#said “a snake biting it's own tail”

[sundry-whovengerslocked]

bootstrap paradox my beloved

[charliemwrites]

Men At Work - Part 3

I know this has been a little slow to start, but things should progress a little more quickly from here. I wanted to establish some of the groundwork for this weird dynamic they all have but unfortunately, these men don't know the meaning of slow, even in my own head.

No Content Warnings

“How are the repairs going?” you ask.

It’s just Nikto today, returning your Tupperware from dinner the other night. He’s covered head to toe once again, all that’s visible are those glass blue eyes. One way mirrors - hiding everything beneath the surface.

They remind you of… something. 

Hmm. When you figure it out, they’re sure to make an appearance in your next novel.

“On track,” he answers in that sharp, staccato way you’re learning is just his way.

Unfortunately for him, that just makes you more curious. You know it’s a bit obnoxious - you’re not entitled to information, you know that. And most of the time you curb the inquiries tapping at the back of your teeth. But he’s in your house, snuggling your traumatized cat. If he’s got a problem answering casual questions, you’re certain he’ll have no problem letting you know.

“You’re redoing the whole thing?”

“Most of it. Foundation is good. The rest - дерьмо.”

You don’t know a lick of Russian, but you can guess.

“Good bones,” you hum in understanding. As if you know anything about construction. “That helps. When do you think it will be done?”

He shifts, sharp eyes flicking between your busy hands, the door, and Rasputin holding him lovingly hostage.

Little guy is currently perched on your shoulder, face buried against your collar in abject despair that his bestest friend hasn’t come to visit. Shithead is poaching (or attempting to, anyway) the sandwiches you’re assembling. So far, she’s only swishing her tail, biding her time. You’re keeping an eye on her.

“Two months. Three if any of us are called.”

You hum, reach for the tomatoes. It’s only because you’re looking at him that you notice the slightest twitch around his eyes. Beneath his mask, you’d bet he’s scrunching his nose.

“No?”

“I will eat.”

You leave the tomatoes off. Guy mews sadly, you tilt your head to press a kiss to his little ear.

“So, two or three months. Krueger said you’ll move in then.”

“Da.”

You top the sandwiches with a final slice of bread and turn to the oven. Spin back just in time to catch Shithead’s paw reaching for Krueger’s designated sandwich. Nikto eyes the plate of brownies in your free hand; you bite the corner of your mouth to keep from grinning.

“What about the yard?”

Nikto tilts his head. If he didn’t give the impression of a particularly large predator, you’d call it cute. As it is, even spiders and snakes endear themselves to you somehow.

“What about yard?”

“Any plans for it?” You sneak an extra brownie onto Nikto’s plate. Reward and apology for wrenching conversation out of him. “Grass? Trees? Flowers?”

He blinks. Just once. Some sort of intuition tells you that even that behavioral tic is a big social step for him.

“No.”

“Oh, uh… gravel then?”

“We mean no plans,” he corrects.

“Oh! Alright, I suppose that’s a long way off anyway. There’s still so much work to do on the inside.”

But it does get you thinking. What even goes into fixing a house? And how do they know all this stuff? The electric, the insulation, the… whatever else goes into a home. Is it just Weird Things they picked up from the military?

You stare contemplatively at the house’s exterior as you walk the plates across the street with Nikto. (Ras is riding on his shoulder and Guy refused to detach his claws from yours. You fear for the state of your home with Shithead left behind, but neither you nor Nikto had a spare hand to wrangle her with.)

Nikto practically kicks the door in, shouting for the others as he goes. Guy chooses that moment to start crying - uncanny sense for appearing pathetic as possible.

Konig must hear him halfway down the stairs, because the steady boot steps get faster after a moment.

“Oh, bubchen! Why are you sad? What has happened?” Konig coos, nearly running to your side.

Of course, now that he’s gotten what he wanted, Guy’s volume lowers. He makes a pleased little “mrow” and slinks off your shoulder and into Konig’s reaching hands. You’d call him a traitor but you’re a damn sucker for a big man with a cute animal. 

“You two are ridiculous,” you laugh, setting the plates on the counter.

It’s already been replaced since last you saw it. Black granite, very sleek. You like it. (Which of them installed it? Nikto? You usually catch glimpses of him on the ground floor.)

“He is a baby, Biene,” Konig protests, “he must be treated like one.”

“He’s already five!” You reply, like you don’t have a papoose for when your hands are too full to snuggle him.

“Did I stutter? I do not think so. This is a baby.”

You have to turn away to hide your laughter, pretending that taking the foil off the lunches requires your full attention.

Krueger steps up behind you while you’re not looking. The heat of him is what alerts you, the only reason you don’t jump when his rough voice comes by your head.

“Where is the Shithead.”

“Hello to you too, Krueger. How is your day?”

He grunts and reaches past you, trying to snatch up a brownie. Without a thought, you slap at his hand - balk at the sharp whack sound it makes. He jerks his hand back in shock.

“You deny me my dearest friend and you attack me in my own home.”

You spin on your heel, mouth already open. False start as you realize he’s even closer than you expected. The height difference doesn’t seem like much until you’re eye level with his neck. You untangle your tongue and ignore the smirk growing at the corner of his scarred mouth.

“This is barely a house, never mind a home,” you scoff.

He snorts - that smirk turns to a full blown grin. A little crazed. Unfortunately, that makes it more attractive. (And the bastard probably knows it too.)

“You insult me too, now.”

“Sure, but I brought you food.”

He flicks his eyes to the plate behind you and arches a brow.

“Bring me the little Sheisskerl and I will forgive you.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Go get her yourself.”

What the hell did you just say? Inviting a man into your house unaccompanied?! You may not be a true crime writer, but you know better.

You still don’t take it back.

He locks eyes with you, gives the distinct impression that he knows exactly what you just thought and he’s amused by your obstinance.

“Fine.” He reaches past your hip. Smells like sweat and something that reminds you of heat. Solder? Certainly not anything you’re used to. “Behave, eh? Konig is easy to take advantage of.”

You snort and glance at Konig over his shoulder, who’s glaring now. (Somehow no less intimidating even with Guy nuzzling at his mask.)

As Krueger turns, he takes a big bite of brownie, humming appreciatively under his breath. You shake your head, then turn to Konig.

“If you want to steal one of his sandwiches, I’ll look the other way.”

Konig barks a short, sharp laugh of surprise. It startles you a bit, but not enough to wipe the grin from your face. You know he really means it when he sounds like that.

“How are the bathroom repairs going?” you ask.

“They are going well!” he answers. Then launches into an in-depth explanation of all the ongoing projects. Replacing walls, rewirings, outlet and light installations. What doesn’t go over your head is almost too fast to understand as his accent thickens with excitement. You nod along anyway, because you asked, and he’s stupidly endearing - big muscular man getting a bit squeaky while he rambles about pipes.

He barely even notices Guy’s little paw reaching until it’s shoved into his open mouth. He sputters as you burst into laughter, gently tucking Guy’s arm against his chest.

“Why would you do this?!” he asks, only to receive a slow blink in response.

“He’s saying you need to eat,” you giggle, nudging Konig’s plate.

“Oh, that’s right! Thank you for the lunch!”

Barely a couple bites in and you hear the door open again. Krueger stomps in with Shithead bundled in his arms, one hand under her bottom, the other around her tummy. She’s got her head tilted all the way back to chirp and chitter at him.

“Why are you carrying her like that?” you ask, choking back a giggle. 

“It is how she wishes to be carried.”

You blink at her - but sure as shit, she’s perfectly content being held like a child’s toy.

“Well good luck eating like that.”

“You won’t feed me?” he leers.

“I don’t want rabies if you bite me.”

His laughter is even harsher than Konig’s. You like it instantly.

All that’s left is to hear Nikto’s.

Agatha is outside when Nikto walks you back home.

(Krueger huffed that he had too much work to do for the day, but he would see you for dinner. While you were still blinking in shock at his self-invite, Konig transitioned Little Guy back into your arms. All the while grumbling at Krueger’s impatient German.)

She scowls as she notices your two-person parade. Nikto’s juggling Little Guy and Rasputin; you’ve got a firm grip on Shithead and the stack of dirty plates. You snort a bit just thinking of her paranoid comments about them being bad men. Sure, they might be in some ways, but it’s a hard sell when Ras is trying to lick at the edge of the mask around Nikto’s eyes.

“Afternoon, Agatha,” you call, just to be petty.

“When is your fiance coming by again?” she calls back. “Such a lovely young man.”

Your mirth dries up in an instant. “I broke up with my boyfriend four months ago. I thought I told you.”

You did. You know you did. Because she’s a nosy pain in the ass that was asking about your Easter plans with him (trying to invite you to church once again) when you told her that you left him. She’d even fussed about it at the time, saying that there’s hardly anything that can’t be healed with time and understanding.

(It was only your commitment to your own privacy that kept you from asking how much time it takes to smooth over someone cheating with your cousin.)

At your side, Nikto grunts. You glance sideways at him, wondering what he must think.

But his eyes are on Agatha. Even Rasputin has paused the grooming routine to narrow his one eye at her.

“Is this the one that looks in mailbox?” he asks, louder than you’ve ever heard.

Loud enough that she hears. And flushes redder than the poppies in your flowerboxes.

“That’s her husband, actually,” you answer. She sputters, and an incredibly immature bolt of satisfaction suffuses you.

He grunts again. Eyes her up and down. “Maybe we leave surprise for him next time, da?”

You press your lips together, but it does nothing to prevent you from grinning. He’s deadly serious, though, which somehow makes it even funnier to you.

“Maybe!” you reply in a tone that really means absolutely.

Nikto shuts the door on her face before Agath can get out a threat to call the police.

“You’ve got a petty streak,” you say, grinning at him.

He tilts his head. “You like.” He doesn’t even sound sure if it’s a question or a statement.

“Yeah,” you giggle, “I like it.”

He grunts and takes the plates from your hand. “We wash. You think about dinner and revenge. Da?”

You plop yourself onto a stool by the kitchen counter. “Da.”

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Masterlist

[iamnmbr3]

@wordrage 🤣 🤣 🤣 are you doubting the strength of my impending marriage? i am shocked and hurt.

I’m actually gagged by your quick wit and stupendous physicality. Give me a ring (and then give me a ring!)

☎️ ➡️ 💍

...What?

[burst-of-iridescent]

the thing with zuko and azula that people, specifically azula stans, seem to forget is that they are intentionally and specifically characterised in opposition to each other.

i keep seeing discourse about how azula deserves a redemption arc & even leaving aside the fact that a) saying someone “deserves” a redemption defeats the purpose of what redemption is and b) there was no space in the original show for azula to redeem herself anyway, azula could not have been redeemed because part of her narrative purpose is to be a foil to zuko.

zuko and azula are each the metric against which the other’s evolution (or devolution) is measured, and it’s the striking disparity between their character arcs that makes said arcs as impactful as they are: the child who swallowed the poison vs the child who spat it out. the fire nation royal who perpetuated the cycle of violence vs the fire nation royal who broke it. the abuse victim who became an abuser vs the abuse victim who became a protector.

would zuko’s redemption have felt as satisfying and hard-won if we hadn’t seen in azula the alternate path he might have so easily gone down? would azula’s downfall have been as terrible and saddening if we hadn’t seen the possibility of a better future embodied in zuko?

thematically speaking as well, the fire nation royal family exists as a microcosm of the fire nation itself — the generational trauma and violence passed down from sozin to azulon to ozai to azula and zuko is symbolic of how the fire nation’s warmongering has turned inwards, back on itself, a self-inflicted wound that grows and festers and rots until they’ve destroyed themselves just as much as they’ve destroyed the world. but where zuko represents a way out — hope for healing, for peace, for an end to the self-destructive nature of war — azula represents the cost of that war, the damage that can never be undone, the danger of remaining mired in an ouroboros, forever the snake that bites its own tail.

a version of the show where both zuko and azula redeem themselves together would have lost the grave, sobering impact of that message: that getting out as zuko did is the exception, not the norm, because the system in which they exist is built to be a trap. and even when that system is dismantled, the destruction it’s wrought cannot be fully erased.

the point of zuko and azula’s story lies in its inherent juxtaposition: there was never going to be room for both of them to rise or even fall together, not in the world in which they were raised and the virtues it extolled. and it’s because zuko exists as who azula could have been and azula exists as who zuko might have been, that their individual arcs are so powerfully poignant, and their relationship so infinitely tragic.



[dollwrites]

sʟᴏᴡ ʀɪᴅᴇ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ᴋʏʟᴇ ʀᴀʏɴᴇʀ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!lantern!reader, reader is also an alien ( improper use of her tail ), kyle’s a little dorky, oral sex ( m!receiving ), kyle whimpers it’s canon bc i said so, praise kink, anal play ( him! ), slight overstimulation, cum swallowing, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 ∣ act two [ road head ]

Kyle was trying desperately not to bite down on the fleshy webbing between his thumb and forefinger— it was a childish reaction to the way you were making him feel, but the alternative was a sharp whimper that was already dribbling free. “Mn— fffuc—“ he can’t help it. he bites down on his palm, his other hand on the glowing, green steering wheel. it was all for show, of course. the construct Cadillac could drive itself, there was no need for him to navigate through the speckled, black sector of space that was nearly void of any intergalactic traffic. but there was a certain eroticism to this that he couldn’t help but sink into the fantasy. you were splayed across his lap from the passenger seat, your head bobbing at a wickedly slow pace. he would be lying if he said he didn’t consider resting his palm on the top of your head, instead, giving you a light and encouraging spur to suck him faster and harder. you were too skillful, and that was exactly the problem. the slower you moved, the more he could feel the undulations of your long, serpentine tongue as it wallowed against his throbbing length, and the fluttering of the split end as you flicked at his slit.

the way your face is angled, your sparkling eyes that seemed to go on for eons and eons stare up at him, it sparks a wild need for desire in his usually crystalline gaze. his pupils are blown out with lust. with one, fluid motion, you pull yourself back, his engorged tip slipping free from the confines of your warm, wet mouth with a sticky pop, and you purr, amused to see him so flustered. “You said you’ve fantasized about this, Green Lantern Kyle Rayner?”

Kyle sucked in a breath when he could no longer take the pressure of his own teeth against his skin, and pried his hand out from between them, nodding, but his shoulders knit up when he feels the tickle of your long, slender tail snaking up the inside of his thigh. “So many times… since I first got my driver’s license, heh…” he let out a nervous breath of a chuckle. his eyes flit to watch the way it writhes, before coiling where his cock meets his groin.

but you were still staring. with large, unblinking, questioning eyes. you almost looked as if you had no control over the naughty tendril, but he knew that you did. “What’s a driver’s license?” you repeat the term, foreign on your tongue, much unlike the taste of his precum that was now oozing in tight, little pearls from his slit. you wanted to taste it again, licking your lips as your gaze slowly lowers to watch, all the while, your tail wraps and wraps, entangling his shaft and sack in a warm, constricting bundle that had him whining and squirming in his seat, cursing under his breath.

he couldn’t take you staring at his throbbing, eager cock with your couplet parted and shiny, not when he knew the warmth— the nirvana that was just beyond that plushy threshold. the way your tail simultaneously milks his dick and toys with his balls only adds fuel to his already raging flame. “D-doesn’t matter,” he utters, gripping the steering wheel for dear life, until his knuckles ached. “ssshit, baby,” with his free hand coming down on the top of your head, fingers gliding between your tender antennae, he grips one and elicits a startled yelp from you, but he can’t think straight enough to apologize, yet. “Suck me again. Please.” he’s eager and wanton, pushing your head down, needing to feel the sensation of being enveloped in your perfect mouth once more, and you’re all too happy to oblige. you hollow your cheeks, creating a vacuum that sucks him in, and traps him there, and he bellows out a happy moan upon throwing his head back. “Fuck, yes…!” Kyle’s voice was trembling, his thumb rubbing the base of your thin, stalked antenna at the crown of your head, as if soothing the sting of him gripping it before. “Your mouth feels so good, uh…”

was he this desperate because he’d been lacking physical touch for months at a time, patrolling a lonely sector? or did you simply bring this out in him?

you supposed it didn’t matter, not really. pride swells in your chest, causes your heart to thump harder. you want to make him even needier. you wanted to see his face contort, watch his toned body writhe in torturous ecstasy against your ministrations.

the bulbous end of your tail begins to slither underneath his balls, where globs of your spit and his pre coats his taint. with the lightest touch, the very tip of the rounded muscle presses to it, smearing the slick further, worming between his ass cheeks and prodding his puckered hole.

the fleshy rope tightens its hold on his package, and you swirl your tongue in maddening circles around and around his tip, the thin and flicking points of it teasing his sensitive frenulum. he’s on the brink of pure euphoric insanity, pushing at your head with one hand, bracing his feet hard against the glowing floorboard, while his tense body bucks upwards, thrusting his cock deeper and deeper into your obedient mouth. he didn’t even seem to notice that you were teasing his back door, prodding the tight ring until the knob on the end of your tail could stretch it open enough and slide in.

