#put their hypocrisy into the eyes of their God

[13thpythagoras]

yoooooooo

If Dems use the bible as justification enough maybe the GOP will stop using it...who the fuck am I kidding

[roturo]

₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎♡ BAD GIRL, GOOD GIRL !

he couldn't hide the crush he had for the good girl who's a bad girl to him ! ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎

contains: smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, cunnilingus, masturbation (m), e2l, a lot of praise, overstimulation, fluff & angst if you squeeze your eyes, lore mention (really vague), based when gojo was still in school, multiple orgasms, gojo whimpers, nipple play, throat & tummy bump, creampie, oral m!receiving, a lot of the use 'fuck', kinda getting caught, really cute tbh.

A/N: this was supposed to be a request but... idk what happened tbh, i just created this story. 2.6k + felt lonely

You enjoyed this. Really. You know about the power you have over Gojo Satoru. And he’s childish, he won’t admit it. He will continue with his god complex and see you as a ‘pathetic girl without knowing you well.

And it’s fun. His gaze is so funny, the hypocrisy is funny. He would be talking with Suguru, judging you and how fast you’re getting into his and Suguru’s level. Is he afraid of you?

The worst fucking thing is how hard you get him. Maybe he has a degradation kink to bring him back to earth. But each time it gets harder to hide his clear erection inside his pants.

But he would never admit the admirations and maybe the tiny crush he has for you. You being the first time he saw a girl like this– and he might be afraid of you. Afraid of losing himself to some silly highschooler crush– When there’s more important things to focus on in this world, like… he could focus on the political and economic state of the world right now….?

“Gojo Satoru! Are you paying attention?” Sensei Yaga brought him back from his own imaginary debate. “Uh- Yeah, sensei. I’m paying attention.”

“Oh.. Is that so Gojo?” Oh well fuck. Here you go.  He sighed, saying your name in a whisper like if it’s some bad word full of anger- “Would you mind explaining what Sensei Yaga just said?” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fucking you with your face pressed against his bed and silencing your cries for him, while he pounds his cock from behind you into your poor vulnerable pussy he just ate out some minutes ago. 

“Why do you keep acting like some bad girl instead of behaving yourself and learn to be a good girl for me, hm? Learn how to treat your seniors right. How does that sound? Do you have an answer for that?”

Silence.

Sixth fuck. Why did he think it was okay to say that out loud? Does it sound kinky?

“...I– why- uh- Y-You don’t know me Gojo.” Convincible right? His nicknames didn’t affect you. “So shut up boy. Instead of telling me how to behave, why don’t– Ugh. Shut up.”

He would pretend and convince himself that the reddish color covering your face is an act of his imagination, and move his gaze to his best-friend Suguru, which has a mix of confusion and shock adorning his face. “What? Do I have something in my face?” Gojo asked, touching his left cheek with his hand on that side.

“Uh- No. I will… just pay attention to what Yaga is saying.”

He can’t fucking stop thinking about you.

Is this right? His hand sneaking down his abdomen towards the elastic of his sweatpants, just to enter and– FUCK! He shouldn’t be doing this while thinking about ‘someone he hates’ and want to put them in their place. His erect cock was really visible through his sweats, and all he could do was roll in his bed trying to take you off his mind- Being shirtless didn’t help that either,  his also erect nipples having fun with the friction he created while rolling on his bed. Great, not only it affected other areas of his body, but it also brought release to the problem he was trying to stop.

So he couldn’t stop himself. And his sinful right hand went down and inside his boxers to jerk off some tension down there (traitor)-- A whimper escaped his mouth once he teased his tip, already full of pre-cum thanks to stupid bed. His left hand traveled searching to cover his mouth to stop soundings coming out– Not trying to out himself, because it looked like this fucking walls were made of paper. But accidentally while doing so he touched his nipple, bringing out a loud and electric shock to his body.

Seventh? Ninth? Fuck. 

He quickly bit his lips, surely blood coming out of them because of how hard he was trying to stop himself, but he really needed to cum. Fuck- If you were here, he would ask for permission, he would beg to cum. He would do anything to just fucking cum inside your pussy.

And it’s so embarrassing, because of all the rumors of him in this small space for his kind, that he’s a playboy and gets pussy every weeknd– when he’s basically a virgin if he has never got his cock inside a woman's pussy. Does it still count as sex without it inside?

He didn’t have enough fucks in his vocabulary to count all the misfortunes he has in a week. How could he let his guard down? How the fuck the curse got him? But the worst (actually it’s like the best thing that happened in his life) is that you cared about his well-being and you offered to take care of him as fast as possible.

"You're hurt. Is it bad? Do you need the med-kit? Let me see-" He already treated himself, not wanting to be a bother for you– (he wants to) but thanks to his infinity it wasn’t so hard to, and it’s basically a paper cut, but ever since that happened, everyone’s been cautious. Well, at least the people who know.

"Don't bother, it's not serious. I've already tended to it."

"...Someone was able to get the better of you?"

Oh shit. Congratulations Satoru! You used another word to describe how unlucky you are! But did you have to mention him?

“Uh.. No- I mean- When training… y’know? It happens, even to the best” He sent you a wink, anxious to get over this topic and not get too focused on him, because really. It was just a paper cut for him. He called for you, bringing back your gaze to his eyes, did he always look this beautiful? “Uh.. Yeah?” You didn’t intend your voice to sound like that, but suddenly everything felt so hot, and was he so close to you before?

“Why did you want to take care of me? The last time I got the memo you hated me as much as you hate bugs.”

“I.. I don’t hate you Gojo. I just-” sigh.

“It’s okay, I understand if you want to gain Yaga’s confidence for… whatever reasons you have. I’m just impressed- that’s all. I’m very grateful it was you.”

…

“I like you Satoru. I’m scared I'll lose you- even though I don’t show it, I care about you” Oh nice. You don’t hate him, and he liked the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth. Could easily make him cum. It’s great you also care for him.

“Can’t blame you. I’m pretty awesome.” His quirky smirk showed in his face, earning no reaction from you. Oh.

Oh fuck. 

He really fucked it this time, didn’t he?

“Wait, are you fr?”

“There’s no way you just said ‘ef’ ‘ar’ Satoru.”

He didn’t care about your criticism now, not when you just made him the happiest man in the world and he lifted you with no problem, and got you in a position so you’re now above him, caging his legs.

With no words, he kissed you on the lips with a passion he has never shown. Not even while fighting. He loved the way your lips were perfect for him, how small you felt above him in his touch. As an automatic reaction you slowly started to rock your hips, earning a whimper from him. Which somehow turned you on more, your hands roamed his body until they landed on his chest. Index and middle finger keeping his nipples between- an unexpected thrust from him caught you by surprise and pressed your fingers back together, earning a whine from him. You were about to get your hands under his shirt, and discover this new ‘thing’ of Gojo’s, but-

“Oh my fucking god. WhatshappeningrightnowIthoughsomethingbadhappenedtoyouguys.”

Poor Suguru.

Both of you have been into very… ‘pretentious’ situations while interacting through the years. It stresses him out that it’s just.. well- pretentious. Because you never go to the next base, even after forgetting the bickering and rivalry through the years, (and the raging sexual tension from Gojo), he might finally have the courage to put aside his masquerade and open up about his wants and be vulnerable… At the act? After? During? 

Taking a deep breath and sighing, waiting for your answer, but all he receives is a stare. Which makes him even more anxious. He would prefer a slap, a cussing, fuck! even you laughing at him. But all he gets is a stare. Was it so stupid to say how much he liked you and that you should have sex with him?

He called out your name, bringing you back from your shock- “I- shit…  Wait a second, this isn’t how I wanted things to go.. what the hell?” The last question was barely heard, he was murmuring to himself and planning a hundred ways he could die without bringing down the sorcerer world with him. Is it good he confessed in your room?

“That’s the worst confession I’ve heard in a while y’know?...” He stopped his mental break-down, never believing he would blush for a girl. Not even the girl he has been crushing (and hating) through his teenage years.  “I like you too, like- for my whole life. But I didn’t think you would feel the same. I didn’t see it.”

“But I felt it.” His eyes traced your body until they reached the floor. It was weird seeing Gojo like this. Never in his 20 years of life thought he would be feeling weak and vulnerable to anyone. Not until he met you.

“Yeah- I can see it” You lazily pointed at his crotch. “You seriously have a problem… Do you like being humiliated and degraded?...  This isn’t the first time this happens, y’know?:..”

A whine escaped his mouth like a little child- “Ugh, it’s just… I really need you.”

You wasted no time when your lips glued to his. It was 10 P.M, everyone was asleep, but at this rate you didn’t care. If they ungratefully hear you and Satoru moaning, it was his fault for giving the first step this time.

He called out your name, making you break the kiss and start marking his neck. “Ah, fuck. Please mark me, I want everyone to know I’m yours.” You pushed him back so he’s now sitting on the sofa. Kneeling down for him while you continue marking him and hearing his beautiful noises. You were in between his legs, in front of his raging cock begging for release from the sweat pants. “Is this okay Satoru?”

A lot of little cute nods were made, his flushed cheeks making him look absolutely precious. “I need words baby, I don’t know what you want me to do…” You said while playing with the hem of his sweats.

“I want you to suck my cock and then fill you up… please.” Oh! He clearly answered his desires, making you form a smile while he bit his lips watching you undress him. “No underwear hm? You were waiting for this?” His cock was standing there tall and angry. The pale base with a pink needy tip leaking pre-cum from it. “I was risking my luck”

“Then you’re such a lucky man right now Satoru.” Your lips wrapped around his cock, and you slowly teased his tip with your tongue, making him whimper at the feeling. And you tried to deepthroat him- which caught him by surprise and his hand immediately went to find a place in your head, making a made-up ponytail with your hair for some support. (He was too lost in the pleasure to even know if he doing it right)

With the rest of his neglected cock, your hands traveled up to find his balls and start massaging them. Making Satoru to fucking loose control over his body once he saw the bump his cock caused in your throath- Moans turned into whines with tears, he had to pull up his shirt and bite on it to stop whining. Silent whimpers accompanying his tears while he looks at the beautiful girl between his legs. The sight made him cum faster than he expected, he swears he saw light and white noise was heard in his ears.

You happily showed your tongue to him before swallowing the salty liquid down your throat which earned a groan from Satoru.

“From outside you’re such a bad girl, but inside you’re a good girl f’me, aren’t ya?” You chuckled at his ‘drunk-dazed’ face, moving yourself so you’re on top of him again, his cock still hard against your core. “You don’t know me at all Satoru…”

You placed your arms around his neck, getting closer to him. “Not the way I wished. But you’re giving me the chance to be your man and get to know you, right?”

“Oh… Gojo... I’m looking for a real man, not for a man who pretends to be a man. Are you a real man, Satoru?”

“I’ll be whatever you want baby.” He says, ghosting your lips, making a brushing action with his nose and yours before finally giving in and kissing you again. This kiss was more needy, remembering every place from it. While your hands went insearch of his chest, the hold of your hips with his hands hardened when you ghostly brushed your finger through his nipples.  He thrusted upwards, looking for some friction between your core and his.

He was getting needier each passing second- and you noticed that once he grabbed the hems of your leggings and tore them apart. Murmuring about him buying you new ones continuously tearing apart your panties too. 

One of his fingers going through your folds, coming out wet, you shyly looked away when he inserted the finger on his mouth and moaned. “Sweet.”  His cocky personality was back when he sent you a wink. He looked being in control, to be honest.

With no warning, you placed yourself so his cock was aligned. And it kinda hurt because of how fucking big he is. But his reaction was priceless.

You were full of him already, cum coming out of you. “I-..I.. shit.” He couldn’t believe he just came from being inside you, overstimulation taking over him thanks to his second orgasm, but it just felt so right, he couldn’t stop himself from rocking your hips back and forth using his cum as lubricant.

His cock touched places your fingers could never reach, each thrust and movement felt so good. He called out your name in a whine, his head falling back and taking this opportunity so you could mark his neck more. “IloveyouIloveyousofuckin’muchprincess” He was the first to say those three words, bringing butterflies to your tummy after some time of confessing your feelings to the others. “You’remakin’mefeels’goodmygod.” His cries were because he couldn’t take it anymore, filling you up for a second time. And you swear you looked down and there was a clear bump in your tummy because of how full you were. Making itself more prominent each thrust Satoru gave you.

“Ohyeahbaby…Use me as your fuck toy- shit-i’m yours baby.” He never stopped praising you, not until you came and rested your slumpy body on top of his. Your breathings synchronizing with the other, his heartbeat was audible. His arms wrapped around you like a bear. “Satoru- I need to clean myself-” 

“I will clean you- Just… let’s stay some time more like this, please. I want to feel you.” His head rested on top of yours while he drew figures in your back with his fingers. “You’re so… perfect.” He said before giving a peck on your forehead.

“Satoru…?”

“Yeah baby?”

“Are you hard again?”

Millionth fuck.

[liahaslosthermind]

~ 𝑩𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝑩𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅 ~

Past Rhysand x OC (Adelaide), Eventual Azriel x OC Part 4 of Betrayal Summary: What becomes of a family so fractured? Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Attempted murder of family, Hurt/No Comfort, Death of a loved one, Grief, Cheating, Betrayal.

Shadows cover his vision, taking away the pleasure of seeing Rhysand's face as Azriel wrapped his hands around his brother's neck, intending to not let go till he is long gone.

Azriel couldn't even think at the moment, nothing on his mind but the sheer hatred he felt for his oldest friend. Nothing on his mind but Rhysand's continued betrayal to Adelaide, even as her body lays still in its eternal resting place.

