#she is so completely attracted to weak and failed men

[hestiasroom]

does anyone else's mom think they are "mean" for having boundaries? or is that just my mom?

[thebottomfromhell]

I was wondering if you could do some headcanons for the upper moons realizing they’ve fallen for a human! My preference is for a male reader, but you can leave gn, no problem. What do you think is most likely to happen to the human? To die? Get eaten?! Forced to become a demon? All in peace?!

Ok, I will try to stuck as close to canon as I can in this one, since I can sense the direction this is meant to take. I will say now, this post is a reminder of what an Uppermoon is.

I always make reader to be the one making the first move, to be lovable for the Uppermons for them to actually fall in love in a stable state or the ideal state they will be able to handdle this freaks. I will also try to make it a bit funny in what is possible.

Uppermoons reaction of falling in love with Human Male Reader

Warnings: Manga spoilers, Reader's death, Cannibalism, Yandere behavior, Mentioned torture, Non consented body modifications, Coerced body modification (becoming a demon), Implied non-con sexual content, Predatory animalistic behavior, Münchausen syndrome, Vore elements (it's not kinky, but some of theses guys do consume you), Implied child abuse, Every damn of this mf are their own warnings.

Gyutaro (ft Daki):

It takes Gyutaro a while for him to realize what exactly he feels, but the second he has the slightlest idea, he is afraid.

Not of being attracted to a man, of course, 'Is normal for men to lust after other men, ne. Just look at the actors and servants in the threater. Ne. Recently they hide it a lot more, for some reason." 💀

He doesn't like liking a human, of all things. It's scary, a weakness both demons and slayers alike might abuse.

That and the fact that he is very insecure, how could you love him back? He isn't even trying, what is you decide to abuse it too? That is the closest thing he knows he could get to being with you. He is not stupid, or clueless at least, he knows he can't say "no" to the ones he cares about. (Daki, himself and Daki. And now you.)

He starts a hot and could routine, going from avoiding you completely to yeatning and searching your company. He hates it, he starts to resent you for ir. Why must you have this amount of power over him.

He also protects you. Makes sure you are ok. He will most of the time be like a shadow, not getting close or risking you getting too far.

The dynamic becomes unhealthy, obssesive, Daki also starts to resent you for it. And it's visible, she insults you, destroys your things, and even tried to harm you several. Gyutaro is the one to protect you from her.

"I HATE YOU! YOU HAVE RUINED MY ONII-CHAN! HE DESERVES BETTER THAN A PATHETIC HUMAN!"

Unless you make a move on him or reject directly, you can expect this to last until one of you die. The thing is, while is hard not to notice what Gyutaro is doing, you can easily live and get away with this. You have the protection of Uppermoon 6 in exchange of your mere presence. He doesn't force more than that on you.

Gyokko:

Gyokko figures what he wants from you almost instantly, even before fully knowing how he feels exactly.

5 weeks, give or take. That's the most you can realistically get.

He doesn't care you are a man, of course not, if he wants you why would that matter? His taste, what he defines by beauty, is his own law. Men can be beautiful, and humans can be art.

Gyokko is going to be "nice" at first, he will show you his pots, bring you eyes, hands and skin from his victims, try to teach you the right path of art.

You are a man, men can learn art, erudites are artists. You can learn, as hopeless as it seems.

Anger him once- lose a foot in his mouthes. Then the same leg to the knee, then the thigh.... you only have so much to fail. And you will. Gyokko is meant to neither get bored or tired, because as a human you just can't understand the beauty of mutating a human body against it's will, painfully and messy into a new final product. Just a shadow of a the humanity left.

Now, once you have no legs, you have two choices. Die. Or beg. Beg for hin to let you understand, to make something sublime out you.... beg and he will.

You will be awake, he will carefully, almost lovingly, open your chest, take out your heart, maybe take a bite, and he will bleed into the wounds.

Become a demon for him, to him, all his.

Hantengu:

At the slightlest possibility of falling in love with you he cowers away.

Hantengu? Hantengu? Where did he go? What do you mean you haven't seen him in 3 months? >:v

He will come back, he will always come back and grab you. He will scratch you and sob, and sob and sob-

He has never been interested in men before, he had several wives in life, but not men. Men were always scary, strong and big, he was scary once too. He is scary now, but he still feels so scared. He touches your arms, shoulders, legs, all too masculine to be soft and comforting.

He will dissapear and come back to that routine, sometimes you wake up at night with him over you, crying.

Sometimes he is scared of you, sometimes he is scared for you. You can't talk or reason to him. You try, but you are a human. He doesn't have to listen to you. You are beloved, you are food, you are big, you are handsome, you are useless, you are mortal, you are nice, you are-

He can't deal with it. He genuinely tried. He tried and failed. He needs to get rid of you, you are too much. He is so sorry, he sobs, so sorry about this. Over you at night, you were sleeping the second he stabs you chest with a knife. Once, twice, thrice, and more, more, more. And he is so sorry-

S O R R Y

Sekido:

Run....

No, really, run. He realized after a while and he is NOT happy about them. "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME YOU PIECE OF SHIT?!"

You still have a chance to survive, but you must run. He must calm down and you need to get away from him before that. He will realize it's nobody's fault, but until then he will attack. Get Karaku, that is your best bet.

He doesn't care you are a man, but the fact a puny and frail human makes his hesrt beat faster, face heat up, and invade his mind to the point he is always coming for you.... he hates it, it irritates him. He is just so angry.

If you survived this part, probably with the help of the other clones, who would see it as a waste you dying right now (specially Karaku, he would do anything to annoy Sekido), he will talk to you.

"You will die. I want to spend more time with you, and that means you will die. I will get angry and kill you." He will, unless you turn into a demon, he has thought about it. That is your choice.

You might actually have a... stable relationship, if you accept. Sekido will hold you through all the process as he bleeds into a bite he himself did in your shoulder, taking a bite before forcing you to fade into something else.

He is not planning to let you go now that you are his.

Karaku:

He already knew he lusted you the first night, nothing new. You take that as a chance of survival, for YEARS [you are living a lot more as a human than anyone else].

He both takes you and let you take him, sometimes he is very insistent. "C'mon, don't bore me. Have fun with me or I might get rid of ya."

He also openly flirts with you, not csring for your gender, gets you gifts, kisses you, takes care of you. He makes sure to be worth the while. He is careful, you always feel pleasure with him, even when you don't want to.

"You are so handsome, so good for me~ yes, you are a very good boy. I want to be like this with you forever."

It takes him years, he realizes it's not normal lust, there is more. He wants more. He should have already getting bored of you, but he didn't. He never will.

For the first time he actually hurts you during sex, he bites your neck to the point you bleed, moaning against the taste, you get tired from the effort and blood loss. Everything gets numb, heavy, and you close your eyes as you are deep within him

You will open them without any memories, just a new, hungry and bloodthirsty body. And him offering himself to a new you.

Urogi:

Urogi doesn't want to hurt you, that is good.

Urogi wants to play with you and have your constant attention... that is not so good. Because he will hurt you.

He scratches, bites, pushes you around, forces you to run as he chases through the sky. How are you supposed to last in anything against him. But again, he doesn't want to hurt you, so he doesn't get angry of this.

He more often than not licks the blood and the wounds he caused, then cuddles into your lap. Smell your masculine scent from your scrotch when he uses your legs as a pillow and from your neck when he sits on them, he likes being over you.

But again, Urogi is meant to get bored of your limits while playing with you. You were actually already expecting it the night he decides to make a drastic move.

That night be hasically bit your wrist off, tasting your flesh, moaning as he enjoys the taste. You don't get to run away again, too tired and hurt, as he finishes the meal before forcing his own flesh in your mouth.

If you have trouble biting, the he will bite a part off and chew it for you before feeding you mouth to mouth, force both blood and tissue into your throat with his tongue.

You will become a demon you you can both play more.

Aizetsu:

"It's so sad, pitiful, that I'm attracted to you. A human of all things." ..... that was hurtful.

You made his heart beat slightly and gave him a knot on his throat. His honest thought was "WHY a human?" Something that he is meant to lose, no matter what. That is so sad.

He pities himself more than he pities you, but that doesn't stop him from keeping you around. He is gentle and soft, if it wasn't because of his nature it would almost be endearing. You talk, you walk together, sometimes he even holds you.

He doesn't mind that you are a man, but he can't take the thought of you leaving him. He makes sure to be pitiful around you, to manipulate you into letting him take advantage that you are weak in every sense. Soon, you are the one cuddling and comforting.

He kills you at the first problem to arise, Sekido using you to threat him into "becoming more useful". Better know than waiting to become even more attached, that will only make it sadder. He is so sad already, but he wants to evade being too miserable.

He will kiss your first, thank you for everything, let you have your last words and last wish. Then he will make it fast, painless.

He will kiss your corpse again before making himself a memorial for you. So sad.

Nakime:

DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT-

She is in love with a MAN? Like... a man?(PTSD of dead husband. She killed him.)

I'm sorry, you have at most an hour left to live, she is not dealing with so much. (Ok, let's be real, she might actually kill you, so just give her space.)

[Only one that actually reacts to your gender, like... why a man?]

She is as chill as she can be, so as long as you don't look at talk to her, look at her and evade her the best you can she will just let you be.

You being a man is an annoyance, even if that is the first though of you, it's easy to get over. You being a human... she is very loyal to Muzan (she doesn't count him as a man, he's god to demons, ofc), she would never put you over him.

She will actually talk the issue to you once she is ready, make the offer. Let you become a demon. She will transform you herself if you accept, if not then the will just throw you out her realm.

You will never hear a whisper of her again, she won't kill you herself, not waisting her time and effort in you. Her husband didn't deserve it, and she is seeing you like that too.

You should be able to live your own life as long as you don't ever cross any interdimentional door again. If you do...

Dead end.

Akaza:

Slow burn what slow burn? He falls fast and hard, too fast and hard for his own liking. So what if you are a man? He was never picky.

"BECOME A DEMON SO WE CAN BE TOGETHER FOR ETERNITY!!" Dude, chill! You both just met an hour ago! He is obssesed. Too obssesed.

Akaza will hurt you, will show you how weak you are, tease of how you could be more. He wants you, he wants you a lot, too much for his own good. It pains him.

He will bring you to the brink of death, while not really trying to kill you. Similar to a cat with a mouse. He will let you in the brink of death once and let you heal, sometimes even heal you himself (talk about Münchausen syndrome). He will do it again, and again, and again.

If you don't accept from all the torture, the now broken and useless limbs and bones, senses wrecked, constant pain in your body and a giant exhaustion after all the times he had his ways with you.

He even starts taking care of you, Akaza cleans the house since you can't even stand anymore, he cooks and learns your favorite recipes, he washes your clothes, takes you out to walks at night in his back, gets money (you don't know how and you are too scared to ask), he nurses you,

He won't turn you unless you consent to it, even if every day it looks less like a choice and more like the only way to get out. Sometime you wish he didn't make you have to choose.

If you never become a demon he will keep you like this until you die of... pain? Age? Exhaustion? Who knows? But you will die with the responsible of your state tending your wounds.

Douma:

Ok, listen, whatever you do, don't make any sudden movement, your situation is pretty delicate. There is still a chance of getting out alive NO, THAT'S A LIE, JUST PANIC AS MUCH AS YOU WANT, YOU'RE DEAD

Douma thinks he is feeling hunger around you as he craves and lust for you💀💀 he also thinks you're funny and dummy.. Like hell he can name whatever he is feeling but IT'S NOT SAFE

He wants you around, but he is always sure you will try to leave like Kotoha did. This has already happen once. Does he regrets his actions? Is he even able to regret besides sometimes wishing she was still around?

You are nothing like her. You are not even a "her", so he doesn't even understand why he compares you both so much. But he sees it. You will try to leave, no matter how nice, how kind, how generous, how serving he is with you. You will leave if he doesn't do something about it.

Transform you into a demon? So you could actually get the power you would need to run away? It would only take one Uppermoon meeting and you would be gone by the time he was back home. He is not dumb enough to think anyone would help him find you.

He eats you, taking his time with you. He will start hugging and kissing you, not caring if you want it or not. He will first bite you mouth so you can talk, can't ask for help if someone hears you scream (his followers would take his words over your, how would they take some non-intelligent screams over his voice then?)

Then he would rip your legs so you can't run, before eating him in front of you, praising the taste, kissing you to share it, commenting on hiw your skin and tissue feel in his mouth. After the legs, he waits for you to "calm down" (you are actually dying, losing blood) before finsihing without any rush.

He would keep talking to you even after your heart stopped beating. Be as gently as he can. Once he finishes, he will be satisfied. Not only his stomach is full, but you will be forever inside him. Lovely.

Kokushibou:

.... he barely realizes.

This is a married widow samurai, his priority is his sword to surpass his long dead brother

But he likes, he thinks you're handsome. Attractive. Not that he would ever try to put it into words. (Someone tell this guy that no, not EVERY man is attracted to other men but marries a woman they don't even like because of obligation. That some people are ACTUALLY attracted to their opposite gender and spouse.)

[His wife though he was gay once he heard Michikatsu left her and their children to follow another man. Like bitch, did he even explain they were brothers?]

But again, beside just looking at you, does he even care? Does he even have anything in his heart besides this desire, this craving, this greed for power? To be more powerful than his own little brother? To take the place he was promised as the warrior, the gentleman of the gentry, that he was so afraid Yoriichi would take away?

It's never about you, even when he is with you. He will stay with you in silence, sometimes watch you from the distance, but it's never about you.

It's about himself. It's always about himself. You are only a pleasure that, like those days he visited his little brother, so lonely and weird, a freak that barely reacted to anything in his cage, (are those his thoughts or just the resentment inside him? Is it even real or Muzan somehow made it worse?) will fade away, and he will hate those moments and you.

You are a human, you are meant to die. He likes you, so he will keep you around, but nothing else. Kokushibou loves you know, and he will hate you in 100 years more, once you are gone. Simple as that.

He will cry and hate you the second your corpse touches the ground. Like Yoriichi did.

[bushkit]

MiD LGBT HEADCANONS (cause why not)

(These headcanons mostly apply to my rewrite but I feel they fit in canon too. Any hate/homophobic comments will result in a block 🥰)

Ava: Biromantic Asexual, She/Her

Not really sure on this one, maybe cause I don't think about Ava very much, but I guess she gives off bi and ace vibes? Like she does make some saucy jokes despite being possibly ace, which I find kinda funny and relatable. I'm not sure though.

Asch: Straight Demiromantic/Sexual, He/Him

Being a prince, I'm sure Asch has been high on the market for nobility who are interested in marrying him. These girls do whatever they can to get his attention in hopes he’ll choose them. But despite their hardest, sweetest efforts, Asch is always unimpressed. He’s not an idiot. He’s absolutely aware of what these women are really after. If he died right in front of them they’d probably shrug and walk off, and then mourn over what they've lost…… their precious newfound status. Asch knows that’s all they really want, they don't want him for love, for a genuine lifelong relationship, when they look at him all they see is a prize. And boy is it an immediate turn off. Asch finds it very difficult to find a lover, he has high expectations, and it takes a lot of interaction for him to even develop a crush. Asch mostly just doesn't even bother. He finds his status and the people he's constantly surrounded with make his chances of finding love slim to none. He just focuses on his kingdom and nothing else. But even still, there's a part of him that longs for a genuine partner. He doesn't want to be completely alone forever.

Leif: Bisexual, He/They

Leif is the most bisexual person I have ever seen in my life. He’s very flirty, and is not afraid to show his impeccable rizz to both men and women. He usually comes off too strong and sends everyone running away, but they're trying their best! He’s overconfident in his abilities and usually fails, but he slays nonetheless. Slay the day you fruity king. As for pronouns, he's fine with any but feminine pronouns. Usually he goes by he, but he also really likes it when people refer to him as “they”. They pronouns make them feel deadlier, and he just finds it comfortable and more fitting to his personality and lifestyle.