“Oh, fff—!”

the sound Kyle makes is shock, and awe at how good it feels. his head rolls on his shoulders as if not fully attached, and he warbles around, helplessly trapped in your barrage of pleasure. moans spill out of his open mouth, sweat beading and sticking his raven bangs to his tan foreskin as he combats the intensity. “I— I can’t, oh fuck, oh shit, baby, I—“ you take his inability to articulate a coherent sentence as both a compliment and encouragement, and your tail, slick with the cocktail your bodies create, pistons at a shallow, slow pace, punching against the peculiar knot of spongy nerves that you found within him. your hands slide up his thighs, over his abs, and up towards his chest. your destination was his nipples. you pinch and roll them between your svelte, soft fingers, but for only a moment before Kyle shudders, and both hands immediately flee to grab yours. “I’m gonna cum,” he pants, and presses his palms flush to yours, “gonna cum, gonna— cum—“ it’s as if that’s all he could say, because that’s all he could think about. his primal instinct, the base and all-too animalistic drive to release had overtaken his brain. his thick fingers interlace with yours as he holds your hands, his head dropping back and his chest heaving. if he hadn’t been gripping your hands so tightly, his hands might’ve even shook.

with what little control of his muscles he had left, he rocked upwards against your mouth, riding his orgasm until he couldn’t go any further, croaking your name amidst the ragged breath and fervent slick skin colliding. his cock twitches in your mouth, before he empties down your throat. your eyelashes flutter upon feeling and tasting his load filling your mouth for the first time, and you look up at him as rope after rope begins to swell your cheeks, and eventually dribbles out against the sides of his cock, bubbling and frosting what few inches were not stuffed in your mouth. a few splatters even mark the holo floorboard by his feet, and he pants, rolling his head around the head rest. “Mm…nnn…” pursing his lips together, the sound vibrates them.

finally, when you felt he’s had enough, your tail unplugs him, and releases him from the bondage, and you pull yourself up to sit on his thigh. his spunk was still drooling from your lips, but you’d swallowed what you were able to keep in your mouth. the rest, you didn’t mind so much discarded, as it soaked your front and left you painted a sticky, warm white that smelled of him.

“What other ‘fantasies’ have you had, Green Lantern Kyle Rayner?” you inquire, eager to see how much more fun there was to have with him.

[leepace]

Good Boy ☆ Hwang Intak

18+ MDNI

☆ intak x a!fab reader

☆ wc: 2k

☆ warnings: pet play, cunnilingus, unprotected sex

“It’s just really embarrassing sometimes,” Intak had stormed through the front door, still rambling on about the conversation he was having mostly to himself the entire way home.

There had been one too many jokes at the expense of Intak’s feelings, which was usually only a few. Trying to coax him into taking his mind off something it was set on was always impossible, which is why you let him blabber the entire time from Jiung's to your apartment.

“And really, I don't see it. I don't think I act like a dog at all. It’s like they think I should be drinking out of a bowl,” he continued.

Taking off your shoes, you moved closer towards Intak so that you could wrap your arms around his torso, snaking your hands beneath his leather jacket. It allowed you to smell the earthiness of his cologne.

“You don't think you're a good boy?”

It was mostly a joke, but when you felt Intak gently pull away from your touch, you realized now was not the time to hint at anything funny. His demeanor stiffened as he turned to face away from you.

“This isn't funny, ok? I’m serious,” Intak said, crossing his arms across his chest.

You couldn't see it, but you knew his lips had formed into a pout, his round eyes becoming susceptible to any pleas he may need to let out. Rolling your own eyes, you raised your hand to place it on top of his shoulder, pulling at him to look back in your direction.

His strong upper body practically melting into your palm, Intak barely giving any resistance when you tugged at him. He stepped back, arms still crossed, the suspected pout displaying proudly across his face. You could also see how his pants had slightly tightened, Intak’s stance only shifting so that he could grab at the fabric, trying to hide the fact that your words had awakened something in him.

“I can see why they compare you so much,” you started, Intak staring at the floor. “You’ve got those big puppy dog eyes, and I don't think your current attitude is helping your case. You look like you've got your tail in between your legs.”

Your hand left his shoulder as you turned to walk further into the apartment. Making your way towards your shared bedroom, you felt a tug at your hand, pulling you back into close proximity to Intak. You should have known better, Intak not being able to let this go, similarly to how a dog refuses to drop a toy.

He pouted, looking as though he was ready to stomp his feet down like a stubborn child. “If I’m a dog, then I’m the ones that bite and bark,” it was like he had grown in size as he straightened his back.

Not letting go of you, Intak tugged you by your hand to lead where you were originally heading. His grip was strong, like he was desperate to get you into the bedroom. And he was; the moment he stopped, Intak got to work by tearing off your clothes, turning around again for you to see his tented pants.

“I think it’s cuter than that,” you confessed after lifting your arms for him to remove your shirt, the fabric going over your head. “Unless you wanted to prove me wrong?”

Intak’s mouth connected to your neck, his tongue lapping at the skin before using his teeth to bite down. Leaving kisses behind, he trailed upward before latching his lips onto yours, hungry and wet. Reaching for your hips, he pressed himself against you, making you feel the growing hardness that was trapped in his jeans.

It made you disconnect your lips, a short string of spit forming between the two of you as you broke away. “You’re one sick puppy.”

A sigh came out of Intak, his grip around your hips tightening enough for him to lift your feet off the floor, throwing you onto the bed. The billowing comforter broke your fall, but his sudden dominance still took away all of the air in your lungs. He was quick to get on top of you, his large stature overtaking your vision. He kissed you once more on the lips before trailing back your neck.

His movements were painstakingly slow, licking and nipping at the thin skin. Making his way down, he got to your collarbone only to begin to suction his lips around it, creating a large hickey. Lifting his head, Intak admired his work before returning to his current task. Using one hand to grope at your breast, his mouth went to the other, flicking over your nipple with his tongue. With goosebumps rising across your arms, you shivered under his touch.

He detached his mouth from your chest to go lower, carelessly sprinkling kisses down your stomach, stopping at your navel. The only thing keeping Intak away from your bare skin was your underwear, which he swiftly tore down your legs so that you were on full display for him. His eyes were transfixed on your pussy, taking in the fat lips and pink folds that encompassed your clit. You caught him rutting down against the bed, his hips moving to relieve the growing ache in his groin.

Intak had gotten low enough so that he was at eye level with your cunt, placing the pad of his thumb without any warning. Soft moans came from above, escaping your lips as he started to play around with your clit, rubbing counter clockwise circles and using his pointer to squeeze it between his fingers. Your moans became a desperate whimper the more he toyed with you, creating a half smile forming on Intak’s face.

“I’m not sick,” Intak started, the pressure on your clit becoming heavier. “I’m loyal, to this, to you,” he was still on the trajectory of being man’s best friend.

Sinking his head down with your legs hiked up against his shoulders, he licked a strip from bottom to top, immediately covering you with his saliva. Opening your tightly shut eyes, you looked down to find him already staring back at you, his pupils blown as he suctioned his plump lips around your clit.

The connection was overwhelming as you met Intak by rolling your hips, burying his face, soaking it with the slick between your legs. He grunted in response, clear in his enjoyment of eating you out and the way you tasted. He made you yelp out when he grazed his teeth, taunting the inflamed skin. Instead of biting down though, he flattened his tongue to lap against your swollen clit, once, twice, with an eagerness that sent a message to the growing heat inside your gut.

Intak’s lips parted, lifting his head only so that his mouth was free to move, his hot breath still blowing against your cunt. He placed a hand just below your navel. “I’m going to fuck you so deep I reach your stomach.”

Thrown into a tailspin, you responded by whining out, the lack of touch being completely torturous with his sentencing given to you. You didn't have to say anything for him to lower his head again, his wet chin disappearing. This time his grip around your stomach tightening and his other hand reached for your thigh, his fingertips indenting the fatty flesh. Ignoring your clit, he skipped it to lick his way inside of your hole.

Your hands went to his hair, his moppy bangs being the perfect reigns for you to grab onto. He groaned against your leaking cunt again, creating a vibration that rippled through your body. His velvety tongue swirled, fucking you open to take his cock.

Drawing back, Intak rested his weight against his heels so that he could lift his shirt about his head, hastily continuing to undress by fumbling with the button of his jeans. Roughly shaking them off his legs along with his underwear, he revealed the precum that had poured out of his dick, and how it was smeared across the head. He hissed out when he wrapped his fingers around it, pumping his fist a few times before lining himself up.

Before nudging his cock inside, Intak rutted it against your pink needy lips, rocking back and forth between the shiny folds of your pussy. It was warm and obscene, the sound of him rubbing against you ringing in your ears. The contact made you shake, the anticipation making you grab at his hips, your fingernails digging at his sides. He got the message that way, slipping his cock further down so that it was pressing against your pillowy hole.

“Am I a good boy?” He asked, resisting from moving further until you answered.

You squirmed under him, rocking your hips, doing anything to try and get him inside of you. When you didn't answer, he asked again.

“Am I a good boy? Tell me,” He whined, his voice innocent in comparison to his actions.

“You’re a good boy! You’re a good boy,” you practically shouted, dripping with desperation.

“I’m you’re good boy. Only yours,” his words were met with him thrusting forward, the tip of his cock stretching out your hole to take the rest that followed, sinking down until he bottomed out. His hanging jaw let out a string of curse words and groans as he felt you convulse around him, hooking your legs to wrap them around his waist, pushing him irresistibly deeper.

Intak’s hips jerked back, only to come crashing down onto yours. His pace was unforgiving from the start, the heavy scent of sweat and sex filling the air. The inside of your brain had turned into mush the longer he fucked into you, the length of his cock filling every inch of your clenched cunt. He barely had room to breath, swearing you could feel him reach your cervix whenever he got especially needy with his harsh strokes.

The crook of your neck was overtaken by Intak, his hair in the perfect position for you to latch onto, hearing breathy moans coming from where he had hidden his fucked out features. A hand went to your breast, kneading, before taking your nipple into his fingers, giving it a twist.

You pulled the hair at his neck. “Intak–, fuck, please,” you begged for nothing in particular.

Intak raised his head, his hands going to either side of you so that he could raise his body above you. “Please what? Do you want to cum?”

His steady pace slowed, dragging his cock against your walls as he restrained. Shaking your head yes, you dropped your legs to begin to meet his thrusts shamelessly. In response, Intak grabbed at your waist to stop you from moving, quickly reaching down to then grab at your thigh to hitch it above his shoulder, his arms now wrapped around your leg.

Rolling his hips, his cock was flushed against you, throbbing, until he reeled back to continue the pace he started with. He dragged you towards him, working his hips hard. “You’re going to cum around my cock,” his hips buckled with his demands “And I’m going to fill you up until you're leaking.”

It was like Intak had pushed you off the side of a cliff, making you fall into your orgasm with no way out. It rippled through you, causing you to tighten your grip around his cock. His strokes became short, barely managing to move in the tightness. You could feel how it pulsed, begging to coat your insides. He thrusted once, twice, and then he was coming, his short nails digging into your thigh, allowing him to fuck himself through his orgasm.

Letting go of your leg so that it dropped back onto the bed, he snaked his way back up to kiss you, the lingering taste of you still on his lips. Intak kissed as if he was never going to kiss you ever again, licking into your mouth with a desperation. He stayed there inside of you until he was soft, breaking away from the kiss to take the spot on the bed next to you with a huff.

You looked over to him in a daze. “How about a leash and collar next time?”

Intak didn't have to answer to let you know how he felt about that idea, a blush spreading from his ears to his chest, and the lame twitch of his softened dick.

[talonabraxas]

Carl Jung on “Our Uroboros.”

Prof Jung:

That is the hero again. The snake always means resurrection on account of shedding its skin.

According to an African myth, there was no death on earth originally; death came in by mistake.

People could shed their skins every year and so they were always new, rejuvenated, until once an old woman, in a distracted condition and feeble-minded, put on her old skin again and then she died.

That is the way death came into the world.

It is again the idea that human beings were like snakes originally: they did not die.

It was a snake that brought the idea of death to Adam and Eve in Paradise.

The snake was always associated with death, but death out of which new life was born.

But what is that definite symbol? A great deal has been said about it lately.

Miss von Franz: The Ouroboros.

Prof Jung: Exactly. The tail eater, or the two animals that devour each other. In alchemy that is represented in the form of the winged dragon and the wingless dragon that devour each other, one catching the tail of the other and forming a ring.

The simplest form is of course the dragon or the serpent that bites its own tail, so making the ring; the tail is the serpent and the head is as if it belonged to another animal.

The same idea has also been expressed by two animals, the dog and the wolf, devouring each other, or the winged and the wingless lion, or a male and a female lion, always forming a ring, so that one cannot see which is eating which.

They are eating each other; both destroy and both are destroyed.

And that expresses the idea that once the hero eats the serpent and once the serpent eats the hero.

You see, in these Gnostic rituals, or the ritual of Sabazios, man is superior to the serpent in a way-he makes use of the serpent.

That the golden snake descends through the body of the initiate means that the initiate asserts himself against the divine element of the snake: he is then a sort of dragon that

eats or overcomes the other dragon.

So it is one and the same symbolism whether expressed in this form or that.

In primitive myths it is usually the dragon that devours everything.

Even the hero, who by sheer luck and at the last moment succeeds in destroying the monster that has eaten him, cannot overcome the monster by a frontal attack, but he is able to defend his life and destroy the monster from within by the peculiar means of making a fire in its belly.

Fire is the artificial light against nature, as consciousness is the light which man has made against nature.

Nature herself is unconscious and the original man is unconscious; his great achievement against nature is that he becomes conscious.

And that light of consciousness against the unconsciousness of nature is expressed, for instance, by fire.

Against the powers of darkness, the dangers of the night, man can make a fire which enables him to see and to protect himself. Fire is an extraordinary fact really.

I often felt that when we were travelling in the wilds of Africa.

The pitch dark tropical night comes on quite suddenly: it just drops down on the earth, and everything becomes quite black.

And then we made a fire.

That is an amazing thing, the most impressive demonstration of man’s victory over nature; it was the means of the primitive hero against the power of devouring beasts, his attack against the great unconsciousness, when the light of consciousness disappeared again into the original darkness.

Now, in the alchemistic symbol of the two animals that devour each other, that peculiar functional relationship of man’s conscious to the natural darkness is depicted, and it is an astonishing fact that such a symbol developed in a time when the idea of the manifest religion was that the light had definitely overcome the darkness, that evil-or the

devil-had been overcome by the redeemer.