If she couldn't get revenge for the betrayals right now, Azriel would be her warhorse, having gotten good at the art of revenge over his long life.

So filled with anger, Azriel forgets to leave the walls around his mind locked up tight. It usually wouldn't have been a problem, even at their weakest, breaking into Azriel's mind was no easy feat. But the fear Feyre felt for her mate was enough to fuel her abilities. Suddely, Azriel went slack on top of Rhysand, having been knocked out by Feyre's daemati powers. She hadn't meant to fully knock him out, but she was far too worried about her mate to care all that much right now.

Cassian grabbed Azriel, restricting his arms and wings so he wouldn't be able to attack his brother if he woke up, but not tight enough to hurt him.

The room was silent apart from Rhysand's heavy panting as he caught his breath and Feyre's cooing as she tried to comfort him.

"Are you stupid, boy?" Amren asked, but everyone knew it was rhetorical. "In what court would it be a good idea to tell your grieving and suicidal brother that you made the woman you left his best friend for, the dead best friend he is grieving still, your wife and High Lady?"

Again, it was posed as a question, but Rhysand knew better than to try and answer it.

"We had talked about this, brother. Until we saw that he was better, we couldn't tell him. You may have had more reasons that just wanting to make Feyre your High Lady, but Azriel won't care for the politics of it."

"He was going to kill himself, Cassian! He isn't going to get better. I didn't mean to tell him like that, gods know I can't blame him for what he just tried to do, but we all need to get it into our heads that he is not who he was, that he won't ever be. We lost him the day we lost her." Rhys' voice broke at the end as he said the quiet part out loud.

Truly, as well as he could, Rhysand did see Azriel's side. Love had made him stupid and blind and he knew he did things that the man Rhysand was a few years ago would have also killed him over, but love had changed Azriel too.

Not wanting to partake in the difficult conversation, everyone seemed to disappear, leaving the High Lord alone with his brothers. One unconscious and the other wishing he was so he wouldn't have to talk about what they were certainly about to talk about.

"You had told Addie time and time again that you had no wish for marriage, no wish to tie her to all the responsibilities you had, no wish to put a target on her back. Had I been in slightly worse state of mind when you first told us, I would have tried to kill you too over your hypocrisy, so would most of us."

It was true, the entire family, sans the Archeron sisters, wanted to kill their High Lord for his stupidity, for his continued betrayal. Once Nesta had been filled in on the details behind why it was brutal for him to make Feyre his High Lady, Nesta ran to her sisters to tell her, disgusted that he would continue to hurt his late lover like this.

Only her sisters didn't bat an eye. They knew. They didn't care.

They had their own reasons for their dislike for Adelaide. In Feyre's mind, Adelaide stood between her and her mate, playing the role of the evil mistress trying to break the happy couple apart, even if Feyre easily fit the description too.

For Elaine, it was more skewed. She blamed Adelaide for taking Azriel from her. While the girl had been alive, she had tried to bring the two together after Elaine confided in her about her feelings for Addie's best friend. When Adelaide gushed about how happy she was to hear that, how she had noticed the way the Shadowsinger looked at the youngest sister, Elaine felt as though a boulder had been taken off her chest. Addie never mentioned Elaine's mate, never made her feel bad for not having feelings for him, for wanting another man.

But a few months before she died, Azriel stopped with all the flirtation. He closed himself off from Elaine, remained only by Adelaide's side, and Elaine had assumed it had been her doing. That Addie had gotten jealous when they almost kissed and commanded her best friend forget about Elaine. It made her so mad she wished the stupid girl was dead.

Then when she did die, Azriel was a ghost. No matter what Elaine tried, he just wouldn't get over his misery and grief. So she blamed Adelaide for dying, for closing any opportunities she would have had to get the Spy Master back.

Rhysand didn't reply to what Cassian had said, didn't even give any indication that he had heard the male. Standing up and brushing himself off, he spoke as much as he could with the damage Azriel did to his vocal cords, "Put him in her room. Not his, he doesn't sleep there anymore. I'll call Madja to check on me, and then him. Maybe its time we keep a closer eye on him and if we must, get him help that isn't us."

Cassian was surprised at Rhysand's command. Despite the High Lord knowing he was fully to blame for most of this, Cassian hadn't expected his brother to be so forgiving of his other brother's suicide and murder attempt. But he did as the High Lord said.

It was the first time the General got a good look at Azriel in a while. He had spent the day before with him, but even then Azriel was closed off, hiding his emotions. When he was asleep, Cassian could take in his gaunt face, his pronounced eye bags, and the wrinkle lines that had yet to smooth down from his constant frowns.

He was still beautiful, nothing could take away the Shadowsinger's unnecessary handsomeness, but he wasn't the same as he had been the past 500 years. Cassian had seen him through some of his hardest moments, seen most of his brother's scars form, but he had never looked like this. He looked more lifeless than Adelaide did in her casket.

Gods, what a mess this already dysfunctional family had become.

[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 21: Facefucking

Pairing: Billlie Sheon x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,212

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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Her semantics was probably not hypocrisy, but rather, sophistication—more so, onto the field of genuine epitomes of everything you can think of and you're not fit for that.

That was disheartening, to say the least because you had the chance but you weren’t proven worthy of it—maybe if you tried a little more you'd draw yourself closer to the promised land. Even with all your might, you might not even succeed and that’s just the tip of the iceberg, because there’s probably more things that you could ever imagine that can even hurt you, and these are two realities: the reality of life and the reality about Sheon herself.

Kim Suyeon, or most probably known as Sheon, is probably the girl you’d really admire and even with the multiple beautiful girls in the university, you just can’t take your eyes off her as she’s something more than what you can think of. 

You, being called as the “university’s heartthrob” can’t even get onto her nerves as she’s one of the few girls that doesn’t even bother to initiate a move or even talk to you, mostly doing the latter if it’s really needed but chances can be even slim to none—note that girls around your university would die just to get to talk to you and you’re probably in their shoes, just with Sheon.

Well, maybe you’re a step closer towards your desired goal: the both of you in a library, probably four seats away from her and just words away from a response from her. Of course, nothing would happen if you would just sit in your chair and skim the pointless texts on the book you’re “reading”, so, wanting to make an acquaintance of a connection to her, you pretended to get another book just behind her as you took a glimpse of what she’s studying, furrowing your eyebrows as you’re piqued on the topic she’s reading.

“Struggling a little bit?” 

“Oh god—” Sheon yelps almost inaudibly, silencing herself from screaming as she’s in a tranquil zone, startled from your actions as you almost giggled because of her adorable demeanor. “—don’t scare me l-like that… I’m fine though, thanks…”

You felt a little faux sincerity on Sheon’s tone, masking her stressed demeanor because of all of the activities and assignments she’s probably into and you feigned little concern because of that.

“Why the deep breaths though?”

“You know, I've been pretty stressed lately…” Sheon lets out another deep breath out, her stress pretty evident as she probably just wants this workload to put on a halt, wanting herself to feel relaxed in the best way possible. “You?”

Well, you didn’t expect to go to this moment—you never expected her to even bother conversing with you as she’s not that type of girl as far as you know. On the brighter side of things, Sheon doesn’t ignore someone just because they find them uncanny or even at their point where she could despise them, she will engage in a conversation whenever possible, but not that invested and you can’t blame her for that. 

Honestly, you would brush these thoughts off considering how everything’s going according to the path you wanted, and you’ll make this worth your while and seize this opportunity.

“Yeah, pretty much the same as you…” You share the same demeanor as hers: stressed and pretty much done with all of the works being battered out to you—half of it are true, since you wanted to be tethered with being in the same shoes as her is hopes of a better connection—as you let out a deep sigh right after, feigning how that weight of emotions are coursing through you. “So many workloads and shit—”

“Hey, language…” Sheon cuts you off with a cute glare visible on her face, not approving of your vulgar choice of words as you apologized because of it, not wanting you to have an atrocious first impression towards this beautiful girl. 

“I’m sorry—stress can really make people the worst version of themselves.”

“Must be having a weak mental, hm?” Sheon muttered a joke about your opinion on how stress can transform people as you laughed a little, feeling the same wavelength of humor as she is and that’s probably another factor on why you’re liking her even more. Of course, as a playful response towards her, you pretended to be offended but addressing those are obviously sarcastic, in a way that Sheon wouldn’t feel any hard feelings that you’re keeping in you and it’s effective, she just silently scoffed, hiding her face a little.

“Don’t be too harsh like that, Sheon.” 

“Hah… Anyways, thanks for a little talk. Feels a little bit good chatting with someone for a while…” Sheon mutters as she feels a little lonely after saying those words and you feel the hint of shock and fluster, mixing up those emotions because of what she's been saying. You feign a little concern in a way that it should have feel a little hard having no one to talk to, or to lean to on these procrastinating days but the other side of your doubts it—your claim earlier is maybe taking over her, she’s not being herself when she’s utterly stressed, or maybe even anyone would lead to that.

“Feeling a little lonely? You don’t seem like it, Sheon—you seem like you have multiple connections around the university…” 

Even with your speculations, Sheon dismisses the fact that she’s even friendly despite her extroverted persona, and more of an approachable person rather than committing to a deep relation of friendship. 

Maybe this is time to probably change those tracks of hers with your own moves.

“No, Sheon—you really look like one. I’d never thought you were like this…”

“Well, it depends—” Sheon closes the book she’s been reading for a while now as she averts all of her attention towards you, looking deep into your eyes as her adorable countenance really puts you into a mode of panic as you can’t maintain that eye contact to her for that amount of period of time. “—I do like, love talking with someone when they seem interesting to me…” Sheon loses her gaze towards you as she feels a little shy because of your endearing stare from time to time, before staring at you again and uttering these words: “And a great example of that would be  you.”

Your heart instantly dropped once she let go of those words, making every speculation and your thoughts take a step further, entering reality and off with the imaginative nature it has been. You didn’t let her know about what you’re feeling in order for the atmosphere not to be brushed off on its elevating wholesomeness as you just act like you’re shocked—you’re indeed perplexed as you didn’t expect Sheon to really say that to you, directly, let along her doe, lovely eyes saying all of that with sincerity coming right from her heart.

“M-Me? How am I—”

“Hey…” You completely lost it when Sheon placed her hand onto yours, completely containing all of your emotions inside as you’re flustered because of her affectionate advances towards you. She caresses her fingers onto your hands  as she interrupts you from uttering more words, wanting to reassure you about how she’s genuine about it. “I meant it and also, you seem a pretty nice guy, too…”

You don’t know if she’s playing a game with you as you clearly know that this isn’t the Sheon you know—maybe that’s the case, you vaguely even know anything about her so you could never be so sure—but you will take any chances even and this, is a great example of it.

Of course, Sheon is not going to be done as she’s still muttering about you—

“I knew you liked me, and you don’t need to tell me about that, anyways.” Tugging your collar, she inches herself towards you as she whispers in your ear and continues, “This might be the moment we can discover more about ourselves, hm?” 

Before you could utter a word, Sheon pulls your collar out where no one could the both of you, the subtle movement of the chair breaking the peaceful ambiance the library has been emanating as Sheon winces, noticing that someone may have noticed but luckily, no one had. Also, before you could hear her talk, you noticed two girls in the distance just on the other side of the library, looking at the both of you and visibly giggling. You’re not oblivious and saw Sheon stealing glances on them too so you know something is fishy out here, and you will break the code whenever possible.

“Who are those girls at the distance, hm?”

“Nothing, they’re just—”

“Maybe stop lying to me, Sheon—” You then grab her wrists gently as she whimpered a little, overpowering her with no effort as your eyes demanded the truth from her and with her soft heart, she wouldn’t afford lying to you in any case.

“Okay, they’re my friends and that’s why I want to pull you here so that they can’t see us.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you feel a strange presence between this and you’re not liking it because your speculations may be true—maybe they just set you up here just for a reason and that alone will break you apart if that’s true. “And why are they laughing at us, hm? What’s happening here, Sheon?”

So many questions, so little time—you won’t brush this off and let them get away with this because you demand a serious answer uttering her lips. A visible gulp can be seen being done by Sheon as she looks directly into your eyes, letting her endearing look make you calm down a little as both your firm grips (mostly from Sheon’s) are still evident against each other.

“Okay, they dared me to go and make you hit up on me—”

“So all of this isn't sincere, then?” You didn’t let her finish as her poor choice of words infuriates you a little bit and with a sympathetical approach from Sheon, she didn’t want this to turn atrociously.

In all honesty, the words she said earlier are all true and you can see the sincerity with her tone or her pretty pupils dilating. It was surprising for a girl like Sheon to like you not because of how you look but how you approach people and make them dearly comfortable and with that element, she likes that about you—if you wonder why, she may have seen you a lot of times with your down-to-earth heart being easy-going and sympathetic, then maybe that’s why she enlightened herself not be that harsh on you and saw the light.

Maybe her soft-hearted personality can melt your heart like butter and starting off with her stare, you would find yourself getting closer to that.

“I waited for this moment too, honestly just to say this.” Sheon knows you’ll throw another pointless banter again and she’s just going to get annoyed with it and to deal with that would take a step further that no one can ever imagine. She shuts your mouth with a kiss that caught you off-guard but with her floral scent and her falling under her spell makes you reciprocate onto her with more aggression, but a gentle approach as you don’t want to hurt her or makes things too fast in any way—maybe you can dismiss that latter part since she’s the one who made everything a step ahead of what you’re thinking. The softness and the sweet, luscious taste of that citrus lip balm makes you indulge onto a deeper kiss as you do so, making Sheon inevitably run her hands onto the back of head, tugging your hair tightly as she’s succumbing to her needs too. Knowing that the both of you are still publicly in a library, you immediately pulled out of her lips’ warm embrace as the both of you exchanged breaths, feeling the pumping rush of adrenaline making the both of you invigorated.