Rhys: Aromantic Asexual, He/Him

Rhys has never felt actual attraction before, and in all honestly he isn't complaining about it. He's doing perfectly fine on his own, all he needs are his books and companionship. When it comes to love, Rhys is far more fascinated by the science of it. He loves to observe the behaviors between lovers, how unique each couple is, how relationships may change others over time. He’s okay with spending his life being helpful to his kingdom, and thinks romance will get in the way of that.

Noi: Pansexual, He/Him

Since childhood, Noi has always been absolutely charmed by the idea of love. He’s constantly dreaming of a happy life he could share with someone, no matter who it was. When it comes to potential romance, gender is out of the question for Noi, as long as they love each other he's happy. It’s difficult for him sadly, as someone who's considered weak by many partnered with societies view on love in general, it’s hard to find someone who truly wants to be in love like he does. But that doesn't stop him from being caring to others, and he will never give up hope that he will find a lover some day. (I LOVE YOU MY BABY NOI YOU WILL FIND LOVE)

Pierce: Gray (panromantic) Aromantic Asexual, He/Him

Pierce was a difficult one. He's so quiet and reserved most of the time that it leads me to think his romantic preference is something he keeps to himself. I don't think romance is very important to him at all, but I also don't think he's against romance as a whole. In a way he's kinda like Rhys, more fascinated by love, but though hesitantly, he’d actually be willing to give it a try. Being so laid back, I don't think Pierce really has a romantic preference, leading me to believe he's likely panromantic.

——————

So ya that's it ✨

[kiddotarot]

Thank you so much for the reading! I hope I wasn’t too late! I went blank as soon I went through your reading, I’m not sure of the reason though! But here is the feedback!

Emotions

Interestingly, you mention soulmate because I always tried to find wholeness in friendships. Well, that went bad haha but I think it correlates to your reading and taught me that I’m enough as I am and I don’t need someone to do things I can do myself. I initially did want my mother to create a beautiful environment for me but I’m very grateful for the environment she raised me in and for creating the person I am today. I do wish we cleared the misunderstandings and brought in a little more patience and empathy between us. This is SO true! I could never function without acceptance, but with recent introductions of rejections and failures, I’ve lost the emotional requirement for acceptance and administration.

Why are you here

This reminder was needed, thank you. I do feel responsible for incidents which logically speaking I wasn’t even involved in. Ah, I think I’m doing everything but that, I should make more efforts to connect to the divine and stop feeling and reacting to every occurrence.

Past life vibration

I don’t have a weak immunity now so I like to think it would be the former. Again intriguing because I was always attracted to the profession of healing and constantly asked to pursue it. Yes, I do neglect myself so I do need to nourish myself physically and mentally.

Communication issues

I’m not focusing on my spiritual side properly so I’m unable to accurately figure out a person but yes. People can’t fool me. Looking into their dark side, I do but I don’t use it against them. I don’t even let them know about it. I think as a result of my failed friendships, I found it necessary to analyse every person around me. But yes haha, I’ll stop it as soon as possible.

Love issues

Ah is this why I’m so repulsed by relationships? T_T But yes, I think I need no help in that department! I’m already on the way to completing myself.

Life path

My inner security is somewhat lacking so I’m glad you brought it to my notice. I do need to figure out what my inner resources are though. I’m also learning to detach myself from toxicity so the reminder popping up is also a good sign!

Past life Childhood

Self-image destroyed in childhood? This life, I did build it up but lost it again in my teenhood. I do need to fix that though.

Submitting to a powerful male… Is that the reason why I can’t stand men who try to ‘fix’ me? Past life trauma? Fortunately I have extremely good parents who wouldn’t let that happen so I think those problems do end in this life.

Mother karma

This explains why I’m so connected and protective of my mother in this life. I’ve experienced most of the lessons I’ve learned in life with my mother so I think that says something.

Healing

This. I did stop all my outlets to creativity because of certain events but I’ll start over again. Finding myself, I’m on the journey I hope.

Thank you so much again for your energy and time! I hope this review is satisfactory! If I’ve missed out on anything, please let me know!

I also have some questions I hope you don’t mind answering! If you don’t want to or can’t, please feel free to ignore it!

1) What did you mean by my parents not being there for me?

2) Are any curses or bad karma left over from my previous birth? (I would love to rectify them T_T)

3) Could this be my last birth since you mentioned practising detachment to become one with the divine?

First of all thank you so much for this long feedback its really going to help me to improve my practice. Now let get on question.

1. Every souls carried some wounds and bad experience related to childhood it also effect over current lifetime you can see a person and tell them they have a old soul which is more experienced like a child in a home is more mature and patience( mostly eldest child )than his parents and siblings then its and old soul our soul take birth to experience what missed and not complete desire it important to get let go and stay fullness in your heart and not to carry this experience in next birth.

2.Our karmas governed by saturan he is the real lord of our karma which we are going to experience in this lifetime and creating here your saturan sits in 10H and lord of 4H and 5H some parts its means karma related to family, property, childhood, romentic connection and work place your profession i think chiron( not sure ) is also there so your family can also a healing place for you .

3. Most of the people i read who are into spirituality and tarot , chart and other practice get it its the human life ultimate goal to do karma without any greed and get detached and build connection to Divine. You are lucky you are on right path .🫂

[fade-and-loathing-in-thedas]

do any of your other amells have romances? also what are the deets for akroma leaving cullen 👀

Hahaha omg you've unlocked the beast.

I'll start with the Akroma/Cullen break-up. She really only just began her romance with Cullen when she ended it. Alistair is King in her playthrough, so since she recruited the mages she encountered him at the end. It was awkward for everyone involved. Alistair kinda lingers in her mind afterwards. She pursues the relationship with Cullen with incredible speed and a level of fixation that was a clear indicator she was trying to avoid something else (specifically her residual feelings for Alistair). It's after encountering Avacyn, and hearing her story, she kinda has to reassess how well she knows him. Then throw in her cousins getting involved, Kaalia Hawke (the Champion) and Kalum Hawke (the warden contact) and their relationship with the former Templar. Then you have the moment she wakes up in Cullen's arms, after dreaming of Alistair, and thought it was Alistair she was with. After a deep and meaningful conversation with Leliana, she kinda realised she'd been using him as a place holder and that she might need to work on getting over Alistair before trying to have a new relationship (she is very much avoido girl when it comes to dealing with her own actual emotions, and not just urges, so progress). She tells Cullen she can't be with him, cue his brooding, and then she heads to the Western Approach to avoid any awkwardness (okay, so not that much progress lol). That's all I've got, except they eventually kinda become friends again (leaning towards over protective brother in law now lol)

I've actually seriously been thinking a lot about romances for the siblings, which is how I ended up here lol

For Roman I have been leaning heavily towards Dorian. Roman has a weakness for pretty men and especially pretty men with major smarts, confidence, bordering on arrogance, and can be drama. I've got some stuff to work out here. He's kinda already in a casual thing with someone in his mercenary group, but the guy's an Orlesian and a complete dick (which has kind of been Roman's type/dating history). It's gonna take him a while to realise everyone he dates doesn't have to be an asshole. He doesn't have to be dirt for others to shine ya know.

I have also been tossing around a Jowan romance for Roman, only because the squick factor for Akroma would be hilarious. And Jowan is totally the kinda drama Roman's attracted too.

I haven't decided if Avacyn is having a relationship, but I could see her with the Iron Bull. Especially given his strong feelings around consent, understanding of power dynamics, and ability to read people. I could see him being her friend. Helping her let out the rage, setting up dummies for her to set aflame, and getting her to socialize more. He's also very much not someone who would pursue someone without explicit interest, which she would appreciate. I also think he is the kind of person who understands sex, romance, and relationships aren't all synonymous. You can have any of these by themselves, or in conjunction with any number of others and it doesn't make them any less meaningful. Idk I think they could click. What that will look like is still swimming around in my head.

Remus is straight up crushing on Leliana. Her skill with both a blade and a bow, not to mention how she could/would murder a man in his sleep. Yeah, she's his kind of woman.

As you are already aware Arcadia is currently trying to seduce Cullen in my head lol and failing dismally.

Oh and for the Amell cousins: Kaalia Hawke romanced Isabela, and Kalum romanced Anders.

[princeofgod-2021]

LIGHT OF LIFE 495

John 1:4

DIVINE ORDER 60: Law Of The Tree Of Knowledge 8

Gen 2:16-17 But the LORD told him, "You may eat fruit from any tree in the garden, EXCEPT THE ONE THAT HAS THE POWER TO LET YOU KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN RIGHT AND WRONG. IF YOU EAT ANY FRUIT FROM THAT TREE, YOU WILL DIE BEFORE THE DAY IS OVER!" CEV

COMPLETE LAW 1

The Principal point by which the devil deceived Eve, was convincing her to believe that her Destiny was being Deprived.

She got to the point of accepting that she was “missing out” on something really grand. That made the Divine Law look like a diminishing implement.

Gen 3:4-5 The snake replied, "THAT'S NOT TRUE; YOU WILL NOT DIE. GOD SAID THAT BECAUSE HE KNOWS that when you eat it, YOU WILL BE LIKE GOD AND KNOW what is good and what is bad." GNB

It must [indeed] take a master conman to convince Man that the one “restraining” Law, which forms only about 1% of all Laws, is what makes his life incomplete if given regard.

But we can’t totally blame satan over man’s failure, and this is why…

Gen 3:6 WHEN THE WOMAN SAW that the tree produced fruit that was GOOD FOR FOOD, was ATTRACTIVE TO THE EYE, and was DESIRABLE FOR MAKING ONE WISE, she took some of its fruit and ate it. She also gave some of it TO HER HUSBAND WHO WAS WITH HER, and he ate it. NET

Before the Woman ate the Fruit, she took time to convince herself that she was about to take the right step.

Note that her own convictions (Good & Attractive food) came before the “deceiving point” (become like God).

So, did their disobedience make them complete?

Gen 3:7 THEN THEIR EYES WERE OPENED, AND THEY BOTH REALIZED THAT THEY WERE NAKED. They sewed fig leaves together and made clothes for themselves. GW

Beloved, it is actually WHEN you disobey God’s Laws that you FEEL incomplete. When you are living in contravention of Divine Rules, you always have a sense of nakedness & fear.

Gen 3:10 The man answered, "I was naked, and when I heard you walking through the garden, I WAS FRIGHTENED AND HID!" CEV

Sinners are always petrified whenever they sense or see evil around them, why?

Their lives are a confirmed portrait of enemies of, and rebellion before God.

Heb 10:26-27 For IF WE DO EVIL ON PURPOSE AFTER WE HAVE HAD THE KNOWLEDGE OF WHAT IS TRUE, there is no more offering for sins, But ONLY A GREAT FEAR OF BEING JUDGED, and of the FIRE OF WRATH which will be the DESTRUCTION OF THE HATERS OF GOD. BBE

Even when you keep all Laws except just one, you will feel uncomfortable and unfulfilled.

Mat 19:16,20 Now someone came up to him and said, “Teacher, what good thing must I do to gain eternal life?”…The young man said to him, “I have wholeheartedly obeyed all these laws. What do I still lack?” NET

The “one Law” you failed to keep could make you feel like you’ve kept none at all.

Jas 2:10 You might follow ALL of God's law. But if you fail to obey ONLY ONE command, you are GUILTY OF BREAKING ALL THE COMMANDS IN THAT LAW. ERV

Meanwhile, we all should know that in a broader context, the “Law of Moses” is imperfect.

Heb 7:18-19 For there is verily a DISANNULLING of the commandment going before fOR THE WEAKNESS AND UNPROFITABLENESS thereof. FOR THE LAW MADE NOTHING PERFECT, but the bringing in of a better hope did; BY THE WHICH WE DRAW NIGH UNTO GOD. KJV

This is the Context of LAW where men attempt to make themselves “clean” before God, through ORDINANCES of goat’s blood and and endless sacrifices.

Heb 10:3-4 As it is, however, THE SACRIFICES SERVE YEAR AFTER YEAR TO REMIND PEOPLE OF THEIR SINS. FOR THE BLOOD OF BULLS AND GOATS CAN NEVER TAKE AWAY SINS. GNB

The intent of LAW was to show MAN his weakness, and how much they needed God.

Gal 3:19 WHAT, THEN, IS THE PURPOSE OF THE LAWS GIVEN TO MOSES? THEY WERE ADDED TO IDENTIFY WHAT WRONGDOING IS. Moses' laws did this until the descendant to whom the promise was given came. It was put into effect through angels, using a mediator. GW

May we never be at the wrong end of the LAW, IN JESUS NAME.

Come back on Friday, as we proceed in digging into this inspiring Subtopic.

Brother Prince

Wednesday, April 10, 2024

08055125517; 08023904307

[silentart]

I have another idea of a romance story, hear me out

Once upon a time, there's a man who was known as the strongest and the braviest man among his kind. He's also the great leader, the wisest, and the dependable soldier to his boss.

Little did the people know, that the man never received any care treatment. He never had someone care for him. He never showed any care for his subordinates either. As he always looks so stoic, scary, quiet, and expressionless. He always focuses on the mission he receives from his boss and finishes it without fail. His men admire him But they're dependent on him and believe he can take care of anything with ease, he never needs help.

One day, the man got into a conflict of an arranged marriage. A rich guy trapped him to marry His "defective" Daughter in exchange for accepting his request for collaboration regarding his mission. His boss and subordinates agreed to the marriage offer as they had never seen him attracted to anyone.

The girl was an abused daughter of a nobleman. She was often locked in her room and got beat up every day so she could be a better woman. She was given less food so she won't get fat. Always considered as failure. Got punished bad every time she did something wrong. She's not a rebel, but she's lack of woman skills, according to her father. So her marriage with that man means she's finally thrown away from her father's house.

The man had no choice. He accepted his wife and let her live with him. He never gave her any attention. Never even spoke to her either. Besides letting her do what she wants, he never cared what happened to her. It's the best treatment she ever had, better than being used as a punching bag all her life. She wanted to give something in return, by caring for him.

She cooks his meals, prepares his clothes, cleans the house, and does all the things a housewife does. However, her husband never noticed her at all. That thing goes on for 3 years of their marriage. The man is so used to the activity that he thinks it's normal. His wife still does the act of a housewife as thanks.

Until one day, the wife knows her husband will make bad decisions with his job. She tried to stop it by failing his mission to keep him safe. But all she got was a scold from her husband. Saying that she's interfering with his work. She explained her reason but her husband thought she looked down on him. He thinks that she's taking pity on him and thinks that he's weak even though she only cares for him.

He ignored her warning not to take the mission. Until the last day before he had to go to complete the mission. She banned him from his task. She told his boss that her husband was not available for the mission. The man got mad at his wife for making decisions on her own. He used violence at her by slapping her face until she fell and bled her nose. He Threatened her for causing this again and left. Giving her trauma that she had already forgotten.

Later, it turned out that her prediction was right. It is a bad decision to go on with the mission. The man came back almost dead, along with half of his men. He got home unconscious carried by his men and made his wife shocked by his condition. She took care of him until he got better. The man woke up and chose not to talk to his wife regarding his mistakes. But she had no problem and continued to nurse him. That's where he's confused and asked her.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Huh?"

"Despite what i did, why do you still like this?"

"Because I care about you"

That's where the man realizes what is like having someone who cares for him. Not taking advantage of him, not waiting for a reward, just caring for him for no exact reason. Even when she told him her reason that she was grateful for his kindness, he was still confused about what kind of kindness treating people like a void?

In the end, after the man got better. He observed his wife's personality, her interests, and everything about her that led him to fall in love with her.

The man who is always expressionless and never feels anything suddenly feels a ton of emotion after seeing his wife

[very-grownup]

Conventions of Fantasy Monarchs, Queens, and the Subversion Thereof

I think a lot about Megan Whalen Turner’s use of monarchy in her novels and how that compares to royalty as presented in children’s fantasy fiction (as well as adult fantasy fiction, although I think there has been a strong turn away from rulers as absolute moral arbiters in the past twenty-five years, maybe, in favour of portrayals that are not necessarily more nuanced or realistic but are certainly more corrupt and far from divine) and Turner as a feminist writer and how these two aspects of her writing are interlinked. The nature of her approach to her Queen’s Thief series, however, requires a finer focus to begin from the wide view. While other authors world build with brick and mortar, Turner’s books create their world through origami. Each book is a separate piece and is folded into the next.