In just that time, this symbol developed, where darkness and light were on the same level practically; they were even represented as functioning together in a sort of natural rhythm.

Like the operation of the Chinese Yin and Yang, the transformation into each other, being conceived and born of each other, the one eating the other, and the one dying becoming the seed of itself in its own opposite.

This symbol of the Taigitu expresses the idea of the essence of life, because it shows the operation of the pairs of opposites.

In the heart of the darkness, the Yin, lies the seed of the light, the Yang; and in the light, the day, the Yang, lies the dark seed of the Yin again.

This is often represented in the East as two fishes in that position, meaning the two sides or the two aspects of man, the conscious and the unconscious man.

Now this preparation should make us understand the situation of the shepherd and the serpent.

What does it mean in the psychology of Nietzsche-Zarathustra that he suddenly discovers that shepherd in deadly embrace with the serpent?

He is apparently swallowing the snake, but the snake is attacking him at the same time, penetrating him.

Why such an image, or symbol, at this place?

You remember in his discussion with the dwarf just before, the dwarf was already the chthonic power. ~Carl Jung, Zarathustra Seminar

[mothxmoons]

Hey there! Naga Wesker. Double penises and egg-laying possibilities are included. Have this man be coiled up sleeping perfectly fine and then the reader, be it rookie or otherwise, chucks a bunch of pillows into the pocket he formed and uses him as a warm pillow nest.

Give it to me baby!

It’s egg season :3

Tw: Afab but gn reader, oviposition, talks of breeding, womb talk

Wesker was nesting in your bedroom, clothes stolen from your closet, your blankets, your pillows, anything he could get his hands on. This however would not be enough for him, as always. He’d need you in his hands as soon as you came home, and you wouldn’t be able to leave the bedroom for the next couple of…days, maybe a week. Most likely a week as he has long nesting periods and is overcome with the urge to breed. He needs you to be full of his eggs, his spawn, your children. He is a snake hybrid and he goes through these things and god dammit he wanted you so badly during these times.

That’s exactly what he was feeling at this moment, rubbing his dicks against the pillows, rutting and panting hard. Biting the edge of the pillow as he grunted and groaned loudly, basically whining, wanting for you to come back home. His long black naga tail tangled with your blankets and clothes that smell the most like you, claws digging into your mattress and pillows, holding on for dear life. Growling like a feral dog into your pillow as he smelled your scent like a drug, his eyes rolling back as he gasped into your pillow.

He heard the door open and immediately shot up to see you walk into the bedroom.

“Again with my clothes, sweetheart? It takes forever to clean that.” You said with a playful smile, gesturing to the clothes of your’s tightly wound around his tail and some even made it away around his dicks.

He growled at you, lurching forward to grab you, immediately throwing aside all the pillows, blankets, and clothes into the nest. Finally! Finally you were underneath him. His hands were caging your head under him, his lower abdomen was right between your legs, dicks slapping onto your shirt. Wesker barely contained himself from ripping your clothes off, tearing them to shreds, but he held back and lifted every single article of clothing off of your body, drooling with every piece you shed. Teeth on your neck, trying to enter you through your underwear and growling when he can’t. Through frustration, he rips off your underwear by the seams, pressing you flush against his hips, his dicks rubbing against you, bare, skin to skin. His dicks were large on their own, girthy and long, with ribs poking out of the bases. It was a struggle for you to take on of them, but tonight Wesker had something different in mind.

His chest smushed against your’s, face in your neck, rutting against you, trying to make his dicks fit. It takes a little rubbing and moving his hips away, but he gets only one dick inside, the other sliding up to your stomach. Wesker growled, leaning back up to see why he felt warmth on one dick only. He was obsessed with trying to fit both of his dicks inside of you. It would be snug but it would feel so good.

He pulled back, his dick coming out of you, using his hand to guide both of his dicks together.

“You’ll fit them for me, right my love?” He whispered into your ear. He ground his dicks against you, until finally they slipped in, earning a long moan from him. Forcing his head back, leaning up from your chest.

“See? Ah…so tight…you’re so warm.” He chanted like a mantra, your name on his lips, his head in your neck. His hands wandered your soft skin, squishing your hips and thighs, pressing slow kisses to your neck as you struggled to fit the rest of cocks into you.

“Wesker….” You groaned, feeling the dicks squeeze their way through your walls, how stiff they were was felt. He chuckled as he sank deeper into you, the ribs on his dick rubbing against your walls, hissing in delight. He smirked against your neck as he began to move slowly.

“Ah…such a good little pet…” His smooth but cocky voice sounded in your ear like a beautiful symphony. Groaning and moaning, he couldn’t contain himself. Panting and staring down at you as he thrusted both of his dicks inside of you, chanting about breeding you, wanting you full of him.

“Take my eggs. Take them.”

Rutting against you, hip to hip, moaning lightly again before going back to wild thrusting. He almost gasped as you grabbed his arms, digging your nails into him, and groaned as they left angry red marks. Wesker’s long snake tail curled around the bed sheets, taking them with him as he thrusted. He pulled back just to grab your legs and put them on his shoulders, and pushed back in, growling into your face.

His thrusts synced with your gasps, and he relished every second as Wesker’s eyes rolled back before landing back onto you. With a smirk he leaned down to you, your shoulders being touched by your knees, and kissed you deeply on the lips. He swallowed every moan from you, as his dicks hit the deepest parts of you, making a home inside of you, he could only smirk and roll his eyes back while he kissed you for all it’s worth.

He moaned longingly, slamming his dicks deep into you, hips squished against you. And you could feel it. Every moan he gave, every egg slipping through his dick and into you, your womb. His children. Your children. You moaned at every movement of them inside, into you. They were oval shaved and small compared to him but to you they were rather large and you could feel them bump against your cervix before pushing their way inside. You could feel the bump in your lower abdomen, you could feel the swell, the pleasure the gave you was better than anything. Whether or not they were duds was unknown to either of you, as it was way too early into his season to know, not that you two could keep track of it.

“Take them, my dear. Take them.” He moaned into your ear, you could feel his breath on your neck. His arms circled you, around you, your legs propped in his shoulders and just so close to your ears, making room for his head.

Your walls shivered around him, he moaned more, loving how they hugged him. You felt a warm sticky sensation fill you, it spilled out onto the sheets, pouring past his dicks.

He stilled for a long time, enjoying the euphoric haze of breeding, letting himself feel you clench and squirm around his dicks, still not used to both of them inside of you. Wesker leaned back, letting your legs fall to his waist, and panted out into the openness, suddenly feeling the heat of all the blankets and clothes wrapped around his tail. Blankets and clothes that would need to be washed as soon as he was done. But…he leaned back down to you, watching you try to catch your breath.

“One more time, my dear? Just one more.”

He just needed to be sure. He just wants to make sure is all.

[hiskillingjar]

pretty rave girl

Relationship: Ren Hana/MC Rating: Explicit Includes: Dubious Consent, Coerced Consent, Date Rape, Drugging, Intoxication, Hypnotism (sort of), Anime Conventions Length: 6200+ words

an rehash and extension of my hypnotism kinktober fic, very kindly requested by @frawgsie! thank you so much for your support <3

if you'd like a commission of your own, feel free to check out my post and shoot me a message!

Part One

"Can I get a Monster, please?"

"Original, Ultra White, or-"

"Pipeline Punch, obviously!” You said with an exaggerated ‘ugh!’, flicking the plastic fibres of your wig out of your eyes, heavily made up and caked in pink glitter. “Is there any other?"

The girl behind the bar rolled her eyes, probably wishing she was also partying in the ball room instead of serving you. She turned away, fetching a tall pink can from the set of fridges behind her, readily stocked for the messy nerds the hotel was reluctantly hosting over the convention weekend.

"You're such a bitch." 

Ren giggled, a little tipsy in his own right, as he pressed to your side, lolling and lazing against your shoulder. His chest hit your sweaty back, skin sticking to the thin material of his shirt, and his tail swayed cool air against your thighs as it wagged. 

"She was just asking you a question. No need to bite her head off."

"Come on, it's a dumb question!” You said, eyes flitting towards him as the girl cracked open the can and slid it towards you (lest you try and sneak anything closed into the ballroom). “How can you look at me,” You gestured downwards at the tacky Chibi Moon cosplay you were wearing, thigh highs, a short skirt and a bikini sporting a comically large bow between the cups. “And think I'll ask for anything but Pipeline Punch?"

"You have no taste.” He continued to giggle, snaking his arms around your waist and nuzzling into the fibres of your pink pigtails.“Ultra White is peak."

"Maybe if you have an eating disorder," You rolled your eyes, paying the exorbitant five dollars for the can with a tap of your phone. "Something you wanna tell me, Ren?~"

“Shut up,” He rebuked with an irked huff, a small growl escaping his throat as he squeezed you around the waist, pressing you flush against the line of his slender body and nipping at your pierced earlobe, a quasi-punishment for being ‘such a bitch’. “And drink your Monster, before you piss me off.”

"Mm, not so close,” You complained with a lip-gloss lacquered pout, taking a long initial sip from the can and smacking your lips. “It's so hot in there. I swear, I can feel sweat dripping down my crack-"

“Well, let’s stop wasting time already,” He cut you off with an exaggerated sigh, taking your free hand and dragging you towards the double doors of the hotel ballroom. “I don’t wanna miss anything good!”

"Okay, okay!" You laughed in spite of yourself, taking another swig from your can, the fruity chemicals bubbling over your tongue and satisfying your thirst, before you thrust it towards him. "Can you hold this for a second? I need to adjust my bra."

"Oh, so you're calling those two triangles a bra now?" He said with a good-natured eye roll, as you turned around and adjusted the strings of your bikini top, tightening them slightly and breathing in as they cut into the soft flesh of your chest, pushing your breasts together (and making them look fucking awesome, thank you very much). “You’re so high maintenance, I swear.”

"Now who's the bitch!" You said with an exaggerated gasp before grinning, leaning in to kiss his cheek (leaving behind a pink lip gloss print) and take your can back. "Thank youuuu~"

"Pff," He rolled his eyes again, though he couldn’t hold back a dumb smile, his hand reaching for yours once more as he pulled you back inside the crowded ballroom, the pounding music instantly loud and throbbing through every inch of your body as soon as you stepped inside, like you could feel it in your bones. "You're such a tease, y'know that?"

"I don't think you can call me a tease when you're gonna get laid at the end of the night." You commented with a cattish smirk, following behind him obediently.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, you slut~" Ren said with a mischievous smirk, his ears tilting forward with a shake of his head.

He led you through the sea of dancing people and closer towards the front of the ballroom, where a DJ (donned with a neon green furry wolf head that you guessed was probably drenched in sweat) was spinning the tracks for the night, all while a matching set of monitors were projecting visuals for the set; sped-up anime openings, well-cropped hentai and constant, flashing lights.

It made the rave's energy feel much more manic, and you loved it.

You were grinning like an idiot by the time the two of you got to the front, squeezed tight between the other dancers (some couples, some groups, some going solo), soaking up the atmosphere like a sponge, and your body was already moving in time with the music, your hips swaying, your chest bouncing and your shoulders bobbing up and down.

Ren turned to look at you, his amber eyes lecherously raking over your body from top to bottom, admiring the cheap cosplay that barely covered you, a clear lust behind his gaze. 

Not like you minded. You knew you were hot, and his validation just made you feel hotter.

"God, you look good tonight," He said loudly over the music, matching your dance moves the best he could (without a bouncing chest).

You somehow smiled even more and stroked down the length of your pigtails, before tossing them over your shoulder, your eyes half-lidded and a seductive pout on your lips.

"How good do I look, hm?" You crooned, pressing closer to him so he could hear you.

"Good enough for me to want to fuck you on the dance floor." He admitted with a brazen, fanged grin, closing the space between the two of you, his hot body pressed against yours, making it all too easy for him to roll his hips against your own, in time with the pounding bassline.

You could feel how hard he was through his jeans. 

Already. You had barely done a thing and you were already driving him crazy.

He was so fucking easy.

"You're such a nerd," You laughed, but you didn't stop yourself from pressing against him too, the back of your skirt riding up high as he slotted his groin against your backside, his hands bracketing your full hips and holding on tightly. "Seriously? I just gotta dress like an anime girl to get you going?"

"What can I say?" He hummed airily, his hands wandering up and down your thighs and groping your ass through the thin fabric of the cosplay. “I’m very weak against a very specific type of girl. It’s not my fault you fit it perfectly.”

You bit your lip to hide another big, dumb smile, feeling his hand slide higher up your skirt and toy with the elastic hem of your bicycle shorts (you had to retain some modesty, after all), like he was threatening to pull them down, and really fuck you, right there on the dancefloor, in front of everyone.

The very idea of that made you feel lightheaded.

Or was it something else? 

"Fuck, it's so hot in here," You breathed out and stood up straight after the song finished, feeling a bead of sweat run down your inner thighs and make the spandex shorts start to chafe painfully against your skin. You sighed and took another swig of Monster, before pushing your wrist against your forehead, wiping up more sweat with a grimace. “I think I might actually have to go outside, it’s a little too much.”

Instead of pulling you out of the ballroom to get some air (which you wouldn’t have expected from him anyway), Ren reached around and grabbed your wrist, tight, before guiding your hand upwards, the cool metal of the Monster can pressed back against your gasping lips. 

"You don’t need to do that. Just finish your drink, baby," He ordered softly (in a tone you knew you couldn’t argue with), hooking his chin over your shoulder and tracing his soft lips over your ear, whispering sweet words under the pounding music. "It'll help you cool down, won’t it?"

"Mmf-!" 

You spluttered in muffled (if slightly coerced) agreement as the drink hit your lips again and filled your mouth, the overwhelming sweetness making your brain pound (an after-effect of the caffeine and nothing else, surely, you had barely drank anything that night), more than the music had, more than the flashing lights and swirling colours had.

Sticky pink fluid ran down your chin as he poured more down your throat, too fast for you to swallow, and trickled over your chest, soaking into the costume.

When you glanced down (as much as you could, as much as he let you), you saw your nipples (gradually hardening to firm little buds) slowly becoming visible under the wet fabric, dusky pink beneath the soaked, white polyester, and it made something inside you throb painfully.

"Oh, look at you," Ren tutted condescendingly as he looked down at your body, keening forward so his tongue could run over the side of your chin to collect the droplets of sticky Monster. His eyes were smouldering as his free hand then pulled your hips against his once more, pushing your skirt up completely. "Such a mess. You just always need me to take care of you, don’t you?"

Hhhhh…" 

You breathed out unsteadily through your nose, heavy eyes blinking slowly (dumbly), as he poured another mouthful of energy drink down your throat, your head spinning even more. 

The crowd of bodies around you were packed in so tight, the small ballroom hot and humid (stinking of weeaboo sweat and fruity-scented vape smoke), and filled to the brim with the manic energy of a thousand nerds on their first night out, hopped up on Monster Energy and vodka, listening to nightcore remixes of their favourite anime. 

It was an infectious energy that made your heavy head pound even more.

And you didn't know if it was the caffeine and the sugar from the drink, or if it was the pounding music and flashing lights, or if it was something else entirely making you feel so...strange all of a sudden, but you knew you liked it, whatever it was.

"Oh, fuck," 

You breathed out as a new song started playing, speakers practically throbbing with droning sirens, drawled vocals and pounding bass. This was all while the twin monitors played sensorily overwhelming visuals, flashing lights, swirling spirals (pink and purple, blurred text overlaying it), half-naked anime girls and candy-sweet gore, fake blood tinged almost pink and making your mouth water. 

"This song is...really fucking good..."

