#see what taking away freedom of expression will do

[girlusional]

Let's Run away

pov: You are a princess, and he is your bravest knight. Tomorrow, you're going to marry a prince from another kingdom, but you discovered just the night before that the man you really love is the one who always protects you.

pairs: knight! enhypen Heeseung/Jay/Jake (separately) + princess! fem. reader

This is FICTIONAL. It's NOT about the idols in real life.

warnings: kisses, neck kisses, swearing, smut, unprotected sex (don't do it, do it safely), praise, fingering,

!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

w.c.: 2.135k

LEE HEESEUNG

You were next to your window, seeing the sunset as a new day was coming. Your wedding.

You would be the next queen of a big kingdom, would marry a rich prince and, even if he has lovers, the idea of having power wasn't so bad.

So why were you so sad about it?

“I have to say bye, Your Highness.” You looked at Heeseung, your bravest knight, who was in front of you. “After your wedding, I'll not be your personal knight anymore.”

You frowned, what the hell was he talking about?

“What do you mean?”

You noticed that his eyes weren't looking at you, but at something behind you. And Heeseung always looks into your eyes.

Always.

“I mean that it's time to say goodbye.”

You widened your eyes, confused.

“But… you are my knight.”

Heeseung looked down at the floor, a stern expression on his face.

“I thought this would be better for both of us. I hope you understand.”

You could hear your heart in your ears. This only could be a joke.

“No. I need you by my side.” You walked next to him, trying to reach his face with your hand, but he stepped back.

“No. Please. Don't make it harder for me…” His voice was just a whisper at this point, and his eyes finally were looking into yours.

And something in your chest broke when you saw that he was tearing.

“Please.” He said again. “Don't make me want you more than this. It's not fair.”

Your heart almost stopped when the words were spoken. You stopped paying attention to the room, or to the yellow bird that was next to your window.

Heeseung is the only bright spot now.

You hold his face with kindness and nuzzle his skin, seeing his tears rolling down on his cheeks. He was so handsome it hurts.

“Do you really want me?” You asked, smiling.

“If I say yes, will you stay with me tonight?” You bite your lower lip, thinking.

You'll never be happy married to a prince that only wants you because of your father's kingdom. And you knew that.

Love is not everything, you know it. Freedom is important too. But this marriage will be your cage.

“If you say yes, I'll run away with you tonight.” You said, in a low tone. “If you say yes, I'm yours tonight.”

“Your Highness…”

“My name.”

His eyes were bigger, but his tongue said your name like a praise.

Like a damn necessity.

His hands found the lace on your dress, holding like you could disappear.

His lips touched yours in ecstasy, he moved to kiss you deeply, holding your waist with one hand and the other undone your lace, opening the dress.

“Heeseung…”

That tiny call of his name made something burn inside him.

“Be mine. Be mine, be mine, be mine…” He repeated these words against your skin, kissing your neck in devotion.

“I am yours…” He held your dress, wanting to take it off.

His armor was between your body and his, so he gently put you sat at your giant bed while taking off his pieces.

His sword was on your couch, and he was using boots, black pants and a white shirt, covering his arms and chest.

You observed his body, the way he looked at you, the way his tongue passed between his lips, his chest that was rising and falling fast, his… oh…

“Heeseung, you…” He smiled, walking to you and caressing your chin.

“I can't help it. I want you more than you think.” The buttons of your dress bodice opened, revealing your skin. “Can I kiss your body?”

You leaned on the bed, nodding.

Heeseung was at the top of you, kissing and biting your soft skin, marking it.

You knew your father would kill him for that, but you wouldn't be there when at the sunrise.

Your mind was blank, you don't even know how you both were now clothless, but your tongue just knew how to say one name.

“Heeseung…” You closed your eyes, crying. His mouth against your core, his fingers holding your legs apart. You've never felt this good before. “Heeseung…”

It was wet and hot… and so good.

Your body trembled before you could hold a moan that escaped from your lips.

“Shh, Princess. They will catch us.”

He lay down on the bed, next to you, and caressed your face.

“Will you really run away with me?”

“Yes.” You hugged him. “Let's run away.”

PARK JONGSEONG

You were at the Royal Library, reading about the kingdom of your future husband, Prince Aidan.

He was disgusting. Much older than you and always tries to seduce you.

Really, if you just could run away…

“It's late, Your Highness.” Your book was closed abruptly and you looked up, seeing Jay.

The candles trembled a bit, but kept shining.

“I just need some minutes…”

“You need to sleep, Your Highness.” You sighed. Jay was stubborn when he wanted to be, so you stood up and nodded.

“Get a candle and follow me, I need to put this in its place again.” You pointed to the book.

Your dress was shining under the candle light, but Jay kept his look on your neck, decorated with pearls.

He wanted to reach you, to stop you from marrying that man.

“Can I be selfish one last time before your marriage, Your Highness?” He asked, silently. You were both alone at that library.

“Yes.” You say, looking at the bookshelf you got the book.

When you put the object there again, you felt a head leaning in the curve of your neck and hands holding you behind.

Your heart began to beat fast, and your eyes widened.

“Jay, what…”

“I know isn't fair to you. But I am in love with you.” You shiver with his breath against your skin, his lips almost kissing your neck with proximity. “I wanted to keep you with me, but I knew we would never be together. You are a Princess, I am just a knight.”

You held his hands against your clothes, intertwining your fingers.

“What more?” You asked, caressing his hand.

His lips touched your jawline, making some electricity run inside your veins.

“What do you want to hear, Princess?” His nose slowly strokes your cheek. “That I would die for you?” His arms pressed you a bit more against his body. “That I would worship you like a fucking goddess? Because I would, and I will.” His fingers nuzzled your skin, trying to reach your blood and soul.

You turned your body to look at his eyes and couldn't say a thing because the first thing he did was to kiss you.

To devour your lips.

Your back was against the bookshelf and the candle was on some books.

Jay lifted you up, holding your legs.

He dreamed about it more times than he could count on fingers. And you wanted this more than you would ever say out loud.

One of his hands passed under your dress, feeling your thighs, and yours were at his shoulders, holding him close enough to kiss him.

But a loud sound stopped you.

“Princess? Are you here?” You two were in the library background, and no one could see you from the door.

But you had to answer, once it was your maid's voice.

“I am here. I am just reading some books. I'll go to bed in a few minutes.” You thought Jay would give you a time, but his fingers touched your waist, under your dress, and his hand… he was reaching…

“No.” You whispered. “She is here…”

But Jay smiled and kissed your neck, biting and sucking it.

You had to bite your lips to hold a moan.

“Are you sure? I am a bit worried, Your Highness. Tomorrow is an important day…”

“Yes I am, it's everything okaaa…” Your nails almost crossed Jay's shoulders when his fingers touched your core, massaging you in a lazy rhythm.

“Princess?” Your maid spoke again. “Is it everything okay?”

You wanted to scream, it was so good the way Jay was giving you more pleasure than you could hold.

”Answer her, love.” He muttered. “Or she will see us.”

“I am okay… Just… a bit tired…” You hold a pleased sound. “You can go.”

The doors closed, so you assumed she was gone.

“Park Jongseong…” You gasped when he touched a specific place.

“Say my name again.” He smirked. “I love you so bad, please…” His kisses now were calm and soft, and he kept a peace rhythm. “I want you…”

“I am yours…” Was the last thing you said before you reached your highest. You hugged him, tired. “Jay…”

“Hm?” He put you on the floor, your legs almost stumbling.

“Let's run away.”

SIM JAEYUN

You were worried. It was almost midnight and Jake wasn't in any place you looked.

He told you he was just a bit sick in the morning, but after noon he simply disappeared. And your wedding is going to be the next day.

You don't want to marry that prince, you just want to see Jake again. You held back your feelings for a long time and now, just now, you have the courage to say to him.

But where are him?

You were wearing a night-gown, and it was cold outside your bedroom.

You didn't have a choice, and got a blanket to cover your shoulders.

Jake usually walks in the garden when he's sad or sick, so your last hope was the Royal Garden.

Some flowers are blossoming, and the smell is sweet and pleasant, so you almost didn't see the time passing.

You were almost walking inside the castle again when you heard sobs.

At first you thought that it wasn't nothing, but you saw who was crying, and the scene almost broke your heart.

“Jake?” You called his name, looking at his pitiful state. His eyes were puffy, his nose was red and his clothes were a mess.

Jake stood up, wiping the tears and looking down.

“I am sorry, I…” You didn't wait for him to explain and hugged him with all you had.

“I was so worried about you, idiot…” You teared, relaxing when his hands reached your back.

“I just needed to put some thoughts in place.” He said, embracing you back.

“But you needed to disappear?” Your fingers trace a soft line on his skin. “Idiot.”

He chuckles and holds your hands, nuzzling them as his eyes admire you.

“Do you want to run away with me?” His words echoed between you, making your body freeze.

“Pardon?” You said.

“Sorry… nevermind.” You stepped next to him, curious.

“What did you say?” You try to catch his attention, but Jake sighed.

“I can't see you in this situation. I want to hug you every time you see that prince. I want to kiss you every time he touches your face. I want to have you every time I listen to someone talking about this damn wedding.” He looks at you, frowning. It seemed that he would cry at any moment. “I want you.”

His hands traveled from your face to your waist, squeezing it.

His face now was against the curve of your neck, smelling your sweet perfume.

“Somebody can see us…”

“I don't give a damn, I just want to be next to you.” His lips were so close to you. You just wanted to feel it.

“ Jake.” You felt his breath on your skin, and his hands were on your shoulders, under the blanket. “Shit…”

You weren't thinking straight anymore. Your fingers now were at his hair, and his tongue was caressing your neck, kissing it with so much need. He wanted you so bad.

“Not here.” You whispered.

“Nobody will…”

“Jake!” You wanted to hit him, but then he sat down on the floor, tapping his lap.

And between your reason and your desire, you heard your desire.

His hands explored your body like a treasure, he couldn't get enough of you.

“Jaeyun.” He was so deep. Your blanket was on the roses, and your back was against the grass while Jake was on the top of you, filling you.

You both were sweating, and breathing hard as your bodies became just one. And it was so good. The pleasure was something you just discovered now.

And you wanted more.

“I'm almost…”

“Me too.”

His fingers intertwined yours and his lips devoured the soft skin of your neck. Your moans were low and restrained, afraid that someone could appear.

But you just wanted to scream and say how good that was.

And when he came, his mouth was on yours, savoring your delicious lips.

“Run away with me.”

[louisapennyfeather2021]

I would rather a solar storm knock out all of Earth's satellites and technology and be the reason why we lose Ao3 than lose it to the U.S. government.

***Edit: this isn't talking specifically about Ao3 being down on 7/10. I'm referencing all of the proposed bills in the U.S. government which threaten what little privacy we still have on the internet, threaten to censor sites predominantly populated by minority groups(POC, LGBTQIA+, disabled, non-Christian, etc), and threaten to take away the way kids/teens/young adults express themselves on the internet. For more information, research the Kids Online Safety Act(KOSA), the Restrict Act, and the Earn It Act. There are petitions you can sign, letters/email templates you can send to your Representatives and Senators, and scripts you can use to call your Representatives and Senators :)

[stjohnstarling]

I've been astonished by how much people seem to love my weird and experimental project held together by duct tape and string, especially since so much of it flies in the face of the way I've been taught publishing is supposed to work. The conventional way authors survive online is to release books for sale as frequently as possible - whereas I've been focusing on giving each project as much time as I can, and releasing them slowly (so far I've done a Dracula-inspired novel.) I’ve been making the sort of transgressive queer writing that mainstream publishing is too nervous to touch right now, and I've been giving it away in my newsletter for free.

I want to keep telling stories for free, forever. Only there's one problem: I'm going to need A Lot more subscribers to my newsletter. I have just under 5000 readers right now - I’m going to need at least double that.

Conventional wisdom also says that Tumblr is a dead end, but I'm convinced that this is one of the last places on the internet that capable of fostering real, counter-cultural queer expression - precisely because we are so often left out and forgotten by the mainstream. Half the reason I'm on this website is because of the culture of absolute resistance to advertising. Unfortunately, that also makes my job here rather hard. If things continue to go well, between Patreon, sales of special editions, and a couple small ads, I think I can just about get away with doing this. But I need your help.

If you're someone who's hungry for good stories and:

❧ You're sick of being sold superficial, safe, and sanitized queer stories that shy away from genuine expressions of socially unacceptable desire

❧ You see sexual freedom as inseparable from queer liberation, and you want to see that explored in metaphor via a vampire seducing a priest

❧ You want to read modern queer fiction that's aware of the deep and rich history of queer culture

❧ You want to help foster a project that would create new avenues for underground and transgressive forms of queer expression

Then you should subscribe to What Manner of Man! It's sexy and boundary-pushing and kinky, with fire in its veins.

If this works, I'll be able to take on bigger and more ambitious projects than I ever have before (it's mad scientists next, and I have some pretty mad ideas!)

Thank you for your time! Reblogs deeply appreciated.

[lovetei]

Okay, this have been on my mind for a while now…

So! MC in the manga is a sheep (get turn into a sheep because they aren’t familiar with the magic? Idk). I was just wondering that at the end of the exchange programme how would the boys react to Mc’s “true form”

This is such an interesting thing to write 🖤

By the way, this is another request stuck in my drafts, I promise I'll try to make up for it and post more :')

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Their reaction to Sheep MC changing into their human form at the end of the exchange program

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, no proofreading, wrong grammar, spelling errors, kind of long

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

--------------------------------------------------

LUCIFER

It was the end of the exchange program and he's seeing you off

A large portal behind your back

For you, it might be the portal that will lead you to the freedom and whatever normality this program took away from you for a whole year

The portal that you've been waiting for

But for him, it's nothing but a spiral of magic that takes away the only comfort he has

The comfort that he seek for

And his twisted heart aches whenever he remembers it

But he hides it off with a smile and a wave

He waved at you one last time before you turned around

"Uhm... I feel weird-"

What?

The extreme feeling of despair left his body for a second and was covered with confusion

That soon turned into worry as your sheep form completely fell to the ground

The noises you're making is not normal and they're all panicking because they've never heard of it before

And the fact that you started glowing didn't ease their mind.