In "The Thief", Turner starts by establishing the three kingdoms of the Little Peninsula: Sounis, Eddis, Attolia. King, Queen, Queen. Although “The Thief” is wholly Gen’s story, the King of Sounis appearing briefly at the beginning, the Queens of Attolia and Eddis appearing at the end, they are established as the powers that be, the decision makers, the three figures trying to maintain their country and their identity in balance with the martial and economic pressures from all out sides. We know little about any of the monarchs, beyond that Sounis is older and Eddis and Attolia are both young. That the young women are queens, not princesses, is immediately a quiet triumph, an eyeshiver of subverting the unquestioned status quo (you think now, as an adult, of all the uninterrogated eternal princesses in your media, the young women without fathers or with fathers specifically deceased, and the refusal to permit their ascension to an adult title).

Indeed, in “The Thief” it is impossible to envision them as princesses for they are not given names. This is not an oversight on Turner’s part, not a diminishment of their personhood or, at least, not a diminishment of personhood that is not considered part of the parcel of governance. The three monarchs are frequently referred to simply by the name of their country, even dispensing with King/Queen of [Country]. Of course this implies a degree of the individual as their country, their country as the embodiment of the individual, the placing of country before self which, in and of itself, calls on the typical mythos found coupled with a hereditary monarchy. But it also shapes the reader’s understanding of the dynamic between the three monarchs as equal. Queens instead of princesses is adult and the further step of country in lieu of title degenders them, allowing the reader to move beyond their expectations for these titles, these roles, based on previously consumed media or even an awareness of those monarchies which continue today.

It is easy to overlook these socially conditioned expectations; the woman who is a doctor but regularly addresses as “Ms.” without second thought versus the rudeness of anyone forgetting to address a man by his professional credentials. Turner lifts the reader away from expectations they may have for such archetypes as ‘king’ and ‘queen’ without any fanfare given for what she is doing.

Moving beyond the scope of the three monarchs, into the matter of Eddis and Attolia, the only female characters in "The Thief". When the women appear, Turner sets up a familiar feminine binary between the two queens. Eddis is ugly but kind. Attolia is beautiful but cruel. Subsequent books prevent this from being a reductive portrayal of women without invalidating the initial descriptors. Eddis is never described as particularly attractive, but in certain eyes she is beautiful, without it ever seeming like a case of a perceptive/quality man perceiving a non-traditional beauty. Her kindness is tempered, prevented from being a weakness as she makes hard, sometimes ruthless decisions in “The Queen of Attolia” and those decisions are not motivated by possessing greater kindness than Attolia. Instead, she is equal to Attolia in her fierce love and protection of her country and its people. Attolia, the supremely beautiful woman who is cruel, is not the beautiful but evil queen not because she is not truly cruel, but because her cruelness is an expression of her ruthlessness. It is not petty, this is not a governmental expression of a Madonna-Whore dichotomy. It is two women who are physically very different operating in very similar roles with identical goals.

The physical difference is not significant; it is fact.

The important difference, the real dichotomy, is not a question of which of these women is good and which is evil, which woman is ugly and which is beautiful, which woman is pure and which is corrupt. It is, in fact, not a reflection of the women at all, but a reflection of the society and men around them.

More than the other books, the complete understanding of how Turner has taken superficial expectations of kings and queens and the portrayal of two women who, by existing in the same text will always in some way be positioned against each other, is achieved in “The King of Attolia”. Not, as might initially be thought in “The Queen of Attolia” in which the Wicked Queen is given the history and explanation that Explains her; for once we understand why she is wicked, will her actions not seem more understandable and forgivable? Turner in fact says no, Attolia’s cruel acts remain cruel; the nightmare consequences of one particular action continue throughout the series in the form of literal nightmares. “The Queen of Attolia” also gives Attolia a stand-in for someone who appears to be filling the role the evil advisor who leads a good woman astray for his own power and gain in the form of Nahuseresh.

“The King of Attolia” has a protagonist who is not of the nobility and from his perspective the reader gains a deeper understanding for how Attolia the country has been affected by Attolia the queen, the disruption of tradition rippling out to a disruption in the land and its greater politics. Initially, Attolia is a queen governing without a king, contrary to tradition. As a result, Attolia is surrounded by men wishing to control the country through her, their own schemes kept at bay by Attolia making ruthless example of a few individuals and setting the survivors against each other, focusing their attentions on the immediate threat of their peers rather than the abstract threat of not having direct control of Attolia yet. There is a sense given that the history of Attolia’s reign has been a steady escalation of ruthlessness as the scheming and the impatience of her barons persists and under the distraction of infighting, spies, beheading, and torture she secures alternate sources of power which strengthens the tie of loyalty binding the lower classes to her by instituting policies of a non-traditional nature like: meritocracy in the military, terms of indentured servitude having finite limits, and financial compensation for people working for the crown.

Attolia’s political actions, once the reader comes to understand them, are actions which elevate the powerless in her country and in doing so it enables to cement her own power: the power of one who, traditionally, would also be powerless. That we only become aware of this, truly appreciating the impact of Attolia as queen, instead of just the difficulties and hardships personally suffered, from the point of view of an insignificant young soldier and guard, who both fears and is loyal to the queen, imbues this interpretation of Attolia as one of greater truth than what is shown in the previous books. The narrator of “The King of Attolia”, Costis has a simpler view of the matter, a man on the ground view. He has no experience of living under the rule of anyone but this queen. He is not affected by the wider inter-country politics, his position is one formed by experiencing Attolia’s rule. It does not read as propaganda or apologia for the actions of this woman which are influenced by our ancient history and the politics therein.

Turner’s series has now come to an end and the number of main female characters never expanded beyond Eddis and Attolia but, in a genre that frequently fails women, even now, Eddis and Attolia are nuanced characters, powerful characters stretching the expectations of their archetypes and growing beyond them. The way Turner constructs her novels builds slowly and subtly into works that are feminist, despite the predominance of male characters, and strong with class solidarity and an anti-monarchial bent, despite the majority of the protagonists and point of view characters being members of the nobility. The genre and demographic do not need to steer the politics and ideas of a narrative and, in turn, those aspects cannot be accurately represented by simple numbers and Megan Whalen Turner demonstrates this often overlooked truth with each of her books.

[i-cant-sing]

Ooh, you write for Greek Mythology? Perhaps Zeus kidnapping a male reader, and basically not listening to them at all. Zeus getting more and more annoyed that the reader fails to care about all the opulence, grandeur, and power Zeus has. The reader just trying to escape and struggle. Zeus deciding to teach them a lesson to respect the king of the gods?

Yandere Zeus x male reader

I was so tempted to just write a scene where Zeus just goes boop! And turns the reader into a cow 😂😂😂😂😂 Anyways, thanks for requesting! Greek Mythology is also one of weaknesses, especially Hades, Persephone, Ares, and Hephaesteus💖💖💖

Enjoy!

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

TW: gore

Yandere Zeus:

It didn't work.

Nothing works.

You laid in a fetal position on the wooden floor of your apartment; crying. Crying because of the pain.

The pain of emptying the bottle of acid into your eyes? Partly the reason.

The pain of realisation that you've lost? Mostly.

I should've just stayed there. You cried. Should've just stayed with him and let him have his way.

It would've been far less traumatising than this anyways. This, this curse that he had given you all because you didn't want to sleep with him.

Who would've thought that Zeus, the Greek God, would have become obsessed with a mere mortal like you? And then who would have even imagined that he would kidnap you and take you to Olympus; where he would confess his love for you?

You certainly didn't. You thought that maybe you were just off your meds or that this was just a really weird dream. But the reality of the situation dawned on you the longer you stayed there; the longer Zeus made his advances on you.

You didn't get why he was so infatuated with you. Or so tolerant either. You've heard all the stories about him kidnapping others and forcing himself on them, but he never once forced himself on you. He could have, but he didn't. Instead, he kept on trying to gain your affection like one would do in a normal relationship. 

His palace was the main attraction of Olympus. Golden gates and marble floors and huge pillars showed the grandeur of the palace. Wine so sweet that you couldnt get enough of, yet you didnt get drunk and food so delectable, you could devour the entire table. How you wished you could stay here forever and enjoy these treats, but you knew nothing comes for free. 

Zeus tried to impress you with his powers, his wealth, and everything he could give you if only you accept to be with him for eternity. He had even given you the gift of immortality, which you tried to return but couldn't.

He was being beyond generous and patient with you. But you couldn't help but feel he had a sinister ulterior motive behind those charming grey eyes.

When showing off wasn't working, he started getting physical. Brushing his hands on your body, hugging you a bit too long for it to be comfortable, even forcing you into his lap.

Of course, you struggled. Who wouldn't? A powerful god comes and whisks you away to another dimension, then proclaims his love for you and offers you all the luxurious amenities one could only dream of, only asking for your love in return? When he could easily overpower you? Yeah, something doesn't sit right.

And its not just that reason alone that you kept resisting him, you know. You've heard of his wife and sister, Hera. You've heard all the stories of how she would treat her husband's mistresses and men.

You feared her, because if anything, the Olympian Gods were famous for their cruel punishments.

You really should've remembered that when you finally flipped out on Zeus, screaming how you don't need him, don't care about him, don't and won't ever love him.

That was the first time you saw him get angry, but it was gone just as soon as it came.

He collected himself and sighed. You thought you had finally gotten through to him but instead of letting you go or even strike you with thunder for such disrespect, he did something else. “You really want to return so bad? Alright, who am I to deny my love?”

He made a bet with you. "If you can survive in your world without me for... 2 months? No, that'll be too harsh on you; 1 month, I'll let you go and never pursue you ever again. And if i win, you'll do everything I say." He smirked. "What do you say? Sounds fair?"he asked you, his eyes hinting nothing mischievous.

You knew better. You knew he was playing some really heinous game with you, where all the rules are in his favour and the odds were stacked against you. But you were desperate for escape. Plus, it was only a month right? You could do it.

But you couldn't.

Zeus had given you a parting "gift". Which you had to accept in order to leave. You didn't know what exactly it was until you returned home.

You were surprised to see everything was normal. You thought that maybe you would be kicked out of your apartment, bankrupted yourself or someone was going to kill you.

No. Nothing bad was happening to you. It was happening to everyone around you and they didn't even know it.

As it turns out, Zeus had cursed gifted you with the ability to see how someone was going to die when you looked at them. And you could warn them all about it, but no one would believe you. You couldn't prevent their deaths. And somehow, everyone around you had horrible, gruesome deaths.

You had those pictures forever embedded in your mind.

You'll never forget how your tailor friend had her hair loose and they got stuck in the sewing machine, and ripped her entire scalp off, tearing away all the nerves and blood vessels.

Or how a guy from work accidentally slipped on to the rail tracks, and was run over by the incoming train; his skin and guts stuck to the tracks. They had to pour chemicals to dissolve his remains.

Or how your pot dealer owed some people, and wasn't able to pay them so they put him through a mince machine, but the machine kept getting stuck so they chopped his already mutilated body and then threw him back into the machine, piece by piece.

It was too much.

You decided to not look at all. You wrapped your eyes in a tight bandage around your head, but all thanks to him, you could see right through them.

When that plan failed, you decided to stay at home and avoid contact with people completely. But then, you could see the deaths of people on your TV, on your phone, even of people in your dreams. And the deaths were getting more gorey and disturbing.

So, you decided to pour acid into your eyes. It was painful. And for a second, it was worth it because you couldn't see.

But they regenerated back. Because he had made you immortal. Your eyes healed back with the perfect 20/20 vision.

And thats how you were in this position right now. Crying to yourself as you finally admit to that you've lost.

"Zeus."you finally whispered, not even entirely sure you did. But that was confirmed when you felt a slight breeze behind you, causing you to cry harder.

"Shhh, darling. Its okay. I'm here now."Zeus said to you in a calming voice, as he pulled you to his chest.

"P-please make it stop. I- I'm sorry! Just make it stop please, I beg you."you cried into his chest.

He ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "Did you learn lesson, love?"he asked in a quiet tone.

You pulled your head out of his chest and nodded vigorously. "yes! Yes. I've learned it. You were right. I was wrong. I- I lost the bet. Just please make it stop-"you sobbed.

Zeus caressed your cheek, looking deep into your eyes. "Alright. Let’s go back home, okay? I've missed you a lot. 2 weeks apart was far too long for me, love."

When you both returned to Olympus, you were met with a woman. As you looked at her in the arms of Zeus, you didn’t have to ask to know the Queen of Olympus was waiting for her husband and you. 

She smiled at you.

“Welcome back, darling.”

Hope you guys liked this! Thanks for being so patient!💞💞

[divinerulerluvr]

Let Me Violate You

Summary - in 1985 after taking some funny coke at a recording studio, she finds herself at the Cortez and meets Mr. James Patrick March only to meet her fate, as well

Warnings - smut (duh), bondage, coercion, murder, bondage, drugs, power kink, james is a dom per ush, idk its very dark dare i say

Words - 2.7k

Inspired by the song Closer by Nine Inch Nails ;)

- - -

The world was blurry as i stumbled into a random hotel in Downtown LA. I had been recording a new song at the studio just a few minutes away and the idiots i work with gave me some fucked up coke and now here i am, barely lucid and tripping out of my mind.

Leaning against the receptionist counter for support, i look up to the woman who reads a book. She peers at me over it, a certain look of disappointment in her eyes as she sets it down. “I-I would like a room,” i ask, blinking quickly.

“Fifteen dollars for the night,” she says flatly. I give her a twenty, too high to care about change. She smiles at me before standing up and grabbing a key from the wall and handing it to me. The key had a ‘64’ chain on it.

“Room sixty-four. Sixth floor,”

I nod before stumbling to the elevator, getting to the sixth floor, and walking through the halls until i got to room 64. Unlocking the door, i push it open and walk into the large suite. Going straight to the bed, i lay back on it with an exasperated sigh.

I am too high for this.

Staring at the ceiling that looks like it was twirling and twisting, i feel eyes on me. Sitting up, my eyes glance around the room. My eyes land on a man who stands at the end of the bed, a cigarette in his hand.

I jump, trying to confirm whether he was real or not with the state i was in. “W-Who are you?” i stutter nervously, my eyes wide with fear. The man smiles, drawing at his cigarette to build some sort of anticipation.

“I should be asking who are you? This is my suite,” he says in return, his voice coated with a thick 20’s accent. He was an attractive man. His dark hair was styled perfectly and in the dark of the room i could make out his sharp jawline and piercing eyes.

“I paid for this room,” i argue, confused to who this strange man is.

He grins a predatory and evil grin that made my stomach twist. “Would you like a drink?” he offers, ignoring the previous conflict. “I’d like you to get out of my room,” i bite back. He turns his back to me, pouring something into a glass.

Turning back to face me, he extends a glass of the drink to me. “No need to be so rude, darling,” he advises, his head tilted patronizingly. He takes a slow step towards me, his eyes dead on mine. Swallowing thickly, i accept the drink.

Suspiciously, i drink from the glass. The alcohol burned down my throat and the drugs already in me didn’t help. Finding it wasn’t poisoned, i chugged the rest of it down.

He sips from his own glass, his eyes never leaving mine. “Who are you?” i ask yet again. “James March,” he replies simply. I just nod, finding that i had this strange fuzzy feeling in my mouth.

I had already finished the drink he’d offered and it was too late to go back. I had jinxed the fact that it was drugged. Because i know what being drugged feels like.

Before i could do anything, i was out like a fucking light.

-

I woke up after god knows how long. I felt rope rubbing my wrists raw and rope that kept my feet tied to the bed. Panic fills me as i look around the room frantically. It was that James guy who fucking drugged me and fuck knows what he’s going to do to me.