"Oh yeah?" Ren chuckled, watching the way your chest heaved as he pulled the pink can away from your lips, the sugar-sweet liquid staining your chin and pooling in the valley of your heaving breasts, almost glistening against your pale skin under the harsh lights of the room. "Maybe you should...pay attention to it, hm? If it's that good~"

You barely managed to slur a meek "okay" as he pressed his free hand between your shoulder blades, suddenly forcing your chest forward and bending your body in two, before pressing his hips squarely against your backside. His hand then curled into your ‘hair’ (the shitty wig, sliding atop your head and showing off some of your real hair) and pushed your head forward, so your eyes would focus on nothing but the flashing lights and visuals on screen, and he could keep you still and stimulated.

"That's a good girl," He said as the lower half of your body moved to the beat of the music, swaying and jerking against his crotch. "Just focus on the beat. That’s it."

Your hazy eyes locked forward, almost (entirely) involuntarily (though maybe there was something a little hot about that), widening slightly as the lights sped up to match the sped-up beats-per-minute, black and white imprinted on your lids and blurring your vision.

The rest of the clubgoers blurred, too, into a muddy and abject sea of multicoloured wigs, cheap AliExpress cosplay and fursuits. 

None of them mattered. Nobody mattered here.

All that mattered were those monitors, now showing censored hentai and those overlays of pink and purple spirals, making your heart pound and your brain throb in your skull.

What little brain you still had.

Ren pressed closer to you, arching his body over your bent back, the solid weight of his body an anchor against the increasingly dizzying effect of the music and the lights.

“Y’know, you really do look good tonight, baby…”

"Heh," You laughed, breathing out unsteadily as you tried to stand up straight again. He kept you still with the hand in your hair, claws threateningly digging into your scalp (if you got any blood on this wig, you’d kill him). "Hehehe…mm…” Your hair lolled forward even more. “My head feels funny, Ren~"

Your voice was soft, sweet, almost simpering, nowhere close to the ‘bitchy tone’ he occasionally took issue with.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, a hidden smirk playing on his lips as he took in your dazed expression and the needy look in your eyes, pulling your hips closer to his crotch, so you could feel the stirrings of his arousal against the ‘gusset’ of your bike shorts. "That's reeeeally interesting, sweetheart..."

"Hhhhehehe, did you druuug me?" You laughed again as he pushed you forward, the small if persisting amount of fear barely audible in your voice over the pounding music.

"Now, why would I do something like that, hm?" He asked, his tone almost innocent, the cock to his head and the smirk on his voice audible through his facade of guiltlessness.

"I...don't know," You breathed out, licking your lips again to quell your nervousness and tasting the overwhelming sweetness of the Monster and the aftertaste of something…chalky. "I just feel so hot...and...hahhh...l-like I can’t even keep my head up. Heh," A shaky smile came to your face as you panted a little more. “I think you put something in my drink…”

"Aw, I don’t think so, baby. I think you might just be overheating…don’t you?" He asked with feigned sympathy and ignorance at your accusation, his hands then wandering across the planes of your body, the tips of his fingers trailing over the sweat-sticky bare skin of your back, your hips, your thighs. "Oh, you really do feel hot! Ah, I thought you were exaggerating! You poor thing."

"Hhhh," 

You wheezed uselessly as he pulled your shoulders upwards and trotted to your front, a little dribble of pink-tinged spittle running down your sticky chin. The music felt like it was only getting louder, though, despite him pushing you back, away from the heaving crowds of people (who were only getting more excited) and towards the corner of the ballroom.

Ren just chuckled at the sight of you, as you pressed your back against the cool metal wall of the ballroom, sliding downwards slightly, barely able to keep yourself upright.

 "God, you're pathetic," He laughed in your ear as his chest pressed against yours, your face flushed from the heat and the drugged drink, your lax body swaying to beats and lights, even when you were pinned to the wall. "You look so out of it, baby."

"Heh heh," You giggled brainlessly, trying to shut your mouth. You couldn’t stop drooling. "I...y-yeah...I guess I am."

"Yeahhhh, you're just a mess, aren’t you?" He continued to tease cruelly, his hands roaming your sides, your hips, again, thumbs hooking over the waistband of your bike shorts, threatening to pull them down completely. "But you love it, don't you? Feeling all brainless and all dizzy and needy. I bet you’re addicted to it, like you’re addicted to those fucking energy drinks~"

You couldn't say anything, your brain was only able to focus on those fucking flashing lights and the fucking pounding music, and how fucking good it was making you feel.

You had a sense that it wasn’t just sweat and Monster making you feel so wet.

"You're such a good girl, baby," He then said, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, his tongue running down to your exposed collar, tasting salt and sweet on your skin as his lips reached the sticky valley of Monster between your breasts. "And good girls get rewards, don't they?” He pulled back and eyed you with a fanged smile. “You want a reward, don't you, baby?"

"Mm," You moaned mindlessly, nodding in time with the music.

"Good girl, asking for what you want," He growled in satisfaction, his tongue tracing back up the side of your neck and to your ear as he pulled you closer. "I think you're going to enjoy it, too~"

Your hazy mind didn't catch his hand going into the pocket of his jeans (he hadn’t even dressed up, not like you had, you always made such a fucking effort to impress him), but you knew immediately what he had done when you felt a familiar device buzz to life inside your panties.

"OH!"

You had forgotten about the bullet when you got dressed that morning. 

Have you been walking around with a sex toy in your underwear all day, even when you were at the convention?

The idea of it made your cunt twinge a little.

Well, a little more.

"Mmm," Ren hummed happily, the vibrations rocking through your body to the beat of the music (it must have had a special sensor built-in or something, how much had this cost him?), just making your brain slur even more as the bass pounded on and on. "You are a naughty girl, aren’t you? Letting me do something like this to you in public?"

"I-I didn't...ohhhh~" You moaned helplessly, tipping your head back against the wall as your thighs clenched together tightly, trying to contain all the pleasure within yourself. 

Your eyes stayed open, though, half-lidded and staring ahead at those pink graphics.

"But you don't hate it, do you?" He asked, nipping at your ear, tugging at the hoop through it and pressing his fingers against the front of your shorts, forcing the small device a little harder against you, right where it needed to be. "It feels good, doesn't it?  And you look so hot like this, baby, all needy and mindless. Everyone here is going to know you're my girl and be so jealous."

Of course, you didn’t hate this.

Your full lips were slack and drooling a sticky mix of spit and energy drink down your chin and making your nipples show through your shitty costume. Your eyes were locked ahead, practically pinned in place, and your entire body was positively thrumming with pleasure, both from the vibrator in your panties and the enthralling trance you’d be put under, both only made worse by a sped-up and bass-boosted version of the Ouran High School Host Club theme song.

How could you possibly hate even a moment of this?

Hate wasn't an option you could choose, anymore. 

Just gleeful happiness.

"That's what I thought," Ren praised your non-answer with a triumphant smile, his lips trailing back to the crook of your neck and sucking at the skin, leaving a small mark (which you barely reacted to, you were so gone) before his voice dropped even lower in your ear. "And you're going to stay like this for me, all needy and pretty, all night, until everyone here can see just how filthy my baby is for me, aren't you?"

"Yessss," You drawled out with another mindless moan, the vibrator in your panties building in intensity as the droning bridge dropped and the bass began to pound. "God, yes..."

"Suuuuch a good girl," He whispered, his fangs finding the edge of your ear and biting down hungrily, his chest rising and falling against your front in time with the beat. Maybe this was exciting him as much as it was exciting you. "I want you to look at the stage, baby. I want you to watch what's on the screen for me."

You hadn’t looked away all this time, but found all the more reason not to when he was ordering you around like this.

"You don't need anything, do you, baby? You don't need to think or worry about anything, hm?" He murmured, his soft voice somehow permeating each rise and fall of the music. "All you need is to focus on is how good the music feels, how good I make you feel, and how desperately you want more…”

"Y-Yeah," You murmured softly, your hazy eyes half-lidded again as your lips went slack with another desperate wheeze of breath. "Hhhh..."

“And only good girls get to feel like this, don’t they?" He then asked, somehow turning up the bullet another notch and listening to you moan, pink spirals reflected in your glassy, doll-like eyes. “Only good girls get to feel this happy and free.”

"I'm a good girl," You smiled brainlessly, your head tilting back. "Ngh, I’m a good girl..."

"That's right," He whispered with a proud smile, nuzzling against you, the soft whisps of his hair and fur of his ears damp with sweat. "You're my good girl. Soooo, you're going to keep dancing for me, all mindless and dumb, so that everyone here knows you’re mine, and there’s nothing they can do about it. Sound good?”

"Uh huh~" 

“So pathetic. Hmm, no wonder I like you so much~”

Part Two

"Thank you so much for your help!" 

The elevator doors slid open with a low ‘ding’.

You looked up in silent alarm with an exhausted murmur, drunken and dazed and still drooling down your front, your gaze switching from one arm, which Ren had thrown over his shoulder, and the other, where a random guy (in a pretty decent Leon Kennedy cosplay) was supporting you, helping the younger man carry your slack body back up to your hotel room.

He couldn’t have done it himself, after all.

"Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do to help?” He asked, scraping the fibres of his blonde wig from his eyes. “She looks pretty out of it, man."

"Yeah, totally,” Ren smiled, his tail wagging behind you as he held onto you a little tighter, his other arm slung around your waist, protectively, possessively holding you against his smaller body, like the good boyfriend he was trying to be. “She's just a little drunk after the rave, is all. She’ll be totally fine after I’ve gotten her to lie down. Isn’t that right, sweetie?" 

He squeezed your hip hard, making you groan and lean into him a little more, playing the perfect role of a drunken girlfriend (reacting to his squeezes like a toy would). 

"You know how it is,” He added with an appreciative smile towards the stranger. “Her first con, getting excited and all..."

"Oh yeah, for sure.” ‘Leon’ nodded empathetically, following Ren as they both dragged you down the hall and towards your room. “My boyfriend is the same, totally..."

After a few more moments of polite chatter and you stumbling along with them, (the vibrator thankfully at rest in your panties, you wouldn’t have been able to walk if it was still going like it was), Ren reluctantly let go of your waist for a second to retrieve the room’s key card from his jean pocket.

"This is us!” He said, producing the card and holding you tighter. “Thanks again for your help."

"For sure.” ‘Leon’ smiled as Ren tapped the key to the door and opened it up, helping you through the door frame with a sheepishness in his posture (possibly cluing into the dynamic between the two of you, who knew). “Um, have a good rest of your night. And, uh,” He smiled again, a little awkwardly, and gestured to the space above his head. “Love your ears by the way. Super realistic!"

Ren’s tail swayed a little more as he waved the guy off happily.

"You too! Enjoy the rave!"

‘Leon’ left you to it and Ren waited patiently until he had walked down the corridor, back to the elevator, before he shut the door behind the two of you. He took your shoulder in hand and jerked you towards the hotel’s bed with an authoritative kind of promptness, like he couldn’t wait to do…whatever he had planned next.

"Makes you feel good, doesn't it?” He asked, his voice airy and casual, as you slumped on the edge of the bed with a tired moan. “Someone helping like that. People are so nice."

"Mmh..." You nodded lazily in agreement, trying to keep your head up.

Ren just chuckled watching you try to stay alert (stay guarded from whatever he had planned) and started to pace around the room, his arms crossed as he assessed the bags and boxes of figures, plushies, art prints, and…well, whatever else you saw in the convention centre that attracted your attention.

You had so little of your own. Could you be blamed for going a little ham with this stuff?

"You really spent a lot of my money, didn't you, sweetie?” He asked, placing his hands on his hips and shaking his head, as if he was scolding you for something. “I think you brought half the artist alley back up here! Mm, that's okay, though.” He smiled, a subdued sort of cruelty touching his eyes and making you shiver, his tail continuing to sway. “I have a sense that you're gonna make it up to me."

“Ren,” You murmured softly as he approached you, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a swift shove backwards, your back hitting the overstuffed mattress and stained blankets with a quiet ‘oof’. “I-I don’t feel so good…can we take it slow tonight? Please?”

“I don’t think so,” Ren crooned lowly with an indulgent smirk, moving his knee between your legs and pushing them apart, your skirt having completely ridden up and your bike shorts concealing next to nothing."God, this outfit really is hot.” He said, leaning over you then, his hands bracketing your full hips. “I'm sorry my costume didn't come in time, we would have looked so cool matching tonight…"

"What did you give me?" You slurred, letting out an unsteady breath as he reached up your skirt and pulled down your shorts, past your thigh highs and boots, and tossed them to the side. “Ren, seriously…hh, my head is fucking killing me…”

“Hm?” He looked up, his ears moving forward in alarm, before he tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "What’s that? Are you coming down, baby?” He grinned at your sudden discomfort, exposing wet fangs and eyes gleaming with malice. “Aw, don't worry, I have some more where that came from."

“More of what?” You asked, making an attempt to sit up on the bed.

He ignored your question and quickly stepped away from you then, pacing back across the hotel room to fetch another tall can of Monster from the television stand (adorned with make-up products and discarded underwear from the previous night).

 "See, it’s even in your favourite flavour~" Ren teased with another grin, cracking open the can and kneeling back on the bed, looming over you, as he shoved you back down. “Open wide!”

“MMH-!”

He poured out the first spill of Monster liberally, covering your flushed face and heaving chest with the sticky, carbonated liquid all over again, and making the blankets beneath your slack body sodden and very cold.

"You really are addicted to this stuff, aren’t you? I should just keep you fed on this…” He mused with a dirty, little titter, before reaching forward and taking your cheeks in hand, squeezing them together and forcing your mouth open in a demeaning pout. “I could just pour it into a dog bowl and leave it out for you all day.” 

He poured out another spill of it, and you had to open your mouth wide (as much as you could in his grip) to catch the majority of it, lest you be covered in even more.

“Wffh,” You breathed out a spray of the sticky fluid, covering your chin as you tried to shake your head out of his grip. “What did you give me…hhh…”

He sat himself down on your thighs then, balancing the can on your heaving chest, nestled between your sticky breasts, dusky nipples hard from the cold fluid and pressed, pornographically tight, against your bikini top.

"It's kind of funny that you're so clueless about it, you know.” He said, reaching to his back pocket and producing a plastic baggie of white powder. “Didn't you ever get a DARE class about date rape drugs, when you were still in school?” He drew his words deliberately slow as he opened the baggie, carefully pouring a small amount of the powder into the can, making it fizz and overflow across your stomach. 

He tilted his head condescendingly as he tucked the baggie away, and took hold of your face again, claws digging into your sticky skin. 

"Or did you get one, and you were too much of a dumb idiot to pay attention to it, hm?"

You swallowed another mouthful of energy drink as it poured onto your face again, the chalky aftertaste familiar from when he had drugged you before, back at the rave.

Ketamine. 

Fuck, you always had bad reactions to ketamine.

"I mean, I know they call them date rape drugs and all. But..." Ren shrugged as he poured another mouthful of the tainted Monster into your mouth, not caring when you spluttered and choked on it. "I think that sort of suggests that you're not desperate for it. When I know you totally are!" 

He licked his lips hungrily, watching as you sucked in a hard breath, just trying to breathe while you were waterboarded with fucking Monster Energy. 

"Maybe they should just call them 'date' drugs, hm? Cus they make you all...loose and ready for it, right?"

He set the half-finished can on the bedside table and pushed himself back, completely between your legs, before pressing the persisting bulge in his jeans (little pervert that he was, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been hard all this time) against the front of your panties, seeing just how wet you had gotten from his teasing back at the rave.

"Rennn..." You whined needily through a wet splutter of energy drink, raising your hips with shaky calves to meet his needy thrusts. “Gh, please-”

"Shhh, I'm right here, baby." He cooed, pulling himself back enough so he could pull the sides of your panties down your legs and enjoy you bare and vulnerable underneath him. "Mm, look at you, all wet and needy for me.” He murmured with another indulgent smirk. “Well, I guess I have an advantage in that sense, don't I?"

"NHH!"

The bullet inside of you (because it had been pushed against enough to slide in there) buzzed to life again.