“So, a-all of that—hah, are sincere?”

Sheon’s lips quivers, unable to comprehend the affectionate event that just happened as she nodded and silently responded to you, “Y-Yes it is…”. It didn’t even take a lot of time for her to initiate another move, as she tugs on your collar and with no absolute way of fighting or retaliating her actions, you just simply followed her as she directs you onto an empty space in the library where no one can even bother to see you, or even cameras capturing that place.

“Was this all part of a deal with them, Sheon?”

Sheon scoffs as she places her arms onto your shoulders, staring deeply on your eyes as she’s utterly serious about this. “Maybe—more likely a dare but all of these are sincere because I indeed like you~”

Oh, her soft tone is enough for your ears to melt let alone her stare which could allure you into loving her even more and you’re in the verge of that—you might vent out your frustrations towards her but Sheon’s calm and angelic façade is making it a hindrance for it to be successful and it’s working too well against you. With her touch making your heart skip a beat, you know it wouldn’t take long before you fall in love with her truly as her aura is strongly making you fall under spell, her attractiveness actually making you succumb onto your deepest desires towards her and you’re trying to contain anything you could to have a composed disposition.

“Are you trying to hit on me, Sheon?” Your smirk lets her know how you’re likely to play the game and absolutely love this side of hers and honestly, you’re even in shock at how her demeanor instantly changed—you’re now maybe turned on to the fact that Sheon’s turning the tables against you, and with her captivating smirk, you know things will take on another level. 

“Yes, maybe I am and also—I’ve been wanting to do something lately…” Sheon runs her fingers on your chest, her nails tracing circles around your clothed skin as you know how it’s a sign of utter need from her and most of all, persuasion. It’s the building anticipation that needs to kick in to you to further ignite that aspiring wants living within you, waking the hibernating beast inside you and ending its warm slumber and she’ll do everything that takes her and you can see it burning in her eyes—those passionate, ardor-filled eyes in aims to make you feel with the same wavelength as hers: full of inner lust and greed.

“Mind sharing what's that, Sheon?”

With her mischievous and hubristic expressions, it wouldn’t take long before she spills what would be that desire of hers that she’s been longing for and with her fingers gently touching your chin and averting your eyes towards her, Sheon mutters such profanities you wouldn’t know that’ll come out of her mouth. “To suck off a man like you.”

You’re perplexed for another time as you didn’t expect an angelic girl like Sheon such sinful things but here you are, hearing everything loud and crisp and god, it’s always turning you on whenever such a saccharine, soft-toned voice tingles your ear—you’re loving this moment yet you still can’t brush off the fact that it all came out of her mouth and it’s straightforward.

In all honesty, you may or may not succumb to your carnal needs while thinking about her because everytime you feel like it, she’s the perfect girl to fantasize about because she might have everything you really need in a girl—petite frame, little waist with visible abdominal muscles, porcelain skin, plump lips, beautiful face and maybe even more than what you could think of. There’s maybe a hint of possible hesitation with Sheon’s propositions but knowing how sincere and how everything will go on a great pace of things, you wouldn’t consider putting onto wounds of that and rather, succumb onto your desires as much as hers.

“Since when you wanted this, Sheon?”

Sheon just fluttered her eyes at you as she laughed a little as her sinister smirk just ignited the lustful atmosphere that’s starting to emanate and with that, you would like her to do the honors on starting this possibly spectacular show. 

“A while ago, honestly and also, I won’t just be going to suck you off…” Her sultry voice tempts you onto her sinful actions as she kneels down in front of you, facing your crotch and then looking up at you with those endearing eyes begging for your approval. “You’re going to fuck my face so, are you good with that?”

You wouldn’t think a girl like Sheon would be this impatient and straightforward towards you, actually the fact that she’s this needy for you is puzzling since the both of you barely knew each other but had the same desires towards each other which fuels the anticipating sin you’re about to engulf into.

“Was this part of the deal or dare you and your friends made up?”

“Not this time…” Knowing how her words are laced with impatience, she tugged the hem of your pants and started to unbutton it, wanting to see what could be the feral bast you are packing. You can see a hint of nervousness from her hands, a little tremble is evident that’s why you came up with that conclusion but it didn’t stop her from discovering you and with your defenses coming down one by one leisurely, you’re just mentally preparing yourself on what she’s about to showcase you, or most likely, what you can showcase her. Now with just your boxers remaining as the last bit of defense on your nether area, you let out small, ragged breaths once she teased her fingers onto your semi-erect length, making sure it’ll be in a full mast before uncovering your wonderful length to her and it wouldn’t take long before it grows gradually fast. Now, knowing how impatient the both of you are at this moment, Sheon won’t tease you more as she brings your boxers down with one, swift motion as gravity did the rest, now resting those clothes onto your ankles. Sheon’s awe lit in excitement and awe as she analyzes every inch of your cock that she’s always been longing for and now that she has the full control of it, maybe it’s time for her to fully unlock the potential of her long-awaited fetish.

“Wow, it’s wonderful to see it like this—ohh…” Sheon circles her tongue all over swollen head, and then lapping the profound liquid coming out of your slit, savoring every drop that you create. She kisses every part of your shaft as she worships it like it’s some kind of god she’s made to be a follower for and maybe, it’s going to be on that way because on how aggressive she’s peppering your shaft with kisses, alongside the needy licks that made you shudder in response because of her incredible oral masterclass between your legs. Her warm hand palming your thighs makes you feel reassured as an addition to the sudden pleasure you’re experiencing and it’s an elevating experience and god, you might just want to further dig in to your deepest, sexual desires on fucking that slutty throat of Sheon’s even more.

“Must’ve practiced a lot, hm?”

Sheon continues slurping onto your succulent shaft as she pulls out after a few more seconds, the glossy texture of it becoming evident with her subsequent drool and the light that has been emanating above. “Y-Yeah… I’m sorry if i-it’s not that good—”

“Not good? No, Sheon—keep doing that because it’s amazing.” You don’t know if it’s the sudden gratification you’re feeling that’s why you can’t formulate a meticulous judgment or just the hint of hypocrisy within you but nonetheless and factually-speaking, Sheon’s doing a great job on your throbbing length yet you can’t brush off the fact of her off-rhythmical bobs and her teeth making your wince in a bit of pain and all you can say is that she’s a natural at this.

“Practiced a little on my toys, that’s why—also, let me just get this wet…” Sheon continues her oral masterclass as she bobs onto almost the entirety of your shaft, lathering it will her saliva and to further taste and inhale that musky scent of yours she’s now loving wholeheartedly. Knowing this may be enough, Sheon pulls out not without strings of saliva adding up to the mess she’s starting to create and with a single sentence, it’s enough for you to prepare yourself on what you can showcase to her. 

“You sure you want me to do this to you?”

“I wouldn’t want it unless I said it, right?” Sheon has a valid point and with her further confirmation, you know you should do the unthinkable and probably, this will be the craziest day you’re going to be having for a while. You don’t even know it all escalated this quickly, leading up to this lustful moment but you won’t complain and of course, you need to silence yourself and be swift because you’re risking both your reputations if you get caught. With Sheon’s initiation of your hands making such makeshift pigtails on her hair, it wouldn’t last long before you position yourself in front of her with your length just mere centimeters from touching her plump lips and when you pull the trigger, all let loose and suddenly, you’re in heaven.

All you can just feel is the warmth and the softness of her walls engulfing your cock and hugging it tightly as she hollowed her cheeks with your leisure pace, and with the sweat dripping on her face and her drool seeping out of her mouth, you know you got to up the ante. Sheon encourages you so, and with that green light by hers, it’s time for a ruthless treatment as you brushed off the foreplay and immediately mustered a moderate pace, her face constantly getting rammed by your length as your leverage on her hair was incredibly great that you could adjust at any time you want. With even more than half of your length constantly plunging in her pleasurable mouth, she can’t help but gag uncontrollably as your cock is becoming way too much for her to handle but she would go over the limits and raise the risks for a better reward. You constantly pump your hips onto her mouth like it’s her possibly tight pussy, each thrust aiming to send her limits into the extremes and to further wring out the finest gratification possible.

Maybe she’s getting too ahead of herself as her ego commands her to take more but she can’t and with that, she inevitably pulls out of you and gasps uncontrollably.

“Are y-you alright, Sheon? I mean if you can’t handle it—”

“I c-can take it—continue fucking my mouth, p-please…” Sheon’s tone is full of need and desperation and with her sight of wanting her needs to be fulfilled, you can’t let the opportunity fade away but the other side of you have sympathy, not wanting to continue this if she’s going to struggle but she wanted this, and all of this are in her own accord.

Maybe you just need to fight through that mental battle you’re constantly enemies with, and let your carnal desire win, just in this moment you can’t refuse—

“Come on—glwk—hmmp!!”

The devil inside ascends to its true form, and with the lust blinding you, you succumb to your deepest needs and plunged her mouth with your cock and constantly rammed her mouth like it’s a fleshlight. Maybe Sheon’s throat is built with your cock to be constantly rammed on, like a cocksleeve that will always be attended whenever possible and god, the sight is just getting sinful and hotter—Sheon’s disheveled hair and her sullied face emanates the greatest sin you’ve witnessed, far from her adorable, sophisticated aura earlier as she becomes a victim of her own needs, taking your in fully as that alone makes you delightful, and it’s just the paramount of bliss. Her constant gags didn’t let herself back off to your constantly-ramming length as she even uses this in order to encourage you with a better treatment of roughness towards her slutty mouth and with that, you won’t disappoint her let alone hold back against anything.

You’re not the man you are today, but rather, the primal and the starving one—all hungry for her mouth to be fucked into oblivion and ruin this beautiful girl in front of you until she’s a sullied mess. You try and keep your tone almost deaf to anyone’s ear that could be possible eavesdropping on this suspiciously lustful activity and let Sheon’s gags reverberate around the small spot in the library. The thought of the risk of being caught makes everything a thrill as you hold her hair like it’s your last, ramming into her mouth until she can’t take it anymore and suddenly, she tapped your thigh repeatedly, wanting to give herself a little break from your rough and reckless treatment onto her warm cavern.

“Gahh—s-shit, that w-was good… hah, I w-want more, please…” Sheon begs her glistening eyes as her sullied visage is turning you on so much that you wanted to add the mess on her face with your own seed but you’re getting too ambitious, and maybe, it wouldn’t be long before you could even achieve that.

“Mind your language, Sheon.”

“No—please, it d-doesn’t matter right now. Just please…”

Not wasting any time and fulfilling her needs, she takes your cock in her mouth again as you held onto her hair and instantly, you mustered high-paced thrusts as she instantly gagged on the spot, yet takes your whole length like a champ and with that, you continued pounding her mouth in the point of no-return but with all you can give. Copious amounts of drool seeps out of her mouth with your current pace as the constant slapping of your balls at her chin lets her know how wild the pace is and how it arouses her onto the roof and with that sight, she’s loving this even more. Sheon held a tight grip onto your thighs with your ridiculous pace as she maintained her profound eye contact to you, begging you for more as the glint on her eyes even makes that beast inside of you capable of having no mercy against her.

If that’s what she’s been wanting you to treat her, then so be it.

“Look how slutty you look right now, Sheon—god, if you just see yourself right now, then you’ll damn know.”

She can envision what she looks like by the things that’s suddenly happening right now but she wouldn’t bother because all of her attention is towards your ramming cock, drilling the depths of her throat and bound to make it to the point that everything would be precarious to be tolerated—maybe Sheon just wants to get totally ruined and you would treat her as such. Knowing how your cock is constantly throbbing in her mouth and your silenced moans of need, Sheon knows something is going to be near soon and she’ll cherish it ultimately on her capabilities. She fucks her face further in tandem with your thrusts, bobbing her mouth furiously as the trajectory of your actions results in a greater quality of pleasure and you’re absolutely loving every second of this.

Knowing Sheon is helping you to achieve your own high, you admire it as her clever mind made up for that decision as you double your efforts onto your thrusts, chasing something that will elevate you for the rest of your day and it wouldn’t be that long before it comes.

Might count to ten and you know you wouldn’t pass six because it just went all in a state of bliss.

Shockwaves of immense gratification coursed in every vein of your body, resulting in a state of bliss as your frequent release of profanities was enough of an evidence. Your option to further arouse yourself and to elevate the lustful atmosphere of the area, you bury your entire shaft onto her slick, tight throat as she constantly gags on it but nonetheless, wants every spurt of your delectable seed being deposited right into her walls and down to her stomach—most likely, she’ll choke on it and would try to swallow it whole and with that, you’d love see her try. Allowing herself to get a breather and to let herself be free of her constant gags, you pulled your length out as streams of saliva becomes unshackled, staining everything on its vicinity and like what you expected, she choked on your cock as she tries to savor the seed you gave her and with her undeniably surprising skills, she managed to gulp them all as your healthy, creamy load are now in her stomach. She coughed a little because of your harsh actions against her mouth but there’s nothing to be held against you, not even a hint of grudge and for the optimistic part, she even liked her throat getting pounded into oblivion and she thanked you for that.

“That’s n-nothing much, Sheon—wow, your m-mouth, it’s incredible…” There’s nothing much to say when she's clouded your brain to the point that it all became fried, unable to articulate such words and stuttering becoming evident.