I breathe out quietly, trying to calm myself as i pull at the ropes that keep my arms tied apart to either post of the bedframe. I was in a starfish position, rendering me completely helpless.

“You really should never take a drink from a stranger, my sweet Y/n,” i hear James’ voice say from beside me, startling me at his sudden appearance. “Fuck off. Let me go,” i complain, glaring up at him.

He chuckles, reaching his hand down and petting my hair. I recoil from his touch, my heart beating quicker than if i was on acid. He notices my reaction to his touch, a look of anger crossing his face right before he slaps me.

Not a playful smack, either. A real smack. It stung my cheek, a groan leaving my lips. He exhales sharply, his ominously black eyes glaring at me with disgust. “I think you forget who’s the one tied up and the one who did the tying,” he says, walking away from me.

I still fight against the ropes, my wrists burning like hell. I was lucky i was still clothed. But with this man, i wasn’t sure what he wanted from me.

“Why are you doing this?” i ask him, watching as he takes off his belt. My heart jumps, my thighs instinctually trying to push together but failing due to my position. He glances up at me as he starts unbuttoning his shirt.

“You were just so beautiful, dear. I had to have you for myself,” he says with a charismatic smile. His white button-down sits loosely on his shoulders, exposing his toned chest and abs to me. “That’s fucking creepy,” i scoff, watching his every move with precision.

He shrugs. “I think it’s romantic. When i’m done, you’ll never leave the confines of this hotel again,” he counters.

“Yeah right,” i mumble to myself, moving around on the bed still trying to free myself from the bonds keeping me at his mercy. He glares at me. “You have a horrible habit of talking back,” he points out, running his hand up my bare leg and playing with the hem of my skirt.

I swallow thickly, a dull heartbeat growing between my legs as his soft touch trails further up my leg and under my skirt. His hand cold but his touch was warm. Bunching up my skirt, his eyes fall onto my black panties.

“Maybe i should do something about it, hm?”

Keeping quiet, my cheeks burn in embarrassment as his eyes rake over my bare legs. He walks away from me, retrieving something from a drawer and coming back to me with it in hand. He presents a ball gag and i feel my breathing pick up.

Placing the pink plastic ball of the gag in my mouth, James buckles the strap around my head and i could feel myself lose every last ounce of power i had.

He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a hand knife and placing it to the waistband of my skirt. In one fluid motion, he cuts it into two pieces and tears it off of me. He does the same to the top i wore, shredding it and discarding it carelessly.

His eyes fall on my now bare chest. I never wore bras. Softly, he runs his fingers over my breasts, enjoying how my skin breaks out into goosebumps at his feather-light touch. He runs his hand down my stomach, feeling how i pant with anticipation.

Cutting off my panties, i was completely exposed to him. He sees how wet i am, a proud smirk spreading on his lips. “I’ve barely even touched your pretty body yet, doll. And yet look at this,” he taunts, running his finger through my slick folds.

I whimper, my hips bucking back at the sensation of his touching me. He uses his free hand to hold down my hips, keeping me flat on the bed. “I thought you didn’t want this,” he teases, his eyes admiring my naked body.

Unable to speak, i just furrow my brows pathetically. He smiles, enjoying how mindless i look. He rubs slow and teasing circles over my clit, his touch gentle as he stimulates me.

Weak moans leave my lips but are ultimately silenced by the gag in my mouth. My legs tremble slightly as i occasionally jolt with pleasure. He was giving me the bare minimum but it felt so fucking good.

Spit falls from the corner of my mouth, my eyes watering with the pain of him only touching me lightly. I could see the bulge in his pants and i knew i was in for quite the night. Men like him didn’t like vanilla sex. I would know. I’m in a goddamn rock band and it’s the eighties.

His hand leaves between my legs and instead uses his already wet fingers to wipe the spit that had left my mouth. His dark eyes meet mine as he returns his hand to my pussy, this time pushing his middle finger into me.

I arch my back, my head pressed into the pillow i lay on as i feel his finger curl inside of me. Not caring, he pushes a second finger into me and starts an even rhythm of finger fucking me

My whimpers sound pathetic and tears fill my eyes. I beg internally for more pleasure. But i was unable to actually ask for it which i knew was his entire point. I was wetter than i’ve ever been before. His fingers were like heaven inside of me.

His palm every once in a while grazes my clit, making my body shudder from the brief stimulation. “Look at you. How pitiful you are,” he degrades, his eyes taking in the way my eyes water and how a squirm on the bed.

“Little girls like you need to be taught a lesson,” he clicks his tongue, his fingers slowing down from their rhythm before he pulls them out. I groan at the loss, my eyes locked on his. “They need to be put to good use, for once,”

I watch with doe eyes as he throws off his shirt and takes off his pants. He gets on top of me, staring at me like i was prey and he was a starving predator. “You look positively beautiful tied to my bed," he compliments, caressing my hot cheek.

“To be fair, it is also very beautiful to watch you squirm with pleasure, my pet,” he says with a grin, repositioning so he was kneeling between my legs. He runs his hand up my stomach, reaching my breasts and massaging them. Giving special attention to my sensitive nipples.

His clothed boner rubs against my sensitive pussy, making me want him even more. My hands pull against their restraints, causing the red marks on my wrist to hurt more. He sees this, noticing how raw my skin was. “You know better than that,” he tsks, trailing his hand down my body and running it along my leg.

I didn’t know how to convey to him that i wanted him to absolutely destroy me, so instead, i just push myself against him, grinding my hips against his clothed dick.

He smirks, pushing my hips flat against the bed to stop me. “Patience, my pet,” he warns, feeling every inch of my naked body with a tender and almost caring touch. My eyes fall shut in irritation, trying to just enjoy his teasing touches that continue to lead me on.

His hand runs up my thigh, following the curve of my body and stopping at my neck where he lightly wraps his hand around it. I whimper, knowing full well he could feel my pulse against his hand.

“Do you think you’ve earned the privilege of pleasure?” he questions, his eyes dark with lust. I nod rapidly, my pussy practically hurting due to the lack of stimulation. He smiles, tightening his grip on my neck so he’s squeezing the sides.

His hand leaves my neck and i watch as he pulls off his boxers. Getting excited, i let him pull me down to meet him, the ropes pulled tautly and rubbing on my ligature marks even more. The sting was damn near unbearable but the pain would soon be forgiven.

Without mercy, he pushes himself into me. I cry out, my pitiful cries muted by the gag. It hurt. Of course it did. I may have been wet, but his dick was too big to just pull that shit. My nails dig into my palms as he bottoms out in me, his tip pressed into my g-spot deliciously.

The tears in my eyes fall down my cheeks, causing black streaks to trace down my face in the trail of the tears. I pull my hips back a little, his dick hitting unmarked territory inside me. He places his hands on my hips, pulling them down even closer to him as a way to punish me.

The ropes were now extremely painful. He pulls his hips back and starts fucking me rough without warning and especially without care. The pain quickly blossomed into pleasure. His hands dig into the flesh of my hips as he holds me steady so he can use and abuse me.

His hair had fallen out of its pristine style. A curl falling in front of his face as his eyes took in my body as he destroyed it. Soft grunts and groans would leave his lips, his thrusting pace harsh and deep.

If there wasn’t a gag in my mouth, i’d be so fucking loud right now.

He uses one of his hands and slithers it up my body, dragging some of the spit on my face down my chin and neck. His eyes lock on mine, a sort of animalistic starvation in them. He felt so good that i thought i would cum right now.

I wanted to touch him. To run my hands down his back and pull his hair. But then again, i couldn’t. Because i was tied up. Powerless. I knew his game and i knew it well. But i also fucking love the game.

My walls contract around him and i can already predict his reaction. He clicks his tongue, slowing his hips just a bit as to pull me back from the edge of an orgasm. I groan, my eyes falling shut and my head laying back.

He reaches and grabs my neck, startling my eyes open. “I want you to watch me use you, darling,” he instructs. I have no choice but to obey. My eyes trail down his toned torso to where he fucks me roughly.

It was so hot. Watching him go in and out of me. My wetness coating my pussy and even his dick. How you could see how deep he was hitting inside me due to the way my stomach pushes out in sync with each snap of his hips.

My eyes water even more, making it hard to keep them open to watch the scene before me. “Be a good girl for me and listen to my instructions,” he comments, noticing how my blinks got longer with each close of my eyes.

I try my best, my eyes flicking up to meet his. His hand that was around my neck moves to my pussy, rubbing circles on my clit with his thumb. I shudder, my entire body writhing at the new sensation.

The pleasure got to the point where i couldn’t take it anymore.

I attempt to pull my hips back, my body overwhelmed with pleasure to the point where it is borderline painful. “Uh uh,” he hums, reaching his hand up and smacking my cheek hard enough to make the previous mark sting even more.

With a dull cry, i stop trying to resist and give up every last ounce of power i had left to him, letting my body go limp so he could have his way with me.

He uses this to his advantage, fucking me harder than before. My breasts bounce with each merciless thrust, my eyes rolled into the back of my head as the mix between his touch on my clit and how he fucks me brings me to an orgasm.

Surprisingly, he lets me have my orgasm. My ears ring and i can feel every single drop of blood that runs through my veins. All my senses were heightened as he fucks me through my orgasm. With my eyes closed, i feel a sharp pain in my chest.

I open my eyes to see he had stabbed me, a proud look on his face. I begin to bleed as he removes the knife from my chest. “Now you’ll be with me forever. Like i said,” he comments as i feel his cum fill me up.

He collapses on top of me, my blood coating his pale skin as i take my last breath.

And i was dead.

[skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru]

I'm not sure Gojo has ever even shown an interest to any girls.

He calls Utahime weak and teases her by making fun of her, essentially- which she hates. Mei Mei is incredibly strong and beautiful, and Gojo acknowledges her skill but that's it. I also noticed that in the anime (the manga doesn't have honorifics, so please correct me if I'm wrong) but he calls her Mei-san rather than Mei Mei. Therefore, I don't think he ever tried to get much closer to her than the interactions we've seen. When she asks him if he'd comfort her if she cried, he tells her that's she strong- she wouldn't cry. I thought it was interesting that while Mei Mei's question was slightly flirty, Gojo answered so simply, without any teasing.

He calls Shoko by her first name, which is understandable since they spend more time together being in the same grade. He realizes that her ability is rare and useful, but like with Utahime and Mei Mei he doesn't go any further than that. He mostly speaks to her about work related things and doesn't flirt or tease much at all.

Honestly, I think Gojo actually respects his female colleagues and mostly pokes fun at Utahime because she's so uptight and strict. Shoko and Mei Mei are more relaxed and self-assured, and Gojo recognizes their skills and compliments them for it rather than teasing them. I doubt Gojo really thinks Utahime is truly weak more than he just loves riling her up. Other than that, Gojo's pretty respectful.

Also, in the Hidden Inventory arc, Gojo was bombarded with screaming from all the girls excited to see him. Other than pulling his shades down so they could see his face- after they asked him to, btw- he didn't really do much else. He didn't even react much to the teacher giving him her phone number. His only comment was "what a fun school," and it's interesting to see that while lots of girls do appreciate his looks, he acts only mildly amused.

Other than that one model as his wallpaper, we don't really see Gojo flirt or show interest with anyone. He only really teases Utahime to piss her off- I suspect he hates how much she follows the rules like Nanami does, who he teases often as well. He likely just enjoys annoying people so stern because rules just don't sit well with him (especially because of what those "rules" had done to Geto).

It's just a possibility, but he could be one of those guys who's more interested in work than pleasure- I know, he's handsome, but not all handsome people are players and cheaters. I think that's a horrible stigma and a lot of attractive people irl are judged and criticized solely for their looks. People make too many assumptions on someone just based on their genes, and I think it's pretty shallow to think Gojo's a womanizer just because he's attractive. And he knows he's attractive- but when did being confident in yourself make you a philanderer? Gojo has never used his looks manipulatively at all.

It's definitely a possibility that he would be a womanizer, but I'd say it's unlikely based in what we've seen. To sum it all up, Gojo doesn't show interest in anyone. He teases Utahime often, likely for the same reason be teases Nanami- they're too uptight. Shoko and Mei Mei are both incredibly skilled and beautiful sorcerers, and he does acknowledge and compliment them for it, but he doesn't tease or flirt with them. He's respectful, and he works with them as his colleagues. He didn't get distracted by the teen girls fawning over him either, or suddenly get overtly cocky or show off, only sliding his glasses down so they could see his face, and even then he acted only mildly amused. Also, when Miwa asked him for a picture, he didn't even stay and chat with her or anything (I know she's a minor, but if he truly was a womanizer, he would have at least stayed to hear her compliment him or anything to feed his ego) Maybe ask her "Oh, you want a picture with me? The strongest? How cute~" A flirty comment, a joke, something to fuel his own ego, but he doesn't do that. He doesn't act in a way that conveys he openly pursues attention from women. He just takes the picture with her and walks off casually.

Therefore, other than the fact that he's handsome- and I know many people who would assume things about someone based on their attractiveness, which is a terrible stereotype- Gojo doesn't show much interest in flirting at all. He could be the type of guy who works more than plays- and there's plenty of guys who are handsome but aren't super interested in playing around. Being handsome doesn't automatically mean he's the type to sneak around and have affairs here and there. It's completely realistic for a handsome man to be uninterested in any kind of relationships- not all men are sex crazed, and being a tease to his friends doesn't make Gojo a flirt either. Teasing your friends is perfectly normal.

Therefore, Gojo being a 28 year old virgin is totally possible- not everyone's a sex crazed teen who only thinks about what's between their legs, and basing it on what normal Japanese teens do is unfair. Neither Gojo or his lifestyle is exactly normal, and there's definitely barriers when it comes to experiencing normal youth activities for Gojo's generation- especially Gojo's generation. Yuji's generation definitely has more freedom to do fun things because of what Gojo has done to give the youth more freedom- things he hasn't been able to experience himself in his youth, like playing baseball during the exchange event. That was the first time they ever did something different to tradition, and that was only because of Gojo's consideration.

Gojo's youth was filled with blood, exorcising, and choosing between life and death. The deaths Yuji and co. witnessed were what Gojo experienced as well, if not worse. Gojo's task in his youth was to protect the weak, and he found that burdensome. At least, until Geto betrayed them, and Gojo realized the new burden he had to bear in changing the Jujutsu world because of what it had done to his only best friend.

There are definitely more important things in Gojo's mind than just losing his virginity, like saving people and choosing who to save, whether he should kill or not kill.

Gojo is the strongest, but he also bears the biggest burden- and that burden is something he chose to bear, and being the strongest is something he chose to be. Because before Geto left, it was "We are the Strongest." Now, Gojo worked tirelessly so that he could say "I am the Strongest."

And that's not something you can do while sleeping around. I think a lot of people fail to recognize just how hard Gojo works for himself and others. They just think, oh he's the strongest, so it should be easy for him. But it's really, really not that simple, is it? Especially when you have to do it on your own, and even then Gojo realizes that his strength alone isn't enough to save people. He can't save everyone by himself- It's not enough for just him to be the Strongest, so he works diligently to build and inspire his students to stand with him.

He's actually a very deep and emotional man who cares about his students and especially, even now, his best friend. Everything he does is for their sake- he sacrifices the normal life he could have lived, like Nanami had done, for their sake. And he fights with the higher ups, takes the brunt of their ire, and laughs it off, acting as if he fine, like a dad pretending he's superman for his kid's sake. But Gojo is burdened, and he's tired, and he hardly sleeps, and he has the most missions- he's the Strongest, which means everyone needs him, and he bears it.

Sorry for ranting again tho. I think I went into two different topics lol oops- 🤔

OUR SAVIOR 🤔 EDUCATING PEOPLE pay attention ya'll another thing I've noticed in the latest episode is that in his phone contacts he actually writes Utahime's name properly like formally no emojis or teasing shit he actually sees them as his colleagues people he can rely on his field of work and yes about the whole thing when he bursted into riko's class man was absolutely clueless just silent as a teacher tries to give him his number. I'm pretty sure as a child Gojo wasn't allowed to attend public schools due him being in danger or putting others in danger so he doesn't know much about public schools or normal people in general since he spends all his time with people from the jujutsu society.