When had he even gotten his phone out?

You whined loudly the second it started buzzing again, breathing hard as you squeezed your eyes shut, hips tilting upwards just trying to find even more of the sinful vibrations.

"I reeeally thought you were gonna cum down there, you know. When we were in the rave.” Ren smirked, sitting up on his knees and unbuckling his belt with dextrous hands. “Or in the elevator, in front of that strange guy.” He then reached down to unzip and unbutton his jeans, shifting forward again to rub against your buzzing opening again, his tail wagging as the vibrations clearly had an effect on him too. “Heh, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

“Mmm…ah,” You breathed out, shivering with pleasure as his hand slid up your (sticky) stomach and to your damp bikini top, teasing your nipple through the wet fabric.

"Like how you like showing off in your slutty, little bikini.” He breathed out with a little chuckle. “I'm not mad…mmh," He shifted down his boxers then, pushing your thighs open even more and giving himself a bigger space to slot his cock into. "The exact opposite, actually. It's really, reeeally hot how much you enjoy being a huge slut. Most girls don't have your sense, you know~"

You took in another sharp inhale when you felt the head of his cock rub against your cunt, teasing, threatening you with more.

"Nhhh…” You squeezed your eyes shut, your arms laying slack at your side as the drug pulsed through your veins again, just making your head spin even more. “No, no…”

“Don’t say no to me, baby. I know you don’t really mean it, after all.” He chided lightly,  the claws of his free hand digging into your thigh as he tried to push himself closer, push himself inside of you. "You know, I don't think girls like you can even get raped,” He added with another airy, aroused titter. “Mm, at least not by guys like me."

"AH!" You gasped, your eyes shooting wide and your head absolutely swimming with drugged lust as he pushed deeper into you, the length of his hard cock filling you up completely and the initial swellings of his knot pressed against your slit, wet and open and hungry. “Oh, fuck, Ren-!”

"God, you're so wet, already,” He breathed out, shoving himself closer towards you, building up an initial momentum of pounding thrusts as his chest heaved in time with each of your whines and whimpers. “I barely have any friction at all. I can just..."

You grit your teeth, eyes squeezing shut again as he pushed deeper inside of you.

"Slide in, knot first.” He grinned, half delirious with his own pleasure, a string of drool clinging to his wet teeth and dripping across your chest, breasts bouncing each time he thrust deeper inside of you, looking all the more pornographic and ridiculous. “Haha, I bet you won't even be able to cling onto my knot like this, you know. You're just so wound up and wet~"

He slapped your hip sharply, seeking some kind of physical reaction, and making you shriek and tighten up around him.

Or, well, attempt to tighten up. 

You were sort of too far gone to try doing that now.

"Fuck, why is even that getting me hot?” He breathed out, his heavy body sinking down against yours to pin you against the bed, rutting harder against you, each wet slap of flesh against flesh pushing you that much closer to your limit (whatever that limit was, you weren’t so sure anymore). “You really bring out the worst in me, baby."

“Ohhh,” You moaned loudly, unable to hold anything back with so many drugs in your system, the concoction of caffeine and ketamine (and a little booze) making you feel that much more disorientated and totally out of it. “Ren, Ren, Ren!”

“I’m right here, shhh, I’m here just for you,” He murmured, nestling close to you, his sharp cannibal teeth against your sticky neck and his tongue drawing wet lines up your skin. “I mean, hah,” He breathed hard, scenting you, intimate and sweet, contradicting his harsher actions. “I was already pretty bad. But ohhh, you just make me want to be even worse…mm,” 

You felt the cold press of his teeth against your neck, and your pelvis tightened even more.

“But I don’t need to be.” Ren pulled back from the bite, smoothing his tongue over the sore flesh (as if he was apologising for it, something he would never do with words alone) as his hips drived harder and faster against yours, pushing you into a state of quasi delirium that felt just so good. “You’re just suuuuch a gooood girl, so I don’t need to force you to do anything at all, do I? …mmmh~”

“Hah-hah-hah,” You breathed out, wrapping an arm around his neck as you felt his touch descend to the soft folds of your pelvis, trying to push you open and give himself enough space to work his knot into. “T-Too much, ngh-!”

“See, you’re saying that…” He breathed out with an unsteady exhale, pulling back enough to look you in the eye, a broad, dirty grin on his face as his thrusting resumed, never pausing for even a second of respite. “But I’m hearing that I should do more. You just like to challenge me so much, don’t you?”

You suddenly cried out as he pressed into you completely, working his knot all the way inside of your cunt, his forehead pressed to yours as you grit your teeth from the painful stretch.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He praised you with another long exhale, smiling down at you, serenely, like you were doing something truly worthy of pride. “Just like that. Fuck, you’re clenching so hard,” His eyelids fluttered (the same as yours always did) as you tightened up around him, again, only forcing him to try and thrust deeper, push his knot even more inside of you. “That’s so good, baby, so good-!”

“Oh, Ren, Ren, fuck!” You cried out, digging your nails into his shoulders. “Yes, yes!”

“Yesss, you’re so good, you like that so much, don’t you?”

“I LOVE IT!!!”

[awkward-walking-potato]

Tangled Hearts, Torn Leather

I hope you enjoy it @forgetmenot-bluepurple

The Xavier Institute was no stranger to strange pairs. In a mansion full of mutants, where fire met ice and metal bent to will, unusual combinations were a given. But there was one pairing that had everyone scratching their heads, students and teachers alike.

On one side of the equation was Kurt Wagner. The resident ball of sunshine, Kurt was all smiles, faith, and friendliness, with an unwavering optimism that seemed to glow as brightly as his golden eyes. He made friends easily, never once losing his warmth despite the harshness of the world.

On the other side, there was you. The leather-clad enigma with heavy boots that thudded ominously in the hallways, a perpetual scowl beneath your dark, tousled hair. You had an aura that screamed "keep your distance"—a tough exterior built from years of dealing with your own battles. Piercings glinted on your face, a spike-studded collar hugged your neck, and tattoos curled up your arms like snakes. If Kurt was a beam of sunlight, you were the thundercloud that blocked it out.

It wasn’t that you went out of your way to scare people; it was just how you carried yourself. You’d had to be tough for so long that it became second nature. But your intimidating exterior kept most people at bay. Students parted for you in the halls, teachers gave you wary glances, and even some of the X-Men looked at you with a mix of respect and caution.

So when people saw you and Kurt together, it was like watching fire try to befriend water. But it worked. Somehow, it worked.

It had started as a slow friendship—passing comments here and there, small gestures that eventually grew into something more. Kurt had been one of the few who hadn’t flinched when you walked into a room, who hadn’t made assumptions based on your appearance. He treated you the same as everyone else, maybe even kinder. And that had intrigued you, then warmed you, in a way you hadn’t expected.

Now, as you sat on the edge of one of the stone walls overlooking the mansion’s sprawling grounds, you found yourself lost in thought, the cool breeze playing with the edges of your jacket. Kurt was perched beside you, balancing easily despite the height, his tail flicking back and forth as he talked animatedly about a book he’d just finished.

You nodded along, your gaze fixed on the horizon, but a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of your lips. His excitement was infectious, even if you didn’t always share his enthusiasm for the same things.

People would be surprised to know how comfortable this felt—being here with him. But then, people didn’t know what went on behind closed doors. They didn’t see the way Kurt could get you to laugh, a real, deep laugh that made your sides hurt. They didn’t see the late-night conversations where you’d let your guard down, revealing parts of yourself you’d long hidden away. And they certainly didn’t see the way he’d reach out, unafraid, to touch your hand, your shoulder, or your cheek, soft gestures that spoke of a bond deeper than any words could.

“They’re looking at us again,” Kurt said suddenly, his golden eyes shifting toward the mansion. He had that knowing smile on his face, the one that told you he was amused by all the attention the two of you got.

“Let ‘em look,” you replied with a shrug, your voice low and rough around the edges, but there was no bite to it.

“Does it bother you?” he asked, his tone gentle as always.

“Nah,” you said, though you didn’t need to explain. He knew you didn’t care what others thought. But you cared what he thought, even if you didn’t say it outright.

Kurt shifted closer to you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “I’m glad,” he said, softer now, as if it were just the two of you in the world. “I’m glad you’re here. With me.”

That brought the smile back to your lips, fuller this time. “Me too, blue,” you murmured, the nickname rolling off your tongue easily. “You’re not so bad to hang out with.”

Kurt chuckled, a sound that always warmed you, even on the coldest days. “I’m honored,” he teased lightly, but there was something earnest in his voice.

For a while, the two of you just sat there in comfortable silence, watching the sun dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the grounds. The students were probably still whispering about you, wondering how the punker and the sweet German mutant had found themselves in each other’s company. But you didn’t care. The truth was, no one else had to understand what was between you two. It was something private, something that belonged only to the two of you.

“Hey, Kurt,” you said after a while, your tone more serious.

“Ja?” He turned to you, giving you his full attention.

“Thanks,” you said simply, your voice softer than usual. “For, y’know… everything.”

Kurt’s smile softened, his golden eyes warm with understanding. “Anytime, mein freund,” he replied. Then, after a pause, he added, “You’re important to me.”

The words were simple, but they carried weight. And you knew, in your own way, that they were true for you too.

You reached out, your hand finding his and giving it a light squeeze before pulling away, not one for too much overt sentiment. But Kurt knew. He always knew.

Together, the two of you stayed there until the sun disappeared, a dark cloud and a golden light intertwined, stronger together than apart. And as the first stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you knew that this—whatever it was—was real. It didn’t matter what others thought. It only mattered that, somehow, in the tangled mess of life, you and Kurt had found each other.

[pursuitseternal]

“The Ninth Day” is a 🐺howling good time with Wolfstarion in “Antics of the Newly Ascended”

Ascended Astarion x f!Reader | Explicit | 2.7K

Summary: Lord Astarion manages to offend a powerful Archdruid, resulting in a powerful curse. Don’t make jokes about being in a ‘rut’ around a Druid, Astarion learns as he’s bound in wolf form… with a very pressing need.

CW: comedy/ smut (cummedy?), humanoid werewolf smut, Wolfstarion is a bad boi, zoomies, leg humping, bad dog behavior, long hair, clawed, knotted A!A, PiV, creampie, outdoor garden sex, knotting kink

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

For every scathing glare from your staff, for every quietly chastising comment of, “The Master would disapprove,” you grow more irascible. Your footsteps echo through the Crimson Palace halls with quick succession.

“The IS the Master…” you snarl in reply with increasing irritability and flail wider to the great quicksilver wolf behind you.

His laugher rumbles in your head, louder every fucking time.

You make it to the doors of the vaults at last, away from judgmental and prying eyes before you finally snap. “You had to insult an Archdruid, you idiot,” you hiss as he sits on his haunches in the hall beside you. His wolfish mouth smirks somehow, his ears twitch with arrogance. “Not every Druid is as free spirited and forgiving as Halsin, and not every powerful, intimidating Archdruid has the humor enough for jokes about being stuck in a…. Oh what was it again…” you sneer, pretending you’ve forgotten.

“Being stuck in a rut, my darling… not being able to stand the… heat,” his voice ripples with giggles inside your head. “It was just too easy to draw out the humor of the situation. It’s not my fault he was too dense and unevolved to appreciate my witty repartee.” The wolf in front of you begins to snake his tail back and forth across the floor. Wagging it in insufferable conceit.

“It’s not funny, Astarion,” you huff. “He said your arrogance would come back to bite you.”

Your love… your wolf… bares his fangs as he tilts that pointed face up at you. “And bite I shall with these fangs. Aren’t they impressive? I have always been known for a handsome set of fangs, but these, these I could get used to, my dear.”

“I’d call you cheeky, but this borders on self-destructive, Astarion,” you grumble. Slicing your finger open on your own fang, you apply the blood to the unseen lock on the vault door. “We have to have something in here that can break your spell. We collected enough potions and spells and magical items on our journey to riffle through for days.” Inwardly you sigh, a daunting task given you’re the only one now with opposable thumbs.

You hear him padding along behind you, claws scrabbling on the white tile of the vault. “Honestly, if I could harness this form, think of the possibilities…” he muses in your head. “I could not only call on wolves but lead them, such a more ferocious form for invasions and battles than a bat.”

You hear him stop, his panting suddenly wet and loud. Turning around, you stare into his long face, those crimson eyes glowing in the dim light of the vaults, eyes set at your exact height as he sits. “I’m sure there are other… possibilities with this form we could explore together,” he croons into your head, low and dulcet and seductive tones.

You furrow your brow, watching that frame heaving with every breath he takes, his tongue lolling out slowly before he runs that dripping pinkness all around his maw. And you huff, exasperated at the untimely advance. “I’ve said no to bat sex and mist sex… why do you think this would be different?”

“Because you haven’t seen the… full portfolio of talents this form could give us, darling,” his voice rasps in your ear, tingles down your spine.

“Out,” you order, quietly but firmly. “Go outside, go take yourself for a walk in the gardens. Go mark some trees and chase some squirrels, you bad dog.”

“I prefer naughty wolf,” he corrects you with a low growl in his throat. He chuffs at you, his breath forceful enough to blow its heat on your face.

“Go outside, Astarion, before you knock over some other cursed object or break a potion bottle and make this worse.” You snarl back at him, pointing back to the hall and other stairs.

He stands, annoyed, ears twitching and pinning back as his hackles raise slightly. “You’re being rather demanding, my consort.”

“And you’ve already been enough trouble, thank you,” you grumble, turning to the shelves to start your search for an antidote or counterspell. “I’ve already had word sent to Halsin, you come fetch me the moment his reply arrives.”

“Cheeky, bossy little pup,” he snaps, claws clacking as he retreats as ordered, “I’ll go.”

It seems hours pass as you push through spell scrolls and potion bottles. Every so often he whines at you down your bond. Begging to be let back in. You shake your head and remind him to be a good boy and keep an ear out for word from Halsin. At first, your replies are returned with his little flickers of happiness from your praise, but after an hour or so, they have decidedly gotten more annoyed, more whiny and impatient.

At last, you rummage through one last ancient, weathered bag. “Ah ha! I found one!” you exclaim to yourself. A Remove Curse scroll.

But your love must be eavesdropping as you hear his voice inside your head again. “Hurry… something is….”

His voice turns guttural, a gruff pant at the back of his throat. And then, sniffing.

“I’m coming,” you reply, picking up your skirts and clutching the scroll as you hurry towards the gardens.

A servant stops you as you hustle through the foyer, a note from Master Halsin having just arrived. Gripping it in your hand too, you make for the gardens. Hedges line the pebbled path, large canine footprints scatter across it, four-toed and claw-marked prints run all helter skelter. Silver fur catches here and there on the ground, as if someone had a really good scratch.

He’s nowhere to be seen, even with all the evidence that he is here. You feel eyes on you. “Astarion, it’s not a game,” you chide him, pulling out the scroll of Remove Curse, just in case.

You hear his paws rush you, his fangs snapping shut and tearing the scroll, a barking laugh in his furry throat as he tears it with every shake of his head.

“No! Bad Ascendant!” you chide, using the unchewed half of the scroll to whack him.

Astarion… or whatever he is now… shakes his head and ripples his thick, curly white coat as he barks his laughter.

His crimson eyes are deep set in that pointed skull, glowing in the afternoon light. His frame is rigid, taut, stalking you on thick, silent paws as he approaches.

“Oh… darling…” he calls inside your mind, his voice is sing-song and seductive, taunting you darkly, playfully.

“Oh… shit…” you reply. “No, no, absolutely not.” You back away once you’ve eyed that massive, smooth, and pink cock hard beneath him. “Go run around or something….”

“Or something?” he chuckles, low in his wolf-throat.

“You just had to joke about ruts and heat, now look at you,” you scowl, exasperated. “You brought this on yourself, arrogant asshole.”