“Thanks t-too—for t-the load, hah… that was rough…”

An evident concern feigns your face as you feel the hint of uneasiness with your earlier treatment but as expected, she reassures you about that because she wanted it in the first place and that alone, makes your mind in a clear space of relief. She licks her tongue as she lets you know you are grateful she is with your load and not so long after, you thanked Sheon with her incredible masterclass and an incredible mouth to derive pleasure with.

Helping her stand up with your hands, she thanked you with that hint of a gentlemanly approach and thank god no one saw the both of you yet Sheon is muttering something, and it's clearly making your interest piqued and it’s maybe just going to get better than this.

“Maybe meet me later at the cafeteria at 5 P.M. because we got to talk about something.”

Your eyebrows feign innocence as she deepen her captivating stare towards you, still finding it endearing and cute even with the sullied mess she had indulged herself into. “Maybe something like, starting a better connection between the both of us but that would be for later, gotta see my friends for now, bye!”

Maybe it all went like a flash, and everything escalating too fast wasn’t on your list but you won’t complain.

You wouldn’t know what she would have in store for you later but there’s a single thing you damn know where this will go: Sheon is going to be yours and you’re just living the fantasy you’ve been dreaming on and now, it’s just within your reach and only time will tell about this.

Such a horny freak, but I love it—I love him…

[writingforatwistedworld]

Requests are open?? May I request Lilia and Malleus from the self aware au with a player who is an artist and draws them a lot?

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsession, death, murder, hypocrisy, fire, coma, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior

Malleus Draconia/Lilia Vanrouge-Player is an artist who draws them a lot

Doesn't matter what kind of style and form of art you practice, you have a fan

Classical? Great! Realism? Wonderful! Stick-man-style? He put the picture in a golden frame (All hail the stick-man style!)

But if Malleus were to ever find out that said stick man is supposed to be him, well he would be over the moon

It was a totally normal day, a cat was choking up a hairball and some poor student fell off of his broom in flying class and was now stuck in a tree

But that is of no importance to us

What is of importance though is Malleus strolling down the path down to Ramshackle and seeing you sit on the stairs with paper and other drawing utensils

Completely normal. Peaceful even. Maybe a bit too peaceful

You see, if you hadn't been too absorbed into rubbing colored pigments into dead wood then you would have seen the tall black wall approaching you

A shadow falls over your shoulder and you scream

Is that... him? Why is the Overseer draw-oh

Malleus is metaphorically (more or less. Meh, he is probably this close to doing it also literally) frothing from his mouth after seeing himself in more than just one paper after the small stack stabilizing the paper you drew on slipped from your hands

Forgetting his manners he rips the paper from the ground, staring with eyes wide as plates onto the thinly pressed wood (granny is somewhere shaking her head)

Why would the Overseer, watcher over worlds, almighty ruler of everything, a god, draw him?

Coughing nervously you explained that you just are interested in are and liked to draw him

Later when he is back in Diasomnia Lilia is greeted with the sight of a tail-wagging Malleus (yes Malleus has a tail and I have no idea how he hides it)

“Lilia, the Overseer likes to draw me.”-moments before calamity struck and Malleus accidentally lit the dorm aflame from sheer joy

But... perhaps you shouldn't draw anyone else

Who knows? Maybe that person disappears for a while and just to be found in a deep coma (don't do it)

Whoa whoa whoa darling, let us not jump at him from nowhere with the fact that you like to draw him

After all, he is quite old and we don't know what his poor heart can still take

Now how about you tell him about your interest in art fir- ah... From your expression I take that it is too late for that

Indeed it is

One day you were just sitting there in Ramshackle, T-posing or whatever you do when you are not drawing

Remember that scene when Lilia was introduced to us? Well “How do you do fellow kids” over here just popped out of thin air

Now, that would have been nothing special if it wasn't for the stack of paper with his face on it on the table...

Lilia is staring, you are staring and the gargoyles are facepalming

Poor man has to take a seat all whilst you watch him with cold sweat running down your back

Suddenly Lilia isn't that “always energetic” guy but looks a lot more vulnerable

In Lilias mind however he is planning how to burn that one portrait of himself in the Draconia castle and replace it with your art

Or so he thought until he looked what else you drew

For goodness sake, someone call an ambulance! I think he is about to pass out!

If the situation wasn't already awkward enough for you (and euphoric for him) Lilia suddenly kneels down, saying something about being honored and him swearing to be forever loyal to you

Oh sweet summer child, how easily you told him “Oh thanks...” If only you knew what would follow...

You see, Lilia might have had seen a few too many heads being severed from their bodies but, oh well, all those students were a teeny tiny bit too close to you for his comfort

Suddenly there is an increase in missing students who get found in... uh... “not compatible with life” conditions

See? It's dangerous outside! Let him watch over you!

Says the person responsible for everything

You had shown your appreciation through your art, now it's his turn to show his

And what if a few students need to get hurt? (Yeah, “hurt”)

[starminzoo]

╭──────────────────✎

╰─▗ ▘➤𖥸 attention please

warnings: thigh humping, pet names, hongjoong being down bad for reader (while I am down bad for him), established relation

꒰ risa's note ꒱ hope you guys enjoy!

"joongie~~~ you said five minutes later it's been an hour now, you liar" you whined at your boyfriend who was sitting beside you ( well you had your legs up in the air while your head was facing the ground) on the couch . his fingers working tirelessly on the laptop typing away his assignment "i know baby I know just a few minutes more hmm later we can do whatever you want ok" he reassured you while holding your hand. you grumbled at him but nevertheless your sat up straight and grabbed your phone, you were mindlessly scrolling through TikTok when an idea popped up in your head, you hurriedly got up and went to your room you did look behind to see if joong was staring fortunately he wasn't. you changed into his hoodie which was long enough to look like a dress discarded your panties and sprayed some pheromone perfume on your neck and collarbone.

as you joined joong again on the couch this time you sat close to him head on his shoulder and draping one leg over his own and pushed your core slightly on the side of his leg and grabbed your phone again to look busy. completely oblivious to your real intentions he just smiled at you and went back to work, but he wasn't able to focus anymore as the scent of perfume hit his nostrils literally making his mind go blank his dick started to throb a little in his sweats he looked at you and quickly caught one what you were trying to do but pretended not to notice which was actually really hard for him as he no longer gave a fuck about his assignment anymore he just wanted to to be inside you, your tight warm walls hugging him just right but he wanted you to give in first as your started the game first.

you sat there waiting and waiting for the perfume to work its magic so you can get dicked down right here on the couch but 15 minutes passed and no response from his side disappointed you, so decided to take matters into your own hands and started to rock your hips back and forth on his leg sneakily while watching a video but you weren't sneak enough and hongjoong stared down at you smirked at your action so to not disrupt your pleasure he put aside his laptop and grabbed onto your buttocks lifting you and on his lap the sudden movement caught you off guard but shocked gasp that left soon turned into a short moan as he pushed you down forcefully on his thigh and rocked you back and forth "if you wanted my attention baby you could have just said" (ohh the hypocrisy) " joong please more please" you grabbed his hands and bought them under your hoodie resulting in the hoodie to ride up enhancing the view of your bare cunt rubbing on his leg "fuck baby no panties you were that needy oh my poor baby"

he discarded the hoodie from your body as his started to mould your boobs, fingers pinching the perked nipple as he sucked on one while you humped yourself on his lap, he occasionally flexed his leg to help you reach your high, your eyes closed, one hand on his chest and the other behind you on his leg to brace yourself "ahh fuck so good" eyes fixated on your fucked out expression god you could ask him for anything at this moment and he would have bought it at your feet no questions asked. he dragged one hand down to your cunt rubbing it furiously "that's it baby that's it go on make a mess on my thigh" his encouragement bought you near the edge as your moans and pace increased signalling your high "hah ahhh fuck fuck fuck" you grabbed at his shoulder tightly as the euphoric waves passed through your whole body you cried at the euphoric feeling as it was too good to hold back, you bit your lip to contain your moans you slowly stopped your movement to catch your breath. but as your looked up to see hongjoong mesmerized by such erotic sight it for him cumming in his sweats like teenager you chuckled at when you figured it out that had came untouched you bent down to capture his lips in passionate kiss as your hands went south and started rubbing him from his sweats he moaned in your mouth encouraging you but you pulled away your lips to whisper against his "will you let me use you as my fuck toy joongie, pretty please baby" he groaned and threw his head back while whispering a silent 'please' so you knew you had his consent and went straight to business.

[flowerandblood]

The softest whisper (Oneshot)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x servant! • female ]

[ warnings: virginity loss, oral sex, angst, smut, cheating, toxic relationship, toxic behaviour, objectification ]

[ description: Aemond, on the orders of his brother, arrives in the Red Keep and notices that a new, young girl has appeared among his servants. Wanting to fill his time, he summons her to his chamber and forces her to read to him. His time to return to Harrenhal is approaching, and he is less and less willing to part with his new property. Sexual tension, angst, very dark Aemond. ]

This oneshot have an alternative ending: The dearest embrace

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

My other works: Masterlist

____

Ever since the war began he had felt that piece by piece he was losing parts of himself; even the knowledge that Alys would bear him his child, his bastard son, didn't brought him joy or solace.

He felt both contentment and disgust at the thought of his heir from an illegitimate bed.

He thought the gods were laughing at him from the heavens, mocking his hypocrisy.

After Luke's death, there was no turning back.

He returned to King's Landing reluctantly, at his brother's request – he preferred to stay in Harrenhal, pressing Alys with his body against her bed, the brutal thrusts of his hips pushing apart her hot, slick interior, always welcoming him home.

Alys was an intelligent, witty woman, and her visions made her mysterious and disturbing in his eyes.

He was attracted to her.

There was a darkness in her as deep as his own.

His brother, however, decided that he was to attend the next meeting of the Small Council and report personally on how the battles were going, what their situation was like in the north of the kingdom.

Therefore, he arrived on Vhagar late at night and informed his servants that he wanted to take a bath.

His order meant that his other servants who were already asleep had to clothe themselves in haste and rush to him, filling his tub with hot water.

He watched their movements with a blank stare – his pupil narrowed like a cat's when he saw some new young girl, clearly just being apprenticed to her job – her gaze drowsy, struggling to listen to what the other, older woman was saying to her as the other two ran around them.

In her haste, she had forgotten to put on her white coif, her hair pinned around her head in a tight braid, short strands of her hair framing her soft, flushed face.

She did not look at him once.

He saw her the next morning too, this time already dressed appropriately – she was helping other girl to place the dishes prepared for him on silver platters.

She was completely focused on her task and paid no attention to him, so he had no fear of being caught closely observing her long eyelashes and eyebrows, her flushed cheeks and her full, fleshy lips, her pleasantly rounded chin and her softly shaped nose.

She smiled a lot even though her companion was terrified, as if she did not understand well who sat before her.

It seemed to him that she lived in a world of her own, detached from his worries.

He waited like a predator for an opportunity when she would come to him alone and it happened two evenings later.

He commanded some books to be brought to him from the library that he wanted to return to and read again. He sat in front of his fireplace in his richly decorated wooden chair and glanced out of the corner of his eye towards the door when he heard it open – his new servant holding three thick volumes in her hands walked up to the table next to him, placing them there in complete silence, then bowed, wanting to leave.

"– Your Grace –" She said softly, warmly, lightly, and turned away immediately – he heard his low voice echoing in the silence of his chamber.

"You should ask if I need anything else." He said coldly and matter-of-factly, his pointing finger tapping rhythmically against his armrest; he sat with his legs crossed, sprawled comfortably in his seat, looking at her expectantly.

She stopped in mid-step and then looked at his face for the first time – he saw terror in her gaze, but not caused by him or his appearance, but by what he had said, by the fact that she had committed a discourtesy, that she had done her job badly and her superior or he could punish her for it.

She swallowed loudly, turning to face him, folding her hands in front of her in a gesture of humility, lowering her gaze to the stone floor in front of her.

"Forgive me, Your Grace. I am just learning. Is there anything else you need?" She asked softly – she was breathing nervously, her breasts hidden beneath the thin material of her top gown rising and falling quickly, her lips clenched into a thin line.

He liked how humble and submissive she was, how much she wanted him to be pleased with her; he hummed under his breath, lifting his chin higher, curious.

He thought he would have a little fun at her expense for his own entertainment.

"Can you read?" He asked in a low, deep, slightly hoarse voice. He saw that she gave him a quick, surprised glance, but then lowered her eyes again, apparently reminding herself that she was not supposed to do that.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Mmm. Who taught you that?"

"My father."

"The same one who sold you here?"

He saw her brow furrow in pain, her body flinch, her eyes big, she began to breathe through her mouth.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Mmm."

There was silence between them – he stared at her, rubbing the fingers of his hand against each other, and an idea occurred to him.

He liked her voice, soft, girlish, warm, calm, light; she was very young, younger than he was. He squinted his eyelids at the thought that she appeared to him to be the complete opposite of Alys.

"I want you to read me the fourth chapter of the Great History of the North. Take the book and sit on the floor next to me." He commanded; she looked at him in shock and lowered her gaze thoughtfully, her face red with stress.

They both knew it was indecent, that she shouldn't stay so long in his chamber if she didn't want to arouse suspicion about the nature of their relationship, however, he didn't give a fuck.

He tapped his finger loudly on the armrest, impatient that she had hesitated so long.

"I'm waiting. Do you want to annoy me?" He asked coolly – she shook her head quickly, clearly horrified by this vision, and walked on her trembling legs to the table, the scent of grey soap and some other scent, her own, coming to his nostrils.

Alys always smelled of oils, lavender and cloves.