Could it be that some higher demon planted some spell inside of you?

IS THAT SPELL SUCCESFUL?!-

MC..?

He looked at you shock

No, more like-

He looked at your new form, shocked.

The way your naked body is laying on the ground right in front of him...

Right in front of them..?

He can't help but sigh and thought that, everything would have been fine, perfect even, if you turned into this form in front of him

But no, you just have to turn into your original self in front of everyone

Now he can't even embrace you.

All he did was take his coat off and throw it to your body as his face flush red.

You turned around to look at them as you clutch his coat with that adorable expression before you run off and enter the portal

He's left there, shocked and speechless

He didn't know what the hell just happened

But what's he's sure of is that he's going to get you back

And you're going to show that expression to him one more time

But that time, it will just be the two of you, alone.

MAMMON

This man is bawling his eyes out

His original plan is to watch you leave as he cries and once you're gone he will walk it off like a real man, with tear stains of course.

He set his mind to it, gambling for the whole week after you leave so that he can forget you

Even for just a moment

But no,

You won't even let him have the peace of mind

Or leave him with a nice memory

Instead your sheep body dropped to ground and made everyone think that you're about to die!

But you know what more you did?

You turned into a human!

Your human form!

Naked!

He went from 😭 -> 🤨 -> 😮 -> 😭 -> 😳 in a mere minute

He just stood there with a flushed face

A blushing dumbass who don't know what to do but watch as Lucifer threw his coat on you

And watch you run away with that cute expression, embarrassed expression on your face.

Gosh

You drive him insane

Now he's all fired up, willing to destroy the mortal world just to get you back in his arms.

LEVIATHAN

This one too is bawling his eyes out

While holding his camera of course

He's filming every part of this

He's standing there like "WAHHH MCCC! W-Wait is the angle r-right..? I need to capture how b-beautiful MC is..." while sobbing words out.

His hands are holding the camera shakily but the movement suddenly stopped when you said you feel weird...

His eyes shot open and his tears stopped

Are you okay..?

. . .

He's malfunctioning the moment you dropped to the ground and started to glow

And he malfunctioned even more when you turned into your human born, as naked as the moment you were born.

Now his sniper instincts came in and the camera is as focused as a laser

He's staring at you wide eyed, face as red as a tomato and his mouth agape

He doesn't know what's happening

But what he's sure of is that he needs to film it

Everything

The moment you grabbed Lucifer's coat and hugged it to cover yourself

And the moment you stood up and looked at them with that cute expression

But the moment you left, he hid the camera

This film is for his eyes only...

He's gonna need this for a 'project'...

And you know what else he needs?

Tissues.

SATAN

He's smiling everything off as he watches you leave

But you know deep down some anger is boiling

Considering how hot his pact mark is getting

Because, why do you have to leave..? Did he fail to satisfy your standards..?

He can't help but roll his eyes internally

But in the middle of his self talk, you spoke

"I kind of... Feel weird-"

And then you dropped to the ground and he's suddenly panicking

Any other feeling except for confusion flushed out of his body

He ran up to you immidiately but the light dimmed down and your naked body lay before him

He can't help stop in his tracks and just look at you and blush

Before he can even register anything, Lucifer's coat is already hugging your body

Which causes another wave of wrath to hit him

He just glared at Lucifer and saw that he's not even paying attention to him

He's looking at you

With a foreign expression in his face

So he also looked at you and...

Why the fuck did you have to look so majestic..?

You met his gaze and your face flushed before you ran out and entered the portal

He just remained still

Looking at the ground where you once sat

He can't move, he's shaking so much...

He feels like he's about to explode...

ASMODEUS

"WAHHH MCCC!" He whined out as he openly sobbed

He loves you so much!

Just why do you have to leave him!

He can't help but pout at you as you say your final goodbye

But what about him?

Why do you have to leave him too!

I mean it's understandable that you want to leave them because they're all such nuisances to you why him?!

He can't help it-

What do you mean you're feeling weird?

He's slowly walking to your direction

But you started to glow..?

Suddenly he's bearing his teeth expecting enemies around

Oh wait...

Oh...

You're...

Naked...

His mind is scrambled

He completely stopped working

And he'll probably be out of service for the next few days.

BEELZEBUB

He's probably standing there with Belphie in his arms

He's giving you his infamous puppy smile hoping that you'll give him what he wants

Hoping that you'll fall for it like the usual and ran up to him an dsay he's cute instead of leaving

But there's a part in his heart that knows you won't

He's sad and happy at the same time

He's happy because you'll finally live the way you do back then

But he's sad because you have to leave to do so...

Huh?

You're feeling weird..?

You're glowing, MC!

He's shaking Belphegor awake now

What's happening to you-

. . .

He'll be one of the most respectful and cover his eyes

But he's secretly peaking through the gaps

Your flushed face...

Looks so cute...

You look...

You looked delicious...

Just enough to eat...

Now he's hungry.

Hungry for something... New?

Something that includes you.

BELPHEGOR

He's awake actually

He watched everyone, he heard everyone gave their final speeches to you

But when you were about to leave

He forcefully shut his eyes and leaned on Beel

Hoping that his sin would take over and he fell into some deep slumber

But why of all times... Why isn't it cooperating..?

His brows are furrowed as he forces himself to sleep

But suddenly everyone dropped silent...

So you finally left?

Wha- why is Beel shaking him?-

MC?!

Why the fuck are you glowing now?!

No no no...

Is it the work of some demon?!

Who-

. . .

You're... Naked...

In front of everyone...

Haha...

Beel better hold him back or else he's about to run after you and do what his brothers can't

But he knows you won't like that.

So he clinged to Beel-

Haha...

Why do you look like that?!

That's his last thought before he ran and almost caught you but the portal closed

Immidiately.

"Hmm... What a shame~"

He'll make sure he'll catch you next time.

[emmafrostyyy]

y'all sleeping on Astarion/Lae'zel bc this moment is so...the way the flippant demeanor drops and he doesn't hesitate to call her out for sticking with her version of Cazador like their relationship is so underrated fr...

sitting down writing this bullshit like let me peel it like an onion a bit and elaborate why this pairing is fascinating to me

It's really interesting how during the most cathartic, life-altering moment in Astarion's questline, the reactions of the other companions are more about the moral wrongness/guilt of sacrificing innocent lives. Lae'zel doesn't do that and instead relates to his hurt.

She knows what's he's feeling, the lack of control, the unfairness of being powerless for too long. This is a woman who just found out her entire life purpose was built on lies, discarded and hunted by her own people after outliving her usefulness, and groomed to basically die for an insane power-hungry lich queen. She knows all too well that power isn't always real freedom. Her first instinct is to empathize with Astarion to steer him away from his hate and resentment.

Astarion/Lae'zel is so interesting to me because they're such a classic "can we make each other worse or make a better person out of the other?".

They both have genuine appreciation for violence and respect each other's ruthlessness. Astarion was used as a weapon of seduction while Lae'zel was of warfare. Sex with people is meaningless and not real intimacy for them, and while both have little understanding/experience of interpersonal relationships beyond the physical, they still feel and love very deeply. They have no frame of reference for things like friendship and warmth, but they badly want all of that and more, even if they don't know it yet.

In-game they can sleep with each other, which is basically the foundation of the normal Tav/Astarion romance. Lae'zel saw him during combat and got horny, who knows. Astarion who's used to luring people with his charms, takes up Lae'zel's blunt offer because she's a strong hardened warrior that can provide protection and be a worthy ally, and he doesn't know how to say no. Navigating the complications between one who wants to be seen beyond as a sex object, and one who comes from a totally alien culture with no concept of love/family/connections and only sex is honestly really compelling to me. It's a transactional, mutually beneficial thing with no emotional expectations. Once you get past the skeevy rockiness of their early relationship, I really like the idea of them slowly seeing something past the exterior and realizing they may have harshly misjudged the other, an unspoken friendship blooms, and in comes the realization that they are essentially loners longing for kindness and a comforting touch in the most desperate of situations.

Lae'zel is prideful, direct, has no sense of courtship talk, and doesn't hold back her thoughts the slightest--she's not sweet/agreeable and what you see is really what you get, which I imagine would be disarming for Astarion who's used to vacuous flattery and has difficulty trusting others. But she's also insanely protective, passionate, loyal, and an initiator-- every romance scene is triggered by her first and she's always showing effort towards her relationships, which would mesh well with Astarion who does need someone to nudge him.

She doesn't purposely suppress her feelings, she's just simply at loss at how to express them sometimes due to her wildly different upbringing. She stops the sparring match you agree to and an easy vulnerability slips instantly out of her: "I don't want to hurt you. I want to protect you, and for you to protect me." and "Thus far I've taunted you, devoured you, battled you. Now I want more than anything to soothe you." are romantic as fuck and Astarion of all people really needs to hear that tbh.

Astarion is also someone who struggles with reinforcing his boundaries, and a key theme in Lae'zel's romance is that she encourages and wants you to challenge her and learn to stand your ground. It's not gentlest method, but hey, relationships are about having to make an effort to learn each other's language.

I think he also would take pleasure "educating her on the matters of Fay-run" (I believe there's a whole banter with him teasing her and teaching her pet names) and would get a kick out of coaxing Lae'zel out of her shell with her shyness at showing public affection, and making her blush. Also it simply would be fucking funny to see Astarion who's used to easy seduction, trying to pass a persuasion check just to get a smooch and generally having to work to earn regular kisses from Lae'zel lmfaooo

Lae'zel also initially struggles to see her chains as chains. When she learns about Vlaakith's betrayal, she copes instantly through denial and shuts it down. Astarion is NOT having it and calls her out, he knows her well enough to recognize that she would value blunt honesty above all.

I imagine he also despises her lack of self-preservation, the way her entire identity is tied to duty and being in service of others, and doesn't understand her desire to still help/liberate the people that want her dead and are hunting her down. He wants to make this duty-bound soldier realize that looking out for herself, and putting herself first may not be the worst thing in the world.

They're so similar to each other but are also polar opposites in some ways that make a more equal, balanced romance I think. It's not a simple, one-sided, feel-good "she/he can fix her/him" fantasy because both of them have to earn each other's love, actually cut through the other's flaws, and actively motivate each other to be better versions of themselves.

They're not at all the other's ideal guiding hand. It's rough, jagged, and imperfect, but that's how healing goes. It's so far from being the healthiest relationship -- but even if their belief systems differ, their moral compass does often align. I imagine it's a slight relief for them to have a partner where there would be less shame and judgment when they expectedly, occasionally slip up and fall into their bad habits.

Also, man, the "You showed me the betweens and beyonds. Beyond war and peace, beyond passion and obsession, most importantly, you showed me freedom.", "First you were my wound, now you were my cure.", "But you saw something else in me - someone else I could be. Someone who could break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago.." lines really hit hard when applied to them.

Of course, they can also make each other worse, feed into the other's negative traits that will bring out the worst part of themselves. It's this duality of their pairing that is very interesting to explore, the way it can steer in either direction because it's an intense, fraught relationship at its core.

[matan4il]

I'm gonna put it as simply and blatantly as possible.

Russia in 2022 attacked another Eurovision participant and made a whole bunch of other contestant countries scared of being attacked next, after already having attacked a fellow competitor in 2008 -> Russia got banned from Eurovision

Ukraine in 2022 got attacked, had its civilians targeted intentionally, did not choose to start the war, has no record of past attacks against ESC contestants, and is not currently posing a threat to any other Eurovision participating country -> Ukraine did not get banned

Israel in 2023 got attacked, had its civilians targeted intentionally, did not choose to start the war, has no record of past attacks against ESC contestants, and is not currently posing a threat to any other Eurovision participating country -> Israel did not get banned

There isn't a double standard, except for people who insist on not following the geopolitical logic. Same ones who didn't use Ukraine's retaliation activities against Russia as justification to get Ukraine banned, but are doing that to Israel, usually with a side dish of false, hyperbolic accusations that have nothing to do with reality.

Also...

The only flags allowed are of participating countries and the pride flag. The American flag is therefore banned. The Mexican flag. The Japanese, the Korean, the Nigerian flags. The world doesn't actually revolve around Palestinians, they're not actually the ultimate victims, and honestly, it's offensive they're cast that way when there are conflicts far worse and bloodier than the current war in Gaza, not to mention it takes away attention and help from them, to make everything constantly about the Palestinians.

Meanwhile, this is supposed to be the rule. Outside the performance hall, but within the borders of the Eurovision village, a visiting Israeli comedian called Guy Hochman was assaulted for walking around with the Israeli flag. Swedish police intervened, but they didn't act against the anti-Israel protesters who attacked and spat on Guy, they stopped him from openly carrying the Israeli flag. He asked why are they not allowing it, even though the flag is of a participating country, in accordance with the rules. He was told it's too dangerous. He then asked why are Palestinian flags not being removed, if they're banned according to contest rules, and was told that in Sweden, freedom of speech is above anything else. He was also grilled about whether he's Jewish by the Swedish policemen. Why was his flag denied, then? Why was his freedom of speech not protected, why was his Jewish identity a matter for questioning?

Another thing, the Swedish singer who ended up in third place in 2011 Eric Khaled Saade went on a childish rant crying over the Palestinian flag being banned (again, as if it's the only one), and as he was invited to perform this year, he got on stage live with a kaffiyeh tied to his left hand, even though he knew that was considered political, and therefore not allowed. Once more, he whined about it as if this is specifically against Palestinians, but you know what? The dress designers wanted to have a Star of David on the dress of the Israeli singer. She's a Jewish woman, that's a Jewish symbol, so why not represent her identity? But they were told that's "political." And you know what the Israeli delegation did? Followed the rules. You won't see the Star of David on Eden's dress. When they were told not to wear the hostage pin, because that's "political"? They followed the rules. When the Israeli song writers were told that their song, expressing Israeli pain, is "too political," what did they do? Followed the rules, they changed the lyrics. And you don't hear them crying about it all over social media and the news.

Not to mention, Eric Saade had no problem kissing the ass of Israeli fans back in 2011, when he competed and needed their votes. Was his dad less Palestinian back then? By the way, Israeli fans didn't hold his identity against him, they didn't demand he be questioned about Palestinian terrorists, or what his stance is on Hamas, they didn't drag politics into it, they focused on music and culture connecting people across borders and identities (as the ESC is supposed to do), and Israel gave its 12 points in both the semi and the final to Eric Saade that year. How did he repay those fans? Campaigning to ban Israel (and therefore them) from the contest, because he's incapable of seeing them as people first, and political rivals second, or maybe even (God forbid!) not at all...