“Arrogant asshole with a massive, knotted cock,” he chuckles, prowling closer and closer. “Come on, darling, aren’t you the least bit curious? Or perhaps I can play on that hero’s conscience. Won’t you help a poor, pathetic creature? Won’t you give me aid?”

“I am aiding you, just not by spreading my legs, you mongrel.” He just laughs, deep in his chest as he starts to sniff at your skirts. Distraction, you need a distraction. You scan the garden, a nice thick stick beside you… Halsin’s letter in one hand, you grab the twisted branch with the other and shake it. “Go on…” you tease it close to his maw as you had with Scratch all that time ago… “Come on, my good boy…”

His wide white ears twitch happily at that moniker, his bushy tail wagging. That cute pet name breaks the haze of his lust, tapping into the only thing he seeks more than sex… praise.

“That’s right, good boy, you wanna play?” your tone is childish, and he would undoubtedly take insult if his mind wasn’t running on horny-wolf-heat hormones. Using all your vampiric bride strength, you toss the stick across the gardens, hoping you hit the back wall to give you enough time to read the missive from Halsin. As he bolts off on four legs, you deftly use your two hands to tear open the seal and skim read.

Powerful Druidic enemies… arousal curse… induces heat and rut… let the boy tire himself out… a few hours at worst…

“Fuck,” you curse, hearing his panting beside you. His nose prods into your hands.

“Why does that smell like bear, my consort?” he drools, sniffing and panting at the parchment in your grasp. You ball it up and chuck in into the distance too.

Instantly, his four paws scramble after it, kicking up gravel to scatter in your face. “For fucks sake…” you grumble, collapsing to a granite bench and taking a sigh. “Just have to let him tire himself out. Godsdammit, Halsin!” you groan, hearing those fateful paws loping back at you.

“Halsin?” he growls, possessive ire just starting to ripple down your bond. “Is that why you stink of bear?” He plants those front paws heavily on your bent knees, claws scratching through your skirt. “You are mine… how dare you smell like another male,” he’s snarling, a full set of canine teeth glinting in the sun.

“Relax, it’s just Halsin, my love,” you laugh, but it only makes him furrow those bushy lupine brows and chuff in your face. “Feeling… threatened?” you tilt your head, smirking. “Worried you’re not the alpha?”

“I am always the alpha,” he barks out loud and snarls into your mind. His body lurches to cover you, filling your face with thick, white fur. Paws press on either side of your body, and at first you giggle at his troublemaking…. Until you feel him humping your leg. His voice repeats over and over terms of his possessive love.

“Dammit, Halsin,” you groan inwardly, bemoaning that there is no better advice than to just let him wear himself out… and so you sit there for a few long minutes.

He pants with every grind… until with a wave of magic, and a burst of fur, Astarion leans over you in all his vampiric glory. His eyes are wide with surprise, almost suddenly aware of himself. “What in the hells…” he looks at where he’s grinding against your leg.

Your jaw drops as the magic seems to shimmer around you, his form shifted but not… quite. Long, curled, rumpled hair falls to his shoulders, those eyes still glowing crimson, his teeth all sharpened into feral points as he looks at you agape as well. Long clawed nails still dig into your thighs, as he catches his breath. Your love, somewhere between elf and wolf and vampire, sputters like a child at his own transformation. And you giggle. “Your aim is a tad off,” you tease. “But it’s good to have you back, my love.”

“My aim?” He huffs, supremely offended as he shifts between your thighs to kneel in the mess of your skirts. “I’ll have you know…”

You pull his hand up to kiss his palm, letting him see the new monstrous claws at the literal tips of his fingers. “What did that wretch of a Druid do to me?” he growls, his voice still ragged and lupine deep in his chest.

You cock your brow, pulling the long strands of his quicksilver hair out and twirling it so he can see. Finally, you run the soft pad of your thumb along his bottom lip, sliding it inside to drag over the razor points of all his teeth. “It’ll wear off, I’m sure,” I croon. “Now, I believe you were trying to prove yourself ever the alpha?”

He runs a single claw down your cheek, the edge just hard enough to make your skin prickle and your spine shiver. “I’m afraid, darling, there’s not much I need to prove. You’re mine, remember?”

His usually dulcet tones are darkened with gravel, his smirk a pointed snarl behind his lips. That spell still quakes in his bones, his strength still thrumming with magic as he pushes you down along the top of the bench. The granite, hard and cold and unyielding beneath you, is barely wide enough for your hips. But Astarion doesn’t notice, or he doesn’t seem to care—not as that potent need to rut and mark you as his hums in his veins. Long nails tear at your silken skirt as he fumbles to lift it around your hips, the fabric rending over each claw. He just laughs again as he wraps his arms around you and effortlessly slides you across the rough stone, yanking you until you bare folds press against his hips.

You gulp, that outline of his erection also still inexplicably altered. You can feel it—hot and long and… knotted.

“Hells, Astarion,” you gasp, “you’re still…”

“Mmm, yes, I am,” he grinds against you. “I shall have to write that humorless wretch of an Archdruid a thank you note for what I’m about to do to you.”

His claws make a mess of his buttons, sending the little brass rounds flying into the gravel. It’s how you know he’s too blinded by the magic, too possessed by his need to fuck if he’s ruining his clothes. The thought barely has time to make you laugh before he claws back into your hips and sheathes himself inside you, stopping only at his knot. His fanged mouth opens to groan in relief, your warm wet satisfying the drive of the magic that still courses in his body.

He bends into you, kisses planted inside your thighs, his sharp teeth nipping into your flesh but enough to bruise and mark you. Just enough to tease you with pain as those hips roll hypnotically into your cunt. With every thrust, his knot bumps against your folds, barely parting them. Already you’re too full, that monstrous length ramming you gently as he takes his time. The smooth swipe of his cock into you quickens your heart and draws out your wetness, but it’s his damned mouth along your calves that muddles your every thought. “Fuck,” you curse, your voice barely more than a rattle as he just laughs in reply.

“Fuck, indeed,” his words rumble, muffled against your flesh as he bites your skin with all his might in that tender, ticklish underside of your knee.

Your scream bounces off the garden walls, a sound that has long ceased to draw the help of your servants.

He picks up his pace, now it's punishing and rough, his body chasing his release and craving the end of his heat as he ruts. His eyes practically glow as he stares intensely where you join, his teeth bared and his claws dug into your hips. The instant his crimson gaze flickers up to yours, your climax rams through you harder than even he’s fucking. It tears you apart with pain and pieces you back together with pleasure. For every growling grunt he makes, you sigh; for every scrape of his nails down your skin, your back arches off the granite and your limbs tremble. You babble his name amidst the screams he coaxes from your lips, but nothing breaks your voice like the moment he shoves that knot deep inside you. His snarl roars above you, cracking his own vocal chords, claws gripped into the fabric of your skirts. Eyes wild and wide, he smiles that sharp-toothed smirk at you for a split second before lowering himself in for a kiss. A kiss all fangs and tongue and hot breath. A groan slips past your teeth, your belly aching with pressure as his cum fills you, locked hard and fast inside by that infernal knot.

The slightest shift of his body, and his knot tugs against your walls, a cry ripping from your mouth in response.

“Careful, darling. Don’t spoil the fun. We still have to make the most of this gift,” he purrs and chuckles and caresses your thighs again. “I’m thinking… we can probably work in two… maybe three more times before the magic is completely gone…” he smirks and snaps his mouth of monstrous teeth together.

You lay back, laughing and cursing Halsin’s advice… to just let him tire himself out.

[awyeahitssam]

Based on the idea that Malfoy could not get the vanishing cabinet to work effectively, and decided to mention, instead, that Hogwarts was taking the Great Hall wards down for a six-fucking-week course on Apparation. This is what wouldn't happen. But it's where my mind went, first. Warning: Graphic Violence

A loud crack signified the first successful Apparition. 

Harry’s eyes, closed in preparation for his own attempt, snapped open and his head turned. It wasn't a student standing at the other end of the Great Hall, though. Harry jolted for his wand as other students began to turn to the cloaked figure, but before he could take aim there were four more sharp cracks. 

Dark-robed, masked Death Eater’s were apparating directly into the Great Hall, the only place the castle wards were down for Hogwarts students to learn how to do the same. 

Bellatrix LeStrange was the first to appear sans mask, having no need for discretion. She took in the scene with a cackle, batting away Harry’s immediate curse effortlessly as she cooed, “Aww, look at the wittle student's trying to learn!” 

In his periphery Harry saw Neville lift his own wand, and they cast simultaneously. This time, Bellatrix twisted out of the way. “Do the wittle babies wanna play?”

“Sectumsempra,” Harry hissed with malice, fully aware of the spell's effects, now. Bellatrix’s eyes widened a bit even as she turned out of the way, quick as a dancer. The Death Eater behind her fell to their knees as their body was pulled apart by deep, horrible gashes. 

More cracks sounded; Harry began to send out indiscriminate stunners, hoping to catch the intruders before they realised they were being cast at. They all came prepared for battle to have begun, shield charms springing around them immediately. 

“Bombarda!” Ron called grimly. 

“Expulso!” shouted Neville. 

“Protego Maxima,” murmured Hermione. “Accio Susan Bones. Protego. Stupefy—students to the teacher's entrance!”

The frozen bodies of some of their yearmates seemed to jolt, realisation settling. Many students turned tail and ran. 

Susan Bones, having narrowly been pulled out of the way of a powerful cutting curse that had gouged into stone walls by Hermione, was casting stunners, petrification hexes, and disarming charms. Harry was not nearly so restrained, once he realised the stunners were ineffective. Sectumsempra broke through shields like a battering drill and Death Eaters were falling, ripped apart by his fury. Curses flew from Harry's wand as fast as he could think of them: conjunctivitis, blasting, jelly-fingers, reductors, even slug-vomiting. He conjured six venomous snakes that shot off without instruction, knowing his will. Yet again and again, Harry came back to the Half-Blood Prince’s spell, the most devastatingly effective of them all. People were dying from its effectiveness, but Harry didn’t care, because they had dared step foot in Hogwarts—  

A horrible pressure was building in Harry’s head as half the hall emptied. A wand prodded Harry’s spine, and he stilled, shaking with rage and adrenaline. “Call—call off the snakes, Potter,” a somewhat familiar voice demanded shakily.

“I’d rather they bite your father, Nott,” said Harry coldly. “Drop your wand before I have to make you regret it.” 

The wand trembled, for a moment, against his spine. “C-Cruci—”

Harry drove his elbow back, hard, and slammed down one foot on Nott's. The taller boy stumbled back in pain, and it was no great difficulty to stun him. He hit the floor, hard, and Malfoy’s grey eyes were large and frightened as he stared at Harry, still as prey. 

At once, Harry realised what he had done “You,” he said, scar pulsing horribly. “You did this. You brought war to a school filled with literal children, you stupid, useless brat. You're scared of what Voldemort will do to you? Just wait, Malfoy. His punishment would be bliss compared to what you deserve for this.”

“Such a temper, Harry Potter,” came Lord Voldemort’s cold voice. He had made no sound as he apparated, not like his followers, but Harry’s viciously prickling scar had made his imminent arrival clear. “You have done well, Draco. You will be… rewarded.”

Malfoy’s eyes darted in fright from Harry to the Dark Lord, and Voldemort was barely in time to hiss “Stop,” to the snake that had snuck up on the boy. 

“You don't obey him,” Harry hissed, “you’re mine. Do what you’re made for, dear one.”

Draco turned just in time to see the snake strike out at his neck. It vanished before its fangs could load the boy with venom, and Harry turned his hateful scowl to Voldemort, who’s gaze already rested upon him, intent, heavy and fascinated. 

“Deal with it, Hermione,” he snapped. 

“Harry—” came Hermione’s warning voice, but Harry couldn’t listen, had to dodge out of the way of Voldemort’s spell. The Dark Lord tilted his head, stare thoughtful, and then turned his yew wand… away. 

Harry watched him with a wariness not misplaced: Romilda Vane, nearly out of the Great Hall via the Professor’s entrance, fell to the cruciatus curse with a cry of pain. 

“Drop your wands, children,” the Dark Lord said, red eyes still locked on Harry as his soft, cold voice echoed through all corners of the room, carried by wandless magic. 

Harry grit his teeth at the seeming opportunity, well aware of Voldemort's objective. And yet, truly, he could not have picked a worse target to try and bring Harry under his control than the girl who had nearly raped him. He cast a wordless sonorous on himself to refute the order: “Don't give an inch. There are First Years in these walls. Do to them what you would to Umbridge. They're twice her threat. Any student who raised a wand to help Voldemort’s sect will be treated as hostile. See how I handle my enemies, Goyle, and ask yourself if that cheap shot is worth your life.”

Even as he spoke, Harry turned from Voldemort, dismissive, and focused on thinning the herd. Thirteen Death Eater’s still stood, including Bellatrix, who was engaged with Neville and Ron. Harry used every spell that came to his mind, even those from the Half-Blood Prince’s book he had not tested before. One man was effectively eviscerated, much to Harry’s disgust. He only used that spell once.  

When he saw one of his snakes change course he pulled the magic from them, an effective banishment, cold eyes finding Voldemort again. He had not heard the man speak parseltongue, and indeed he was still holding the crucio, face twisted strangely as he watched Harry. 

“My, my,” said Voldemort, immediate once he had regained Harry’s attention, two more of his people fallen, “so vicious, little snake. Does Dumbledore know you have venom?”

“I don't give a fuck what he knows,” Harry said harshly. “This is a school.” This is my home. “Focus on the bloody Ministry, and leave children out of it.”

Voldemort had the gall to laugh, high and cold. “This is not merely a school, Harry Potter,” he said. “There is a reason you children stand your ground and fight. This is where Dumbledore trains his small, young army to go to war and die, as their parents did before them.” 

Wrath bubbles in Harry, heavy and explosive, and he must look as unhinged and inhuman as the man watching him as he cages it behind his teeth. He flicks a shield charm around Bones and Abbott before a reductor hits, and a disarming charm hits the perpetrators back. He breaks the dark-wooded wand into two pieces the moment he catches it. 

“You truly think Dumbledore has taught us anything? Even my ‘private lessons’ with the man are just memories of your life, as if I care that you got away with murder when you were still sixteen.” Hermione pulls Vane’s still writhing body from the room, and Voldemort’s cruciatus ends, but he does not seem to notice or care, eyes locked on Harry. “The only reason I fight is because I do not believe in the world you are trying to create. Because you say things like ‘magic is night' and still try to subjugate witches and wizards, as if the fresh magic in their veins is poisoned by the muggles they're born to. I defy you, Lord Voldemort, because you decided your best course was killing a baby over a half-heard prophecy, and still try to kill me to this day. I am not going to stand here and let you. I don't believe ‘magic is might’. I've already killed many of your people tonight… but that—that wasn’t over ideology. That is because I will kill as many as it takes to keep your grasping, greedy fucking hands out of my school.”

[wannab-urs]

Ouroboros

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

Summary: You and Dave are two people with nothing left in the world but each other. You find each other starving, desperate, violent. WC: ~1200

Content/Warnings: Love as consumption, but it’s not quite love; oral f!receiving, unprotected PIV (do better!), blood, biting, really violent metaphors and similes, scratching, pinning, choking, marking, idk rough sex in general, everyone involved is emotionally unavailable and sad.

A/N: This is inspired by a blurb I wrote on violent expressions of love/love as consumption. I haven't written anything quite like this before so I guess lmk if you'd like a part two! Thanks to @atinylittlepain, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @gasolinerainbowpuddles, @amanitacowboy, @beskarandblasters, and @theywhowriteandknowthings for listening to me yell about it for two days and helping me along <3

Dave York Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

I want to tell you a story / of snakes eating / their own tails, Swallowing themselves whole. I hope / you can guess that this story Is about love / and what people will do / to get a taste of it --@twinnedpeaks

Dave has lost everything. You can tell just by looking at him. There’s a desolation in his eyes like none you’ve ever seen before save looking in the mirror. You are so empty. There is something you both lack and the absence of it has left you starving. Something not quite right with you. Born without it maybe, or maybe it was taken by force. 