She picked up the right book and, with an uncertain slow step, sat down by the fire opposite him, sitting on her knees, opening the book on her thighs, her hands trembling as she flipped page after page looking for the chapter he had mentioned.

"Pull off your coif." He commanded; she gave him a frightened, pleading look – only now did he see how large her eyes were, surrounded by a veil of her long lashes. He thought they added to her charm and innocence.

"My superior said I must not…"

"Pull it off."

She lowered her head obediently, swallowing loudly, breathing heavily through her nose, her trembling hands raised uncertainly, pulling the white cloth off her head.

Her dark hair was tangled in a braid wrapping around her head in the same way it had been before, unruly short strands at the sides of her face.

"Read." He ordered, and she nodded, going back to finding the right page. When she found it she grunted loudly, licking her lower lip dry with stress as she tried to calm her breathing.

She didn't dare look at him, all red, her eyebrows arched in horror and helplessness – she was obviously afraid he would do something more to her.

He thought that she must surely have heard stories of what his brother did to his servants.

"It is well known that Winterfell was built not as a re...representative castle but as a fortress, s-so the construction of its walls is several layers, that is, consisting of three hoops, the last of them the thickest, composed of stones. The windows in it are not large, giving the enemy no chance to assault with their help or to be the target of cross...crossbow...crossbowmen. For this reason there is only one gate leading into the fortress, protected by several layers of thick oak wood, reinforced with iron fittings, impossible to be destroyed by infantry or armed army."

He closed his eye, spreading himself out comfortably, feeling that somehow her warm, soft voice soothed him, the strong pounding of his heart began to slow down. He listened to her, analysing what she was reading and at the same time falling asleep, the fire burning in the fireplace enveloping him making him feel safe, his muscles slowly beginning to relax.

She had read to him every day since that evening, at his request.

He would always call on her after the Small Council meeting was over, pouring himself some wine, and she would take the book from the table beside him without a word, sitting down in the same place as always. Everytime before she got down to reading she would pull off her coif and place it beside her feet, no longer even waiting for his order.

Subconsciously she knew that he derived some kind of pleasure from this essentially innocent negligee of her body.

It seemed to him that after he had let her go on the first evening without touching her or taking her by force she was no longer afraid of him – he even had the impression that the fact that she could read gave her pleasure since she had no time for it on a daily basis through her duties.

He didn't care who she was, what was her story.

He just wanted to get through time somehow before he returned to Harrenhal.

However, one evening as he sat, waiting for her, drinking wine thoughtfully, a completely different girl appeared in his chamber. He furrowed his brow, furious.

"I do not recall summoning you." He growled harshly – the girl lowered her gaze, ashamed and humiliated.

"It is the Queen's order, Your Grace, I −"

"− bring her here. Immediately."

After several minutes she stood again in his chamber – however, she did not approach him but looked towards him, trembling all over.

"Your Grace, please, I cannot −"

"Come here."

"I can't, Your Grace."

"Come here, I said."

"I can't, Your Grace, the Queen specifically ordered me to −" She paused and jumped in place, horrified when he pulled up suddenly with his eye wide open – within a moment he was in front of her, towering over her, and she lowered her gaze, terrified.

"I fucking hate to repeat myself. Do you understand?" He hissed, her breasts rising and falling in rapid, uneven breathing, tears of helplessness in her eyes – she was shaking all over playing with her fingers in a nervous gesture.

"I beg you, Your Grace, have mercy." She mumbled, falling to her knees before him, humbly lowering her head, on the verge of sobbing.

"Get up." He said coolly – she cried out loudly, burying her face in his hands. He pressed his lips together, looking down at her, her small, helpless figure curled in fear.

"Get up. You are mine. I decide your fate. Stop crying." He commanded, and she drew in a deep breath through her mouth, looking up at him with those big, terrified eyes, seeking reassurance that he would protect her, that he would not let her get hurt.

She sniffed loudly with her nose, wiping her cheeks red from crying, her face all swollen from tears, almost resembling the intense colour of her top dress; she rose with difficulty, not looking at him, standing in front of him as if waiting for a verdict, staring at his chest.

"Mmm."

He turned away, returning to his seat, taking a sip of wine, gazing into the fire – she moved behind him, repeating their ritual, sitting down by his feet, closer than usual, pulling her coif off her head, opening the book.

The next day he made it clear to his mother that she was not to interfere in the affairs of his servants ever again.

His own mother was afraid of him.

She who had always seen him as her greatest support could not look him in the eye.

He felt nothing at that thought.

The time for his return to Harrenhal was slowly approaching; when she came to him again he took a deep sip of wine before surprising her with his words spoken in a calm, deep tone.

"Get ready to travel. Tomorrow you leave with me for Harrenhal."

She looked at him in shock and swallowed loudly, shaking her head – he threw her one cool, menacing look and she curled into herself, looking at him again with those big, shining eyes.

She was so innocent.

"– Lady Rivers will murder me – please –" She mumbled pleadingly. He grinned under his breath and snorted involuntarily – she flinched all over and blushed as his hand went to her head and combed her hair as if he were stroking the fur of his beloved pet.

"Do not fret. I won't allow it."

As he flew on Vhagar, she travelled in one of the carts, like the rest of his possessions.

She was his property.

Alys greeted him with reserve; her abdomen on which she held her hand firmly rounded. He stroked it with a gesture he might call affectionate, thinking of the fact that inside her was his child.

His bastard offspring.

He saw her gaze fixed on the girl who stood far behind him, looking down at her legs.

"You let her into your heart." She said to him regretfully when they were alone in her chamber, standing over him by his chair, his hand wandering involuntarily over her pregnant stomach. He hummed at her words, amused that she was jealous, but did not reply.

He didn't need to explain himself to her.

She instead let him between her thighs, moaning and panting along with him, hurting him with her nails driven deep into his skin, between his brutal thrusts hissing that she hated him only to sob a moment later that she loved him – he came inside her hard, clenching his eyes, feeling relieved.

He stayed with her for the night, but in the morning he returned to his chamber and summoned his servant, ordering that he wished to take a bath.

She stepped into his chamber ashamed, surely having heard the sounds Alys was making during the night as he fucked her – she couldn't look him in the face.

He wondered if she imagined herself in her place and felt his cock throb hard in his breeches at the thought.

She oversaw the other servants who poured water into his tub, and then personally poured the oils he used into it.

Would she be very tight if he took her now?

Would she stifle her sweet moans if his length with each deep thrust of his hips would stretch her fleshy insides and fill her with his seed?

They were left alone.

She pretended not to see or hear him as he began to slowly undress – usually he made the servants leave before he removed his breeches, valuing his privacy and intimacy, but not this time.

She knew she couldn't leave without his permission so she stood, looking sideways, trying to pretend not to see that he was standing bare in front of her.

With a slow, unhurried walk, he stepped into the tub and sighed low, feeling the pleasant heat relaxing his muscles – he was tired after travelling for hours on Vhagar and was sore all over.

"Massage my back and shoulders." He commanded coolly, lying with his head tilted back, his eyes closed, his breathing calm.

He heard her swallow loudly, terrified that someone would catch them, knowing she shouldn't do that – he glanced at her with a look of defiance and saw in her eyes that she had given in.

She approached him from behind, with a gentle, light movement taking his hair out of her way. He murmured lowly, feeling her warm, soft fingers dig into his skin again and again, surprised at how determined she was, that she could do this properly.

Her hands were pleasant against his skin, finer than Alys, she had longer fingers – he felt her warm breath on his head, felt her watching him, felt her scent, all around them just the quiet splash of water at his every slightest movement.

He thought of how pleasant it would be to feel this small, soft hand down there, on his cock.

He was completely hard.

They both shuddered, and he felt her move away from him quickly, terrified, as the door to his chamber opened – he didn't have to turn to feel Alys' oils filling his nose.

"You may leave." She said to his servant, and he pressed his lips together at the thought that she dared to command her in his presence.

He heard her quick movement and after a moment she handed him his shirt and breeches, which he put on with an unhurried, lazy movement, not caring that the mother of his future bastard son could see how ready his cock was to fuck this little girl.

"Stay." He said lowly, standing up from the water, extending his hand to her.

"What is it?" He asked matter-of-factly, without even giving her a glance, tying his breeches, pulling his chemise into them. He saw out of the corner of his eye Alys stroking her stomach in a nervous gesture.

"I wanted to speak with you in private. About my vision." She said lowly. He glanced at his servant, at her pale, terrified face – she was trembling all over, her hands folded in front of her, her eyes full of tears.

He walked over to the chair and sat down in it, looking at her expectantly.

"You may leave." He said softly. She bowed and left with quickly, closing the door immediately behind her.

"Speak."

Alys looked down at him, her lips tightened, her green eyes piercing him.

His lady, his Alys, his insufficient lover, his attempt to fill a void that could not be filled.

"I saw danger coming from the east, great and powerful like a storm cloud. I saw you in the skies. I saw you being devoured by water." She said in a trembling voice – he furrowed his brows, analysing quickly what she had said.

I saw you being devoured by water.

She knelt before him, laying her head on his thigh, and he stroked her long black hair.

"Don't leave me." She whispered.

The word that Daemon wanted to face him, that he was challenging him to a duel spread throughout the fortress.

He knew he could not refuse.

He was terrified.

He feared death.

He locked himself in his chamber despite Alys' pleas to let her in.

If she hadn't told him all this, he wouldn't have been so frightened.

If she hadn't told him he was going to die, he might have had hope.

He summoned her in.

As soon as she walked into his chamber, he ordered her to lock the door behind her, which she did.

She stood before him, looking at him with her eyes wide open, tears under her eyelids, her body shaking all over.

Of course she knew.

He was sure she would take the gold and run away, as she should.

"Spend the night with me or leave. On the table lies a sack of coins that belongs to you. You are a free woman. Take as your husband someone you deem worthy of you."

But she stayed.

She let him undo her hair, allowed him to undress her, to brush with light, butterfly kisses her soft, long neck.

Never before in his life had he been so affectionate to anyone, his hands had never touched anyone with such reverence, never had he cared so much to do it slowly.

First he kissed her on the mouth, gently and tenderly, barely touching her lips, his fingers entwined in her soft curls – she only sighed and stroked his cheek, looking at him dreamy.

He thought that this night, the last night of his life, they would be equals, that he would take her tonight like his wife, only to make her a widow tomorrow.

"Shhh." He hushed her as his mouth clamped down on her hard, swollen nipple, sucking and licking it – she squirmed beneath him and moaned sweetly, finding the courage to stroke his hair, his bare shoulders and back, driving him mad.

He sank his face between her thighs, forcing his tongue again and again between her slick folds – she didn't care if anyone heard her, her sobs loud, helpless and full of pleasure, his nose and thumb with painfully slow, circular motions teasing her pearl, dragging out her fulfilment.

"− easy now − just a little more −" He hummed between the sticky, loud clicks of his tongue – her tiny fingers clenched in his hair, her thighs spread before his face, locked in his hands hot with exertion.

"− please − please −" She mewled helplessly, her gaze clouded, her mouth wide open.

He pulled away from her, jerking his length already dripping with his precum of with a few light strokes, guiding it's fat, pink head to her hot entrance, sticky and wet from her moisture.

She was painfully tight.

He felt like he was tearing her apart from the inside.

She was almost screaming as he thrust inside her, panting along with her, saying 'just a little more'; 't's almost in'; 'shhh, sweet girl'.

They kissed tenderly as he with sure, deep, steady pushes of his hips claimed her maidenhood – he stretched her fleshy, slick muscles with his swollen cock throbbing in pleasure, her blood and their shared moisture running down his thighs and her buttocks, slapping loudly against each other.

"− gods, help me −" She mumbled beneath him, crying in terror and pleasure at the same time, not knowing what was happening to her body, all welted and sweaty, beautiful, innocent, vulnerable, her hands clenched tightly on his buttocks.

He looked down at her, panting and moaning along with her, never having experienced anything like this with a woman before – their bodies seemed to him to be one, clinging to each other, her soft breasts pressed against his chest, he could feel her hard nipples rubbing against his skin with each of his thrusts.

He sped up his pace, forcing her body to give in, to not resist him, his forehead pressed against hers, his tongue deep in her throat.

"− such a sweet girl − hm? − my pretty little servant − makes her prince feel so fucking good − such a tight, hot cunt −" He exhaled, licking her lips, feeling how, at his words, her walls began to clench against him greedily; he heard Alys voice outside his chamber, heard her pounding on the door, heard her crying, but he only chuckled, neither of them was able to stop now.

"− let her hear how good you feel with me − I'm going to come inside you a few times, hm? − just in case, to make sure I've filled you properly −" He cooed, and she cried out loudly at his words, distraught at how strong and delightful fulfilment shook her body – she tried to push him away, her cheeks red from exertion and tears, asking him to stop, overstimulated, but he just came deep inside her at the sound of her sweet, helpless voice.

"− that's it − take it − just like that, don't fight me −" He murmured feeling her body begin to relax, no more sound or crying could be heard behind the door, only silence.

He had thrust his length into her core all night, turning her into a babbling mess – he felt like he had never been more of one with anyone, that he had never been closer to what he could call peace.

He only slid out of her in the morning, watching with satisfaction as a trickle of his pearly spend flowed out of her – he looked down at her, tying his breeches, her gaze directed towards him hazy and absent, yet tender and warm.

"Don't think about me when it's all over." He said softly, her brow arched in pain, tears of despair in her eyes.

Alys bid him farewell with a tender, distraught kiss full of pain, hatred and love.

"Run away from here as fast as you can. With me gone, no one can protect you from her wrath." He said lowly, slipping his boots on his legs and walked out, leaving her alone, informing other servants to prepare his armour for him.