It all smells like hypocrisy to me. But we all know this post won't get anywhere near the exposure (through likes and reblogs) that the lying, self-centered, hypocritical anti-Israel posts do. Doesn't matter. I'll still be here, speaking the truth.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[affableramen]

“Keep riding me” Genshin Impact men x You, the reader

Featured characters: Pantalone, Neuvillette, Capitano, Dottore

Tags: 18+ only please, gender neutral reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Pantalone

His all time favourite is doggy, yet one day he gives his imagination freedom and considers a new position. As he scrolls through many possibilities he finally chooses one pattern and calls you to his office during his break. You see him sit on his couch impatiently, his legs somehow widely spread as he holds his hand to his temples and stares at you with a look full of pure lust. You realise exactly what this will lead to. “But we only have 20 minutes”, you warn him. Yet Pantalone is a but a lustful impatient fool at this moment. “Sit.” You approach the couch and he repeats himself: “Too scared to be on top? Come sit.”

“I am not scared, you scoundrel.”

“Then do it. I want you on top, now. Otherwise my pants might tear.”

You look at him perplexed. Is he so excited?

“My body has been rubbing against my pants for a while now and I am feeling quite… uncomfortable. Will you free me from this useless clothing?”

Vulgar language is natural for him.

You finally settle down on his lap and take his erect stuff out of his pants. Both of you are lucky his office is soundproof, cause it’s loud when you’re riding him.

“Fuck…” Pantalone throws his head back. His body is begging for release and he almost pleads you to empty his balls as the pressure grows insufferable. And you help him do exactly that, while gripping his shoulders and biting on his earlobe. Pants certainly did not expect he’d go so squishy and soft for you. You get your release pretty soon too, definitely proud of making a mess out of a powerful cocky man like him.

Neuvillette

He was wondering when you’d suggest him another position after spending countless nights in the dull missionary. Neuvillette himself is too shy to offer something like this out loud. But since you didn’t make any corrections he decided to be bold once and attempted to offer you something new.

“You want me to ride you?”

“Why not?” He is blushing like crazy yet his expression is unchangeably calm. You look at him astonished and your eyes widened so much Neuvillette is embarrassed to the point he clears his throat and looks away. “Well? I am free this afternoon. My staff has decided to take some of commissions today so I am available. What do you think?”

He is nervous, yet when this finally happens, he lets you use his cock to the last drop. He wants you to milk him dry and he adores seeing you rubbing your body against while he lays back. The sensation of having you literally sit on his dick is so unforgettable and refreshing, he comes hard and lets out some of his voice while doing so. He then covers his face cause he whimpered gently when you let him spill, which is so unlike him.

Capitano

Capitano is a huge guy in all aspects and he is always deliberate and slow with you. One day a thought comes into his mind, a sight of you riding his dick feeds a feral spirit deep inside him. Capitano does not say or suggest anything beforehand. Simply though, when you are alone in your home and get into the sheets together, instead of doing your natural bed sport routine with you under him, he gently pulls you to his lap not spilling a single word. You carefully climb in a better, more convenient position as soon as you take a hint. Capitano lets you move as much as you like. He tenderly squeezes your hips and takes himself in hand, inserting slowly to the fullest. He is so big, you’re panting, gripping his large chest. Once you’re used to the angle, he says under his breath: “Move, won’t you?” And you do so. The both of you finish contented with the experience. Capitano cleans you properly after and kisses your forehead, tucking you into sleep cause of how exhausted and good girl/ boy you are.

Dottore

Dottore… is just Dottore. He wanted an experiment and he’ll get it.

You were both sitting in the living room doing your stuff when Dottore suggests out of the blue: “Let’s have sex, but so that you’re on top riding me.”

You were amazed by hearing such offer from his mouth, considering how indifferent he usually is to stuff like this. Dottore immediately closes his book and puts it away.

“Why does your face look like this?”

“It’s a pity I don’t see yours.”

Dottore chuckles.

“You know I won’t remove the mask”, he pauses, “Now, let me unbuckle my stuff…” He clasps his belt and in no time his pants are loosened. “I won’t need my body naked, just the lower part.” He is always so messy, chaotic, clumsy even. You stare at him silently enjoying the view of his thighs. “Hey, what are you looking at? Just sit on my lap already”, Dottore hisses. You slowly, teasingly approach him, trying to get an impatient reaction. Dottore spreads his hips so that you have full access to him. And then you lower yourself, slowly and gradually. Dottore bites his lip with his sharp teeth. “Shit… you gotta bite my dick off tightening so strongly.”

“I knew you’d like it, Dott.”

Dottore is lazy as fuck and he wants you tonight to move against his crotch. You do so steadily for a while, before Dottore’s thin hands start rummaging over the table next to the couch and he finds a vial with suspicious liquid.

“A little aphrodisiac, just to sharpen the sensation.”

You roll your eyes and give him a skeptical look.

“You were planning it, huh? Dott—"

He pours the liquid first in his mouth and then offers to you. The night which seemed so dull to you ended with more than pleasurable sensations. You learned that Dottore can actually scream during the process.

[sukunas-wife]

I'ma need some more of that pregnant reader and sukuna... That kinda slapped do it again please and thank you🌹

Idk if you meant while pregnant or after Yuji was born but here’s some pregnancy moments 🥹 i tried 🤍

“RYOMEN SUKUNA” your voice cutting Uraume off and gaining an irked look from your husband, “what is wo-” he coughed looking away, Uraume turned to look at you closing their eyes trying to hide a snicker as they looked away and down. There you stood in almost your full glory, your robes open the belt just over your bump, your ladies in waiting running in after you, “Lady y/n! Please! You shouldn’t run around bare showing your belly! You’ll catch a cold!” Sukuna was amused but your glare was something he didn’t want to be on the receiving end for too long. It wouldn’t be the first time you kicked him out of HIS room and HIS bed.

“Is something wrong?” He asked.

“DO YOU NOT SEE THE PROBLEM?” Your snappy attitude would’ve usually rewards you with his own snappy attitude but he was trying his best to not snap at you while pregnant. “You’re round?” He asked as if it were obvious which caused you to tear up “you think I’m round?” ;-;

Hearing Uraume stifle their laugh, you watched your husband’s as he stood up pulling his robe belt free, throwing his outer robe over bus shoulder. Once he was close enough he took your face in two hands squishing it while the other two stripped you, “I don’t think your round, you are around, but you’re round with OUR child, and I don’t see what could be more comforting than knowing you carry the Proof of our intimacy.”

You looked up at him feeling his hands rest on your swollen belly, now covered by his white robes and belt, “My clothes doesn’t fit like it used to- then use my Robes all you want, ask your hand maids to make new clothes. Whatever you need it’s yours to take.” You smiled leaning your head against his palms enjoying how loose and large his robes were. He didn’t know he had basically signed away his freedom, his robes would now be your robes the more your belly swole.

He eyed you the first time you walked up to him with clean robes folded robes. He didn’t understand why you brought him new clothes? “I want your robes, they’re warm… and smell nice…” the heat on your face and expression of embarrassment made him chuckle as he pulled off his robes and belt before securing them over you, his warm hands and finger tips lingering over your neck, collar bone, wrists and hands when he’d fix the collar and sleeves. The warmth taking over you body as you basked in the warmth of his robes. The faint smell of his natural musk mixed in with woody smoke and the incense from the censors he had brought in ever since the months got colder and the physician saying you’d need to take it easier in bed rest now that you were closer to labor.

Yet you always persisted on looking for and hugging your husband just to place your cold hands on his chest or back. It was one of the few things that made him visibly cringe and shiver or freeze up entirely until your hands warmed up against his skin. Now that he thinks about it he spoiled you entirely in your first pregnancy during the day when you’d lay in bed staring at your stomach bump, cold under the thick blankets ribs shivering until you’d pout and call for your Lady in Waiting, she was a young lady who had grown from a young girl, acting sickly you’d tell her call for your husband, she’d smile laughing lightly “Yes Lady y/n, but I’ll do ny best to convince him it’s urgent.” You’d smile at her before she’d rush off, her shows would vary depending how she’d sense Sukuna’s stats of mind. If it were serious, annoyed or aggressive manor, she’d try to approach respectfully, head bowed explaining how you had sent her to retrieve him in urgency because your weren’t feeling well.

There would go Sukuna rushing to your side to find you shivering thinking you were sick without thought he’d placed his hands on you using his reverse cursed technique to heal you of whatever it could be. Only for you to guide his hand to your face still shivering, “Hold me… I’m cold.” He heart was racing thinking you were cold because you were gonna pass, he scooped you up, pressing you against his chest and dragging the heavy embroidered blanket to cover you more, “how are you feeling?”

He’d walked over to the fire place in the room, two of his arms under the blanket holding you close to him, your head on his chest and shoulder. The other two securing the blanket around you as he SAT ON THE GROUND INFRONT OF THE FIRE PLACE. Your hands coming out the blanket to pull his hand and rest it against your face, “I’m healthy, it’s just cold.” You looked helplessly up at him when he looked at you in disbelief, but you smiled and shook his head, “Scared the shit out of me woman!” You pinched your cheek and you whined, “I have an excellent lady in waiting, she needs higher reward.”

Sukuna scoffed, before resting his chin on your head, “Don’t expect this to become a regular request.”

It became a regular request, one he found himself to enjoy that he had Uraume bring something similar to a love seat for him to recline back on so he could lay you against his chest. It happened more than a few times when you’d fall asleep against his chest and he’d slowly fall into slumber after locking his arms around you. More than enough time Uraume and your ladies in waiting had walked in and giggled at the scene before waking Lord Sukuna to suggest moving to let you rest in the bed now that the sun had set and the room was warm.

The it changed when Yuji was born. There were days he eagerly pushed you off to hold his boy on his chest to keep him warm, of course you were jealous that was your husband :’)

I’m the end, your husband always tried to act indifferent and cold, but his heart was warmed by the love, affection and intimacy he had come to know when his fate had become intertwined with you and your son

.

🤍❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤🤍🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🤍

Forgot the Tag list 🫣 this is the “Squishy” Tags List as saved in my notes :’)

@sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @domainofmarie @satorisgirl

[giantkillerjack]

You shouldn't get a wheelchair, walker, cane, shower chair, or any kind of assistive technology mobility aid because then you might become dependent on them. Just like how you also shouldn't get glasses if you have bad eyesight because then you might become dependent on those.

For instance, if you end up stuck using corrective eyewear, you could actually lose your ability to tell what things are even when they are extremely blurry! You need to get used to having migraines from seeing unclearly because if you wear glasses all the time, you are basically giving up!! You don't need to see things coming at you from far away! You just need to get good at dodging, and if you can't, then you have no one to blame but yourself!!

For example, I read a really heart-worming article recently about a girl who was stuck using glasses - just absolutely, tragically trapped in her eyewear from dawn to dusk, even though she was good and never ever complained; and I heard she trained herself to discern the blurry faces of her loved ones with 60% accuracy! - she was even able to walk down the aisle at her wedding WITHOUT forcing the discomfort of seeing a woman in glasses on all her guests!!

Sure, she had to give her vows with a splitting headache, and she couldn't see her husband's expression when he said "I do," but overall, SO inspi-ration-al!!! So up-lifting!!

(She didn't even have to use a seeing eye cane, which would have been the worst-case scenario, obviously, because she worked hard to make sure she looked LESS disabled, not MORE disabled!!! Everyone knows blind people exist solely to be a cautionary tale to sighted people!!)

Also, did you know some people get glasses when they only need them a little bit?? How selfish of them! Sure, there's not a shortage, and an increase in demand would result in overall increased accessibility to glasses--but emotionally it's like taking glasses away from someone who needs them more! After all, if everyone who needed glasses got them, then...... um...... more people would have glasses! Which is probably bad!!!!

I also had a friend who was trapped in glasses who saved up all her money for laser eye surgery, and I don't know why everyone doesn't just do that! Sure, some doctors say some people don't "qualify" and it "won't help" those people, but that's why you can't give up!! You don't want to be one of those people!

After all, what's the worst thing that could happen with an unnecessary laser surgery to the face that comes with crippling debt??? It's worth the risk to gain your FREEDOM back, and I'm so proud of my friend!!

Tragically, she did die later that year while driving Uber and squinting at street signs, but at least now I know my friend is finally free from the shackles of her terrible eyesight. #ripAshley #rippedAshley #justripit 😌😌😌❤😇😇😇

And that's why you shouldn't get used to using a mobility aid!! Because, like glasses, they are inherently embarrassing to be seen with; and - like glasses - it is more noble to suffer silently than to depend on unnatural technologies that force you to rely on them; AND - just like glasses - by abstaining from using them, you DEFINITELY benefit SO many people in tangible life-changing ways!!! (Besides, everyone else will be so much more comfortable if you just look normal! 😊)

I hope you learned something today. 💖

[fumifooms]

I don’t like minimizing the importance and gravity of Laios and Toshiro’s fight into just being a childish squabble, even if to a degree it is framed that way, because to both of them it has a lot of personal significance and emotional weight and runs very deep to their characters… The fight isn’t nothing it’s a LOT, they made up but it’s not something easy to express and to get over for either of them which makes it all the more meaningful! I’m on both sides but there very much are sides, there’s no "they’re both having a ball, Toshiro and Laios hand in hand yay" side to the fight, that comes after

The fight with Toshiro WAS very scary to Laios, almost existentially so, but it’s moreso the "I thought I’d made a friend!!" bit and my god. My god actually

Like it’s not "just" about oh his friend liking him less than he thought, THAT IS SO MUCH. It’s a bond he thought he had being a lie it’s all the time and moments spent together either being a lie from his perspective or marred now looking back. It’s not only being upset at Toshiro for lying but upset at himself that he’s so easy to fool, it’s being upset that there’s something so wrong with you that you can’t even tell if your "close buddy" even actually likes you or not, it’s like. Holding my head. He can’t trust his own vision of events that happened do you see. There’s always this film of distrust that it could be a lie that should be there when he interacts with people there’s always this sense of cloak and dagger to expect backstabs out of nowhere because you CAN’T see it coming you CAN’T you CAN’T there’s something about you which makes it impossible so you CAN’T-

He’s so scared of not being able to read people. He knows it’s a weak spot he has, he’s always known. All of these bits are centered around social expectations and betrayals, the assumption that he doesn’t belong either in society or with other humans.