That is definitely true just because someone is good looking that doesnt mean he's some cheap womanizer. I see a lot of people shipping him and Utahime together which is understandable ship who you like but I don't think Gojo as any ulterior motives like wooing Utahime by teasing her he just is plainly teasing ya know like friends do but in this case Utahime hates his guts and he doesnt know. I mean it takes some amount of hate to try to throw hot tea at someone 😂

While certainly I agree Gojo's teen like wasn't the best it was like he literally had a full time job at that age but who's to stay he didn't go messing around one time? I'm sure during his teen days he wanted to experience things he didnt get to to but now could because he lives on his own now. But maybe he didnt at all who knows? Which also raises another question, I wonder if he has any romantic experiences? And this was all before what happened in the hidden inventory arc after that I can see him more becoming invested in his duty and with what happened with geto as well would of definitely had a huge impact on him to try harder even though hes the strongest so that the next generation wouldn't have to experience the things he went through.

It's really sad if you really think about it what hes been through and what he has to shoulder all while keeping the facade that he's okay, I bet there were times he cursed his powers and his life....but he bears with it anyways because everyone is counting on him....

And don't be sorry at all! I am actually really learning alot about Gojo from you. Please continue to tell us your thoughts and feelings. I don't mind at all ❤ and thank you for taking the time to write 💕

[jayoctodot]

The Silent Patient vs The Maidens

I will start by saying that I understand the appeal of these novels as page-turners. They are easy to read and if you want a twisty reveal at the end, you will probably be entertained and satisfied. That being said, I am SO CONFUSED by the near-universal adoration of The Silent Patient and the reasonably positive reception of The Maidens. The weaknesses of the two are strikingly similar, as well, which doesn’t give me much hope of seeing improvement from this guy, though I am intrigued to see whether he keeps repeating the same (apparently successful!!) patterns. These books were at least super fun to hate.

(For context, I read The Maidens for a bookclub I'm in, because several of the members had read and loved The Silent Patient, and one of them gave me a copy of the latter to read on my own time. I loathed The Maidens and then read The SP for comparative purposes. And because I'm a masochist, apparently.)

SPOILER WARNING! Do not read on unless you've finished both books (or unless you care not for spoilers). Sorry if it gets a bit shouty.

Here are the similar weaknesses I noticed in both:

PSEUDO-PSYCHOLOGY

-> Weirdly similar “group therapy” scenes early on where a cartoonishly unstable patient arrives late, disrupts the meeting by throwing something into the middle of the circle, and is asked to join the group after the therapist(s) speechify on the importance of boundaries (HA! None of these therapists would know an appropriate boundary if it kicked them in the ass) and debate whether to “allow” the patient to join. Both scenes are so transparent in their design to establish the credibility/legitimacy of the narrators as therapists, but instead both Theo and Mariana come off as super patronizing. The protagonists are less and less believable as therapists at the stories progress (though at least Theo’s incompetence is explained away by the “twist” at the end; Mariana, on the other hand, is confronted in the opening pages of the novel by a patient who has self-harmed PRETTY extensively, and rather than ensure he get proper medical attention, she essentially throws him a first aid kit and tosses him out the door so she can pour herself a glass of wine and call her niece... and it devolves from there).

-> Ongoing insistence throughout the narrative that one’s childhood trauma entirely explains the warped/dysfunctional way a character behaves or views the world, which is why the books go out of their way to give EVERY potentially violent character a traumatic childhood; when Theo insists that no one ever became an abuser who hadn’t been abused themselves, I wanted to throw the book across the room. (That is a MYTH, SIR. GET OUT OF HERE WITH YOUR ARMCHAIR PSYCHOLOGY.)

-> Female murderers whose pathology boils down to “history of depression” and “traumatized by a male loved one/family member.” Because, as we all know, depression + abuse = murderer!

-> The “therapy” depicted in both books is laughable and so so unrealistic, mostly because neither narrators function as therapists so much as incompetent detectives, obsessively pursuing a case they have no place pursuing (or skill to pursue - both just happen across every clue mostly by way of clunky conversation with all the people who can provide precisely the snippet of info to send them along to the next person, and the next… until all is revealed in a tired, cliched “twist”). Their constant Psych 101 asides were so tiresome and weirdly dated (also, the constant harping on countertransference got so ridiculous that at one point during "therapy" Theo literally attributes his headache and a particular emotion he feels to Alicia, as though the contents of her head are being broadcast directly into his mind... and I'm PRETTY SURE that's not how it works???)

CHARACTERS

-> Psychotherapist narrators with abusive fathers and pretensions of being Sherlock Holmes, which results in both characters crossing ALL KINDS of ethical lines as they invade the personal lives of everyone even tangentially connected to their cases (and, in Theo's case, violate all kinds of patient confidentiality. Yeah, yeah, by the end, that's the least of his offenses, but before you get there, it's baffling that NO ONE is calling him out on this).

-> All female characters are either elderly with hilariously bad advice, monstrous hulking brutes, or beautiful bitches (except for ~MARIANA~, who is Bella Swan-esque in her unawareness of her own attractiveness, despite multiple men trying to get with her almost immediately after meeting her. I'm so tired of beautiful female characters being oblivious to their own hotness. Are we meant to believe all mirrors and male attention have escaped their notice? If it’s to make them “relatable,” this tactic really fails with me).

-> All characters of color are shallow, cartoonish side characters, and most of them are depicted as unsympathetic minor antagonists (the Sikh Chief Inspector in The Maidens continuously drinks tea from an ever-present thermos, and his only other notable characteristic is his instant dislike of Mariana, whom he VERY RIGHTLY warns to stay out of the investigation that she is VERY MUCH compromising… the Caribbean manager of the Grove is universally disliked by her staff for enforcing stricter safety regulations at the bafflingly poorly run mental institution, because HOW DARE SHE. There's a very clear vibe that we're supposed to dislike these characters and share the protagonists' indignation, but honestly Sangha/Stephanie were completely in the right for trying to shut down their wildly inappropriate investigations).

-> "Working class" characters (or basically anyone excluded from the comfortably upper-crust, educated main cadre of characters) are few and far between in both stories, but when they show up, he depicts them as such caricatures. We got Elsie the pathologically lying housekeeper in the Maidens, who is enticed to share her bullshit with cake, and then a TOOTHLESS LEPRECHAUN DEALING DRUGS UNDER A BRIDGE in the SP. I kid you not, a man described as having the body of a child, the face of Father Time, and no front teeth, emerges from beneath a bridge and offers to sell Theo some "grass." I was dyinggg.

-> There are no characters to root for. Anywhere. Partly because they’re all so thinly drawn — and because we’re clearly supposed to view almost ALL of them as potential suspects, so they’re ALL weird, creepy, or incompetent in some way.

-> The flimsiest of flimsy motives, both for the narrators and the murderers. Theo fully would have gotten away with his involvement in the murder if he hadn't gone out of his way to work at the Grove and "treat" Alicia and his justification for doing so is pretty weak; his rapid descent into stalking and murder fantasy and his random ass decision to "expose" Alicia's husband as a cheater with a spur-of-the-moment home invasion and staged attempted homicide is ONLY justified if the reader hand waves it away as WELP, HE'S CRAZY, I GUESS (after all, he DID have an abusive father and a history of mental illness, and in Michaelides novels, that's ALL YOU NEED to become a violent psycho). I guess we're lucky Mariana didn't also start dropping bodies (because the logic of his fictional universe says she should definitely be a murderer by now... maybe that'll be his Maidens sequel?). But she especially had NO reason to randomly turn detective - and she kept trying to justify it by saying she needed to re-enter the world or that Sebastian would want her to (??), even though she had no background in criminal psychology... or even a particular fondness for mysteries (really, I would've accepted ANYTHING to explain her dogged obsession with the case. WHY were Sebastian and Zoe so certain she would insert herself into the investigation just because one of Zoe's friends was the first victim? WHY?). As for Zoe and Alicia, their motives are mere suggestions: they were both abused and manipulated, and voila! Slippery slope to murder.

WRITING STYLE

-> Incessant allusions to Greek tragedy and myth, apparently to provide a sophisticated gloss over the bare-bones writing style, which opts more for telling than showing and frequently indulges in hilariously bizarre analogies. Credit where credit is due — the references to Greek myth are less clunky in the SP, and I liked learning about the Alcestis play/myth, which I hadn’t heard of before - but OMG the entire characterization of Fosca, who we are meant to believe is a professor of Greek tragedy at one of the most respected universities on the planet, is just absurd. His "lecture" on the liminal in Greek tragedy is essentially the Wikipedia page on the Eleusinian Mysteries capped off with some Hallmark-card carpe diem crap. The lecture hall responds with raucous applause, clearly never having heard such vague genius bullshit before.

-> Super clunky and amateurish narrative device of interludes written by another character; Sebastian’s letter reads like a mashup of Dexter monologues and Clarice’s memory of the screaming sheep, but by FAR the worse offender is Alicia’s diary, where we’re supposed to believe she painstakingly recorded ENTIRE CONVERSATIONS, BEAT-BY-BEAT DIALOGUE, even when she’s just been DRUGGED TO THE GILLS with morphine and has mere moments of consciousness left… and even before that, she literally takes the time to write “He's trying the windows and doors! ...Someone’s inside! Someone’s inside the house! ETC ETC” when she thinks her stalker has broken in downstairs. WHO DOES THAT?)

-> Speaking of dialogue, the dialogue is so bad. Based on his bio, Michaelides got a degree in screenwriting, which makes his terrible dialogue even more baffling.

-> HILARIOUSLY rendered voyeur scenes where the narrators spy on couples having sex. Such unintentionally awkward descriptions. First we had Kathy’s climax sounds through the trees and then the bowler hat carefully placed on a tombstone before the gatekeeper plows a student. Again, I died.

PLOT/"TWIST"

-> The CONSTANT red herrings make for such an exhausting read. Michaelides drops anvils with almost every character that are so obviously meant to designate them as suspects in our minds. There is absolutely no subtlety in his misdirections.

-> The “crossover” scene between the SP and The Maidens makes no sense - when in the timeline does Mariana’s story overlap with Theo’s? They confer just before Theo starts working at the Grove, obviously (though Mariana appears to be the one who alerts Theo to the job opening there? Whereas in the SP, Theo has been obsessively tracking Alicia since the murder and had already planned to apply to work there?), but then are we supposed to believe that while Theo has been psychotically pursuing his warped quest to “help” Alicia, he’s also been diligently treating Zoe, so invested in her case that he repeatedly reaches out to Mariana to get her to visit Zoe and even writes Mariana a lengthy letter to convince her to do so??? And then a couple days after The Maidens ends, Theo is arrested???

-> But the thing I really did hate the most is how Michaelides treats his female murderers (who are both also victims themselves) as mere means to deploy a “twist”; there’s no moment spared to encourage our sympathy for Zoe, who was groomed and manipulated by the only trusted father figure in her life, and even after spending a decent amount of time getting to know Alicia via her ridiculous diary, where it’s so apparent that she’s been demeaned, objectified, manipulated, gaslit, and/or used by EVERY man in her life, she’s sent packing to spend the rest of her days in a coma… HOW much more satisfying would it have been for her to succeed in exposing Theo and reclaiming her voice? But no, she basically rolls over when he comes to finish her off (SPEAKING OF — ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE THERE ARE NO SECURITY CAMERAS IN THIS INSTITUTE FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE????), writes one last diary entry, and drifts off forever. And then a couple pages of nothing later, the story is over. GOODNIGHT, ALICIA!

Both books kept me rolling throughout (by which I mean eye-rolling but also rotfl). Maybe I will check out his next effort — I’m morbidly curious what he’ll turn out. It does leave me wondering whether I should give up on thriller novels entirely, though. Are many of the weaknesses of these novels just characteristic of the genre? Maybe I'm just holding these books to unfair standards? I'm mostly only familiar with thriller films — many of which I think are amazing — but maybe you can get away with more in a film than you can in a novel.

...I really only intended to write a handful of bullet points, but more and more kept coming to mind as I wrote, to the point where subheadings became necessary. Whoopsie.

[jawritter]

Where The Green Grass Grows

Chapter 3

Summary: Life changes, nothing ever stays the same. With most change comes with some degree of pain, that’s how we grow.

Jensen thought he had his whole life planned out, written for him in the bright lights of Hollywood. One failed marriage later, and a lifetime of lessons learned, lead him home to a place he thought he’d left behind him when he was only a teenager.

He thought his life was over. He felt like he’d lost everything, but who knew one little trip to the local diner that had just opened up outside of town would turn his whole world upside down. All because he met you. Maybe a little slower pace of life isn’t such a bad idea after all…

Warnings:  Language, Angst, mention of past OC character death, mention of grief, fear of moving on.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word  Count: 1652

Dividers: @firefly-graphics​

A/N: This fic is unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work. Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this one!!

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“Ugh! Is this day ever going to end!” you groan as you flop down onto the unoccupied stool that was sitting in front of the bar. Old country music was blaring overhead and the chatter of customers filled the room. The smell of fast food was always so thick in this place that sometimes you felt it was suffocating, and today was one of those days. 

You wanted nothing more than to go home and sink into a hot bath with a glass of wine and a book. You only had one more hour, if you could just make it one more hour, then you could go home. 

“You’re getting out of here before closing at least,” Jess said as she came to drop some ones and fives into the cash register beside you. “I’m stuck here until closing tonight.” 

You were just about to point out how she would at least get good tips with it being a Saturday, but the sound of the door chiming alerted you both to the incoming customer, and you could tell by the grin on her face who had just walked in without even having to turn around. 

Jensen had been coming in every day since he’d come in that Sunday after church with his family. At first, he would come in and not say a lot, just sit at the bar or back corner booth and order his meal. He would try and make light conversation with you, nothing too alarming or out of the ordinary of what any other regular does. 

Then about a week in he started to try and make more in-depth conversations with you as you worked around him, either cleaning tables or waiting on him specifically. 

Jess had been running around you for days now insisting that Jensen had a crush on you. You yourself were not as convinced as she was. Sure, he was devastatingly attractive, and sure, he was an absolute sweetheart; but that didn’t change the fact that no matter how attractive you found him you were not in his league. 

“Hey ladies,” he said, flopping down next to you, and giving you a soft smile that seemed to make your knees weak every time he did that. 

“Well, well, look who’s back already,” Jess quips to him with a smirk of her own. Jensen laughs a little and shakes his head before taking the drink that she was handing him from across the counter. He’d been in here so much that you both could just about guess his order before he even got around to telling it. 

“I had to see my favorite girls,” he said, throwing his arm around you playfully, and causing a blush to burn deep in your cheeks. You were slightly thankful for the bell ringing that told you table three’s order was ready. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Jensen, and if he saw you blushing you were sure you would literally die on the spot. 

You could feel Jensen’s eyes on you as you grabbed the tray of burgers and fries, and made your way over to the table where your customers were waiting. You were hoping that it would give you enough of a moment to collect your nerves before making your way back over to the bar where Jensen and Jess were still sitting. 

You had been doing some research on Jensen since you’d met him that day he’d left you the note and the large tip. Some things he’d already told you. Like his long-running show ending, the divorce he’d recently gone through, he’d told you about his three kids. The thing that bothered you the most, aside from why the hell he was hanging out here with you, was why they divorced?

He had still not told you that much, and you didn’t want to just out and out ask him, but the tabloids seemed to think it was because he was a cheater, and then some think it was because she cheated, which leads to a whole new set of rumors that go from Jensen being an abusive husband, to Danneel being a whore, and it was impossible to tell what was true and what was false. 

You knew it shouldn’t bother you, and you were in no way going to ask him what happened with his last marriage, but you wanted to know all the same. Your eyes drifted up to meet his piercing gaze as you grabbed the empty napkin holder from the table to replace it with a fresh one, and he sent you that same soft smile.