In response he kissed her forehead and stroked her lower abdomen, thinking hopefully as he turned away, walking towards Vhagar to soar through the skies on her for the last time in his life, that his little servant was already far away.

_____

This oneshot have an alternative ending: The dearest embrace

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

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

[lysatoru]

heavenly - cigarettes after sex

gojo fluff! gojo x gn!reader

gojo’s favorite evenings are when he lays his head on your chest and hears you yapping <3

Even though Gojo was busy most of the time with his missions and his title of "strongest", there were still a few quiet evenings when Gojo came home. You heard the keys in the lock of your front door and realized that he was finally home. If he came home in the evening, that meant he was off, at least for tonight. So you smile stupidly as you wait for him to come through the door.

"Hi there," he says, kissing your forehead and tucking an arm behind your back. "How was your day?" you asked, already knowing the answer. "As usual," it was on.

After a good shower, Satoru joins you on the sofa, you're reading a book "The Metamorphosis" by Kafka. He turns on the TV, but doesn't look at it, he looks at you. "The Metamorphosis, eh? Sounds too heady for me," he says with a sneer — "It's a man turning into a cockroach, it's not that complicated" you reply. "Eww! It's disgusting, poor thing" he says, mimicking disgust.

You laugh and he continues to stroke your legs, his elbow resting on the edge of the sofa, holding his head.

"You're really beautiful, you know that?"

You close your book and look at him, "What's the matter with you tonight?" you say, smiling. "I'm not allowed to compliment the love of my life?" he says, taking your book and resting his head on your chest. "You could have said earlier that you wanted to cuddle!" you then start stroking his hair, with your long nails. "No, you're sexy when you read" — he replies, closing his eyes — "Mmh.. Your petting will get me killed."

You stay like that for half an hour, in silence, just the two of you.

If Satoru had a reason for coming home every night, it was because after your work, he knew you'd be waiting for him and welcoming him with open arms, damn it, how he loved your cuddles, the warmth of your body, the softness of your skin and the smell that emanated from it.

You break the silence for a brief moment, "Remember my friend with the black hair and the glasses?" — "Oh yes, the one who left her boyfriend because he cheated on her?" — you laugh, tugging at his hair, how tactless he could be sometimes - "Yeah, well, she had a date last week and it went really well". Satoru immediately rises from your chest, leaning on his arm. "You've got to be kidding! With who? What they look like?" — Satoru looks more excited than you do at the idea that your friend had met someone, Satoru loves gossip. "they’re slightly smaller than her, tattooed, black hair, brown eyes and they seem very nice!" You reply, happy to know that finally, your friend might be getting some respite with this new person. "They'd better not cheat on her" replies Satoru, before lying back down on your chest. You laugh.

These were Satoru's favorite evenings, no fancy parties, no appearances, no hypocrisy. Just him and you against the rest of the world. That's why he loved coming home at night, because he knew he'd get his fill of gossip, and he loved it. Your life was so much simpler than his and yet all the relationships between your friends seemed so complicated, but he loved hearing you talk. He loved, above all, to rest his head on your chest and hear your vocal chords resonate and your heart beat. You were there, you'd always be there, waiting for him. What had he done to deserve someone who could put up with his lifestyle and his much busier-than-average schedule, with the added risk of never coming back once he left the house? But fate had put you in his path, and he thanked the gods every day for that.

The gossip session must have lasted a good two hours, you coming back again and again to the same stories from the past, he knew them by heart but he could listen to them every day without flinching.

"Don't you think it smells a bit burnt?" asks Satoru. "She found him cheating on her- wait, what? no, my lasagna!" You get up just as early to go and look in the oven, the lasagna couldn't wait for the gossip session to end. Gojo stands up, laughs and walks over to you. He takes you by the waist, "You're so good in the kitchen, that's what I like most about you" he says ironically, kissing your neck. "I wanted to please you" — "Oh no, baby… We’ll order, it's no big deal mmh?". He embraces you tightly, "Yes, we should order." He chuckles one last time, you laugh too,

what he'd give to hear you laugh every day.

a little fluff! i think there are grammar mistakes and im sorry for that, english isn’t my first language😿

requests are open! jjk and also haikyu!

[bi-badass-geek]

Hades 1 vs Hades 2 Designs

● Hermes besides Hypnos was first character that made me think when i saw him oh some time has passed since Zag's escapes indeed, makes you feel that time skip. In this particular debate between those i'm really digging both but if needed to say which i prefer would go with second. I feel it should be said he sure rolls nicely with longer hair i would say darker outfit too but that's probably because pallet that's used for levels.

Ps. I saw post that mentioned how his ring is the same as ones Charon is wearing in first game and if it's a hint at something i'm here for it!

● Zeus for this god specifically there is discourse about how his pose is less dynamic and oh boy if i don't agree with that so much. In first game you see him and his look makes you think yeah this is the king of gods while in second game man is just there with posture i take often because i'm useless gay that don't know what to do with my hands and feels like they took all this might and put it into chiseling his nipples & abs into his golden chestplate. Not to mention the detail of missing the iconic bolt! Don't think it needs to be said but 100% would pick Hades 1 design out of those options.

● Poseidon the King of the Sea another example in my humble opinion where they went with flattening that dynamic looks exchanging it for man that just standing there chilling which is good for him but where first screams cool uncle second one goes uncle that wants retirement. I really like how we can see the trident now tho and need to point out his outfit sure got more print on it. When it comes down to pointing out which one is the winner in my eyes it would be 2020 one.

● Aphrodite if she wasn't the one that got thrown into drama because people double standards and hypocrisy. Design from first game and the pose straight up makes you think of love, lust, seduction all the things that are associated with said goddess. As for Hades 2 version i have no clue why it feels like this considering it's actually the opposite because we can see armor on her legs now but she feels less covered for me, do i find it negative or in any way problematic? Not one bit let the woman show off all her assets all day long! Really love the adds of her weapon and shield makes you immerse in the store of oh fights are happening around these parts. From seduction to i stand here at the ready kinda vibe and i'm really digging it.

Ps. Another post i read was about fact that her war paint i will call it (not 100% sure if that is it or just line for the giggles) is reference to Ares and considering her myth i really like that touch!

● Hypnos was the first OG i saw and was like man not only catching up on his sleep but also got such glow up i absolutely adore the design. Not to say he looked bad in Hades 1 but there it was like okay nice to Hades 2 like Damnnn and his lil helpers that keeps him up! Love the fact that of all things they made him be tucked into his cape like burrito.

Ps. I really do hope by the end of the game we get to wake him up so he can try out that nectar that we all leave there waiting.

● Chaos so many things to say and at the same time silence says it all. Seen people focusing on fact some out there call them he or how it's a downgrade from previous but don't even elaborate why they think that because everyone has right to have their own preference but at least put it into words instead of going trash next..there was also notion how they resemble Meg and while i see where people get that idea from for sure before reading that my mind didn't went there at all. I think both designs really work with someone who is primordial originator and how time goes so can their form. I find it very fascinating that they put old skeleton with new one and adore galaxy under suit makes me think of Nyx right away and how they're connected. Can totally see how between those two gamers got major stance that left reminds them more of male and right of female beings but at the end of the it chaos is chaos. Gotta take chair routine from Meg while they at it! The face on the shoulder surely throws me in loop tho fits? Sure. Does it disturb me in micro scale? Yes. About frames and poses don't have much to say cause both caption the essence of i mind my business everything unrelevant until i say so.

Ps. I know it's about physical aspect but let me say Chaos roasting Mel about how her brother is amusing one out of two Hades spawns is living rent free in my brain.

[literary-motif]

Confiteor

Andrew Marston x Reader

Andrew reflects on his religious upbringing.

Like many things in his life, it started with a book. 

On one of his rare days off, Andrew had decided to tidy up the flat you two shared, which called for him to dust the enormous bookcase, filled to overflowing with your most treasured possessions. 

While on his tiptoes to reach the top shelf, he braced himself against one of the lower shelves, and as a spider poked its head over the top of the bookcase, he stumbled over his own two feet. His hand shot out instinctually, reaching for the closest thing to defend himself with. When he looked at what he had grasped, he found a well-thumbed copy of a book he had not picked up in ages: the Confessions of Saint Augustine. 

Instantly he was hit with nostalgia as his eyes roamed over the many post-it notes sticking out around the margin. He opened it, leafing through it quickly, his eyes not focusing on the text but on his old handwriting. His annotations ran over every page, filling the free space so thoroughly in parts that additional post-its stuck to the pages. 

By the time he reached the back cover, the nostalgia had turned to nausea, unpleasant memories of his religious upbringing and his parent’s countless excuses and false justifications making his stomach turn. 

He had nearly forgotten how much he hated it. 

Their hypocrisy, the falsity of their belief they presented as fact, rooted in bias and prejudice — it made his blood boil, the image of his brother’s face flashing before his eyes as his parents told him he was wrong. 

Andrew snapped the book shut, stuffing it to the back of the bookcase to put it out of sight. He had not thought about Christianity for so long. He had separated himself from it, looking at it from an outsider's perspective — a view he had so perfected in his academic career — that the proof of his involvement in it, the proof of the part of his life it had been, felt like a punch to the gut. 

It left him winded, and looking at the bookcase before him, he found himself only able to focus on the presence of the Confessions, which he knew was there, despite not being able to see it. 

The book was taunting him from the shadows, pulling on invisible strings. It had bided its time, resting on the wood in the home he had built with the person he loved — his Darling, his love — before striking when he least expected it, when he was the happiest he had ever been. It came armed with a shovel, digging through the thin layers of apathy Andrew had pulled around his heart and his relationship with religion, until it slowly unearthed them, bringing the stained memories, doubts, and guilt to the surface again.

God, the guilt. 

It came rushing back to him now that he thought of the endless phrases burned into his memory, the beliefs, the threats. How often had he cowered before the altar, unable to raise his head to look at Jesus nailed to the cross in agony before him? How often had he curled into a ball under the blankets at night, wondering if he had listed all his sins during confession, or if he would go to hell because he had forgotten one? 

How many times had he found himself afraid of his thoughts, afraid to view his outstanding accomplishments in his academic career for the praiseworthy achievements they were, because pride was a sin? 

There was a rosary in the drawer of his nightstand. Andrew pulled it out with shaking hands, looking at the black beads his grandmother had gifted him when he had started elementary school. 

“Take good care of this,” she had said, pressing the wood into his little hands, “and remember to pray it at least three times a day for your soul to be saved. You want to be a good boy, don’t you, Andrew?” 

He had nodded slowly, wondering where her argument was going. 

She had merely looked at him, her eyes boring into him from behind her glasses. He could still feel the chilling intensity of her gaze as if instilling a fundamental truth in him that should lead him through all his years of living. 

“Then ask God for forgiveness,” she said. He had wondered for most of his childhood what he had done that needed absolution. He had never dared to ask. 

It was only later in life, around the time his brother began acting out, and he saw his family slowly falling apart — because of him, because he was making his parents hate his brother — that he realized his very existence made a little dent in the world around him, and somehow he needed to justify the space he filled. A justification for his life was hard to find, especially when he could only focus on his brother’s growing animosity and his parent’s exceedingly hollow praises, so he continued praying for forgiveness instead. 

He stopped only once he escaped to university, fleeing the suffocating feeling his parents instilled in him. He could not breathe while he was around them. He felt the crushing weight of existence and apprehension and guilt pressing down on his chest and slowly grinding him to dust. 

Meeting Isaac had been a breath of fresh air. He still remembered his breath catching in his throat, his eyes widening in horror as he waited for the earth to open up and hell to claim him when he realized that he was in love with him. 

It had only taken Isaac’s sly smile, his kind eyes looking at him with a hint of concern behind all the adoration he found in them, to gather every last shred of his parent’s beliefs and the religion he had been raised with — not his religion, never his — and push them into the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind, lock them up and bury them where they would not taint the happiness and love he had found. 

It had been years since then. He liked to think he had gotten better at dealing with that part of himself, but in truth, that part of his life had simply slipped his mind. He no longer heard psalms and bible passages in his mind, he was no longer ashamed of himself when he passed a church. He no longer felt the urge to drop to his knees in repentance when he made a mistake, when he sinned — in truth, his actions hardly registered as sins at all. 

Sometimes, he still thought about his parents. He thought of his mother’s scoff and his father’s displeased look when they found out their ‘golden boy’ had gotten himself caught up in a scandal. He thought of their disgusted faces when they found out he was together with you — and then he realized that they were not worth thinking about at all. 

They were a relic of his past. They were not important to his happiness at all. If he ever were to have children with you, he would make sure they knew their worth as people were not subject to a collective interpretation of an abstract entity’s approval — they would never be told to feel guilty for being alive. 

If Andrew took you out that night, linking your arm with his to walk the streets of London until you found a bench in the park to look up at the sky, it was partly on instinct. 

In truth, this had been a long time coming. 

You made a noise of surprise, eyeing Andrew curiously as he got up. “What is this?” you asked breathlessly, your voice nothing more than a whisper in the silent night. 

Andrew was kneeling in front of you, a gentle smile on his face as he clutched the golden ring in his trembling hands. It had been in his nightstand drawer for too long. He had mulled over the idea of marriage again and again, but now that he had finally retrieved the rosary, facing the very thing that had given him so much pain over the years, it felt nearly airily light to pick up the engagement ring. 

“My confessions,” he said, eyes filling with tears. “Will you marry me?” 

God, he hoped you would say yes.