And Laios’ level of awareness is actually sort of complex to analyze, but it’s there, there’s how out of him and Falin he was the one sensitive to the ~aura of hatred~ he felt from the townspeople, there’s of course his nightmares whispering to him about the mocking looks, and how yeah actually he realizes that his gold stripper coworker was taking advantage of him. There’s of course the Winged Lion speech about his trauma and how he fundamentally mistrusts/dislikes humans to some deep seated degree, this distrust that he still keeps under control always. There’s how pre-canon he often wanted to suggest eating monsters but never worked up the courage to bring it up with the others. There’s how he gets across as stoic when he isn’t being enthusiastic…… We don’t know how aware and wary he is exactly in the moment but we do know he has some anxiety around social stuff, and looking back he does notice and aughh augh, the sense you have to hide yourself to not get hurt and be on your guard and shit and.

When you don’t know what to look out for and when to look out for it, the general ‘common sense’ of not always trusting people or noticing when someone’s messing with you becomes hypervigilance in social settings

"Man they really know what you hate huh". Being socially unaware literally plagues him, he knows, he knows it so well.

It’s so quick that it’s almost hard to digest how literal and blatant Laios summoning his monster to crush all the people who’ve hurt him is. His literal go-to coping mechanism for comfort in his literal monster-induced emotionally intense nightmares, saving him by taking away the upsetting element (the humans)

"Monsters are his coping fantasy, where they can whisk him away from humanity, all the hurt it’s caused him and its arbitrary rules" with the subtlety of a brick. Monsters are his comfort safe zone "because they kill humans" yes but no it’s because he pits them as the guardians against humans who to him are in the role of the agressors. To him they represent freedom from the shackles of what it means to be part of humanity, a fundamentally social species

[driverlando]

Port authority finding you and Max skinny dipping (and Max is protecting you from them seeing anything they should not) and Max brides them not to report the two of you

The moonlight danced on the water’s surface, casting a silvery glow over the sleek yachts lined up along the port. The night was quiet, save for the gentle lapping of waves against the hulls and the occasional distant hum of an engine. You and Max walked along the dock, the cool night air a welcome relief after a hot day.

You paused, glancing at the calm water with a mischievous glint in your eye. “How about we make this night a little more exciting?” you suggested, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Max arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”

You leaned in closer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “Skinny dipping,” you whispered. “Just us and the water. No one around to bother us.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “You’re trouble” But there was no hiding the spark of excitement in his eyes. “But I like the way you think.”

Without further ado, the two of you shed your clothes, leaving them in a heap on the dock. The cool breeze sent a shiver down your spine, but it only added to the exhilaration. You took Max’s hand, and together, you slipped into the water, the initial shock of the cold quickly replaced by a delicious feeling of freedom.

Max surfaced with a gasp, shaking water from his hair and grinning at you. “This was a great idea,” he admitted, splashing you playfully. “Though, you might have to fend off all the photographers if they find out about this.”

You laughed, splashing him back. “Maybe, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

The two of you floated in the water, enjoying the peacefulness of the night. But just as you were starting to relax, the soft thrum of an approaching boat reached your ears. You turned, heart racing, as a small boat with “Port Authority” painted on the side came into view, its searchlight sweeping across the water.

Max immediately positioned himself between you and the approaching boat, his expression shifting to one of focused determination. “Stay behind me,” he whispered, his tone protective yet amused. “Guess we’re about to make someone’s night interesting.”

The boat slowed to a stop a short distance away, and the spotlight fixed on you both. An officer’s voice crackled over a loudspeaker, breaking the night’s tranquility. “This is the port authority. What are you two doing out here?”

Max, ever the cool-headed racer, raised a hand in greeting, keeping his other arm around your shoulders to shield you. “Just taking a swim,” he called out casually, his voice carrying that familiar confident edge. “Didn’t realize there were rules against enjoying the water.”

The officer narrowed his eyes, clearly unimpressed. “This is a restricted area after dark. You can’t be swimming here, especially not like… that.”

Max shrugged, feigning innocence. “Hey, it’s a beautiful night. We couldn’t resist.” He glanced back at you, giving you a quick, reassuring smile. “We didn’t mean to break any rules.”

There was a moment of tense silence, and then the other officer leaned forward, squinting through the spotlight. “Wait a minute… aren’t you… Max Verstappen?”

Max sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. “Guilty as charged,” he admitted. “But listen, how about we make this a fun story instead of a headline?” He reached back to the dock, where his clothes were, and pulled out his wallet from his pants. Holding up a few large bills, he grinned at the officers. “How about we forget you ever saw us here? We’ll be gone before you know it.”

The officers exchanged looks, clearly tempted by the offer. The one with the loudspeaker finally nodded, though he couldn’t hide a smirk. “Alright, Mr. Verstappen. We’ll let you off this time, but get dressed and get out of here. We don’t want to see this in the tabloids tomorrow.”

Max gave them a playful salute. “You got it, officers. Thanks for the discretion.” As the boat began to turn away, he called out, “And hey, maybe come to a race sometime! I’ll make sure you get the best seats.”

Once the boat had disappeared into the darkness, you and Max burst out laughing, the adrenaline mixing with relief. “That was close,” you said, still grinning as you swam back toward the dock.

Max helped you out of the water, keeping his eyes on yours with a cheeky grin. “That was too close,” he agreed, wrapping a towel around you before grabbing his own clothes. “But I think we handled it pretty well. Not every day you get caught skinny dipping by the authorities and get away with it.”

You shook your head, amused and a little breathless. “You do if you’re Max Verstappen”

He chuckled, pulling you into a quick kiss. “You make life exciting, I’ll give you that,” he murmured, his voice full of affection. “But maybe next time, we pick a less risky spot. Just a suggestion.”

You laughed, nodding in agreement as you both quickly dressed. “Agreed. But it was worth it, just for the story.”

Max grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Absolutely. And hey, if we’re going to get into trouble, might as well make it memorable, right?”

[musedblues]

AMORE ~ FATI (part 1)

a/n: wait until the movie? nah. haven't stopped thinking about this freaky fucker since the trailer dropped! eat up, babes. also the horny police called and there is a warrant out for my arrest.

description: after winding up in a crime related to the royals, geta strikes up a deal with you.

warnings: down right hoe shit, sexual descriptions, gruesome descriptions, minimal historical research/ distant memories from high school test, cliff hanger. MINORS DNI

Part 1 of 2 (at least)

///

The afternoon was like any other, the day your life changed. You awoke to an empty home, gathered your cart of crafts, and headed to the stalls. You sold your paintings there and begged the clouds to cover the swelter of the sun.

For your landscape art, you accepted coin. You accepted food. You accepted a jeweled ring that afternoon, just as well. An exchange like it wasn't out of the ordinary. You pawned the adornment for cash that evening, and made the trek back home. With plans to paint pictures into the night, to sell off the next day.

Your home was quaint, once big enough for two, now only you haunted the halls. The man you'd once been forced to marry had been dead for many months now, and a certain freedom was found in his absence. But a certain monotony about your routine seemed to predetermine the days ahead as far as you could see them. So, you painted.

As you fiddled with brushes and stained your grey dress with speckles of deep amber, a bursting knock came across your door. The guest gave you no time to greet them before turning into an intruder. Two royal guards burst into your home, shouting and grabbing you and dragging you away. All so quickly.

You went fighting. You cursed as they held you in a carriage. You demanded their silence broken. But they remained stone faced as you begged to know why you'd been abducted from your home. 

Your captors rode into the city, past the colosseum, right through the gates that led to the home of the reigning family.  Your heart hammered in fear, knowing what you knew about the rulers. Caracalla and Geta had only just taken over the reign of their father, their mother looming near, picking sides; as you understood. Since the change in leadership, Rome hadn't suffered en mass. But a growing dread hung heavy over the population, knowing the brothers were struggling to join together in power. Knowing their clash divided not only their power, but all of Rome.

You were grabbed at once more, forced out of the carriage and into the great hall of the estate. Gold and red statues lined the entrance. A plum rug stretched before your feet, a welcoming cushion as the rest of your senses were drowned by harshness. Before you, pacing near his throne, Geta waited. 

You'd seen him and his brother before, trailing behind their father at rallies. Lingering near the stands at games. You'd always let your gaze settle on Geta, if ever you'd seen him. You'd always been drawn to gawk at the trimness of his figure. The enigmatic expressions he would pull. The presence he commanded. He was easy to admire, from afar. And the towns ladies often gossiped of how alluring he could be up close, if they were lucky enough to be invited to do so. No one spoke as much of Caracalla. In his name, fear and loathing often followed.

With a glare in your direction, Geta ceased pacing. He nodded toward his guards to relinquish their hold on you.

"What is all this?" You demanded, refusing to bow or humble yourself before this ruler in anyway. How could you dare offer up respect when little to none had been offered to you? Geta seemed taken aback, for a flash. His brows furrowed and his lips parted in shock, at your boldness. But then a grin flickered across his lips and his pacing started up once more.

"You're in possession of something of mine, no?" Geta alluded. Want as you might've to argue, to proclaim your innocence, you were too baffled. What could he possibly be on about?

"You were seen taking a ring as payment today, at your stall." Geta boomed, voice filling the room, echoing off the tall painted ceilings. He started into a story, then, that made things clearer. You learned that ring was a family heirloom, stolen by a servant only one night ago. That he'd sold it to a carriage driver for freedom. You learned that servant had been slain. But the ring was still gone. And you were the last person seen with the distinct bluish jewel in your palm. There were many a shopper along the street market this morning. Several were looking into your stall as you accepted the ring for payment. You couldn't deny the action. But you didn't have it any longer, anyhow.

"I exchanged it for money. With the sellers near the river." You decidedly conceded. "I've got nothing more to do with this now release me." Your voice shook, out of fear for your fate, and anger for your circumstance. 

"Names." Geta stalled his meander, a few steps away from you. His dark eyes had cast across your figure before boring right into yours. You couldn't look right at him without feeling a shiver up your spine. And you were not about to let on that Geta had this effect on you. So, you cast your gaze to the hands at his sides, and scoffed at what you saw.

"Why? Are the rings already on your fingers not good enough? You cannot be allowed to want for what you don't have, if you're in possession of more than enough already."

"What's mine is mine! No one else's." Geta yelled, keeping his eye's boring into yours. His voice shook through the halls, and fueled your rage further. Your rage for your circumstance, and for that of this nation.

"Your greed shall poison this empire." You spat at the man.

"An empire I was born to rule cannot be soured, destiny has been at work since my conception and my father's before me." Geta grinned, an all-knowing sort of smile that was meant to belittle you, you were certain. But you couldn't be made to feel so worthless.

"We are all born to die, your highness."

"Your opposition will result in bleakness if you do not answer my call for this information. Give me their names." Geta shouted, still inches from you. Geta was giving you a chance to answer. And that shocked you. You voiced your opposition only because you thought you were surely moments away from being killed, and refused to die without standing your ground. But here you still stood. Geta was letting you. 

As taken aback by his patience as you were, his arrogance and demanding shouts were only deepening your desire to withhold. To stand resolute. Who were you to ruin some poor people's lives over a bit of jewelry? Your silence was deafening, each passing moment tensing at Geta's shoulders. You watched his jaw clench, you watched his eye's dance between your own. You smiled. 

"Get her out of my sight." Geta hissed, waving his men to capture you once more. You rolled your eyes as they grabbed at you. "Keep her in the cellar until she starts talking. Do not, however... take drastic measures."

You shot a perplexed frown the rulers way as he shook his head in your direction. A scowl turned Geta's lips down. But as he watched you begin to growl in unwillingness to go, his smile curled to life.

"And what of you? What punishments are you allotted?" You yelled as the guards dragged you away. Geta kept his furrowed smirk pointed at you, a puzzled sparkle in his eye.

///

The cellar smelled damp as it felt, your feet squelching along the dirt paths. You'd been taken past a row of prisoners, all in various stages of wither. You closed your eyes too them, offering silent prayers for their fates in passing. 

"In you go," A guard shoved you toward the back of a small cell, chuckling as he locked the barred off door. "When you're ready to talk, we just might be around to listen. Let's hope we don't forget about you all the way over in this corner."

How had you ended up here? Hours ago, you'd been at peace in your quiet cottage, paint brush in hand. Now you sat on a wooden bench, senses filled with cold. How were the gods so cruel? Why did you have to accept that stupid ring? Why didn't you admire it longer? Maybe you would've found evidence of its owner, somehow, in the royal gleam of the thing. Maybe you could have returned it with honor, the promise of your home awaiting you. But none of that was happening. Now, you were unsure of everything. But you weren't going to go down without a fight. You weren't going to rat out the innocent fellow you pawned with, for simply surviving another day of this confounding life. You weren't eager to play into the rulers demands for more, as if he didn't have enough. As if he deserved to be granted assurance when himself and his brother offered Rome none.

Hours must've passed. Guards floated by time and again, jeering at you through the bars of your cell. As they passed you by, the voices grew louder yet, giving other prisoners hell. You heard shouts and screams. You heard begging for torture to cease. You heard the stabbing of flesh and the gurgle of blood. You heard the quiet from your own cell. Why were you being spared of such treatment? Why was your confinement different from the others?

As you began to question your own sanity, and the fate the gods had in store for you, a guard was passing by your cell once more. He stopped there, jamming a key into the lock. This was it. Your turn had come. You braced to be berated as the man reached in and yanked you to stand. The guard demanded you to follow as he dragged you through the cellar the same way you'd come in.

Suddenly you were in the great hall again. The purple carpet like clouds under your step. There were servants arranging decor as if an event were to be taking place soon. Your observation of the hall was short lived as the single guard dragged you up a marble staircase. The home was vast, and full of well painted statues and portraits and windows. The sun was long gone from the sky. It had to be later than midnight. As you soaked up your surroundings and let your imagination run wild, you tried not to worry how you'd be executed. You tried to remind yourself that death waited for no one. You tried to remember the last picture you'd been painting, a field of sheep under a setting sun.