He was so contradictory to everything you had ever heard about celebrity men. He seemed so kind. He listened when you talked to him, and seemed legitimately to care about what you were saying. He was so self-sacrificing in everything he seemed to be involved in, and whatever he was doing, he seemed to put his all into it. He was passionate and caring, and everything any girl ever dreamed of getting when she was grew up.

The only problem you had was the fear that these feelings were one-sided and that you were mistaking his kind personality for something more, even though you knew you were nowhere near this man’s type. 

You had seen the pictures of his ex-wife, and you knew there was no way you’d ever be able to measure up to someone as beautiful as she was. So you knew that you had to get these emotions, this crush, under control before he comes in one day with another pretty girl on his arm, and it was all over for your heart. 

Why did you have to have a crush on someone so completely perfect, and at the same time so completely out of reach as soon as you decided to try and put yourself back out there? It was unfair at best, and tragic at it’s worse.  

Taking a deep breath you make your way back over to your current seat, and look up at the clock. Jensen didn’t miss the small glance and turned on his seat to face you fully, his gorgeous bowed legs spread and his knee touching yours, but he didn’t seem to mind or at least notice. You, on the other hand, you noticed, and it took a lot to concentrate because of the small contact his body was making with your own. 

“So, when do you get off today?” Jensen asked, grabbing a fry and shoving it in his mouth as a plate of food was placed in front of him.

“In about thirty minutes,” you tell him with a deep sigh, it had been a long shift. 10 am to 7 pm was the worst because it took up most of your day, and you got the bad end of both shifts, lunch and then dinner rush. 

“Oh,” he said, his handsome face falling a bit. “I was hoping I’d have a little longer to talk to you before you got off. I would have come in sooner, but I was on a Zoom call with my agency,” he said, some stress returning to his shoulders as he busied himself with his fries again. 

“Well, I’m here for a little bit,” you tell him, giving his knee a playful nudge with yours and earning a cheeky chuckle from him. “Are you getting ready to go back to California anytime soon?” you asked him, more than a little afraid of what the answer was going to be. 

You had gotten used to him coming in every day, and you didn’t like the thought that he might be leaving again. 

“No, not now anyway. That was just check-in and updates, more a waste of time than anything.”

You hoped the amount of relief you felt didn't show on your face as much as you thought it must have, and you had to bite down on your lip to stop the smile that started to creep up there. When you looked up at him you wondered how it was possible that his eyes could sparkle like that all the time.

“Well, what are you going to be doing then Mr. Ackles. You’re going to get tired of being here every day after a while. Texas doesn’t have as much to offer as L.A. I’m sure.” 

Jensen hummed and you could have sworn that his eyes traveled down to your lips before looking back up to meet your eyes again. 

“That’s a matter of perspective sweetheart.” 

You thought that you heard his voice dropped a whole octave, and you had to suppress the shudder that wanted to roll through your body. You hadn’t noticed that the two of you had been gravitating closer to one another while you were talking until Jess came and cleared her throat loudly from behind the bar. 

“You two love birds better be careful now, Y/N is still on the clock, and table six needs a refill.” 

Jensen clears his throat and sits up quickly, grabbing his drink as if his life depended on it, and you turned towards the counter as if you had been shot. 

“I’ll just go get that,” you mumble as Jensen chuckles and watches you run off to refill the drinks.

“Keep trying Jensen, she’ll come around,” Jess told him, and Jensen gave her a tight smile in return. 

“Oh, I don’t give up so easily on something I want,” Jensen said as he took a healthy bite from his burger, his eyes still trained to you as you talked to your customers. 

He didn’t know how, but he had to get you to open up to him. He thought he’d never feel this way about someone again after his world fell apart, but you were just the breath of fresh air that would keep him from drowning.

@deandreamernp

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[strigital]

Do tell about Nim, I couldn’t find much info about her through your blog and I am dying to know more about this werewolf lady

well grab a pint and sit yo booty down, cause our bard of the evening tonight is Nim and she's drunk as all hell and ready to weave some outrageous stories!! 🍻

in all seriousness, thank you for asking! 😭💗 she came about back in ye oldie days of hype over the 11th of november 2011, and since then refuses to give up the title of my fav oc!!

now, a Paarthurnax would say: lets-a go!

a quick recap of the events in Skyrim:

Naali Saryn was born sometime in 4E 130 on mainland Morrowind as a result of a quick fling between an unknown Dunmer girl and Lucien Lachance and Kassandra Saryn's (The Hero of Kvatch's) son.

Sometime in that year, the baby was found aboard a ship bound for Raven Rock and when no one came forth to claim her a couple of elderly and childless ash yam farmers decided to take her in until her family was found.

The family, of course, was never found, and so they raised her as their own for the next sixteen years. They called the girl Nim - short, sweet, meaningless, and easy to shout out into the fields where the little brat is out adventuring when the house chores are yet to be done.

Nim grew up alongside her best friend Teldryn (don't believe his tales about his past, there's a reason why he wears a helmet in his hometown). For years the kids dreamt of leaving Raven Rock behind and making it big in the big city. And idea which really annoyed Nim's ol' Nana, who believed that everything needed for a simple happy life was right here on Solstheim.

After one particularly nasty fight with Nana about the ordeal, Nim gathered a bag of things and slipped out in the dead of night to catch an early morning ship with Teldryn.

They stuck together for a while then went on their separate merry ways. He - to Blacklight, she - to Leyawiin. Once in the wild, Nim had to quickly figure out her place in the pecking order. The romantic life of crime seemed to be the most attractive for her, but getting on top could never be easy. Especially for a young, inexperienced, and naive girlie. So she ended up running with the wrong kind of crew. Ended up in some truly dark places. Barely got out alive. Learned from her mistakes. Wore the scars of abuse like armor and made sure that since that day no one in this world or any other would play her for a fool, use her or put a finger on her without her permission.

By the time she turned fifty, Nim was well known amongst certain circles as the kind of scoundrel, thief, bard, and wench one should not trifle with. But her luck had to eventually run out, and so it did on the night of the fabled Umbacano Mansion heist, which failed so badly Nim had to either leave Cyrodiil or end up in a Thalmor owned torture chamber.

Skyrim seemed like a perfect place. After all, in a kingdom torn apart by the civil war, no one would even notice yet another greyskin refugee, right? Well, the Thalmor did. And so she ended up on a cart bound for Helgen to have a date with an executioner. But then Alduin showed up to crash the party before he himself got rudely interrupted by another dragon, who swooped in to save the Last Dragonborn.

After the narrow escape, Nim concluded her duty to warn Balgruuf of the dragon threat and went on to start a new career as a merc with the Companions. She and Aela became fast friends and when the prospect of joining the Circle came up she gladly accepted a sip of her new sister's blood. To never again be helpless and weak? To rip apart any fool who'd take her for just another elf wench who can't put up a fight? Well of course it was worth giving up the ability to sleep and having to get used to all smells suddenly becoming ten times worse!

After that Mirmulnir showed up and ended up as another ornament above the throne in the Dragonsreach. And Nim got stuck with a title which she would wear with great discontent for years to come.

Eventually, she ceased trying to run away and hide from her destiny, accepted her role as the Last Dragonborn, and begrudgingly began her quest to save the world. On her journey, she met and became tight friends with Yollokmir and Alasil who taught her how to speak, fight and fly like a dragon. With their help she inherited Konahrik's legacy: his mask embued with his soul, his citadel far up in the mountains - the NebenLok Zeikangaar - and the right to revive and lead the order of dragon riders sworn to defeat Alduin - DovahDein.

As she gained power and the word of her great many deeds spread across Skyrim, she managed to get quite the following of fellow men, mer, and Dov, willing to follow her into Sovngarde and beat the hell out of Alduin. Alas, she failed. Twice.

At that point, Alasil informed her of a special someone who might be of help in their quest against Alduin and who might prove difficult to convince to join her cause. That was the first time in fifty years that Nim got to visit her home. Unfortunately, Solstheim had changed. And upon arrival, she learned that her Pa passed onto the realm of Azura soon after her departure, and her Nana... well, she wasn't young anymore and suffered greatly due to all the ash ruining her lungs... and when the islanders got called to the All-Maker stones night after night by a mysterious spell, she just worked herself to death. That was the only thing Nim wouldn't forgive Miraak for, not until he swallowed his pride and sincerely apologized for being responsible for his potential mother-in-law's death.

And with Miraak's help, they finally sent Alduin back to his Maker, enjoyed a few peaceful years until High King Ulfric became a bit drunk on his power and needed a good ass whooping as well. Then Miraak suddenly found himself as the new king and Nim... she just did her own thing. As always. The end?

Oh and all the while running about, gathering forces, growing her Dragonborn powers, hunting Dragon Priests and Alduin's henchmen, she also meddled with the Thieves Guild, put Karliah in charge and became her right hand, managed to become an advisor on all things dragon at the Mage's College, ended up teaching lute and songwriting at the Bard's College (she's taking a break since Viarmo can't seem to handle her teaching tactics), earned the title of Thane in every hold and became a good friend to the Dawnguard fellas (Isran is more than happy to teach her kids the ropes of monster hunting) after kicking Harkon's ass into Oblivion. In what little free time she has Nim also manages the Lakeview Manor and leases the ash yam farm back in Raven Rock for some extra cash. All in all, a busy woman!

and some tidbits about the dovahmom:

Although Nim is perfectly aware of her real name, she chooses to use the one given to her by Nana. Both as a sign of respect and because, frankly, she dislikes both the Sarynes and the Lachances, who are, in her humble opinion, just a bunch of pricks. Somehow, the ghost of her murdered grandad finds this opinion of hers kinda funny.

Her friends sometimes describe her as "cyrodiilic brandy in a cup of tea": she's this small elf girl with pretty blue eyes and a smile on her face and you think that she'll be very pleasant and cute and shy and then... then you realize she drinks like a sailor, swears like one too, can beat anyone into the dirt (thanks, Hircine) and doesn't take shit from nobody. She openly speaks her mind and doesn't give a shit about what someone might think of her. She does what she considers the right thing to do, never plays nice with those she dislikes, never pretends to be someone she isn't. She's feisty, sassy, brassy, and, quite honestly, just doesn't give a fuck.

Nim is in almost complete control over her inner beast, partly thanks to her draconic blood, partly - to the ring she got when she and Sinding had that little party on a moonlit night in that grotto. She only loses control over herself when both moons are full and thusly will travel deep into the wilds a few days before the magical night. This way the only people that might get hurt are bandits, necromancers, hags, and the like. She and Aela also managed to get a small werewolf pack going, named the Whitemane Pack after the old man himself and dedicated to those who wish to take control over their inner beast, hunt with honor, and cause the Silver Hand as much grief as possible.

Nim is raising Blaise and Sofie as her own since they both were just wee lil' war orphans (the babes are in their teens now). She never quite really knew why... Nim was never a wifey nor a baby momma kind of woman. In fact, she can't even have children in the first place and, honestly, always thought of this as a blessing - never having to worry about contraception like all those other girls and just having fun without a care in the world! Her friends sometimes joke around, saying that she might've finally "ripened" for the motherhood, but she doesn't care. She loves Blaise, Sofie, and Sissel (thanks, Miraak, you're so good at kidnapping children!) and is content with being their famous Dragonborn mom. Post-Alduin Miraak, however, is secretly annoyed for not being able to get her pregnant. Oh well, the man can dream...

Oh yeah! Nim plays the lute and sings too! It's a skill she picked up across taverns all over the continent when she realized that bards get free drinks and a bed, as well as ample opportunity to sniff out and seduce prey. And even though her days of hunting for good-looking rich fools are long behind her, she still performs in inns and taverns across Skyrim. Firstly, it brings in a fair amount of money, and secondly, it's good for her Voice! And also just plain and simple fun.

Also, people get terribly surprised when she, a Dunmer, doesn't act like one at all! Nim might've grown up in Raven Rock, a Dunmer settlement, but she spent the rest of her life traveling the continent and then living in Skyrim. She's more Nord-ish than some Nords! And the Nords actually really love it! It's so so easy to just get plastered with the homegirl, punch some faces and pass out on a heap of hay behind the inn, just happy to be alive on this fine snowy day. The only truly Dunmer thing about her is the occasional "n'wah!" which escapes her potty mouth. I mean, she doesn't even like sujamma all that much and would rather have a pint of mead! Whatever Ancestors she has must be spinning in their graves fast enough to generate electricity.

uuuhhh I think that's all the important stuff? i might've forgotten, in which case, I'll add it later... meanwhile, have some more Nim content:

^^^ the fanfic is slow, but it's moving... at a snail's pace. my advice: don't expect updates, so that when they do come, you'll be pleasantly surprised!

[sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose]

Thorin x reader | Hanahaki |

Summary: Reader falls in love with Thorin even if he isn't always nice to her. Reader gets Hanahaki disease and it worsens everytime she realizes Thorin won't ever love her.

Hanahaki: A rare disease caused by unrequited love. It manifests when the afflicted believes their feelings are unrequited. Thus even if the feelings are requited, they will have to be convinced they are loved.

If the afflicted has been rejected then the disease will worsen and the afflicted will die within a few hours.

(I once read this version of Hanahaki somewhere but I don't remember where so it might seem familiar.)

Warnings: Angst, panic attack (but good ending, promise, I can't stand bad endings lol my heart can't take those)

You would've never guessed that love could produce such a disease. Flowers rooting themselves in your lungs, growing and limiting your breathing capabilities. Gandalf, the sly wizard, found you throwing bloody petals away and pulled you aside.

Your gut told you the Grey Wizard already knew who it was but you still refused to say. It was painful enough to realize he would never love you back, so why say it out loud? So you would die quicker? No. You refused to die until you've done your part in the Quest for Erebor.

Gandalf kindly (urgently) told you the 'cure' of the Hanahaki disease. Should you confess and your feelings are requited, then the disease would disappear. But the afflicted would need to truly believe they are loved, otherwise they will end up the same way should their feelings be unrequited. If you confess and the other person doesn't feel the same, then the afflicted would die within a few hours instead of dying a slow suffocating death.

After being transported from your home to Middle-Earth and stumbling upon the little hobbit hole, you were swept away on this quest. Gandalf had to do a lot of convincing the King under the Mountain to let you join the Company because he thought you would be an asset to the quest. How? You did not know...

You were certain you weren't fit for this quest but you knew the feeling of missing home. Something you hadn't talked about it with anyone yet. No one asked so you didn't say a word about it.

The first to approach you were the nephews, Bofur and Bilbo (and Gandalf of course). They made you feel welcomed when the others didn't.

Thorin didn't budge from his first impression of you. Frail, weak and just a human female. Useless and an extra mouth to feed.

Your first impression of him on the other hand was quite the opposite. He was more handsome than in the movies, more majestic and even more intimidating.

You developed a little crush on the brooding King but that was only because he was attractive. His personality made you gag in the beginning, but after some time on the quest, you saw through little actions that he cared greatly for his kin.

You began to admire him more, even if his attitude towards you was less than optimal and even though you weren't the recipient of his small acts of kindness. Even Bilbo was more accepted by the Company and Thorin than you were. This made you feel like an outcast.

Even though Thorin treated you like you were less, your crush on him began to develop into love because you saw what a great king he would be. The important decisions he makes and leading the Company, you wouldn't be able to do any of those things, and you doubt anyone just could. He was extremely loyal and honorable (just not to you I guess).

After a while your throat began itching and you felt an urge to cough. It began as an annoying itch and transformed into a painful cough. You didn't want to be seen as an inconvenience (even more than before) so you hid it.

Then came the petals. Bloody petals. Hiding these were easy enough since it didn't happen a lot, but Gandalf was able to pick up on it. It looked like he pitied you, and was always kind and understanding when you didn't want to say who it was (but he probably already knew).

After the ordeal with those trolls (were you weren't much of a help) Bilbo became more accepted into the Company than you (though Fili, Kili and Bofur were still very accepting and open minded).

The Company slowly opened up to you, reluctantly albeit, because of your gender. Dwarves thought that females should stay safe at home and not be out adventuring.