[vexwerewolf]

How much does Odin actually understand of Norse mythology? Does he have it just completely wrong? Does he have only an superficial/pop culture understanding of it? Or does he actually know the most faithful to the original interpretation that we have to day from the Eddas?

Because the names he gave his children, although fitting from a Doylian perspective, from a Watsonian perspective point to him either not knowing the dire implications attached to them, not caring and just using the theme because he likes it, or most worrying of all wanting to convey exactly that meaning.

I mostly ask so in Act 2 I can know if I'll be able to get under his skin by pointing out one of his sons is going to be mpregged with a horse.

CW: Parental abuse, self-harm

I'm not sure I have a comprehensive answer to all of this, but...

It is, in my mind, highly probable that the MCU has poisoned understanding of Norse mythology so much that "Loki is one of Odin's sons" was just something that the interpreters of the Massif Vaults believed, and thus passed into five thousand years of Union understanding of pre-Fall mythology.

As for the dire implications of the names he gave his kids - yes, he was fully aware of it. He was doing it on purpose. He wasn't born to the name Odin. He chose it. He's a delusional fanatic trying to raise his sons to kill God, and he is not at all convinced that magic doesn't exist. Naming himself and his sons after gods was a part of his Magnum Opus, his Great Work - he may be dooming them to misery, but he's also elevating them to the status of gods, for who else can kill God but the gods?

Did you notice that Odin's left eye is cybernetic?

Odin, the mythic father, who traded an eye for sight beyond sight - and does this crafted eye not see more than any flesh-eye ever could?

You have to understand that for all his cruelty, Odin isn't a hypocrite. He'll gladly torture his children, but he's not hesitant to subject himself to the same tortures or worse to get what he wants. He put his own eye out with a screwdriver. In his twisted understanding of the world, having it painlessly replaced under anaesthetic would be cheating - true knowledge requires pain, requires sacrifice.

By this measure, though, this lack of hypocrisy, he justifies the cruelty to which his children were subjected. He was willing to suffer so much for this great and terrible project - why shouldn't they?

[hakethishere]

Where is Sam season 4 and post-Crisis?

I know it’s been brought up before, but Sam is a core relationship and person to Lena’s past. They are best friends “sisters” even and I refuse to believe her disappearance isn’t a massive plot hole. Let’s consider a couple of key moments Sam should’ve been brought up.

First and foremost season 4 Lex being released from prison?? Hello, your best friend’s maniac brother is on the loose, maybe a phone call would work. The irony of Lena snapping at Kara for not being there for her while Alex and even Supergirl were was also not lost on me.

Second, Lena finding out Kara is SUPERGIRL!!! To set the scene Lena finds out the her best friend is a kryptonian while Sam, her other best friend, had a wild awakening for being one as well a year before! There is literally no one better to talk to about whatever she was feeling than Sam. Moreover not only was Sam a kryptonian and knew and saw Supergirl’s struggles, but Sam was Reign!!! and for a while both Kara’s friend and Supergirl’s villain. She had front row seats to Supergirl’s hypocrisy and her poorly played split personality. To top it all off Lena had lied to Sam for her own good in order to protect Sam and because she doesn’t really trust people which was obviously not the same situation as with Kara but still, we can see some similarities that they could’ve talked about. But instead of doing so, Lena builds an AI puts it in Eve Tesmacher’s body OF ALL PEOPLE to serve as her emotional support/sounding board. (I refuse to believe that actually happened)

Third, Lena brings Andrea back into her life?! If you ever had a best friend I’m sure you’d have some reticence before allowing said best friend to bring a toxic lying ex back into their lives for god sake. Like no matter what, that decision should’ve been double checked. I love the Lena backstory with Andrea it really thickens the plot, but if I was Sam I would’ve given Lena a quick reality check on why that was a bad idea.

Fourth!!!! Post-Crisis!!!! Okay so reality changed and let’s say maybe Sam and Lena never met. But Lena kept her memories, and as (a platonic best friend according to the writers) Kara checks/makes sure that Lena remembers their complicated history first thing after saving the world, why on earth prime wouldn’t Lena do the same with Sam if they are so best friends and so platonic. But let’s say they indeed didn’t meet, I have even more questions. How did the Harun-El come to life? Was Sam Reign? Did they save her and then just moved on? how did they even realize she was Reign. And if Sam was not Reign how in the world did she get to Earth and what in the world was with the witches of the cult popping up 5th season. Will Sam become Reign? is she dormant? I have so many questions that Lena, Alex, Brainy, Kara should have too!

Side notes to that argument I have:

Lena saying every one of her friends has betrayed her in the past when Sam never did

There’s some sort of excuse the writers could give, like if Lena already had a best friend that was there for her in every sense of the word while making big sapphic eyes at Kara and going through a sapphic tragedy when Kara lied to her then well that couldn’t have been platonic could it?

Ruby and Esme. There’s absolutely no way Lena did not think of Ruby especially when Esme came around I just refuse to believe so.

[inhonoredglory]

Good Omens Season 3: Heaven and Hell dividing humanity; humanity as Leviathan; and Aziraphale locking the doors of Heaven and throwing away the key [A Meta]

(This meta is long, but I swear there's some good stuff in here. It took me 2 months to get it together for these two longsuffering Anons. Thank you so much for asking me these very important questions.)

In preparation for answering two Asks above (and to aid my own predictions of Good Omens 3), I read and reviewed the Book of Revelation, W.B. Yeat’s iconic poem “The Second Coming,” Terry Pratchett’s Small Gods, Neil Gaiman’s deleted scene from American Gods (Shadow meeting Jesus in America), and Doctor Who showrunner Russell T Davies’ 2003 miniseries The Second Coming (starring Christopher Eccleston!). The first two are definitely going to be referenced in season 3, Davies’ show is one of the few stories dealing head-on with the coming of Christ, and Terry and Neil’s bibliographies are probably the biggest resources for how Season 3 will shake out thematically.

🕊 How Aziraphale Will Change Heaven

I think GO s3 is the season we see Aziraphale really come into his own, when we see him implement the moral vision he’s taken this long to coalesce, when all the pieces he and Crowley have put together are finally put on stage in a terrifying, beautiful display (all that righteous anger and conviction, merged with his kindness and empathy is going to be Something Else).

There’s an angel in the Book of Revelation who stands between the Earth and the Sea. This angel wears a rainbow halo and speaks with the voice of seven thunders, and yet John (the writer of Revelation) is told not to write down what this angel speaks. (Sounds like someone has hit on the Ineffable Plan?) If Neil and Terry were going to pick up an image from Revelation for Aziraphale, I really like this one, because it feels like an intermediary role (between two Sides), one that god dare not make public because it speaks an uncomfortable truth. And it’s about speaking and revealing knowledge, instead of fighting or destroying something.

Because even though we know Azi and Crowley will fight to stop the second End Times, fighting itself is not a theme Neil Gaiman or Terry Pratchett really champion. Instead of war, Aziraphale will oppose Heaven in all the little ways he and Crowley opposed it before: By enjoying human comforts (Azi will definitely bring food and trinkets to Heaven and send scrivener angels and seraphim alike to tour earth). By asking questions (Heaven’s new suggestion box). By telling stories about humanity and why it’s important to know who these humans are before anyone kills anybody (Azi was, after all, brought on board because of his human expertise).

Aziraphale will become what Crowley wanted to be before the Fall, but Azi’s got the benefit of thousands of years of knowledge, cunning, and intelligence about how both Heaven and humanity work. He knows Heaven’s weaknesses, he knows humanity’s strengths, he knows his own capabilities, and he knows where Heaven will turn a blind eye. He’s going to be such a bastard the likes of which we’ve never seen. And he’s going to drop truth bombs like there’s no tomorrow.

Season 2 brought back the book banter about “the lower you start, the more opportunities you have.”

Season 3 will bring back Aziraphale’s most badass book moment. This scene takes place after Azi possesses an American televangelist talking about the fire and brimstone of the End Times and the Rapture (the mass teleporting of all worthy believers to Heaven). Says Aziraphale,

Aziraphale is fed up with Heaven’s hypocrisy and he's scathing in his condemnation of both Heaven and Hell. Everyone will die and become collateral damage, no matter which side is doing the killing.

Sound familiar?

That's the arc Aziraphale is heading towards: that blazing conviction of Crowley's, spoken out loud and fearless and in spite of his eons of trauma. And Season 3 will see Aziraphale get to that place, where he gets to tell off Heaven, but not just in the privacy of the bookshop or the bandstand, but to their faces in Heaven's hallowed halls.

The demons and angels in Season 2 were much less icky and ethereal (respectively) from their appearances in Season 1. Because it's working towards a further humanization of both sides in Season 3. Because one of the biggest themes in s3 will be Aziraphale humanizing Heaven in all the little quaint ways he loves humanity. All in preparation for the endgame of Heaven and Hell not existing at all.

(Season 3 deep dive continues under the cut...)

Because angels and demons won’t be fought, but changed. Maybe not by much, but just enough to break the loyalty they have to a Great Plan no one understands. This is how both Neil’s American Gods and Terry’s Small Gods conclude, with the build-up to an incredible battle, and then for the human hero to step in and talk down the gods and armies into seeing sense and reason.

I don’t think Aziraphale himself will be that person. It might be a very human Jesus. Or (more likely) a random human being caught up in this craziness (maybe someone in Tadfield, per the working title of the second GO book: 668: The Neighbor of the Beast). But Aziraphale will be fundamental in changing the atmosphere of Heaven in the little ways Earth changed him.

🗝 Season 3 Themes: Morality and God

In the Job minisode, Aziraphale casually but boldly assumed that god didn’t want the goats and children to be killed. Because Aziraphale has a firm and dogged idea about what god should be. It’s his own personal morality, but he calls it god’s because he doesn’t want to imagine the symbol of ultimate goodness being anything other than what he Aziraphale himself feels to be true.

And I don’t think that’s a theme that Good Omens will deny for Aziraphale. Because it’s not really about how evil or good god is. It doesn’t matter what god thinks or is. god doesn’t answer questions, doesn’t deliver messages we can understand, doesn’t show up when needed. god is inscrutable, shifty, absent, “a Dealer who won’t tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time.”

What’s important is what humanity has done with god, what humanity has said about god, what they do in god’s name, what they interpret god to be. That’s the real danger.

And Aziraphale, in his profound goodness, will become the person he wants god to be. Because that’s the injunction we all have. To live up to the ideal we have made for ourselves: In many ways, that’s what god is.

Aziraphale is now in a privileged place that allows him to affect basically the entirety of Creation with that driving idealism. He will level the playing field in Heaven. I firmly believe Aziraphale will be the one to close the doors to the pearly gates and throw away the key.

So, like you asked Anon, will Aziraphale try to make Heaven better or stop the Second Coming? I think those are the same goal. Changing Heaven will fundamentally change how the Second Coming happens, because just like the End Times in Season 1, Heaven and Hell’s scheme will be turned on its head because the Chosen One refuses to follow the script.

The Second Coming will end, not with a bang, but a whimper, because everyone decides to turn in their guns and forget the whole thing.

⚔️ Heaven and Hell v. Humanity

But before that ending happens, I think there will be another threat the world has to face: the individuals who are so sure of their own righteousness that no amount of sense could stop them from destroying anyone who thinks differently. This is an important theme in both Neil and Terry’s works (see Vorbis, the Exquisitor in Small Gods, who tortured unbelievers for the Church), and I believe it will show up in the new season.

There's never been a true war that wasn't fought between two sets of people who were certain they were in the right. The really dangerous people believe they are doing whatever they are doing solely and only because it is without question the right thing to do. And that is what makes them dangerous. –Neil Gaiman, American Gods

Because it’s humanity who takes Faith and shapes it into Religion. We are the ones who created the Heaven we see in GO: cold, unfeeling, strict, judgmental. And I think Season 3 is going to address this fundamental belief of both Neil and Terry: that humans are just so damnably human (fundamentally innocent and stupid and wonderful) and yet there’s a few of us who will take things too far and think that Someone wants them to destroy everything in the Name of God. And in these changing contemporary political times (the passage of an old generation, still clinging to their old ways and growing more extreme by the minute *cough*Trump*cough*), the dangerous people become even more vocal and violent, like the frightening, monstrous creature in WB Yeats’ poem “The Second Coming,” a devastating scourge on the world born in the name of God:

Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. […] A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, […] And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? –WB Yeats, "The Second Coming"

That’s who I think the Metatron will team up with in the end, someone like Vorbis. Because we’ve already seen how petty and small Heaven and Hell is, especially in Season 2. Only the Metatron really carries some heft and foreboding. I believe he’ll team up with some extremist faction of humanity who wants to see the End of Days and divide the world into Yours and Mine, with Heaven taking a portion and Hell taking a third and calling it a day. Not a War, but a divvying out of souls. With no consent or permission on the part of humanity.

That’s what I think the zombie reference is all about. Like Gabriel said in 2x03:

Yes, we’re going to get zombies. And it’s going to be insane and funny and horrifying (and I think we’ll get to know one or two historical figures who pop back up to earth). But the thematic and fundamental metaphor of zombies is how they have no free will. They’re not alive, they have no souls, they have no choices. That’s what Heaven and Hell want humanity to be: To do away with the dance of choice and free will and divide humanity once and for all between both sides. That’s how Heaven and Hell team up against the human race.