Your captor stalled before a great carved door, twisting the handle. Your captor dragged you inside. 

Candles lit a room with a bed in the middle, the biggest you'd ever seen. The amber glow of the space was welcoming, despite the terror that resided about your situation. Beyond the bed was a table full of wine, bottles of all sort decorated the clothed stand. Before the table, was Geta. His slump on a stool shifted when he saw you. Moving to stand, the man dressed more scarcely than before was slow to approach you. His expression unreadable.

"Leave us." He demanded, pointing the guard to exit the room. The man's parting left chills in his wake. What was to become of you now? What was this all about?

Geta did not stay still at your front. He instead let his head roll from one side to the other as his pace turned back toward the cloth covered table. Among the bottles of wine were a scattered few chalices. He filled one with a drink. And then another. 

"We caught the carriage driver who initially accepted the ring." Geta announced, back toward you all the while. You admired the tone of his shoulders, as one was left uncovered by his robe. The cloth stayed tied among his waist. "We also captured the man you pawned the ring off to. We have the ring." Geta continued, bringing both cups of wine over to where you stood. Ah, so poison was to be your execution?

Accepting the chalice in a fist, you stayed silent all the while. Geta locked his tired gaze on yours and kept talking. 

"The ring was my fathers. Something he left just to me. Caracalla was given finery as well, just for himself. We do not do well with equity, my brother and I." Geta raised his wine for a sip and kept his dark gaze locked on your own. His eye's were red from lack of sleep, it seemed. His eyes were bright, all the while, as they peered into yours. This leader had a way of drawing you in. This leader had a way of making you forget you were probably on the verge of slaughter or worse.

"And while this mission to hunt down the ring has been my mission alone, Caracalla's wrath has still been promoted since he learned something of our fathers had gone missing." Geta explained. 

"What's become of the carriage driver and the man I sold your ring to?" You dared to wonder. 

"The servant was killed as you know, by Caracalla's own sword. The driver has been exiled at my command." Geta said. "But the man you sold it too was killed as well, by my brother's guards. Before I could get to him. You see my wrath is often equal to Caracalla's. But my bloodlust isn't as insatiable. And I can see his way of violence has stirred fear among our people. Would you agree?"  

You had to nod. 

"I do not wish death upon you. Blood should only be shed in battles and in honor. You were a simple moving part. You should not deserve to be killed in the crossfire. But you should pay for stumbling where you dared not have stepped. Otherwise, Caracalla will catch wind that I let you slip away without a punishment. And he will do worse."

"So, what is my fate?" You wondered, clutching the wine in your fist, unmoving. Mind whirring. Had you really been shown a backhanded kindness by the ruler you'd always believed to be more unyielding? His already alluring nature becoming more attractive as you understood this to be true.

"Exile seems drastic, yes. But it's an option." Geta raised his glass to gesture, moving to pace before a cushioned chaise. This room, his room, wanted for nothing. There was space and comfort and treasure promised throughout its expanses.

"Then there could be a fine. You'd be meant to pay every fortnight." Geta reasoned drinking once more. Still not entirely trusting of your own wine, you rested the chalice on a nearby chest, crossing your arms with a scowl. As if this Empire needed more money. 

"I'm too poor to keep that up." You spat, expressing displeasure in your tone. Geta raised a brow and frowned when he realized your implication, how much work needed to be done for the betterment of the population. With a sigh, Geta cast his gaze about the room. When his pace turned naturally closer to you, his eye's locked on your face as a realization dawned across his. Geta let a smirk hint at his lips as his dark eyes glanced into yours. 

"There is... another way..." Geta implied something you didn't see coming. As the man continued his languid back and forth, his gaze stayed ever fixed on your figure. And you hadn't really been ashamed of the glances you'd stolen of his, this day. He was drawing closer, as if to entice you. He didn't need to know that it wouldn't have taken much seduction. He didn't need to know that you'd already been wondering what it would be like to untie the robe at his waist.

Geta didn't need to know that you were becoming less wrought with terror by the second. You'd hoped he'd never known you were afraid, before. But now, in the flickering candlelight of his lavish room, you saw him. The persona Geta had put on all these years, all this time, was just that. You could see plain as day. Geta was full of anger, yes. But he seemed full of so much more, to you, now, too. The man seemed to hold a brewing mixture of depth about him that felt so obvious all of a sudden. Now, more endeared to the ruler, and just as attracted, you made up your mind.

"Seeing as I have no funds... let's just get this over with." You sighed, feigning impatience for the wrong reasons.

Geta circled you, eyeing you up. You wanted to melt under how hot his gaze was. But right now this was all happening far too slowly. Your interest had skyrocketed. But your time had also been heavily wasted here. You had plans, after all. He'd held you captive long enough. 

"Sit down. I'm tired of waiting." You barked at him, shoving his shoulder so he collapsed into the chaise. Geta fell seated at your order but looked up to you with an irate sneer. An anger passed over his expression but morphed into curiosity in a blink.

"Seeing as to how I'm getting what I want out of you, I don't mind giving into your demands." Geta announced, as if to remind you he was the one calling the shots. You couldn't help but grin, struggling not to roll your eyes at the man's obsession with power. Humming so he knew you heard him, you settled either knee at Geta's sides. 

As the ruler's fingers reached to grab at your hips, your day flashed before your imagination. Funny how life worked. How days could be spent so monotonously for so long only to become upturned and scattered about the next. You never imagined you'd find yourself straddling one of Rome's emperors over a payment for your latest painting. 

Geta's kiss surprised you. Not the fact that it was bruising, and harsh. But the fact that it was. You assumed this would go quickly, without much effort put into anything besides a quick and vulgar shagging. Granted, his lips didn't press into yours longer than a couple minutes, before his teeth were digging into your neck. But the way his hands wandered to grab at your limbs and claw at your skin was a welcomed affection you had not expected. 

When you finally got to untie the robe around his waist, you couldn't help but admire the build of his core, the shape of his figure. You'd heard girl's oggle over the emperor before, he was no stranger to trysts of most kind. You'd heard girl's trade deadly details of their nights spent with Geta, his lust unbridled. But the sight of his body bare before yours was better than any rumor you'd caught wind of. 

As you lowered yourself into Geta's lap, he was quick to rock his hips against yours with force you had been bracing for. His grip on your hips threatened to turn you over, but you'd be damned if you let him gain complete control. You rose a hand to the man's head, raking a set of fingers through his hair. Your fingers curled to grip with perhaps too much gusto, and your hips rolled to force Geta back, more fully seated. 

You heard the man let out a hoarse curse as his grip lightened, as he accepted your dominance. Did this really count as payment if you were getting more out of it? 

Geta pushed you away when it was all said and done, a steady hand stayed holding your side as he nudged you off of his lap. You maneuvered to stand, adjusting the skirt of your dress with a sigh.

"I suppose I should thank you for sparing my life. Surely thought you'd take it. Shame our exchange has come to an end. Didn't quite feel like a payment at all." A daring smirk painted your face as you turned to head for the door. You heard Geta lumber to stand, perhaps drunk off wine and pleasure. His feet padded as your hand reached for the handle of your escape.

"What was the painting?" Geta asked, stalling your leave and perplexing you to turn to face him. He was shrugging his robe back into place with a raised brow. "The painting bought with my ring, what was it?" 

"Oh," You realized, pursing a frown. "I- I don't exactly recall. I do a lot of landscapes. Seascapes. Could've been anything like it." You noted. Geta watched you speak, mouth opened, stalled to say more. His tongue glided over the ends of his teeth as the man nodded and sauntered back toward his table full of wine. 

"My guards will see to your return home." Geta called, back facing you. You took that as your leave, anxious for some rest after exhausting your mind with wonder all day, and your body with pleasure this night. As you shut the emperor's door with a soft click, a gratitude filled your chest. That could've gone a lot worse.

///

The next day seemed surreal. You recalled the night like a fevered dream, like a plot from a book. But there were scratches along your thighs that reminded you what had happened was very truly real. You recalled the feelings Geta stirred in you with warmth.

You milled from room to room, mind in constant awe of the way your life had been spared. Since the brothers had come into power, so many senseless killings had been threatened and followed through. So much violence had afflicted common criminals and the odd person out of place alike. Was it more to do with Caracalla? Was he truly the more cruel? Did Geta have a softness about him? Or had you just gotten damn lucky?

You went about your daily chores and sat down to paint. Your art displayed sheep dotting across greyish green land. Your setting sun was in progress. A breeze flowed through the window, and you imagined it in your painting as well. A knocking rattled your door. It's persistence grating your nerves. Only now, at least, no one was intruding. 

Maybe that's why you were shocked more so now than before, to see two royal guards at your front door. 

"Geta is demanding your audience." One of them chuckled lowly before reaching to grab at you. He was too strong to fight off, though kick and yell you did.

Oh God, he'd realized he'd let you off easy, hadn't he? You should've pretended to hate rocking against his lap in that chair. You should've begged for freedom. Or maybe it was Caracalla after all. Maybe he'd heard of your involvement with his father's stolen ring and wished you dead. And these guards were luring you in with a false promise that Geta was the one wishing for a meeting.

While your mind raced, and the carriage took off into the city and passed the colosseum, you cursed the guards for dragging you away again. For being such fowl scum of the earth to manhandle women like they did.

It wasn't long before you were being yanked from the ride and marched into the great hall with that luscious purple carpet underfoot. Geta was there, assessing a scroll with a couple of servants nearby. His shock surprised you, when his glance looked up from the papers. 

As you squirmed against the holds the guards kept on you, Geta shoved the scroll he held onto, into the grasp of a servant. He drew his sword from his side, the instrument of war and horror blinding you in its brightness. The emperors stomp in your direction was quick, his footfall shaking the building and you to your core. This was it. This was your fate.

"Release her now!" Geta yelled, directing his fury to one of the guards at your side. Before the words fully formed from the man's mouth, either of the guard's grips had unlatched from your arms. You did not see that coming. You almost couldn't comprehend that his blade had missed piercing straight through you.

"You were gone for all of a few seconds before you bring her back here?" Geta quizzed, face red with anger. He held the end of his sword to the man's chin, forcing his footsteps back. 

"You- you told us to go fetch the girl from last afternoon, is that not what we did your highness?" The guard was bold in asking, though his voice trembled. 

"I told you to ask her to come. I told you to remain at her door in patience. And you dare drag the woman back in the matter of mere moments? With force? That's a direct disregard of my orders!" With speed that rallied a gasp from your throat, Geta whipped his sword to slash at the knees of the guard that defied him. The man let out a cry as his legs gave way, sending the fellow to collapse. Geta ordered the other guard to take the injured one to a medic and stay there until he was ready to deal with them further. His blood pooled and stained the purple carpet. 

"Why am I here again?" You couldn't linger in uncertainty any longer, once again failing to greet the leader without any respect of his authority. Geta plunged his red stained sword into its sheath as he demanded his servants get out. The workers scattered at the sound of his command, scurrying toward exits. The room was filled with quiet as Geta turned to face you fully. 

"I'm sorry they dragged you here. You were only meant to show up if you so wished." Geta's voice was lower, his rage subdued. He confounded you, the way he held so much darkness and contempt about him. The way he eased into constraint. These were not the stories you had heard. This was not the man described to you by retired servants and wives of soldiers. He was more withheld, before you. And it caught you by surprise time and again. 

"But since you are here now, and you have not yet raised a hand to lash across my cheek, I shall tell you," Geta went on, letting his eyes do what they had done before. Letting his gaze sweep across your figure. "I asked you here to present to you a proposition. An invitation to spend more evenings like the one we shared just before."

"You cannot be serious." You let a breath of a laugh fan from your throat. 

"I'm hardly ever anything but." Geta reasoned with a curled lip and a shrug of his shoulder in a way you knew was meant to get you to chuckle for real. This man continued to confound you. This man contained multitudes. How had no one else, in all their gossip, mentioned this?

"Is this more to do with payment? Did our exchange not suffice?" You reasoned, still uncertain of the terms in which Geta was asking. 

"I think you know exactly how well our exchange sufficed. Well enough for me to not have stopped dreaming of doing exactly that time and time again. I'm merely asking because I wish too." Geta was so close, his breath ghosting across your cheek, his eyes searching yours. "And now you get to decide what you wish. Who am I to deny you a choice?"

"What happens should I turn to leave?" You wondered. 

"A guard would take you home. And with fair treatment, I'd make certain." 

"What happens should I stay?" 

"A servant would take you upstairs. And your imagination could fill in the rest." 

Well, this certainly wasn't how you expected your day to turn out. That painting of all the sheep and the sunset would have to wait another long day. You suddenly couldn't dream of plans outside of those featuring Rome's half reigning emperor. 

With a nod toward the door you'd seen Geta's servants go through, he grinned. 

With footsteps more certain of the direction of his room, you found yourself locked in there, waiting.

///

The next weeks were filled with plans you couldn't tell anyone without fear they'd think you'd gone mad. You spent days milling about the stalls to sell your landscape paintings, careful of the payments you accepted. You'd harvest the fruits from your garden for meals and wait until night fall, when your promised escort arrived.  

Nights were spent in Geta's room, on his floor, against his wall, in that blessed chaise. Nights were spent shoving the emperors head into the pillows as your hips rocked together. Nights were spent demanding he speed up and slow down at your desire. Nights were spent with Geta sharing wine in between drawn-out romps. You'd drink and laugh and carry on, a couple times until the sun peaked dimly into a new day. You'd stay drinking, sharing stories about where you had come from and your hardships. Things you'd hardly spoken of before. Things you couldn't believe Geta would listen so intently to.

It started off as only a few times throughout any given week. But at the end of those nights Geta would always ask about the next. You'd offer up a day or a time and he'd promise you that he'd see to it happening. He would pour you more wine and tell you the dirtiest jokes, and ask what pleased you most before those nights ended. 

But after a while, he stopped asking. And your escort showed up outside your door more nights than most. And it became a rather expected part of the schedule of either of your days.

This night as you padded across the purple carpet, following behind a servant you'd come to trust; a ruckus was sounding from the stairwell you headed toward.