That hurt you to be honest. After transporting to this world you didn't have a home to turn to, but apparently these dwarves never realized that. It bothered you greatly since you never talked to anyone about your family, but you did talk about your world when certain dwarves asked questions about your world.

Little by little you began feeling more worthless and depressed, even when the Company keeps you company. (hah get it?)

You stayed quiet more than ever, only saying something when something was asked, and with less enthusiasm. The Company must've noticed how your mood dampened. You missed home and Thorin's harsh words didn't make it any better. He always remarked how you should've stayed home, but it's not like you a choice now had you? You always went out in the woods to cough out all the petals you were keeping in and hoped no one would notice.

One night, when you were keeping watch (yaaay you got a task...but it was a sign that the leader thought you weren't completely useless) you felt someone sitting next to you. You hoped your tears weren't visible as you were thinking of home and how you're probably stuck on Middle-Earth.

The fur of the King was unmissable as he was sitting next to you. Little did you know that he saw your tears glistening in the moonlight. He probably thought you were too emotional and not fit for this quest.

What he said next was unexpected. "I am sorry for how I acted towards you in this journey. You clearly have an effect on the moods of everyone here. So much, that when your mood dampened, it affects every one of us."

Confused you looked at Thorin and furrowed your brows. "There is something clearly bothering you, something you haven't told us. May I ask what it is?" He said with concern laced in his voice.

That made you break down and cry out all your pent up emotions. Thorin must've thought you were an annoyance as he shifted a bit, probably out of shock.

"I don't have a home, I don't have anyone, no family or friends to turn to, so when this journey is over where do I go?", you said with frustration and tears streaming down your face. You felt hopelessness increasing as you said those words aloud.

As your body was shaking, trembling, you put your head in your hands and soon your crying turned into a panic attack. Your mind foggy and blurry, face wet from the salty tears that were flowing down your cheeks, body shaking from the mental stress you endured during the trip.

Your breathing shortened and you brought your knees to your head while using your arms to shield yourself from the outside world.

You couldn't take it anymore missing home, the loneliness, being out of your comfort zone. Even if the Company was there to comfort you, it just wasn't the same. It became to much. You loved the soon-to-be-king and that didn't make it any easier.

His eyes widened as he took in your trembling figure. The gruff dwarf sat next to you, as seeing you in such a state made him want to comfort you. He didn't know everything about you but he had a snippet of knowing that you missed your home, even though you never said it. He heard it in your voice and when your eyes looked distant and glazed over.

He was very prideful, but seeing how he never saw signs that you would break down like this he got worried. He wondered how long you were bottling up all your emotions.

It comforted you greatly to have warmth next to you, especially when it was him.

After trying to get your breathing under control in which you failed as it almost induced another hyperventilation, Thorin helped you.

"Breathe in, breathe out, listen to my breathing and to my voice only," his deep baritone voice said as he turned to you and placed a hand on your back, "your doing great (y/n)."

The first time he said your name. That was enough to make you calm down but you didn't dare to look at him so you kept your eyes on the ground.

"I am truly sorry that I did not discuss this earlier with you," he said with a voice full of regret, "I didn't think how my words would've hurt you and how I treated you would've affected you. You are but a mere daughter of the Race of Men and this is a dangerous quest. Your life and health is my responsibility and I will not have you get killed because of a quest you have nothing to gain with. But I see that you did have a reason after all. It's my fault that I didn't see the dedication you put into your contribution to this quest."

It's true. You wanted to help them (after Gandalf informed you of this quest), because you didn't have a home either (at the moment).

In reality Thorin didn't hate you or anything, he thought it best to scare you away so he wouldn't have to worry about a woman getting hurt in his presence. Though it was very obvious that it wasn't a good method of showing his concerns. He felt an unknown pull towards you and it irritated him that he didn't know why.

"Perhaps," he continued, "when this journey is over and Erebor is ours again, I- we would love it if you stayed with us... in the mountain."

The dark-haired dwarf fidgeted a bit.

"R-really," you said tears still staining your face and a bittersweet smile after calming down a bit, "that would be my honour."

For the first time during this quest, Thorin smiled at you. A heartfelt and genuine smile. His eyes twinkled. "My apologies for being blind, my lady," he said with a soft look on his face, "you deserved better, and I will make sure no one treats you the way I treated you."

Both of you smiled at each other and began talking about your life before plunging in this world until it was time for the second watch.

~~

After that night, you felt better. Everyone treated like you were one of the Company and things seemed to go perfectly. Except your disease, which worsened.

Weeks after that night you finally had first watch with Thorin again. He was much nicer to you. He gave his coat to you on multiple occasions, made sure you ate enough and you loved it. But you dreaded moments alone because it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide your disease. After every one of those sweet moments you felt an urge to cough, because you realized your feelings would never be returned. He was just being friendly after that night.

You were having a pleasant talk with Thorin when you felt the petals coming up.

Throat itching more than ever, you began coughing violently, trying to catch your breath. Thorin saw you struggling  and it alarmed him because he didn't know if you were sick or anything like that. As he raised his hand to rub your back to help you or soothe you while coughing since it looked painful, you turned away from him.  You didn't want him to see the petals, almost full flowers now.

He still  put his hand on your back. Then his eyes widened.  Bloody petals. Bloody half-flowers.

He knew of this disease. He knew it was bound to end with a heartbreakingly and sad death.

You knew he had seen them.

"Who?" he asked with the softest voice you ever heard from him. His voice laced with concern and something you couldn't really place.

Shaking your head you said, "It doesn't matter."

"It matters, (y/n)," Thorin said sternly as he looked worriedly at you, "the person who holds your heart must see what a kind and strong person you are."

"If it's someone in the Company, I can talk to him if you want," the Dwarven King continued.

You hurriedly shook your head and looked up at him, slightly surprised by his concerned face, "No that's not needed, I am content watching from afar."

The gruff dwarf dropped it, for now. But you could see the glances and worried gazes from him across the campfire if he heard you cough or clear your throat.

Balin knew of your predicament as he also knows of the extremely rare disease and saw some of the telltale signs. And seeing his King staring at your sleeping figure also cleared up some things for the old dwarf.

Balin, together with Oin helped you hide it from the rest of the company, they were already protective enough and you didn't want to complicate matters further. Oin made something that would soothe your aching throat.

One evening Thorin followed you out when you were 'gathering wood'.  And was surprised to see you coughing up full flowers, blood included.

Tears were streaming down you face as your throat burned from all the flowers you had to cough up.

"(Y/n)?"

You turned around and saw Thorin's eyes glazing over. "Please, tell me who it is. I will do everything in my power to make them see what a beautiful woman you are. If not, please let Gandalf help you."

He was referring to the surgery to remove the disease, which would also remove your ability to ever love again. You couldn't blame people for taking or not taking the surgery. Everyone to their own. You understood the pros and cons of undergoing the surgery, but you liked the pros of suffering from the disease more than the consequences.

You only shook your head as you began crying. "You know I can't, I don't want to be rejected. I'd rather die loving him than live never being able to love."

"Who is hurting your heart, amralime?", the usually gruff dwarf said with a cracked voice, "please, let me help you. I can't bear to see you suffering like this."

Thorin's eyes were glazing over and he held a very sorrowed look. His heart was breaking as yours was, but you didn't know that. The foreign word was also unknown to you which made you confused but you didn't pay any attention to it. You still refused.

"(Y/n), please," he put his forehead on yours, "I'm begging you. I love you too much to let this go. I don't want to lose you. I want you to be my Queen under the mountain so please... let me in. Even if you don't love me, I will still love you even after I go to Mahal's Halls. You are my One, (y/n)."

Gasping as your eyes widened at his confessions. The tears streaming down your face turned from sadness turned to tears of happiness.

You smiled brightly at him. "You love... me? ", your voice wavered.

"Yes, I do. I truly do," he said with a light smile on his face as a tear of worriedness trickled down his cheek. All the brooding dwarf wanted, was for you to be happy.

"But...," your smile faltered and you stared at him, "w-why?"

It broke Thorin's heart to hear you say that for he thought you were the definition of perfection, "At first I didn't know what I was feeling but then I saw you for who you really are. You didn't complain and kept walking while the others complained and whined. I fell in love with you, your beauty and personality. I was hoping to be the target of your affections, but if it's someone else... I would totally understand for I am not an exemplary dwarrow." The blue-eyed dwarf looked at you with a pleading look in his eyes.

"Thorin, if you would've told me this sooner then... this disease wouldn't have gotten so far," you said with a gaze filled with adoration, "I-I love you too, Thorin."

Suddenly, your breathing hitched and you couldn't breathe... Thorin looked alarmed "Ghivashel, what's wrong?"

Clawing at your throat you tried to catch your breath. As if the Valar heard Thorin's whimpers when you collapsed, you started to breath again. Normally, without any pain whatsoever.

You could feel the disease going away as it had a strong reaction to the feelings Thorin and you held for each other.

"I'm fine, my love. Everything's going to be fine," you reassured the love of your life as he held you.

Thorin smiled brightly as he finally had you in his arms and he had no fear of you loving someone else. Just him and only him. You were made for each other and the Valar knew it.

[peggingtaron]

Spectacle

‘Mad’ Teddy Smith x Reader

The Krays need publicity for the reopening of Esmeralda's Barn. As a famous heiress, it’s important that you’re seen enjoying yourself there; so the Krays assign ‘Mad’ Teddy to make a spectacle out of you.

Contains: Smut, with a capital S

Words: 4.7K

Masterlist

><><

Echoes of incessant whispers. Stares burning over your every move. These things were only to be expected everywhere you went. You were (Y/N, L/N), the ‘Duchess’ of Haggerston, informally dubbed by South London’s most prominent gangsters. 

Sure, you weren’t out there arbitrating criminal activity or enforcing illegal transactions as the men were. You worked for the mob in your own way. Your value to them was your mere presence and approval. Being the heiress of South London’s most influential mobster, you were an asset to both friends and foes. Allowing yourself to be seen enjoying yourself or purchasing goods and services at certain business establishments was considered an endorsement.

The recent buzz surrounding Esmerelda’s Barn since the Kray twins had taken over, had caught your eye. No doubt, the Krays were waiting for you to make an appearance to attract more attention. To you, they were doing just fine on their own. The casino had been the talk of London’s West End thanks to Reggie and Ronnie Kray’s dealings. Nonetheless, you walked alone into that casino with confidence and that signature enigmatic demeanour that never failed to turn heads. No matter how successful and popular a place was, you carried yourself there as if you were the very foundation holding the establishment together. It was all in the attitude; you could fool anyone into thinking they needed you.

You knew it was working by the way the Krays observed you from their table, glancing at you while talking amongst themselves. Every time you saw them look your way from the corner of your eye, you’d feign boredom just to get a kick out of how it would cue them to engage in a discussion of how to keep you entertained. 

The gentle vibrato of the star of Esmeralda’s Barn had been lulling over the casino. At this point in the night, most people had retreated to a table or a seat by the bar to watch the songstress. She was enchanting enough that you were willing to forfeit the act of seeming bored, to engage in the show. This was not lost on the Krays.

You finally allowed yourself to look their way from across the room. You met eyes with Ron, who greeted your gaze with a slight grimace, stiffening up his posture and turning over to Reggie, a silent yet gruff request for you to carry your eye contact to him instead. You did as he wanted, meeting eyes with Reggie who happily took the responsibility of greeting you. He etched his signature smooth smirk, giving a gentlemanly bow of his head. Reggie turned his head to Ron, whispering something in his ear, and while the two were engaged in conversation, your eyes wandered to where Ron’s arm reached round.

You were careful not to meet eyes with the man by Ron’s side. At least not right away. Looking at someone so intoxicatingly striking as ‘Mad’ Teddy was something you needed to do in doses. Your eyes started at his elbow that rested atop the table, slowly trailing up to peer at his hands, his fingertips lightly tracing the rim of his glass, stroking slowly to the rhythm of the music. The dose from that was intoxicating enough already, observing the delicacy yet precision of how his fingers curled around the glass edge. You lingered your gaze there a little longer before you began eyeing his suit, up his torso and finally resting your eyes on his shoulder where Ron’s arm was wrapped around. 

A cigar hung in between Ron’s fingers, his hand perched on Teddy’s shoulder. Teddy’s lips came into your focus as he turned his head, leaning in towards the cigar Ron was holding and taking a drag from it. Your eyes followed his lips as they pursed around the cigar ever so slightly grazing against Ron’s fingers. He turned his head, leaning back as the smoke escaped his mouth, misting around his face to frame a pair of roguish green eyes that were burning right into yours. You were finally looking at him. All the features you took your time observing individually now came all together in a complete picture.

As you finally let your gaze settle in his eyes, a smirk plastered across his face, one that started off coquettish. Subtle, yet alluring enough to lure the weakness in your centre. Though as Teddy’s ego became aroused by your stare, his grin grew wide and smug, a grin that made you surrender your eyes from him, making sure to roll them before returning your attention to the enchanting songstress on stage.

You and Teddy weren’t unfamiliar with these types of exchanges. This was one of many times you’ve met eyes, many of which ended with you rolling your eyes to assure him of a disinterest — which was ultimately a lie. You engaged in conversation a few times, mere small talk with the occasional flirtatious nickname on his part. Each conversation brief, yet tantalising enough for him to remain on your mind, the lingering image of him keeping you company on the ride home alone, and keeping you warm in the comfort of a lonely bed. 

Pretending your own fingers were Teddy’s each night was a task that grew difficult the more you bumped into him. Your imagination couldn’t do him justice and your own touch was not nearly enough to satiate your need. However, it was all you could content yourself with, as no scenario that you could think of would prompt Teddy to so much as caress you. Entertaining your yearning gazes at him were merely a means to crow in cockiness that he had such an effect on you. 

As these thoughts returned to your mind, you accompanied it by soaking in the image of Teddy’s fingers from across the room, rhythmically tapping along the side of his glass. You knew he was watching the way your eyes scanned him feverishly. Adding fuel to the heat that you felt rising within yourself, he clasped his fingers around his glass, lifting it up to take a sip, guiding your gaze to his lips once more.

As he took one faint sip, you watched as he removed the glass from his lips, giving you a clear view of his tongue teasing its way out of his parted lips to savour the taste of his drink. You found yourself mimicking his actions, your lips parting in a daze. You were so enchanted by every faint move of his, that you failed to notice that Ron’s arm hadn’t been around Teddy’s shoulder anymore, but waving beside you to get your attention.

Your breath hitched in your throat, ripping your attention away from Teddy to see the Kray twins standing beside your table. Ron stared down at you, the light glaring off his glasses, adding a complimentary intimidating tone to the gravelly way he greeted you. 

“Why don’t you crack a fuckin’ smile, eh? Wouldn’ fuckin’ ‘urt, now would it?”

A light chuckle escaped you, his tone barely hindering your composure. “Alright, Ron?” You greeted him sweetly. 

“Either flash a big smile, flash some quid at the roulette table, or fuck off.”

“Allow me to translate, love.” Reggie interjected, placing an affection pat on his brother’s shoulder, before stepping forward to lead the conversation. He helped himself to the seat next to you, turning to face you with a beguiling smile. “Forgive me brother, he’s been down on his luck lately. You on the other hand, seem to have a natural attraction with luck. Considered having a crack at the roulette table yet, Duchess?”

The roulette table was the centre of the casino, and you, the Duchess of Haggerston, were bound to be seen having a good time there. You planned on going there either way, but having that slight bit of attention paid to you by the debonair brothers themselves was the minute of entertainment you needed before you obliged with their wishes. You allowed yourself to show how charmed you were by Reggie, though your eyes shot back at Ron, amused by how he was staring you down. “I quite prefer Ronnie’s approach.”

“Good, cause I ain’t fannin’ up your dress and kissin’ your arse.” Ron’s eyes wandered, not caring to hide how disinterested he was with talking to you. “Speaking of kissin’ arse… where is that Barney Rubble?” He muttered to himself, turning his head round back at their table, snapping his fingers at an amused Teddy who was watching them from afar. “Oi, Teddy!” Ron nudged his head as an order for him to come over, a gesture that had Teddy on his feet in a heartbeat, making his way to your table and gussying himself up. 