🐳 Leviathan (Job 41:19) as Humanity

And that’s how I believe the Leviathan fits in, who is the subject of the quote from Muriel’s matchbox:

The Leviathan is a magnificent creature, and this passage goes on and on about how fearsome this being is:

Who can penetrate its double coat of armor? Who dares open the doors of its mouth, ringed about with fearsome teeth?… Nothing on earth is its equal—a creature without fear. It looks down on all that are haughty; it is king over all that are proud –Job 41:13b, 33-34

And yet why does god want to explain how amazing the Leviathan is? To show how god has control of it. God says,

Can you pull in Leviathan with a fishhook… Can you make a pet of it like a bird or put it on a leash for the young women in your house?… Can you fill its hide with harpoons… No one is fierce enough to rouse it. Who then is able to stand against me? –Job 41:1, 5, 7, 10

The reasoning is that because god created this dangerous and terrifying being, then god must be even more dangerous and terrifying. And if god can so easily abuse and humiliate this beautiful monster, then god must be worshipped and respected. (Yes, it’s as messed-up as it sounds.)

I can’t help but think of this Leviathan as a metaphor for humanity. A beautiful, ferocious being whose ownership and control is the focus of god’s attention and qualification for worship? Of the Leviathan, Job says: “Will traders barter for it? Will they divide it up among the merchants?” (Job 41:6). That’s how humanity is going to be treated in Season 3.

Because both God and Satan want to control humanity. They want to put their thumb on human souls and claim them for each side. But humanity doesn’t have to be so easily fooled, because we are more powerful than we realize. Our hearts and imaginations can forge a path of purpose and goodness without the entrapment of organized religion and fundamentalism. We, like Leviathan, are ferocious and angry and fed up with being treated like this. We can and will fight back.

🌟 Becoming Gods

Ultimately, we will shuffle off the need for Heaven and Hell (symbolized by the shutting down of both at the end of Season 3). We will lose the need to unquestionably defer to a Being who plays dice with our lives. I’m reminded of the opening passage to Terry’s Small Gods:

The lowly tortoise will learn to be the eagle; humanity will learn to be like god. Because we are as powerful as god, since we created god. Adam Young pointed out that having a god figure to solve all our problems doesn’t make humanity any more responsible for the evil things we’ve done. We need to learn that we are all we’ve got, and we have to answer for the shit we’ve done to each other and to the world.

I like how Russell T Davies put it in his show The Second Coming, where Jesus comes down again in the body of ordinary human Steven Baxter and tells humanity:

You are becoming gods. There's a new master of creation, and it's you! Unraveled DNA, and at the same time you're cultivating bacteria strong enough to kill every living thing! Do you think you are ready for that much power? You lot? You lot? Cheeky bastards. You're running around science like kids with guns, creating a new world, while the world you've got is stinking…. If you want the position of god then take the responsibility. –Russell T Davies, The Second Coming

I legitimately think that’s how Jesus in Good Omens 3 will come down. In the body of a regular 30-something off-the-streets guy, who thinks the pomp and circumstance made about him is insane. And Aziraphale will be his minder, trying to tell him how the whole scheme is supposed to play out and giving him wise asides on how warped Heaven’s standards are and trying to tell him how to go about changing things for the better. (Jesus will be terribly confused, meanwhile; he just wants to go out for a pint and get on with his human life, none of this god business.)

🐍 Crowley’s Growth

There will be some big things at play in Season 3. I think Aziraphale will change how Heaven operates and close Heaven for good. I think Aziraphale will initially try to get Jesus on board with Azi’s own private mission of Goodness. I actually think Crowley will end up becoming Aziraphale’s “back channels” to Earth, and they’d exchange trite, bantering messages about the state of affairs from secret rendezvous points in America. (There was a whole thing about Jesus getting lost in Times Square, according to Neil Gaiman.)

I think Crowley will learn how to trust Aziraphale and learn that doing the right thing means being brave and selfless. He’ll realize that humanity is worth saving, even if it means dying. In fact, his depression at the start of Season 2 will probably only get worse after the loss of Aziraphale, and his altruism might get colored by the taint of suicidal recklessness, because he might as well go out for what he believes in, if what he wanted most in the world chose being selfless over being with him. (If Crowley’s character takes a suicidal turn like the Tenth Doctor after losing Rose, I’m gonna scream.)

This is how Aziraphale helps Crowley be brave in the finale of the Good Omens book. That’s what I think will happen in Good Omens 3:

Aziraphale here displays a gentleness and kindness that comes from a place of grounded knowledge and responsibility. He knows how much he and Crowley have in their own ways fucked up humanity too, and he knows that no matter what their own personal feelings, they each need to do something to defend the human species they've come to love so much.

Crowley is scared of risking everything to help save humanity, but with Aziraphale's encouragement and wisdom, he realizes that doing the right thing is the only option he can choose, no matter the risk to his own happiness and safety.

So I believe Crowley will learn to understand why Aziraphale chose to return to Heaven and fight in the trenches. Crowley will see it as a choice made to save, not just each other, but the world they love so much.

Ultimately, I think Crowley on earth will take on Aziraphale’s strongest qualities: being selfless and bold to protect humanity at costs, and connecting to humanity on a personal, individual level.

While Aziraphale in Heaven will become like Crowley: asking questions, sabotaging the System, and condemning Heaven with all the uncomfortable truths they need to hear.

[papermint-airplane]

WARNING: HUGE RANT AHEAD

As per the request from @nectar-cellar:

Oh boy prepare yourself for a foul-mouthed rant because I am MAD!!!! 😠😠😠😠 Not at you, NC. I love you. You can do no wrong in my eyes. 😘

No I am mad at this STUPID FUCKING SIM holy shit

OK FIRST OF ALL

He started life like THIS

What I can only describe as "Disney's Aladdin visits a dude ranch". Yes, I know I have used that exact outfit (minus the boots) for Roman before, shut up, you're not here to expose my hypocrisy, you're here to suffer with me because OH BOY DID I SUFFER.

Ok so he turned out like this. Not bad, you say? No. Bad. Very bad.

I SPENT TWO AND A HALF FUCKING HOURS ON THIS STUPID MOTHERFUCKER AND THERE'S STILL SOMETHING OFF ABOUT HIS FACE AND I CAN'T FIGURE OUT WHAT AND I PUT CONTOURING MAKEUP ON HIS FACE AND YOU CAN BARELY SEE IT BECAUSE FOR SOME REASON, THIS SKINTONE IS IMPOSSIBLE TO COLOR MATCH TONIGHT AND I DON'T KNOW WHY BECAUSE I'M USUALLY GREAT AT COLOR MATCHING FUCK THIS GUY

Yeah so I got him in Live Mode and there is just something about him that is pissing me right the fuck off and I don't know what it is. Is it the eyes? Are the eyes too big? Jaw too square? I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS AND IT'S PISSING ME OFF!!!!!!!!!! I really feel like the eyes are too big but I kept shrinking his eyes until he literally looked like this .👄. and it still didn't help.

I went in and out of CAS at least 7 times and I can't figure out what's off and I can't fix it and I HATE HIMMMMMMMMMM

"Who's made of pixels and sucks ass? This guy!"

"Don't you just love me?"

NO I WANT TO HIT YOU WITH A BUS

I know that making masc men is a challenge for me. This is not new information. It's been a problem for 20 years, it'll be a problem for 20 more. I know what I find attractive in a man, I just don't know what looks good on a Sim. Know what I mean? No? Stop being difficult, you know exactly what I mean.

I also tried using NC's new torso and oh boy that was an adventure because the torso is fire and his face is A FUCKING DISASTER. There is something about his head and his torso that are incongruous with each other and I don't. know. what. it. is. It's driving me crazy. No correction, it has DRIVEN me crazy, past tense. I am crazy now and this fucker is why!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOOK AT THIS PIECE OF SHIT WHY DOESN'T HIS HEAD FIT WHAT DID I DO WRONG

I even expanded my slider multiples so I could fine tune things thinking that would help but no I think it made everything worse ESPECIALLY MY MENTAL HEALTH

I hate him. I HAAAAAAAAATEEE HIIIIIIIIIM

So by now you're like "Laura there's nothing wrong with him, Laura you're taking this too seriously, Laura he's fine" and I know. I KNOW! I STILL HATE HIM

And you're god dang right I put that fucker on a pole. If I get community labeled because of this shit heap, I'm gonna lose my shitting mind.

Literally fuck you, I hate you so much. I didn't even give you a name. Do you know what your name is? "Stupid asshole who won't behave" that's what your name is.

I even threw Monica the Devil Girl in there hoping that would help. It didn't.

Know what the worst part is?

I enjoyed this. I mean yeah sure I hated the whole process and I hate the result and I hate this Sim and in a minute, I'm going to have an alien Sim land a meteor on top of his head, but there's something really cathartic about just unloading all of your vitriol on a Sim, you know? And it was definitely a challenge and definitely out of my comfort zone. I'll have to keep trying until I make a male Sim (other than Roman and Aiden) that I'm happy with.

This was a learning experience for sure.

Piece of shit.

[alpydk]

“This from the man who wanted us to make love as gods? You must be at least curious…”

There was a time when he might have needed to be persuaded, Gale reflected as they climbed the long staircase following the two Drow. Maybe a suitable argument that could sway him other than calling him on his own hypocrisy. Maybe he could still get out of it, whisper in the ear of his lover, hope they would see the discomfort in his eyes, hope they would see Mystra mirrored in their reflection from a passing window.

He was thankful when the world descended into darkness, as the hidden tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. The hands roamed like those of his own spectral form so many nights before, and he wished he had just had the courage to say no directly. But no’s were not for loved ones, especially in exploration of the body. All Gale wanted was to make them happy and if this was what they wanted, then so be it.

A quiet giggle, a tracing finger, dancing lower and lower. Muscles tensing and deep brown eyes clenching shut.

The need to get away. The longing for his mind to journey elsewhere if this was to continue.

A palm brushed on sensitive flesh and the only thought remaining was to get out. To make excuses and leave.

The sparking of magic, the excitement in the Drow’s voice, the cackle of laughter from his beloved at the ridiculous show of behaviour.

Gale remained close by in the doorway, closing his mind to each moan of pleasure, his conjured form keeping them entertained as he bit his tongue and cursed himself for not being strong enough to put his foot down firmly. Was this how it would always be, always putting another's needs first? Was he damned to do nothing but sacrifice? But what was love if not the act of giving oneself away piece by piece? A sacrifice always to someone more deserving than himself.

He held his robes tightly around a body he no longer recognised, destroyed by the consequences of his own actions, inhaled the nostalgic scent of a home he feared he would never see again. Dreaming of Lliirian Suites, he closed his eyes to the distant sun outside, and prayed the orb would cease its traitorous pulsing, his illusion taking each covetous sin as its own with no need for persuasion.

[utilitycaster]

Wow your Orym tags really are an eye-opener. You are totally right and now I understand the bitterness about this character a little better. I've seen a lot of "...but C3 is supposed to be this and that" takes and I guess a lot of people think they are owed a certain storyline?

Yeah. People feeling as though they're owed a certain storyline is not new nor exclusive to Critical Role; it's been pretty common in fandom for years (see this excellent post that I still think about). But the particular blame being placed on Orym is a fun new twist on this theme.

I'm sure there's people who hate Orym for other reasons; shipping wank is another very common form of entitlement to a particular storyline. I must admit when it comes to Twitter I think some people just yell random lies out into the void to hear their own voice because there is no underlying logic to any of it. But I do think a large number of people who have been blaming Orym for everything for what is now the majority of the campaign are doing so because he has consistetly refused to entertain the idea that Ludinus makes any valid points from the start, and the narrative has pretty much only rewarded him for that.

A lot of people really thought that Campaign 3 "all bets are off" didn't mean like, messing with the narrative structure (they hate when that happens by the way. they acted like Downfall and the Solstice Split and the fact that this has been a very plot-driven campaign rather than one about character backstory are all fucking violations of the Geneva convention the way they carried on, and I say this as a person who can complain) but rather that Critical Role, a D&D-based fantasy, would shed those pesky two previous campaigns of canon (unless of course earlier canon helps them make a point. I truly cannot believe someone made like 5 alts and harassed me and all my mutuals for an entire evening over hypocrisy for...liking one ship more than another when these idiots exist) in order to become some kind of deeply pathetic "French Revolution Except Instead Of Kings It's Gods" historical re-enactment.

We're at the point where like, nothing has validated them and everything they've claimed the gods have done, Ludinus or the Weave Mind have done like, tenfold. As mentioned, the people who were like "oh my god STOP SAYING HUBRIS anyway obviously Bells Hells would NEVER see the gods as relatable" just watched Laudna and Imogen be like "wow, they're flawed and conflicted and a fucked up family just like us." I shit you not, I saw someone criticize FCG's relationship with the Changebringer because "he had to work for it" as if that's not like...how literally all relationships work if you're not an utter black hole of entitled self-absorption. The Kreviris Imperium wants to straight up colonize all of Exandria but they turn a blind eye. There's someone out there talking about putting Rashinna's head on a pike for being willing to endanger the poor Ruidusborn children that...Liliana (probably to some extent coerced by Ludinus to be fair) could have left alone to live out their lives on Exandria. People genuinely channel some anti-abortion "but What About The Disabled Children? Shouldn't Pregnant People Be Forced To Carry And Parent Them" style arguments at Alma's "hey, we have people delay birth for like half an hour so their children don't have The Psychic Migraine Disorder That Made Imogen Possibly Suicidal". The arguments have devolved into "well, canon isn't real" and "but the status quo" as if there aren't ALIENS FROM SPACE SPEAKING AT THE DRAGON VATICAN. How STUPID do you have to be to think that wouldn't change the entire world. Or, to get back to this ask, how desperate are you to maintain the illusion that you are going to get a wish-fulfillment campaign that never once existed? So yeah. They blame Orym because otherwise they have to blame literally the entire cast, and themselves.