There you found Geta and his brother spitting fowl words in one another's direction. The men were swarmed by guards, ready to take on any outcome of the boys spat. And while they argued about political things you weren't privy to the full details of, you understood they spoke their father's name. You heard Caracalla remind Geta that their father had decidedly upped Rome's soldiers pay to ensure their loyalties to the empire. You heard Geta shout something about how his father was dead, how the brothers needed to learn to ensure loyalties in their own manner. And then he noticed you had arrived. 

"Thank God." Geta seethed, waving his brother off, taking the stairs two at a time to lower himself to greet you. 

"For you, Geta, trust is easily earned, isn't it?" Caracalla shouted, still domineering about the stairs. "A bat of your lashed eyes toward any common whore and they come flooding through our halls." Caracalla cast a snarl in your direction that turned Geta's blood so hot you swore you could feel the smoke coming off him. With a decidedly quick hand, you rested your fingers to grip Geta's arm, stopping him from running up the staircase to rip his brother in two. You didn't care so much what Caracalla thought of you, so long as Geta's opinion remained unchanged.

"But my powers of persuasion are not so charming. And I must demand trust more harshly. And I must remain harsh to keep control. And I do control the half of this empire entrusted in my name!" Caracalla was seething, fists balled at his sides, eyes bulging with rage. You'd never known anyone to be fueled by such negativity. Geta had slowly started toward his brother, letting your grip remain on his arm. 

"We'll reach an agreement. But not till morning. Go back to your side of the estate, now." Geta demanded, taking the staircase slowly, keeping his eyes on his brother. The younger one stood shaking with fury as the elder led you to his room. Guards and servants followed, wordlessly seeing the pair of you behind closed doors. A couple of soldiers usually waited on either end of this hall, but tonight a few more lingered near in addition. These boys really hated each other.

Once locked in his room, safe from rage and question, Geta had you pinned against the wall. He'd usually greet you. He'd usually ask about what paintings you'd sold that day, or if you'd had any great stories of your family before they sold you to a husband. Or of your husband before he died. But tonight, Geta was ravenous. Tonight, he moved more accordingly to the rumors you'd once heard about him.

The emperor didn't fuss with your clothes. He didn't give you time to unravel his either. No sooner than his hand had crept up the skirt of your dress, was he rocking his hips into yours, pounding your back against the wall.

Your nails clawed at the back of his neck and your legs curled to flex around his waist. Geta was relentless as his body hammered into yours. He huffed harder with each new pulse and let out some cursed sighs when your teeth pierced into his shoulder, to keep from screeching all the same. You knew the guards could hear from the hall. But they didn't need to hear more than they had too.

His efforts had ended, his face stayed buried in your neck. But you weren't ready for it to cease.

"You think you're finished? You're only just getting started." You barked, pawing at Geta's head and forearm, shoving him downward. He didn't hesitate, his knees cracked to the floor with force you knew had to hurt. But he didn't seem phased. Geta seemed entirely entranced on bending your knee over his shoulder. Scratching his fingers along your skin. Burying his head between your legs. And he did so consciously, like a duty being fulfilled. He was relentless tonight, and you felt lucky to be relented against.

When your pleasure had ended, and you were left to slide from the wall to find footing, you found the wine too. 

"Well, I can't help solve Rome's problems," You began, pouring you each a drink. "But I hope I've just helped solve some of your own, your highness." You half mocked, but half spoke in well-meaning regard. Geta hummed somewhere behind you. His voice sounded nearby. But his hands fell to close the space between you, gripping at the hilt of your hips. 

"Dunno, might need to try a couple more times." You could hear the smile in his tone, and you felt his sultry chuckle against your neck, where he nearly dared to place a kiss, but didn't. Geta only reached ahead for his chalice, and asked about your day.

///

 You didn't need to sell paintings. You could've lived a basic enough life, fed from the food you grew in your garden, rested from the comfort of your own bed. Secure enough in your late spouses left over finances. 

You had known married life for all of five years. Wed before you'd even turned old enough to know better. All because your parents thought it best. They said you'd been sold to a husband to take care of you, in the long run. He did care for you, in his own twisted way. He kept you fed and housed until he died. And he left all his meager earnings to you in his passing. It wasn't much, but it was enough for you, for now, for a while.

You started painting when you moved in with him, to fill the days that dragged on so endlessly. You dreamed of freedom from the man for so long. And kept painting when he died, to fill those same days that were just as endless and a lot quieter to boot. He'd left you all alone in the expanses of the great wide world, yet freedom seemed even more unobtainable to you then, somehow. So, you painted. And decidedly started selling those paintings when the house filled up without room for any more of them. You kept selling them when you realized how eagerly peers bought from you.

You'd made friends down at the stalls. You found a quaint routine there, waiting in the sun to trade paintings for coins, and chattering with townspeople while the mornings stayed young. Bakers and seamstresses and writers alike shared your routine, all becoming familiar faces you were pleased to see each day.

"Goodmorning, you!" A trio of girls your age came giggling your way. Girls you'd invited over a few times. Girls you were happy to see now. 

"Listen, are you going to the games in three day's time? I'd like us all to twirl about the colosseum buzzed on vino, carefree!" The small brunette leaned across the table your art was displayed on. 

"She just wants to go to wait on Geta, afterward. He always invites girls in after the games." The blonde rolled her eyes, leaning against the post of your stall as you chuckled in understanding, and out of sudden apprehension. You and Geta agreed to your trysts because he trusted how discreet you could be. When you refused to bend your will to give the names of the people you pawned his ring to, he admired that. You couldn't give yourself away, now.

"But haven't you heard?" The redhead leaned in, waving you all to listen closer. "Geta hasn't invited any of the girls that wait at the empire gates in, in weeks." 

You'd often trailed in past that very line of girls in question, much to their growing displeasure. Luckily, none of them were from the side of the country you had resided. None of them could spread your name around in whispers, as they did not know it.

"I'm still eager to take my chances." The brunette joked, going on to beg you to come to the games at the colosseum.

"I don't know." Was the best answer you could give without disappointing your friends, or thinking up a messy lie on the spot.  

///

Another night in Geta's room was unusually spent in his bed. You'd been used to being forced against a chest of drawers, his voice growling in your ear. Or yours demanding the emperor sit on the stool before the table of wine, and wait in agony like a good, obedient, merciful ruler.

But tonight, Geta had you moving slower in his sheets. He'd closed his eyes as your hips rocked atop his, nice and easy. And when he reached to flip you over, his core pierced languidly into yours. His hand brushed across your cheek and his eyes stayed steadily locked on yours.

"Are you feeling quite alright?" You couldn't help but worry, too overcome with the silence that fell about the room. Geta had been resting at your side, his finger tracing the same pattern against your stomach forever.

"What if you stayed, tonight?" The ruler asked, after a while.

"You didn't answer my question. You realized, still confused as to what mood you'd found Geta in tonight. You'd been often surprised by his wit and his resolution. But this wasn't a way you'd known the emperor before. 

"You didn't answer mine either." He pointed, finger still dancing across the skin of your abdomen. You turned your head to find Geta's gaze. His head rested on a pillow at your side, his eyes rolling up to lock with yours. His dark brown stare was illuminating. His curls graced his head so delicately. His silence was so reticent this night. Maybe it was the fact neither of you had had any wine.

"I'll stay if you tell me what's going on in that head of yours." You shot a pointed look to the man at your side who let a lifeless smile flash across his lips as his eyes turned away from yours. Silence filled the room once more, but you got the sense that Geta was choosing his words a while. 

"Nothing... none of this is how I thought it would be." Geta spoke. You kept your eyes cast across his amber lit room, fixating on the pattern of the wallpaper. What did he mean? 

"What's this?" You quizzed. "Ruling an empire? Sleeping with me? Sobriety from wine for a night?" You tried to joke, desperate for some kind of clarity.

"None of it." Geta responded, his inflection implying everything you listed was weighing on his mind then. And that surprised you. He was always surprising you. Silence settled yet again, and stayed for a while. It was Geta who broke it, after so long. He sat up to meet your eye, searching your gaze before offering a nod. You nodded back, knowing that meant your promise to stay here had been sealed. He rose from the bed to dim the candles, and crashed back into it with a sigh. 

When Geta rested his head of golden curls on your chest, in the dark and quiet of his room, you finally understood what he meant. This was all very different now, than it started. None of it had turned out in an expected way. But you felt at ease with it all. You hadn't shared a bed with anyone since your late husband, and those times simply did not count in your mind. You did not care for that man as you had come to care for the one laying against you now. And that dawned on you in fear. But then, a realization that it didn't matter. Not now. Now, you got to rest under the weight of the emperor, for one peaceful night.

///

The next morning was bright and felt early in your bones. And it wasn't long before it hit you, the games were meant to happen today. Geta's stirring at your side was a relished wonder, as his smile widened to see you upon waking. But it all came crashing down as servants and soldiers demanded quick work of getting up and ready for the day of events. 

"It will be too hard to send you away now, with all the crowds starting to gather." Geta realized, peering from the window of his room to the public below. "I'll have some appropriate attire sent for you. You shall join us today." The emperor's smile was bitten back, but you saw it reached his eyes as his looked into yours. 

Things were shifting with Geta. Night's were turning into days with him. Festivities were offered to be shared. You knew better than to ask. You knew better than to wonder why. You simply thanked him for his offer and waited for clothes to change into as the leader headed out of his room, yelling for a guard to hurry along and follow. You milled about Geta's room, admiring the wallpaper in the daylight. Admiring the stained glass of his window. You traced your finger along carved chests and bed posts. You dared to open a drawer, finding a collection of jewelry there, a familiar blue stoned ring at the front of the collection. 

You snapped the drawer shut in a hurry when a knock came across the door. 

"Hello." A familiar face entered. Julia, the Emperors mother, twirled in the room with a stack of garments. "These are mine from seasons past. I brought a few, just in case." The woman was dear, with soft curls that matched her sons, gold earrings that brightened her blue eyes. She smiled and introduced herself as if she needed too. For her, you bowed.

"Such a pretty thing, you are." Julia cooed, resting her clothes at the foot of the emperor's bed before turning to consider you. "I've seen you come and go. Quite the feat to boast over. Geta never struggled to make friends, not like Caracalla. But he has failed to keep so many of them."

 Julia kept a studying gaze on you as you thanked her for her kindness and watched her saunter out the door. The woman told you to meet the family downstairs once you readied yourself. That's when a certain anxiety settled in the pit of your stomach. What was this? What had you gotten yourself into? Worry plagued your mind as you squeezed into a bright blue and plum skirt. The fabric hugged at your figure but fell so elegantly to the floor. You never dreamed of such finery adorning you. You'd never dreamed of a life so different from the one you'd been used to living.

Downstairs, everyone had gathered, gearing up to head out. Guards of every kind kept the ruling brothers on either side of the room while Julia flitted about, laughing with a man you didn't know. Senators and councilors seemed to mingle with the family just as well, their wives and children patiently lingering on the outskirts of the gathering. 

When Julia found you descending the stairs her first greeting after a smile was to tell you how perfectly the dress fit, how powerful you seemed entering the room. She said you held a certain presence about you, keeping a watchful eye on your expression as you gushed to thank her for such continued kindness.

And then you were off, trailing with the wives and the children of the party as the royal family presented themselves before the public. They were loved and hated so that the cheers and boo's from the crowd muddled together in an indistinguishable roar. Your heart pounded to realize how close you were to the action of the day, to realize how viscerally the opinion of the public mattered to the fate of the royals.

You watched Caracalla pull some face, pointing a finger at a citizen who cursed his name on the families walk toward the colosseum. You watched women line themselves along the path Geta walked, his politics be damned. You watched as he turned to look back, smile stretching wider as his eyes found yours. You watched then, as Julia stalled to join your side, and failed to calm the quickening of your heart as she held your arm to walk with you. None of this was how it used to be.

The woman leaned in, explaining exactly how today's games were meant to go. She yammered about the history of it all and pulled a few giggles from your throat as she threw in some personal deadly details about old games she'd bore witness too.

Once you'd all reached the colosseum, the brothers were ushered off to find their royal box, while Julia strategically placed you just outside of there. She frowned when she reminded you could not be allowed to join them further than here, but smiled when she hoped you'd enjoy the day's events. You watched her saunter off, stopping a guard and pointing in your direction before she disappeared in the box all the while. The guard locked his gaze with yours, offering a respectful nod as you considered your surroundings. 

All kinds of vendors and stalls were open around every entrance of the arena. All kinds of people wandered about, sampling food and drink, playing cards at tables until the event's kicked off. You decidedly began to wander about, accepting free samples and smiling to people you'd seen in passing. You shielded your eyes from the sun and noticed that guard trailing nearby, keeping a steady eye on your every move. 

When the crowds began to clamor toward the inside of the arena, you realized the games were about to begin. You downed a free sample of wine and found your way to watch from afar. Caracalla and Geta were announced in, and greeted with that same muddled roar of praise and disregard. You watched as Geta ate up the attention. You watched as Caracalla fought against it, spitting and arguing with some poor guard in the box. There was something so volatile in the air, as if one wrong move from either of the emperors would unleash havoc. The public was only one excitable realization away from realizing their joined forces could rip the royals from limb to limb. Geta was quick to shift focus to the games, demanding the publics energy be reserved for the battles that were begun, turning the spotlight away from himself. It was a tactical move, but you worried if he and his brother did not change the course of their political actions soon, no amount of pantomime could save them.

Another few swallows of wine helped ease your nerves, all the while. You'd forgotten how on edge the public had only just seemed. You'd been entranced by Geta's presence even from so many miles away. His distraction's had worked wonders on the crowd, his excitable reactions to the winners and losers kept the arena entertained for the better, for now. He kept you entertained all the while. When he would tear his gaze from the games every once and a while, you liked to imagine he was looking for wherever you might've been.

When you wandered off to find more wine, the guard that had been following you stayed back, glued to the battle that was happening. You returned with two cups, to share. The guard tried to deny your kindness but caved with a smile at your insistence to have at least one drink. It was a day of festivities after all. 