“You see, ‘ere, dear Duchess, I’m not your fuckin’ babysitter. Got better things to do, so this…” Ron gave a firm slap on Teddy’s backside, cueing a child-like giggle from Teddy, “...is my gift to you.” 

“You like ‘im, don’t you?” Ron frowned slightly at your scoff of a response which was prompted upon seeing the pompous grin Teddy had plastered across his face. Waving his hand dismissively, Ron scoffed in return, “Nah, ‘course you do. Can’t blame you — look at ‘im, he’s like a vanilla wafer, you just wanna dip in your tea, doncha?” Teddy was beaming at the compliments Ron showered him in. 

“I don’t mind, be good to get ‘im off me ‘ands for a while anyway.” Ron gave one last squeeze on Teddy’s behind before stiffly walking off, past Reggie. “I’m gonna go find me a cupcake.”

Reggie patted his brother on the shoulder as he passed. “Yeah a’right, Ron, go find yourself a cupcake.” Reggie shook his head and chuckled under his breath, “Tosser. Can’t get ‘im to pay attention to one thing for more than a minute.” 

“Alright, then.” You piped up.

“Alright, what?” Reggie looked at you.

“I’ll give a crack at it, shall I? The roulette wheel.” 

Reggie smiled, holding out his hand for you. You took it and got up from your seat, hooking arms with him as he guided you to the heart of the casino, Teddy following not far behind.

“I think you’ll find you won’t be disappointed.” Reggie let go of you, smoothing his hand around your shoulder. “Listen, love, I’d love to stay and keep you happy, but I’ve got some business to take care of. You be ‘right if Teddy kept you company?”

You bit your lip slightly, avoiding eye contact with Teddy, who peered over Reggie’s shoulder. “I suppose.”

“There’s a doll.” Reggie winked at you, nudging your chin affectionately.

Before Reggie walked off, he made sure to pass on a few words to Teddy on his way. “Ay, Teddy, listen, ‘right? You stay ‘ere. If she ain’t tipping her head back with joy within the ‘our…”, was all you could manage to hear. You let yourself look at the two men. Teddy nodded along to the stream of instructions Reggie whispered in his ear, his smirk etching wider, his eyes dancing up and down at you.

“I’ve got it, Reg. Don’t worry.” Teddy nodded, his eyes trained on you. Reggie excused himself once more before disappearing.

You turned your head back to the roulette table, occupying yourself with watching the wheel spin. “Don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself there, Duchess.” Teddy’s voice piped up, as he stood beside you.

“‘fraid I’m not.” You responded dryly. 

“You could do us a favour and fake it, eh?”

“Never been quite good at fakin’ it.”

“What you doin’ in a bloody casino, then?”

Teddy scoffed when you didn’t counter a response. He turned, leaning his face near yours, beckoning you to look at him. “Come on, how ‘bout a smile for ol’ Teddy Bear, eh?”

“Fuck off.” You didn’t budge. 

“Don’t act all coy, now, babes.” He kept leaning in and arching his head in attempts to make you face him. He was determined to break through that stoicism with an agitating persistence. “What was you thinking about before, looking a’ me like that? Back at the table.” It was already working.

You paused for a moment before countering, “What does Reg want you to do with me?”

“I asked first.” Teddy responded abruptly. “Oh sod it. I suspect both our answers are the same.”

You finally looked his way, furrowing your brows in bewilderment. What you were thinking while looking at Teddy was obvious, so Teddy implying that Reggie had asked him to do something similar was something you couldn’t understand.

Teddy shifted himself closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours as he brought his hand to the small of your back. “To put it vaguely, I’ve been told to make a spectacle ou’ of you. I think I’ve something in mind that’’ll suit all our interests, including yours.” He drew out the last word into a whisper, his breath tickling at your ear.

You stiffened at his touch in an eagerness to veil how flustered you were. “Make a spectacle, how?” 

You could feel him smirking as his lips brushed at your ear. “Could spin my fingers round your cunt like a roulette wheel.”  Teddy’s hand inched lower, smoothing around the curve of your backside, giving it a firm squeeze. You sucked in a breath as his hands dropped lower, fingertips dangling across the back of your thigh and curling around the bottom of your dress. He turned his head in a way that guided you to face the roulette wheel. You felt as Teddy began circling his fingers at the back of your thigh in perfect unison to the spinning of the roulette wheel your eyes were fixated on. 

You bit your lip trying to steady your breaths. You ripped your eyes from the wheel, the sight of its speed accompanying the growing speed of Teddy’s circling becoming unbearable. You subtly looked around behind you, surprised to see that Teddy’s overt groping hadn’t caught anyone’s attention.

“You’ve done most of the work for me, so thanks for that.” His voice beckoned you to face him, and you finally did.

You frowned at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“No need for me to warm you up. Seems like you’ve been doing that for yourself ever since you set those pretty little eyes on my fingers.” You knew exactly what he meant, though you preferred to feign oblivion, staring at him blankly. Half in a desire to continue the nonchalant act, the other half in a desire for him to seek proof. It didn’t take long until his fingers began rising up your legs from behind you, inching up your inner thigh, delicately gracing over your panties. His tongue spilled slightly from his mouth as he looked at you, coating his bottom lip in a sheen of wetness mirroring the dampness he felt through your panties. “This for me, innit?”

Your shuddering breath, coupled with you closing your eyes in bliss, was a sufficient enough response. Teddy stepped behind you, allowing more access to you while also shielding his action from that much view from others. He began stroking you through your panties, and you couldn’t help but tip your head back against his shoulder as you tried to stifle a moan.

Teddy began smoothing his other hand around your waist to your front, curling his fingers to bunch up your dress. “Let’s show everyone that dripping cunt, shall we?”

You lifted your head, grabbing Teddy’s wrists and prying his grip off you. You didn’t allow yourself a second to reconsider, as you walked up to the roulette table, helping yourself to a seat. The dealer asked if you’d be joining for this round and you nodded eagerly, trying to compose yourself and recover from Teddy’s touch.

Teddy chuckled as he took the seat beside you, turning his whole body to face you. “Hm… ‘spose I’ve gotta find another way to make a show outta you...”

As you placed your bet and waited patiently, Teddy’s hand rested on your thigh. You didn’t make an effort to remove it. It was under the tablecloth away from everyone’s view. Teddy beamed upon seeing that you didn’t even pretend to object to his advances this time. “See, now was that so ‘ard?” He chuckled. “This time, Duchess, no need to bite back them moans. Let everyone hear what a dirty littl—”

“I wasn’t moaning.” Your responses were becoming weaker and less effective after every advance he made, your tone withering in its assertiveness. 

“Oh I beg to differ. Plus, you said yourself you wasn’t that good at fakin’ it, innit?” Teddy chuckled as nothing but silence came from you, your mind too occupied trying to formulate a response while attempting to ignore Teddy’s fingers that were inching closer. Swiftly prying his way under your panties, the heat of your clit was washed by the cold of his fingertips. You breathed in a sharp gasp, gripping onto the edge of the table, trying to quiet the moan that shuddered its way out of you. Luckily, those around the roulette table and those passing, misconstrued your moans as an exclamation of anticipation as the roulette wheel spun. 

“This is in the best interest of us all.” Teddy’s voice dropped lower, and his mischievous smirk was replaced with a stormy eagerness in his eyes. His fingers were moving at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“How exactly is this in the Krays’ best interest?” You were surprised you were composed enough to speak again.

Teddy circled your clit, resting his chin on the palm of his other hand as his elbow propped up on the table. That cocky grin returned. “You can pawn off those pathetic moans as excitement for the game.”

“That’s…” 

“Clever, eh?” He let out a light giggle.

You wanted to frown, but your mouth hung open at the feel of his fingers working at your core. “Allow me to offer an example.” Teddy began delving his fingers inside you, your arousal that pooled a while ago allowed seamless access, as he abruptly curled his fingers harshly without warning. You yelped loudly, coincidentally in unison to the cheers coming from the aristocrats surrounding the roulette table, who watched as the dolly was placed on their winning numbers. Teddy spat out an obnoxious chuckle amused at the timing. “Ha! That was too good!”

You scowled at him. “You’re a little shit.”

Teddy quirked an eyebrow at you. “Sorry, what was that, darling?”

“I said— ah!” You moaned loudly, as Teddy picked up his pace, massaging deep inside your walls thoroughly. No doubt, the attention of everyone round the table was caught, so you disguised the moan as a triumphant cheer, smiling through it. The dealer made a humorous comment on your cheer of victory as he swept away the losing bets and made payouts to the winners including you.

The dealer asked if you were up to make new bets, though too distracted by Teddy who had kept his pace steady, you hummed. 

“Is that a yes, miss?” The dealer frowned at you confused.

“Y-Yes…” You found yourself gasping as Teddy picked up his speed. “God, yes!”

Everyone chuckled at your enthusiasm, interpreting it as anticipation towards a winning streak. To your mercy, Teddy stopped. Though to your disappointment, he drew his fingers back from you, adjusting your panties back on and removing his hand from you. You hated the whine that escaped you from the absence of his touch. 

You steadied your breaths. You didn’t have time to process what had happened, as everyone was waiting for you to place your bet. Doing so in a hurry, you had knocked some of your own table chips off the table. You cursed under your breath, urging yourself to calm down. Before you could reach down to grab the table chips, Teddy stopped you.

“Allow me.” Teddy smirked and waggled his eyebrows at you.

Your eyes widened, but before you could object, Teddy was already diving underneath tablecloth under the guise of collecting the chips. Somehow without arousing any attention from anyone else, he didn’t return back out from under there.

The roulette wheel was spinning again, and you bit your lip at what was to follow. Keeping your eyes trained on the wheel, you felt Teddy’s fingers begin smoothing up your legs again. He gripped each one hard, lifting them over each of his shoulders. In a swift motion, he grabbed the legs of your chair, pulling you in hastily towards him, your stomach pressed against the edge of the table. Your body jerked forward, your core meeting with his mouth forcefully. Your fingers were gripping hard onto your table chips, the feel of Teddy’s tongue through your panties driving you insane. 

It was as if Teddy read your mind when his fingers dug underneath the elastic of your panties, pulling harshly until they tore off, the cold air of the casino greeting your bare center. Teddy’s tongue ran the length of you, his voice humming, a rush of vibration running through you. A few thorough sucks of your clit made you bang your fist against the table. “Fuck!”, you exclaimed. As luck would have it, you were losing your bet in the game and your exclamation was interpreted as one of disappointment. 

Your body stiffened. You had to be more cautious. Those first few times were just luck, your next rush of pleasure may not coincide with a moment to cheer or exclaim in frustration about, in the game. Teddy could sense this hesitance from under the table and gave a harsh playful bite at your inner thigh.

You bit your lip to stifle a gasp, and instead clenched your thighs around his head and squeezed as a means to chide him. Though he groaned in slight pain, it only cued another vibration from his voice to surge through you. Feeling a dose of impulsiveness, you wrapped your legs tighter around his neck pulling him back to your core.

Taken aback, Teddy nuzzled against your clit again. You could feel a smirk begin to etch across his face again and you raised an eyebrow curious what was to follow. Teddy delved his tongue deep inside you, turning his head in a way that buried his nose against your clit while his tongue made work against your walls. Your breaths became out of sync with his, as you began bucking your hips around for deeper contact. Your movements were thankfully disguised as a bouncing of impatience by the surrounding people.  

You tipped your head back in pleasure, though as you looked up, you saw Reggie. He took one look at you and fluttered his eyes down, grinning to himself. Teddy must’ve done exactly as he was instructed. You furrowed your brows at Reggie, who greeted your stare with a mockingly innocent raise of his eyebrows, before moving along and disappearing into the crowd. You chided yourself for thinking you had the Krays wrapped around your finger. You had your fun thinking they were worrying over your enjoyment at the casino, all the while they were certain that they could ensure you were having a great time, and profiting off your endorsement while making a fool out of you.

The roulette wheel took its last spin, when you found yourself on the brink of release. Teddy was merciless, not allowing your growing sensitivity to hinder his speed. “Oh… oh… oh…” Your gasps and moans grew louder, coinciding with the slowing speed of the wheel as everyone looked to see where the ball would land.

A loud wave of cheers from everyone took over, as you let out a long moan, Teddy removing his face just in time for your release to drip down your legs. Your breaths grew heavy and quick, your core sore and your head weak from a violent rush of pleasure. You didn’t care that you had won yet another bet. All you wanted was Teddy to lick you clean of the mess he caused between your thighs, before you’d pull him back up from under the table forcing him in a heated kiss. Despite your hunger for him being satiated, you still wanted more. And you hated it. He made a spectacle out of you, and not only did you oblige, but you couldn’t get enough of it.

Before you could allow Teddy to coax anything more from you, you got up from the table, retreating quickly. Paying no mind to the cold rush between your legs, your release dripping down you, you briskly made your way to the stairs leading out the casino. You picked up your pace upon hearing a set of footsteps catching up behind you, but you were too late.

“Not so fast, love.” You gasped as a pair of arms reached around you aggressively. Teddy pulled you flush against him, his teeth grazing against your ear as he whispered, “I’m not finished with you.”

You turned your head slightly to face him, almost moaning at the sight of your juices lingering on his lips. “I’m to make spectacle outta you, ‘member?”

Still weak and disoriented, you muttered. “Reggie seemed pleased with you. Your job is done.”

“Oh, I’ve done that first part for the Krays, sure. This is for me.” He grinned. 

You greeted this with a confused frown. “You’ve no interest in me. I was just a job for you and when I’m not that, I’m just something you love goading to arouse your damn ego.”

“You’re exactly right, darling.” That stupid hope you felt that he would argue against the notion of you meaning nothing to him, was shot down in a heartbeat. His apathetic, blunt tone nearly sparking a rise out of you. “Nothing gets my cock harder than being revered. Being in dear Ronnie’s shadow all the time, I don’t get revered often, y’see...” Teddy grinned against the back of your neck, his breath steaming your tender spot. It took everything in your strength to refrain from shivering at the sensation. 

“Now, you… You are no stranger to it…” Teddy’s hands ran its way up your body, feeling up your curves before pulling you even closer against him, his fingers grasping around your breasts. “If people saw me parading the Duchess of Haggerston around the casino... her letting out those pitiful moans ‘cause of me, cum dripping out her cunt and down her legs ‘cause of me… the stares I’d get… I could wank to that prestige for a whole bloody year.”

You pulled Teddy’s arms off you, turning around to face him and shooting him a brutal glare. Your eyes flickered down, spotting your panties blatantly hanging out the breast pocket of his blazer. He followed your eyes, grinning smugly at the panties, as if it was a medal of honour he wanted to flash proudly. “You’re psychotic, Teddy.”

“Do you object, Duchess?” He flashed a smile. You hated how confident he was, how sure he was that he had you wrapped around his finger. 

You felt a heat rising within you. Whether it was in a rage at Teddy’s intentions to humiliate you to arouse his ego, or in a reluctance to acknowledge the desire for him that still remained, it grew unbearable. You could feel everyone’s eyes on both of you. Your eyes glanced down at Teddy’s lips, and he lifted his head daring you to proceed with what you’ve been pining for since the moment you set eyes on him. 

With everyone looking, it would earn him the kind of attention that could supposedly make his cock hard, but for you, it was a mere case of quenching the mad desire to taste as much of him as you could. You knew by kissing him, he’d of won, and you would’ve surrendered your dignity all for a mobster’s boy toy.

“Fuck it.” You hissed sharply before tugging Teddy’s tie, forcing his lips against yours. You kissed him feverishly, desperate to savour the taste of him and the taste of yourself that still remained on his lips, paying no mind to the stares that burned your way. 

After all those times you would bear witness to ‘Mad’ Teddy Smith being nothing more than Ronald Kray’s toy, it seemed it was time Teddy was granted a toy of his own.