You’re both so empty that when you’re together it’s like you take turns trying to fill yourselves up with each other, but you’re only ever left hungrier than you were before. Desperate for the taste of each other. You bleed when he touches you, pour it into his mouth and down his throat, but it never makes him less ravenous. 

You let him dig teeth and claws into your chest, tear into the cavern where your heart should be. Someone said if you get hungry enough you’ll eat your own heart, and maybe that’s why there’s not enough of you for him to get his fill. 

He says you belong here, never with him, but here, in the wasteland of his arms. He says you tear the flesh from his bones. He asks how he could love you when he has no love to give even as he buries himself inside you, settles under your skin. 

You’re both too afraid to hang on to each other, though you leave claw marks in the letting go. Part of you wants to love him, but in loving him you would undoubtedly lose yourself. 

You yearn for a love that doesn’t exist. Where claws sinking into flesh, sharp and scathing, ripping organs from your body, tearing you apart at the seams so you can be remade into something new doesn’t result in the utter destruction of self. A love that’s all consuming and desperate and violent but that still feels like a home you can settle into. 

And the yearning is another type of hunger. Just another thing you lack. All the things you lack enough to form a hill you will probably die on someday. How can the absence of something be such a heavy weight to carry? You want to settle some of it on his broad shoulders, but you don’t know how to give away what you don’t have. You give him yourself instead. 

He wraps your thighs around his head and settles in to feast on you, tongue delving deep inside and curved nose grinding into your clit. He eats you as if he’s trying to find a way in. You gouge his shoulders, raking up his neck and into his hair. You revel in his flesh caught under your nails, something of him you can take with you. He groans and it vibrates your bones. 

You pull him closer, something like pleasure coursing through your veins, you think. It’s been so long since something felt good you aren’t sure this is what it feels like. But it feels like something and you crave something. The something settles low in your belly, coils like a snake, and strikes. Dave drinks you down, consuming everything you give him, and when he peers up at you from between your legs his eyes are still full of a dark hunger. 

He drags his mouth up your body as though he can’t bear the thought of your taste leaving his mouth. Sinks teeth into the flesh of your shoulder and you swear you hear them clack through your skin. You yank his head away from you by the hair he has let curl at the nape of his neck, and he snarls, his mouth tinged red with you. 

You surge up into him, crash your mouths together hard enough to split lips and you swallow, taking blood and spit and slick on your tongue and he sucks it back onto his. He settles fully between your legs, not breaking his mouth away from yours as he pushes your thighs into your chest. You let him fold you in half, his hands settling into the mattress and keeping you spread wide for him.

He buries his face in your neck, bites down, and snaps his hips into you, both of you grunting at the force. He splits you open at your core, soothes that hollow ache of emptiness, filling you to the brim. All you think or feel or see is Dave. The planes of his back shifting and sheened with sweat as he ruts into you, the shining red streaks on his shoulders a beautiful contrast to golden skin. You dig the nails of your left hand into his asscheek, pulling him into you even harder. Settle your right hand in a fist in his hair and twist and he growls in your ear. 

He sits back on his heels, grabs your hands and pins them to the bed. The bones in your wrists shift pleasantly painfully (what’s the difference?) as he settles his weight forward. You wrap your legs around his torso and pull him back to you, emptiness for even a moment too much to bear. You latch your teeth into the muscle of Dave’s forearm and he lets go of your wrist only to wrap your throat in his long fingers and squeeze. 

There’s something so intimate about your life being held in the palm of someone’s hand. There’s something so violent about him, burrowed deep, always lingering beneath the surface. There’s something so reassuring knowing he is entirely capable of snuffing your life out right here, but he won’t. Not because you are some precious thing, but because he needs you as badly as you need him. 

You are near silent, coming with a desperate gasp for air you aren’t able to pull in and he follows you. He too is a vessel with a crack somewhere near the middle, unable to hold anything inside for long, and he is pouring himself into you, hoping you will hold what he gives you. You shudder around him, grasping at his fingers around your throat not to pull him away, but to push him in harder. 

He tears his hand away first, then the rest of himself, landing on the mattress next to you and no longer touching you. The after always sending him reeling from you as though your skin burns him. Maybe it does. You head to the bathroom to clean yourself up while he berates himself for coming back here. 

In the mirror you’re a vision of blooming purple and searing red. Throat, shoulder, wrists, thighs, cunt, all marked and aching. You’ll feel him for the days it will take him to fall back into your bed and just as he fades from your skin he will knock on your door. 

When you return to the bed, Dave is on his back, hands folded on his chest like a corpse at his visitation service. You lie beside him, upper arms pressed together as you mirror his pose. 

“Are you staying?”

He makes a noncommittal noise, a yes and a no, but grabs your arm and pulls you into him anyway. You wrap around him, an arm and a leg thrown across his body. You press your lips to a mark on his chest you don’t remember making. He traces patterns on your naked back and sighs. 

“I want to, I think.”

---------

Thanks for reading!! I have a general idea for a part two if it would interest anyone :) And sorry to the people I was supposed to write requests for... this wouldn't get out of my head.

[juno-of-wonderland]

Monster au: The Hybrid Lord route [ending 1 (part 2)]

notes: to be honest, I didn't like how it turned out, but I couldn't think of a way to improve it

List tag: @112-darling, @rain112-darling, @callmedarling112, @mushroomfrog203

Warning: ftm reader, blood, bruises, a bit of gender bias, maybe suggestive, not revised

You pondered two questions for a long time: leave and pretend nothing happened or try to drag this vampire to your house and try something… he'll definitely need blood, you shuddered at the idea of ​​him biting your neck. Your soft heart spoke louder, the flower doesn't cure vampires completely, in fact it works as a power or energy enhancer, depending on how the user spends it. It was a long, very long journey, it was already dawn when you threw him on the floor of your house. "I urgently need to exercise" you said massaging his left shoulder. You grabbed him by the armpits and dragged him to the carpet, laying him down more gently, ran to your room, grabbed a pillow and came back, placing it under his head. You stared at him with crossed arms. "How am I going to cure you?…" You whispered, not waiting for an answer. Blood was the only idea that came to mind, you doubt that any herb you have at home will be of any use. You walked to your kitchen, grabbed one of your clay cups and a knife. “Please don’t wake up to the smell, please don’t wake up to the smell” you kept repeating like a mantra. The knife cut your palm, you pressed it down so that more blood would fall into the cup. You watched your “patient” while you bandaged your own hand, walked over to him again and placed the cup on the floor, right next to him, so that when he woke up he could drink it and that was when you noticed, his skin was charring, the sun! You ran and closed the curtains in your house, your living room became partially dark, you looked at the vampire for what seemed like ages and he was still quiet. You breathed a sigh of relief, intending to go put away what you had collected two days ago, until something grabbed your heel and you kissed the floor again. The weight on top of you made your senses go crazy, your pulse increased in fear as you felt the hot breath on your neck. A growl, thunderous, the feeling of fangs snaking against your neck, then an irritated sound, all sensation gone, out of the corner of your eye you saw the glass being picked up and he got off of you. “What the fuck” you said looking at him as you slowly stood up, your arms still shaking from the shock. The vampire looked embarrassed with the glass in his mouth, the tip of his tail thrashing hard from side to side. “You’re the one who relaxed too much around a thirsty vampire and a hungry lion too” he said, as if it were your fault. “Wow, what a nice thank you” “…thanks for not leaving me there, herbivore” he said after a brief moment of silence and a sigh. You were already taking it, massaging your throbbing nose until your fingers were wet with blood. “That’s great” you murmur. You get another scare when he grabs your wrist, when you look at his face, ready to protest, his eyes are dark, you can barely see the emerald green, he looks hungry. Your finger comes close to his mouth and he licks the bloody length, every drop, then he looks straight into your eyes, a shiver runs down your spine, I guess that's what they call the vampire's charm. You pull your hand away abruptly, your face burning with embarrassment, he gives an amused snort and walks to the door. "Where are you going?" You ask "To find food" Then he opens the door and ventures into the darkness, you hope you don't hear anything about a suspicious vampire death in the citadels tomorrow.

…

Leona's visits have become regular, he claims he'll come to your house because no one reminds him of his duties and that he doesn't have any annoying nephews or brothers bothering him, but you suspect he likes your company. You heard a knock on your door and went to answer it, Leona was at the door as expected. “That’s new” he pointed to the bird feeder you hung on the roof of the porch. “Yeah, I like them singing, so I put food out for them” One of Leona’s lion ears twitched, her mind seemed to work for a moment, before a treacherous smile formed on her lips. “So” he came closer, almost touching his nose with his “if I help you” his hand moved to your neck, pressing a vein “do I have the right to your blood again?” “…no, your teeth must not feel good” “How do you know if you’ve never felt it? I promise to be gentle” Leona teased again You blushed and stormed into your house. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Leona shouted playfully “You can rot out there!” “You are a very angry woman.” That made you stop in your tracks, he just called you a woman. “I am not a woman.” Everyone called you a boy or something like that, your appearance helped that and you ARE A MAN. “You smell like one.” Leona narrowed her eyes. “I am a boy,” you replied with clenched fists. Leona was silent for a moment before letting out an okay. “Wait…are you going to accept it…just like that?” You said confused. “And what’s so complicated about that? If you say you are a man, then you are a man, now just invite me inside, I'm getting sleepy" Leona said showing her fangs. You invited him, still stunned that such an old being accepted it so well… you wished your family had been like that. "I don't like this smell" "Hum?- Huh!?" Leona pulled you with him, going to the couch he brought to your house, throwing the two of you on it. He held you with firm arms, your body on top of his as he hugged you. "If you disturb my sleep by moving or with that smell of melancholy, I'll kill you" said the vampire. You didn't dare move, his cold body felt good on this summer night, you hoped he could hug you more often, secretly, he hoped for that too.

[sweetshelluvaau]

Taking a break from doing Helluva Boss redesigns to do some Hazbin Hotel ones because my brain was screaming inside telling me to draw Lilith which ended up be deciding to drawing Lucifer as well! I Also finished up my redesign of Charlie but I'm gonna give them their own dedicated post

Like always, notes under the cut. Drawn in Clip Studio Paint and with Photoshop CS6 for final touches. Okay to reblog, Feedback is encourage.

About the canon designs and personalities:

Lucifer: Honestly, I don't mind Lucifer's design too much outside of the fact it falls under the typical Viziziepop's Twink she likes to draw. I do think overall, the Ringleader idea she was going for is there, sorta. That being said: I have it out for that top hat. Not necessarily the fact he's wearing one he's one of the few characters I don't mind wearing one more than the accessories with it. Between the stupid crown, snake and apple it just...doesn't work for me.

As for his portrayal in the show: I happen to like Lucifer in Hazbin I think he's a fun character even though I do have problems as I'm about to address. Jeremy Jordan seemed like one of the few voice actors that sounded like he was having fun playing his character suppose to just being there for a paycheck (I mean, he was there for that but still). I know people complain that he sounds too young which I do agree I do think Jordan could have gave him a slightly deeper voice along with his design looking as if he was a bit older; but considering that he's over, what? Eons years old with an angelic background, I'll give it a pass.

I'm iffy on his backstory, or at least how it's handled in the show. Lucifer being an 'innocent' dreamer with good intentions doesn't necessarily bother me too much and his punishment for giving humanity freewill has an irony to it so no problems there. However I do have problems with how as the character that's suppose to be the cause of all sin, the fucking Devil himself and the ruler of Hell; isn't treated like such. Yeah I know he misses his wife Tails, he misses her a lot but c'mon man, you're the King of Hell and The Sin of Pride! In the pilot he seemed to have a more sinister, or at the least threating presence from the little we saw of him.

Also, you took the Pride out of the Sin of Pride? Where's his bite? What are you doin' Viv!?

This is a problem I have with Helluva as well where the Sins, or at least the case for Bee and Ozzie season two onward is that the show is too afraid to make even the more lax, 'nicer' of the Sins not being threating or a bit of dicks sometimes Mammon withstanding because Vivienne is worried that she'll risk them coming across as unlikeable which is bullshit considering how people love asshole characters when they're written right or are fun. Helluva's Mammon is proof right there the fandom love him and Ozzie, as brief as it was in Season One had a banger of a 'villain' song where he and Fizz drag three of the main cast member's sex lives just because he fucking can and says he dislikes 'lovely dovey' crap which is a bit hypocritical considering how much he smitten with his Jester Boyfriend (You two were all touchy and that nuzzle at the end they aren't fooling anyone lol) why did you take away their bite and turned Fizz into such a wimp I miss my little chaotic gay gremlin man... but I'm getting a head of myself.

I don't mind Lucifer and by extension the Sins themselves NOT being evil; in fact I like the idea of them being morality dubious/having questionable morality along with them having a bit of 'humanity' to them, makes them more interesting as characters, but to take away their bite or having 'good' sins and 'bad' sins (ranted about that here) just sounds like a cheap copout and takes away any nuance to the whole idea of sin to begin with being how Hazbin is suppose to be a story about redemption and if a sinner CAN be redeemed. Granted a poorly constructed story that misses the mark horribly, but I digest.

Overall, I do like Lucifer as a character but I wouldn't have 'woobified' him if that makes sense.

Lilith: Her design is...meh. Her dress is pretty, sure; but it's like a normal ballgown. I like the idea of the horns.

...That's all I got to say honestly.

Since we don't know much about her personality in the show yet outside of hints that she 'thrived' in Hell and her and Lucifer were separated by the time the story happened, there's not much for me to say on this front. Prior to the show dropping (or maybe just the pilot), Vivienne hinted that they were gonna have a Gomez and Morticia dynamic going on so consider me disappointed that this ended up not being the case. Damn, would I have killed to have them be this happily married power couple because let's be real: You can't be a powerful badass King without your equality powerful badass Queen, am I right? XD I'd eat that shit up!

I honestly fear Lilith in the show is going to end up being Stella 2.0 which I hope isn't the case but considering Vivienne's writing I don't have much faith she'll be anything but. Maybe not as bad, but yeah...

Anyways, on to the redesigns and character changes:

Lucifer: I said before that I'm not really going with the circus theme in my rewrite/au. I do think on paper the "Hell is a circus' is interesting, fun concept but that's been barely, if at all utilized in Hellaverse outside of a poorly done aesthetic, but it's not the direction I personality want to go with. I may still play with the whole circus thing with the Happy Hotel itself, but otherwise...yeah, right, redesign.

I knew from the beginning I wanted to give him a more darker color scheme along with adding purple into his outfit because purple = Pride so I settled on a dark purple, red and gold/bronze combo. I was debating if I should have scraped his top hat or not being how Hellaverse made me me have it out agasist tops hats like almost every other male character has a fucking top hat there's other kinds of hats but at the end of the day I decided to keep it though he doesn't always wear it. I did draw him without the hat as well which you can view towards the end of the post. I kept the apple motif he has going and while I didn't do much with his cane, I did add a snake which yes, is alive. That's his pet Temptation and he loves her very much.

Outfit inspiration:

Personality wise it's very similar to what it is in the show but taken in a bit more darker direction. Think overdramatic theater kid meet rebellious somewhat edgy adult who hasn't grown out of his teenage years (that's not saying he doesn't act like an adult he does but he has that 'whimsical' nature to him where he sometimes won't take things seriously or refuses to take responsibility though there are moments where he does have to 'Swallow his Pride' so to speak).