"We thought you weren't going to make it!" A voice familiar echoed over your ear. Turning from the view of the battle, you found your friends. You chuckled as you greeted the small brunette, buzzed enough off wine to shrug your nerves away. You couldn't exactly explain how you ended up here, to them. Or how you'd come to dress so finely. But they didn't pester you too much about it, drunk all the same. The girls swarmed you with giggles and hello's and how are you's. 

"Change your mind, have you?" The blonde teased, raising her brow at you. But your mind was too slow to understand why. 

"This is the gate the royals always leave from. Isn't it obvious?" The small brunette pointed, waving her hand to gesture around. When you glanced up, you noticed a particularly increasing population of young women that had begun to collect around the area. Geta always famously exited from this path, and always famously collected a girl or two to follow him back to the royal hall.

"Oh, no, I just sort of-" You stumbled over words, "ended up on this side." How were you to explain this all away? "I actually... should be going now that it's nearing an end. Get home before sun set." This reason sounded good enough in your head to speak aloud, as you began to walk backward, waving to your friends all the while. You spun on your heels, anxious to get away, making up your mind to head home should that be your only sound escape. But you'd barely walked a dozen paces before that guard was gliding close and halting your leave.

"You're not to go. I'm to see you united with her highness when she passes through that exit."

"Is- is that what she ordered?" You asked meekly, looking up to the roman soldier who loomed over you with his bulky build, yet kind eyes. The man did not speak, but lifted a hand to spin you around by the shoulder, placing a gentle palm there to guide you back where you came from. You saw your friends notice, perplexed gaze's settled on your march as you stepped closer to where they'd stayed waiting.

Caracalla was the first one to storm through the arched entrance, scowling at you on his storm toward his chariot. But then, a spectator, too drunk for his own good, began to slur insults to the emperor. The fellow had barely began cursing Caracalla's name, before the ruler stepped close to grab the man by his throat, strong enough to lift him to the tips of his dirty toes. The citizen struggled to breathe, squirming for relief. Caracalla shouted in the man's face, something about knowing better. The ruler let go, the citizen dropped to the floor in a rattled gasp. When Caracalla demanded the guards that followed him, to slaughter the citizen still choking for breath on the ground, you'd had enough.

"Do not do that. Have you such little mercy?" It wasn't to be helped, the way your body and mind worked together to force out a shout. You should have been more afraid of the way Caracalla turned to fix his fiery gaze on you. But rage at the senseless violence was all you could feel. Yet, the guards were already slashing their swords at the belly of the the citizen, so he might suffer still before passing. 

Caracalla stood considering you, longer than you expected. The crowds fell silent, the only noises were the hoarse cries from the dying man. And your heart hammering in place. 

Caracalla moved his look from you, to the guard steady at your side, and back to you. His head shook, and a scoff left his throat. He turned to leave, kicking the man he'd murdered on his exit. Your body shook with panic. Your stomach churned at the realization that you'd escaped yet another royal execution. 

The crowds parted to let Caracalla pass, steering clear of the angry little man. Your friends seemed to think of walking closer to where the guard had stalled you to wait. But their confounded and horrified expressions morphed into something more wonder filled, as their collective eye unfocused from your position. 

You were too busy assessing your friend's questioning gazes to see he'd appeared. But instead, you heard Geta's voice in your ear. 

"I'd say you're lucky he spared you. But I think there are more powerful forces than luck working on your side."  You heard him say. Your friend's gazes had no doubt been locked on the emperor, but soon fell more perplexed onto you, yet again. And then you realized everyone's eyes had shifted to you. The entire crowd that had watched you speak against the vindictive leader just ahead. The same crow that had pushed closer to wait for a scrap of attention from the man that spoke to only you, now, was casting a collective stupefied glare right at you. 

"I'd like to take you away now, but I'll have you wait on my mother. She hasn't stopped bringing up your name since this day has begun." Geta stayed speaking lowly, and you nodded to assure you understood, keeping your nervous gaze cast on the crowd that had fixated their attentions on you. "Do not worry though, tonight we can debrief in more ways than one." 

You had to turn and grin at him then, pleased to see he'd waited to share a smirk with you. He was off no sooner though, parting through the crowd with little acknowledgement their way. Your friends kept their slack jawed gazes set on you as you wondered for a beat about saying something to them. But then Julia was sweeping you away, resting her clutch at the bend of your arm like she'd done before.

They watched you leave, just as everyone had. You shot your friends a quick shrug and an expression you hoped they'd understand meant you'd catch them all up later, if ever you could dream up a good enough fib.

Unlike your journey here, Julia asked all about you on your trek back. You gave thoughtful answers, not daring to spare the truth of your meager life to the woman, but hoping the way you spoke of it would endear you to her somehow. It wasn't like you needed to be adored by Julia. But you did long to be respected in some basic human way, by the royal woman.

///

That evening went on strangely. Caracalla locked himself away in the furthest parts of the halls. No one dared speak about him in his absence. No one had dared to allude to his fury or righteousness at all. Instead, the tone of the evening was rather merry. You shared a meal with a mile long table of strangers, glad all the while to have been welcomed in the celebrations of the day. You gabbed with socialites and senators alike, until one by one they headed for home and bed. Try as you might to take your leave, Julia would not let you. She only kept dragging you from guest to guest to introduce. Until you were the last one standing. Until even Julia had made her exit from the room, Geta too. Leaving you to wait in the parlor until further command. 

A pair of guards stood unmoving near the doors, as you sat at the head of the dirty table. There were plates and glasses and saucers left awry, covered in crumbs for the kitchen maids to come and handle. There was a steady crackling fire on the opposite end of the room. There was wallpaper that didn't put your senses at ease the way the kind in Geta's room often had.

When the sound of the door opening stirred you from blank thoughts, you shifted to stand. Julia was easing into the room, smile and curls soft as ever. Eye's full of a certain kind of knowing. Behind her, Geta followed. His mother spoke your name, as if to grab your attention, as if she didn't already have it. 

"You're not to return home." The woman began, gliding to stall before you. Geta shouldered past her, moving to stand at your side and watching as his mother spoke. "I've noticed you come and go, as I mentioned." Julia went on. "And I've noticed how my son has been less fraught, during the time you've been around. I've heard you speak, and I've seen you command a presence in any room you enter."  

"What are you on about? What is this?" Geta demanded, that brooding gaze of his beginning to darken as understanding evaded him. 

"As good as she has been for you, son, I'm certain she'll benefit our empire just as well." Julia glanced to Geta before her gaze settled unmovably on yours. Your chest filled with the weight of a realization. Your mind buzzed with wonders of her implications. "You will marry in two days time. Enough to spread the news across the public, and plan something grand."

"Marry?" You breathed, feeling your heart hammer in your stomach. 

"You actually don't-" Geta began.

"I actually am watching this empire teeter on the edge of collapse." Julia interrupted Geta, causing his jaw to clench and his brow to darken further than before. "If we do not start moving more intentionally in the direction of change, you and your brother will ruin everything. If you marry this girl, you will marry someone from the very public you've been so often accused of dismissing. This girl is clearly capable of not only earning our family greater public favor. But she would be your bride, and you two together would have a better chance of making sense of this empire than your brother. Caracalla cannot be allowed to overpower your rule, Geta. Do you realize how close that idea is to becoming our reality?" Julia was insistent. "You do not have a choice. This has to happen. For all our fates." She was looking right at you again.

You were shaken, stunned, totally unprepared. Just days ago you were living such a carefree reality, all you knew were paints and pleasure by way of the emperor's hands. But now all of a sudden, all of Rome's fate depended on if you stayed standing here or made a break to sprint for the door.

"Get out." Geta pointed, coldly dismissing his mother. She began to argue back, pleading his name to listen. "Get out! I command it!" Geta was fuming, rage becoming his entire essence. You couldn't help but screw your eyes shut at the boom of his voice. You heard a guard approach to see the royal mother out of the door. She went without a fight, but insisted Geta had no choice, insisting she was already making plans to assure this fate for the both of you. As one guard saw her out of the room, the other followed, leaving you and Geta alone in the room with the ugly wallpaper.

The fire stayed crackling in the corner. The table stayed dirty. Geta began to pace, like he did, hands on his hips, head shaking in an effort to make sense of things. 

"You are quiet." He spoke up, softer than he had spoken all night.

"I am choiceless." You warbled. Hadn't this already happened to you? Hadn't you already been forced to wed a man for the betterment of some kind of future? You thought you'd already paid your dues. You thought freedom was supposed to be promised at some point. You thought you'd had it, just days ago. But even still you were captured by the powers that be. It wasn't like you were opposed to being Geta's bride. But you were rocked to realize it didn't matter what you wanted, in this life. It was just going to keep happening to you, against you, despite you.

You watched as Geta sped up his pace, thinking. His eyes danced as if to keep up with an invisible coming together idea. And then his moving stalled. He rolled his shoulders and let his eyes rake up your figure, like they so often did. Geta's brown stare bore into yours, as if to search for an answer to a question not yet asked.

"You claim to have been born to die." Geta gestured, sauntering closer. "I claim to have been born to rule. But we have failed to consider what there could be to live for. I have reason to believe my answer to living lies within you." His speech was imploring. He meant it. He only ever spoke with authority, by that you weren't surprised. But by his meaning, by the tenderness in it, you were. "As ruler, I shall make the final decision regarding my mother's demands. But... I shall also wait here in silence as you choose your fate. I will command no guard after you should you flee. This time, this wedding, you'll be allowed to choose."

"Should I flee, will there be fines? Will I forever be in your debt somehow?"

"I shall see to it that you owe nothing to this empire if you leave it. But you must leave it entirely, you must go far from here. It's the only way I could make these guarantees."

"Should I stay..."

Geta loomed closer, until his breath fanned across your face. So close you could see the golds speckled across the brown of his eyes. Close enough to kiss.

"I would see to your value." Geta breathed, stalling an inch before you. "Your profile on coins. Your voice heard above others. Your throne... My bed... I'd see to it."

Your heart hadn't stopped pounding since this conversation spun to life. But it beat harder yet, at Geta's tone and implication now.

"Take my hand." Geta held an open face palm before you. "Or turn away." You glanced to the door. 

You considered all that lie beyond it, the quiet, the vastness. The race to the finish line of life would be slow and steady outside these doors. Your freedom would be quiet and lonely. Then you turned to Geta and saw a different kind of future to consider. And then a thought dawned on you. What if the freedom you'd always been in search of, was not just yours alone? What if an entire empires fate had always been pressed into the back of your heart, clear in the front of your mind only now that you understood everything Julia had said. You thought of your latest painting. The one with the sheep and the sunset. You wondered if maybe it was a sunrise all along. 

Your hand flexed, knuckles deciding between clenching and raising up. Until suddenly your palm was in Getas. Until suddenly your fate, and all of Rome's, had been sealed.

///

Part 2 Coming Soon...

[sugar-grigri]

Pochita, if you can read, why don't you speak ?

Wouldn't it be humane to protect humanity and demonic to protect the underworld? And what if... it was actually the other way around.

The interweaving of questions and answers is exactly what this chapter does.

While Yoru sordidly states that children are nothing more than the property of their parents, the one who can't speak, instead of devouring a human as he did with all those demons, decides to go to the blood drive.

Pochita understood what the sign meant. He knows how to talk. But he'd rather hold up that sign and roar than make any demands.

Worse still, he does not decide to give any orders.

It's not words that symbolise order, it's that raised index finger that already in Roman times expressed command.

In the United States, arms are a constitutional right (as recently reiterated by the Supreme Court, which does not admit of any restrictions), a fundamental freedom but also a means of preserving one's freedom, allowing organised militias to fight and protect the State.

You can see how it's all a construction, the weapons are a technological creation, the State is an administrative and political creation.

And that's where things get interesting. First of all, this chapter is highly symbolic and has a very strong political message (oh my god, political interpretation in a manga, impossible..........)

Yoru has sliced off the index fingers of those who support the right to bear arms in the United States. Or campaign for that freedom. But what Yoru is doing. In fact, it's taking it away from them. How can I shoot without this index finger? You can't do it.

It's by taking weapons away from men that they actually regain their freedom.

But it goes even further than that. Why does Yoru sacrifice these fingers? Because it reinforces the fear of weapons. Let's say I point a gun at you (sorry). You'd be less scared if you were as armed as I am. Especially when you're trained, know how to defend yourself and aren't afraid to shoot.

Yoru makes those who thought they were invincible with weapons vulnerable. She strengthens the Gun Devil's power. She contracts with them through her sacrificed child.

Weapons,

freedom,

deprivation of childhood,

of loved ones,

obsession with a mentor,

To think that a god created them.

Remind you of anyone?

Infanticide is what makes you immortal.

The sacrificed demons become weapons, lost between humanity and the demons. Not being human, nor demon, because they have no parents. Even artificial weapons like Reze and Katana display these characteristics. Isn't loneliness one of the ingredients?

Humanity sacrifices its children. As Fujimoto confirmed, they were prepared to do it for eternal youth.

And now you're going to say to me. NOOOO! Yoru too! Just as Makima wouldn't hesitate to do. The demons are also ready to do it.

Yes, because they are influenced by men.

Yoru speaks, uniting with humanity to say horrible things. Whereas Pochita doesn't speak. Worse still, he has chosen not to speak. Worst of the worst, even worse. He'd rather be a dog than a human. That's his choice.

Pochita fights for those he loves, he doesn't sacrifice them.

The demon of birth, it swallows but can spit out. Suspending existence, giving it new life, denying none of it.

Wasn't Makima devoured by Denji proof of this?

Nayuta is the symbol of this rebirth. A perpetual love that surpasses hate.

Pochita loves demons. He also loves those who mean something to him, like Denji. But he also knows that when we become too human, we can end up sacrificing ourselves out of vanity rather than love.

Pochita has sacrificed himself for love, without expecting anything in return as he waits permanently for Denji's dreams.

He is also Denji's lock, preventing him from fully adapting to men.

That's why killing Black CSM was Denji's wish come true. Because Pochita is preventing Denji from becoming normal.

Because he wants to protect him from humanity. Pochita has never been for humanity.

He is simply the guardian of the underworld, all those demons whose existence he guards, a supreme mother. Humanity must endure in order to continue to be afraid. But if humanity is prepared to overcome the ultimate fear of losing its child, then fear is scorned.

So Pochita tried to wipe out the weapons' existence, to devour them. But they still existed. Why? Because they are already the result of infanticide.

being devoured by the demon of birth, mother of the underworld, actually reinforces their existence.

Being devoured by their mother is the reason for their nature.

Whereas weapons are beings born because their mother has killed them.

Denji is the result of the death of the Supreme Mother.

It's not a weapon.

He's a wall.

Hero of the underworld.

A hero of the underworld who has been fighting from the start for the victory of love, sacrificing himself for those he loves and not sacrificing them. So he asks for blood.

And I'm sorry. If weapons really are born like that, they have to look human, and I think this is the last possessed human.

Someone's been ringing the doorbell.....for 100 chapters… it's time to answer it, isn't it?

[rafeyswrd]

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS | PROLOGUE

benedict bridgerton x princess reader — slight anthony x reader. slight colin x reader.

series summary. the princess is in desperate need to sponsor a successful season in order for freedom to come her way. and benedict bridgerton would do anything to please her highness.

WC. 500+ | warnings. none.

A/N. so sorry for being so late :( uni is so so hectic. i’ll update every friday from now on it’s only fair!! if you have any thoughts, etc, i’d love to know! i do have some requests i’m writing rn, but i love seeing them either way. enjoy!! and remember english is my second language, please be easy with the critique 😞😞.

“It is beyond unfair how stuck in life I am despite all I own, mama.” The princess whined, her hands fiddling with the ruffle that lay beneath her waist on her dress, jaw clenched in disdain.

Queen Charlotte’s eyes rolled, a sense of annoyance creeping into her. “You do not speak to me as such, I am your Queen.”

“You are also my mother!”

Silence traced through the walls of the dining hall; Lady Danbury’s awkward coughing did nothing to lessen the tension floating between the pair. Y/N’s hands were balled into fists, and the corset entwined into her dress was suffocating her beyond means.

“All I ask for is a chance to prove myself mama,” her voice was shaky, and she was unsure if the softening of her mother’s eyes were a part of her wild imagination. “I am not glass, and if you give me a sense of freedom, I will show you so!”

It was a momentary silence that had her heartbeat escalating, the gulp emitting her throat embarrassingly loud.

“Well.” Y/N’s eyes widened, her mother’s voice stern, yet a gentle trace followed through. “You may do as you please, your nagging does no good for your voice, it is also quite infuriating.”

“Well?”

“Well, if you insist, I suppose a deal could be made.”

Lady Danbury’s brows raised, and Y/N stood up from her chair, chest heaving from her previous rant. “Which is?”

Her mother leaned back, blinking once, twice, before speaking gradually. “Sponsor the upcoming season. I need a diamond as the people expect, and a successful one at that. I cannot be deemed faulty.”

The princess shook her head in disbelief, pushing her chair back and walking closer to where her mother smugly sat. “That is, it? After years of begging, that is all I am required to do?”

“Yes,” The queen swatted her hands in the air, to where her daughter stood, “Do not make me change my mind.”

Y/N smiled, a large gleaming smile. She clapped her hands enthusiastically, a soft, un lady-like giggle escaping her in a moment of excitement. “You underestimate me, mama. You shall have a happily wed diamond by the end of the season- if not before.”

The hurried noise of her steps gradually fainted as Y/N ran out, parts of her dress bunched up between her fists. Her smile was blinding, biting her bottom lip so hard she was sure it was bruising. She could not wait to tell her maid, Lydia, of it all, completely ignoring the warning signs blaring through her head on how her mother’s acceptance has come with incredible ease. Unlike before.

Lady Danbury’s face contorted to one of confusion, staring at the queen with a hesitant expression. “Not to question your decisions, your majesty, but I cannot help but wonder why you have come to agree this time, in comparison to the others?”

Queen Charlotte’s smirk was very faintly, yet visible enough to raise concern, “Do you think of me a fool, Lady Danbury? You are to be following her every move in hopes that it does not go the way she anticipates. Her coming of age does not take away her title as my youngest child, she is far too immature to be put out there in a serious manner.”

“If my goal is to ensure that her part of the deal fails, then it is what I will do, your majesty.”

Truly, It was beyond tragic how quickly news spread, and it was only a moment of running peace before Benedict Bridgeton has come to know of the princess’ role in the upcoming season. No longer was he a man whose eyes rolled at the thought of marriage. But a man who spent his days with an erratic heart, and fantasises of her royal highness plaguing his train thoughts.

TAGLIST. @easybrainrot34 @jkshxua @pinkpantheris

[esoteriamaya]

Astrology Observations Pt.4

Long time no see everyone :) i have a few astro observations i wanna share so lets get to it

Lilith/Mars individuals carry an unspoken confidence that ignites a fire in the eyes of other people and can make others fall in love with them. Their self expression comes in through the form of bravery and letting the world see their raw truth unfiltered, not giving a damn about what others think. This makes for strong attraction and they have a hard time getting people off of them, and i mean this in two ways: one way being that others have 'feelings' for them 'down there' *wink wink* causing them to show a deep sexual attraction to them whether they are uncomfortable with it or not. their unconscious thoughts will be shown to the lilith mars person with seemingly lil to no effort. they wont know why they just know it feels good (or embarasing/harboring a lot of guilt) however these lilith babes are about exploring parts of ourselves that we mask and no judgement zones are a necessity when in their spaces. the other way is others will be triggered by them due to the octrasized lililith/mars person embracing their freedom and living their truth no matter what. all in all, both fall under secret (or not so secret) admiration.

Lilith/Pluto are the powerhouses of being who they are and when they want to be it. Literally octrasize by people all their lives and wen through lots of trauma. the way they express their power is through their traumas and taking back what was stolen. People have a hard time looking to them as real people because of their auras they possess. their sexuality/sensual energy is unmatched and is hard to tame. at some point they know when to let go and let this energy in them grow. if it makes people go crazy then so be it. naturally hypnotizing i cannot tell you how bad this cause you could definitely give away something to them and all they did was look you in the eye with a smile. Their natural aroma scares others but also perplexes them. its like damn are you a witch? maybe, maybe not. its just so much deeper than that. a personal message for them is being aware of yourself and the world around you is gift. People that dont know themselves will look up to you in the long run, you are the underdogs of your generations and you're healing a lot of wounds that most people will never face because they do not like what they see in the dark. You like your freedom and do not care what others think, you make your own rules because thats what we're meant to do. Be humans who create our own paths for ourselves and move to the beat of our own drum. Dont take what people say too close to the heart, youre mirroring back the shadows they hate in themselves.

Venus/Mercury has a gift of gab. Highly inspirational and their words connect you to the divine. The heart space opens up when they express their truth through the power of words, the use of their hands and the beauty of their minds. A rare placement since its only in conjunction and sextile. Not too many people have this one. Venus/Mercury babes channel from a source that connects them to the power of love, and when you speak you touch people and we fall in love with you all over again. If you have a voice please sing, speak, share with us your gift of light. Thats what you're called to do. If you are a writer share your stories with the world, your creative mind takes us back to the inner child. Enjoy it while its here!

Mars in Saggitarius. Go. GETTERS!!! When they want something they will not stop to get it. Their fire burns to achieve something bigger than themselves and with the right amount of optimism they will make it if they put the work in. One of the signs that mars works wonders in, because they can achieve their dreams quickly because of the excessive amount of fire in this house. Saggitarius only grows, never limits itself. The more they work hard the more good fortune comes their way. Others can get nervous around their because of their boastful confidence. Its too big.. its too wide. its too strong.. it wont fit or whatever beyonce said LMAOO thats yall. Very big egos and for a good reason. Yall get what you want when you want it. Nothing can stop them from getting what they need and mars sag babes wanting more in life is whats going to keep them moving.

Pisces Ascendant babes are the muses, the stars, the messengers, the oracle, the originators. These dreamers are capable of seeing the beyond even when the world doesnt see it yet. The world could doubt them but if they believe in themselves more they will prove to the world that all dreams are possible. Their reality is formed through subconscious thinking, so they must pay attention to what goes on in the inside of their minds because thats what controls their day to day reality the most. Shapeshifters who naturally move with the beat of the universe, their new look can be formed not just from an idea but because something new is changing in the world, and they are normally the first to get this information first. This is why some of them are trendsetters in fashion. Everything happens in spirit before it is physical, however for them the spirit and the psychical will always meet. And with their transformations it can sometimes be a message from the divine. Before anyone says its not that deep, i wanna tell you that anything with pisces is going to be that deep LMAO no other way to spin that. Their connected to the cosmos and their pineal glands connects them to other worlds we just havent tapped into yet. Its a gift. So a lot of times when they change, something in the environment changed too. All in all, pisces asc are good at picking up on other peoples energy. they can absorb others vibrations and anything around them and this can be a problem for them. Pisces asc will consistently have to connect to nature and cleanse more often than most because they can feel that sense of foggy-ness around them due to picking up on energy that is not their own. They will have to strengthen their discernment skills, level up with shields for the body and wearing certain garments/jewelery for protection because their auric fields naturally take in more than what they can handle.

5th House Plutonians are strong powerhouses in the form of creation. Their dark power is spilled out into the world of arts, giving them the nutrients they need in healing traumas or any dark thoughts thats been held in themselves for so long. Outlets that form a stage for these individuals makes for incredible perfomances that nobody will ever forget due to the way they make others feel. In this life time, they will learn to accept this power with grace because even if the way they feel performing for others makes them feel uncomfortable, someone is being triggered to feel those raw emotions that we hide in us. If they cant find an outlet for their creative expression, they will start to 'go crazy' and be more into psychotic behaviors that will make them lose touch of reality. This raw power that they have must be fed to others as we need to feel the deepness of our own bodies so that we can grow into the beings we are meant to be. Pluto in the 5th house can create an influencer who is just being themselves and the world around them is either inspired by or deeply maddens them. The gift of being yourself is their strongest attribute to society, and can be one of the ways for them to have power and establish some sort of wealth. If they never use this gift to soar into any artistic expression, the world would be missing a fine piece to the puzzle: Raw Truth. I hope this helps!

i hope yall enjoy!

[paisleypens]

Hello! I hope you’re having a wonderful day, i just have a request if that’s okay.

Could you maybe do Spencer Reid x fem!reader who is smart but doesn’t really get the chance to show the areas she’s smart in? I don’t know if that makes sense, but like in other words she’s insecure because everyone else is so smart and can figure out things so quickly, yet her brain works slower and it takes her a while to figure things out? So she just feels dumb around them? And one day she overhears (I know none of them would do this but it's for the purpose of the story) someone talking bad abour her and uses the word dumb?

And then sweet little Spence finds her crying? You can have fun with the ending, I want you to have some freedom with it!

Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope you have a wonderful day. And you don’t have to write this just a suggestion. (AND I LOVE YOUR SPENCER STORIES THEY’RE SO AMAZINGLY WRITTEN LOVE) 💗💗💗

I LOVE YOU STOP IT. this request is gorgeous and so real. i get really bad imposter syndrome so i hope yall find this as comforting as i did 🫶 i also haven’t been giving reid any love lately send some reid stuff my way!!

different strengths | spencer reid x f!reader

~~~

You sat at your desk, methodically typing out a report, trying to ignore the soft chatter of your colleagues in the bullpen. The rest of the BAU team always seemed to crack cases so effortlessly, piecing together intricate puzzles with the speed and precision of master craftsmen. You admired them, but the admiration often turned into a gnawing insecurity. Despite your intelligence, you struggled to keep up, your brain needing more time to process and connect the dots.

Your fingers paused over the keyboard as a murmur from the break room caught your attention. You couldn't help but eavesdrop when you heard your name.

"...she's nice, but she just doesn't get things like we do. It's like, I don't know, her brain works slower or something. Maybe she’s just dumb."

Your heart sank. The word "dumb" hit you like a punch to the gut. Fighting back tears, you slipped away from your desk and found refuge in one of the empty offices. The door clicked shut behind you, and the dam broke. You sank into a chair, sobbing quietly into your hands.

Spencer Reid, with his keen observational skills, had noticed you slipping away. He had always been drawn to you, your kindness, and your unique perspective, even if you didn't see it yourself. Worried, he followed you and after a moment gently knocked on the door.

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

You quickly wiped your tears and tried to compose yourself, but your voice wavered as you responded. "Yeah, I'm fine, Spencer. Just needed a moment."

He wasn't convinced. He opened the door and stepped inside, his face etched with concern. "I heard what they said. I'm so sorry, Y/N."

Fresh tears welled up in your eyes. "It's true, Spencer. I just... I can't keep up with everyone. I feel so stupid."

Spencer's heart ached at your words. He moved closer, his eyes soft with empathy. "Y/N, you are not stupid. Your intelligence is just as valuable as anyone else's here. You see things differently, and that's a strength, not a weakness."

You looked up at him, sniffling. "But I never get to show what I'm good at. Everyone's always ten steps ahead."

Spencer knelt down beside your chair, his gaze earnest. "That's not true. You contribute in ways you might not even realize. The way you connect with victims' families, your attention to detail, your intuition... those are things none of us can do as well as you can."

His words were a balm to your wounded heart, and you managed a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Spencer."

He smiled back, a warmth spreading through him at your expression. "How about we get out of here? It's the end of the day, and I know a great place for ice cream. My treat."

You chuckled softly, feeling lighter already. "I'd like that."

As you both walked out of the office together, the tension began to fade. You exchanged stories, laughed about cases, and for the first time in a while, you felt seen and valued.

Sitting in the ice cream parlor, the two of you shared a banana split, your shoulders brushing occasionally, sending sparks of electricity through both of you. Despite your insecurities, Spencer's presence made you feel safe and appreciated.

As you finished the last bite, Spencer looked at you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "You know, Y/N, I've always admired you. You're smart, kind, and incredibly strong. Anyone who can't see that doesn't know what they're talking about."

Your heart fluttered at his words, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Thank you, Spencer. That means a lot to me."

He reached out, gently squeezing your hand. "Anytime. And remember, you're not alone. We all have different strengths, and together, we make a great team."

You squeezed his hand back, feeling a surge of affection for the man sitting across from you who would never grab anyone else’s hand normally. "I think so too."

As you left the parlor, the evening sun casting a warm glow over everything, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things would be alright. And perhaps, you weren't the only one with feelings that had been hidden for far too long.