I also made him much more Prideful because he's the Sin of Pride, duh. This man will fight tooth and nail to prove that he's in the right (a trait that Charlie also shares) because his ego and pride won't let him rest and he's not going to back down DAMN IT!!. Lilith and/or a few of the Sins (Satan, Beelzebub and Ozzie respectfully) have to reel him in so he doesn't do anything stupid and make an ass out of himself more than he already has.

However, just because he is a prideful prick a good portion of the time doesn't mean he doesn't have his moments of genuine compassion and love for those who are important in his life. He loves his family, daughter included despite how unsupportive and very passive aggressive in regard to believing that her plan is dead in the water and has no problem addressing those thoughts in a 'tough love' kind of way (or what he believes is tough love when it's reality he's coming across as him just beating her down and making them drift even father apart as if they already slowly weren't. As I said, he's very prideful when he believes he's right) and views most of the other Sins minus Leviathan as his firends/true companions though some are much closer to him than others.

I kept most of his backstory in the show the same where he had some good intentions of gifting humanity freewill but also at the same time did it out of rebellion towards his father (God) after falling for Lilith and believing that everything that made her...well her (her freewill, sprit, strength) should be given to every human only for it to backfire and bring evil and sin in the world annnnd we know how this story goes. (otr I have both Eve AND Adam eat from the apple and Lilith had nothing to do with the whole thing but was punished regardless for 'influencing' Samael regardless if she pushed him or not) There was still a Heaven and Hell war but that doesn't happen until much later in the timeline once Hell gains the power and means to declare such on Heaven, only for them to lose in the end. The Exterminations has something to play with the outcome of the war but that's a discussion for another time.

Lilith:

Putting aside I didn't want both Lilith and Lucifer to have the same hair color (one of the reasons why I didn't also make Luci's hair red after he fell, even if that was more canon biblically correct), I wanted Lilith to be a red head like she is in biblical stories. I also made her skin a bit darker. I was aiming for an olive skin tone but not sure if I successfully succeeded in that.

Lilith still has her horns but I made them much smaller. They expand/grow bigger when she's enraged or goes into her full demon form where her eyes also glow and her nails turn into long, sharp blade like talons. I plan on drawing her demon form along with the rest of the Morningstars later down the line. I also gave her animal ears which I may revisit later being that was a last second addition. I wanted to give Luci or Lilith hooves as well but I didn't think about it after the drawings were done. (likely will give Luci them)

Dress inspiration:

As for personality and overall character changes go: Well for starters, Both Lilith and Lucifer are a happily married power couple like we were lead on to believe and I WILL NOT TAKE NO FOR AN AWSNER!!

As I said earlier, we still don't know much about Lilith as a character in the show outside of the fact she thrived in Hell and influenced demonkind but never said of what that entailed. I'm still keep those elements of course, having her be a beacon for the Hellborn and establishing connections and business with a good share of the Overlords in Pride, especially with the more 'lesser evil' Sinner ones. Lilith is the one who normally engages with Sinners on large where Lucifer rather avoid them as much as possible with a few exceptions being how he blames them for why he ended up down in Hell to begin with considering he did believe they'd do good with the 'gift' he gave them, only to be proven wrong and him having to suffer seeing the worst of humanity as punishment.

Personality wise, Lilith is a strong willed, go getter who wants nothing but the best for her family, firends and citizens. She involves herself heavily in the politics of Hell while also hoping to inspire her people, Hellborn and Sinners alike. Soft but strong, caring but stern; playful but serious when she has to be, Lilith wears her title on her sleeve as the Queen of Hell and a mother and friend to those who look up to her.

Like Charlie and unlike her husband, Lilith sees the good in humanity. She was human herself after all, deemed the first Sinner but she's more indirect and hands off with her methods where Charlie wants to be more hands on and direct with her hotel idea. Lilith tries to guild her daughter the best she can but tries to persuade her that her plans for the Happy Hotel may not have the effect she hopes, even as supportive she is of her daughters' ideals.

Lilith has succubus like powers but isn't one herself; however she does work with Asmodeus to train those who do go up topside to spread sin.

Charlie may be the Hellish couple's first child but it wasn't the first time Lilith tried conceive; Charlie was the only one who made it fully to term.

Lilith is much taller than Lucifer, while Charlie is only slightly taller than her father.

I'm going to likely revisit their redesigns in the future because there are a few things I would like to change/add on to but overall this is the direction I plan on going for them. I know this post was long and if you happened to read though all of this: Thank you for reading~

Charlie's redesign will be next being I finished her for a while now I just need to write out my notes. Hopefully this weekend it'll be up.

Bonus, Lucifer without his hat:

[plutoswrath]

ᴀꜱᴛʀᴏ ᴍᴜꜱɪɴɢꜱ 2: ʟɪʟɪᴛʜ - ᴀɴᴄɪᴇɴᴛ, ᴡɪʟᴅ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ

TW: themes of abuse, power dynamics, sociology, misogyny. Astrology + politics mixed, I'm leftist after all, if that's not your cup of tea, skip this one and save yourself the rage quit lol. Women/femme presenting is an all inclusive term in this post!

So since a long time now I've been very intruiged by Lilith (mean, true, asteroid and waldemarth) but since we're most familiar with osculating Lilith and Black Moon Lilith, I will focus on these two specifically.

Keep in mind that there are multiple stories (even if it's just the tiny details that alter the story) and thus interpretations about Lilith, Lilith is also still very much unexplored in astrology.

But the stories of Lilith all do unite in the themes of demand, oppression, shame, morality, breaking free of limitations, isolation/ostracization, rage and autonomy. It’s about power dynamics, you and your raw self, all the desires and needs in relation to others/society. Lilith is described as dark and hidden because that’s exactly what we are taught to do with Lilith energy: hide it. Lilith is therefore often described as off putting, because nothing can be as uncomfortable as going against all reasoning and what you were told was ‘good’ and instead going by instinct and impulse. Lilith deals a lot with survivial. It can be both, a blessing in disguise or at times, a snake biting it’s own tail.

And before we dive deeper into Lilith, I want to say a few words on the practice of astrology, so you can get familiar with the way I use and practice it too:

Astrology is a tool to research our society/world and self, thus Lilith is a reflection of our societal circumstances and therefore you can't discuss Lilith without getting political and talking about misogyny/oppressive systems.

This does not (!) mean Lilith and its effects are limited to gender by any means, but because gender is a social construct, Lilith and it’s effects are influenced by the way we are socialized and by who we are politically. This is why people constantly find these weird power dynamics between men and women who share strong Lilith synastry in the first place.

Gender as we define it is not inherent in the stars and astrology, but our socialization will direct or at least set off the tone in which way certain astrological facts can develop potentially. This is why - very different to my usual approach - I do in fact want to highlight the performance and construct of gender in this take, because the themes of Lilith represent in the different roles and scripts that exist for men and women in our heteronormative society. It shows in the power dynamic that is created between those who are politically men and women or rather said those who are straying away from the script they we're ought to follow by those who hold more power over them. This is an universal experience that can be experienced by everyone, but I want to say that private and political self intertwine and it’s very much present in the stories of those who have experienced strong Lilith influence in their life. If you want to read further on my reasoning and understand my approach to astrology, you can read it here.

⇨ Sociology and politics aside, let’s get back to Lilith:

Naturally, because there is still a lot of mystery and complexion around Lilith, she is a very hot topic in synastry. But the assumptions of steamy sex and kinky encounters aside, and from what I've seen and studied, right now I'll go so far to say that when we deal with a (perceived) hetero relationship, it can only truly work out if the man involved absolutely sees the woman as an absolute equal and treats her as such. Even if difficulties arise and are set off by Lilith, both need to remain an be seen as an independend being with agency and acknowledge that at all times, no matter the decision. It's a choice both should commit to at the very beginning.

You think this is common sense in partnerships (should be at least) but Lilith has a very unique and personal relationship with ostracization, shame, humiliation, oppression and anger.

I often read that prominent Lilith contacts in synastry (but I'd add composite to that too!) need both partners to be healthy, functional (or at least have an idea of what that should be and look like) and communicate effectively and clearly, be vulnerable and honest. While this is definitely true, any strong Lilith energy in relationships between a woman and a man needs the man to dissect his views and held notions of women, I believe. Not that anyone should dissect and deconstruct what their internalized held beliefs of what gender, and what femme and masculine is, to begin with (duh), but I repeat my previous statement about Lilith’s themes: Lilith ultimately finds itself battling and dealing with power dynamics, because it represents you and your raw self, all the desires and needs in relation to others/society. Lilith is described as dark and hidden because that’s exactly what we are taught to do with Lilith energy: hide it.

The woman in the connection, especially if she is Lilith, will be the woman that will mentally have the man on his knees because her mere existence can challenge his previously believed authority he has on her/women, as well as the way people are wired and set in position in society. We see him questioning the ‘script’ or holding close to it like a dogma. There is (sometimes watered down) anger and resentment a man will channel towards the woman he has Lilith contact with. It can often be thoughts of ‘how dare she’ and ‘I’ll stop her before she even gets the chance to start’. As much as the escapism we search for online think this might turn out in an overly romanticzed femme fatale fantasy, reality often hits us hard when we see dysfunctional relationships unfolding right in front of us.

She will be the announcement of a possible challenge, a test of character, which he'll fail or master. It's a question of morality, for both. Because Lilith here can be the person he always dreamed of, but always has been too afraid to engage with. There is something uttrely objectifying happening when talking about lilith and it's effects, even if you don't want to, it is bound to happen living in the world we are in right now.

And this has all to do with what Lilith stands for. Especially those who have strong Liltih influence in their chart (doesn't matter which Liltih you use) - I'm talking in angular houses, on the angles, in contact to personal planets or to the chart ruler - have undeniably an interesting relationship with and effect on those people who want them to 'follow the scrip' in the way society wants it. And very important (!!): just because someone has strong Lilith influence, doesn't mean that they are in any way better or worse than other women. I want to highlight this because women with Lilith energy will get shit from anyone (!!) who has strong internalized misogyny in them. Think about the way women are raised to compete with each other and follow the script in order to survive and get by in a patriarchal society. Of course someone who's very 'Lilith' will trigger them. Same with men who encounter someone who's very 'Lilith'.

Lilith can join the club of the outsider that you'll find at the metaphorical table that is placed in an imagined highschool's cafeteria: finding her place right next to Scorpio, shaking hands with Uranus, Neptune and Pluto, nodding acknowledging to Cancer, Aquarius and Pisces.

I noticed women who have strong Lilith in their chart have had prominent themes of isolation, autonomy, exclusion and conflict in their life. Either born or forced in positions that has them relying on themselves and their gut instincts a lot (!) and the rest of their charts backed that up too. But whatever is touched by Lilith is bount to become fierce and brutal. Doesn't matter if it's natal, a transit, in composite; Lilith forces you to look within and unleash something inside of you, it works like a catalyst of some sort. Lilith also talks about demands. Think about how she demanded a different treatment, before she left the Garden Eden. Lilith's needs are that strong, that she is willing to face the brutal consequences of it. If anything, Lilith's pursue can be just as brutal (metaphorically, but perhaps phyiscally as well) as her will.

Pop astrology makes Lilith out to be solely about the physical act of intimacy, and sexuality definitely is a theme for Lilith, but not in the way people think it is, I believe.

There is an undeniable generational trauma and influence Lilith has on those who are politically a woman (all inclusive term)/femme presenting.

I will be even bolder in my claims and say that we still view Lilith through the lense society views women that ultimately choose to abandon societal and cultural prestigue and status by choosing themselves no matter what will occure, especially if it also means having to play with those societal expectations or finding their own niche in those roles and scrips they have to follow to get by. And this is not me trying to #girboss Lilith, but rather me saying that our studies still integrate and reproduce held harmful beliefs of women.

Deciding to work with Lilith is deciding to choose yourself because you see beyond the oppression and injustice, no matter what you think that might be in your life or in the life of others. The reactionary nature is most of the times caused by pushing and pulling from those who want her to follow the script. But Lilith often wants to write her own script, or at least edit what people have been given to her.

This is why, for example, women with Lilith in contact with their Juno will be known as partners that are demanding in the eyes of those who want them to act as we expect women to be in relationships. They expect commitment that borders on obedience but these individuals will eventually combust under the pressure. They will find their way to assert their own role, but at the same time they can end up with people that are inherently lilith to them in the best or worst ways. Likewise, we see celebrity men with Lilith Juno contacts that are known to be immoral lovers, not caring if the spotlights are on them or not. The whole world is gonna see, how they want to have commitment and what it requires. (not to say that you are doomed to be a horrible partner just because you have Lilith-Juno contacts, this is just one way it can manifest!)

I believe that at it’s best and it’s very essence, Lilith is not about choosing hate over love, glorifying destruction over peace and community. I truly believe that at it's core and very best, Lilith is ancient and wise, she knows - because she has wisdom that is inherent to her - what is right and wrong for her and she downright rejects the status quo because she can see beyond the limitations and power plays people have put on each other. She is the link to our gut feeling, I believe. And it acts out, whenever something doesn't sit quiet right with us, or something might feel incredibly good (for better or worse). Again, Lilith was ostracized and forced to be alone, she had to be and sit with herself. That doesn't mean Lilith is the ulterior good, but rather the 'what if you would choose to not follow the script - what if you become mindful of your own and listen within yourself.'

She is very much wild and raw and instinctual as mother earth herself is (the sadow of the moon). Remember, after all, she is according to the stories the very first woman. She is following a very deep rooted beat of a drum, a melody, that will always guide her through life, she wants to connect to her own, inherent eco system.

When I research Lilith in astrological texts and read about her, no matter which Lilith it is, it most of the time feels almost like a caricature, oddly enough. If she's not 100% girlbossyfied, she is mostly only seen as the 'evil one' (or at least very constroversial figure). Despite the fact that she indeed can be bad, it's also a role Lilith was pushed to take on too, because after all, there hasn’t been any cooperation with her. So she doesn’t cooperate and rather does her own thing (for better and worse, but as long as it feels good to her, there's probably no one who can stop her). Looking at it from a more psychological and sociological lens, Lilith's story inherently integrates the idea of 'I play the villian you always thought of me as'. Which is in itself an (unfortunate) self-fulfilling and isolating prophecy. It's not inherently a cool, but rather a cruel thing, but she had to work her way around that too, I guess.

Growing up 'Lilith', I do want to talk about the many facettes she has. I don't think that the reduction of Lilith as a mere 'sexual' indication does her justice, even if the sexual part does play a role after all. Picking up the previous point about astrology and sexuality, I wonder how the extreme sexualization and fetishization of anything a woman does plays into the sex-focused interpretations of her (but I think part of the credit has to be given to the way sexuality - especially in women - is also used as a method and commodity).

I also often read about women that are Lilith and feel very wise and mature, being a spiritual teacher to their lovers. I personally agree. I feel the wisdom and knowledge of Lilith can get twisted - either she becomes the 'crazy one' or people take away her agency and personhood and reduce her to the (sexual) magnetism that she possesses by being deeply involved and concerned with her sexual energy (aka creative energy, it's the force we connenct with when we create ANYTHING). Thus, often resulting in her being very much in touch with it.

There’s also the concept of motherhood that I keep thinking about. After all Lilith made sure to revenge her killed children by.....kiling other children? Uhh, don't know really about that move but sure, you show them that was fucked up ig.

Since Lilith is the shadow of the moon, I wonder how much our upbringing, our mother figure and motherhood influence Lilith’s energy.

And of course: the other woman. Lilith came back to the Garden Eden just to find Adam with another chick!!! After she had to leave when she wanted to be treated with basic respect. And yes, she did take revenge on Adam too, but point is that Lilith also deals with betrayal and distrust.

There is so much I could write about Lilith. I feel one can't discuss and learn about lilith without getting sociological, political and a bit psychological as well. After all, she is one of the most complex and intruiging figures out there. Controversial. The dark side of the moon.