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asumofwords · 1 year ago

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello angels! Here is another chapter! I did end up splitting it though because it was getting way too long and its my birthday this week so I may not be able to update as much as I would like to because I will be busy with friends and family! Anyways, thanks for all the love as per usual!!! I hope you enjoy <3

Chapter 66: Tides

Tides are something that are never sure.

You could never truly anticipate their movements, whether they would rise quickly or slowly, dragging the oceans swell up the rocks of the shore. Some men could argue that they could foretell the next drag of the sea, determined by the moons waxing or waning. But those men were fools, for the ocean has more than just the skies that guide it. Storms and winds, creatures, and Gods all have a say in what the frigid waters will do.

With each push and pull of the waves came your salvation. With every waxing and waning moon, came your deliverance. People were often like tides themselves, changing each and everyday, with no discernible pattern.

As is knowledge and power.

Power was something that morphed and contorted, bending to whoever’s will was strongest, but even they could not hold that raw force for long. For power would never truly bend, just as the tides would never stay the same.

Always changing.

Always moving.

Always fluid.

Like you.

In the past year, you had changed and just like the tides, morphed and been bent, contorted and swelled, rose and fallen. A metamorphosis like the insects Helaena had always loved. And yet with each passing day, you feel your own tides within, pulling and pushing you. It weighed heavily on your mind, dragging you down beneath the waves, ripping the breath from your lungs as you felt yourself drowning in the torrent.

The task you had been given was no ordinary feat, and if it were anybody else, they would have surely broken by now. Given up, and played their hand too early. Raised a white flag and uttered ‘I surrender’. But you could not give up. You could only give in. And that was a distinction that you continually reminded yourself of.

You were not giving up.

You were giving in.

Giving in to the pressures of a man you were cursed to lay with. Giving in to the role you had said you would play. Giving in to the actions you so desperately wished to avoid, in order to protect yourself.

To give yourself more time.

To not be a steadfast fool and show your hand to the vipers you nested with. If you acted too quickly, they would smell a plot, and any little freedom you had been given would be swiped up, and the reality of death would be far sweeter.

Though every fibre of your being screamed at you to hurt them, to maim them, to act quickly, and keenly with the blade of your mind that you had been sharpening each night since the usurpation, but you knew that it would be foolish. A plot played out too quickly and stupidly. Any fool could have seen that. A patient mind would get you to better results, and you had to a game to play.

Wait and see.

Wait and listen.

Wait and deliver justice with a swift hand and a sharp mind.

If you were to follow your desires, to follow the screaming voice which called at you in your dreams, the whispers of Lucerys and Helaena echoing behind it, you would fail, and all of this would be for naught. Your mother would lose everything, and you would lose your life.

The Greens needed to think you were broken, complacent, tired, and troubled, but not too much so. If you were to bend the knee and submit entirely, Alicent and her enablers would know something was afoot. And so you had to play the dangerous game of waxing and waning, pushing and pulling, listening and waiting, until the time was right.

Until the time you could call upon the Gods to give you your strength and deliver a raven requesting star fruit.

But for now, you had to wait.

It was not giving up, it was giving in.

A distinction in which meant life or death.

If you were the tides, then Aemond was your moon. Your temperament depended on the weather that he would bring. Would it be rain? A torrential downpour that seeped into your pores? The water rising until you drowned in it?

Or would he leave you high and dry. A sudden drought that had you thirsting for more, itching for more. Scratching at the earth in search of something, anything, to sustain your frail body, withering in the burning heat and loss of your own essence. Your own being. The very core of who you were.

Or perhaps he would be a lovely summers day.

One where you may bask in the warmth of his light, and feel the soft rays kiss upon your skin, his breath on your face lingering far longer than the storms he would bring. You would forget, for a moment, to give yourself peace, that he had brought any storms at all. That he was not a man who changed with each day, that he was not a man who had brought such destruction.

If not for the sake of the crown, then for the sake of your sanity.

Or would he freeze you out and let his bitter frost nip at your fingers and toes?

Would his passion burn you like dragon fire? Melting your body into his with every touch.

It was inevitable, inescapable, unavoidable.

Like how the sun slips behind the mountain tops, darkness blanketing the valley below, but you know that it will rise on the morrow. Just how the creatures in the trees and on the ground know, that as the darkness passes, the sun will shine again.

But it is more of a question of not if, but when.

When would it pass?

When will it pass?

The tides come and go with the moon, pushing you away from your desires and pulling you back roughly, dragging you over the jagged rocks and reefs, their sharp edges cutting through you. The tides rage with the storms but they will always rescind back to calm.

Aemond was the moon, and you were the tides, and he predicted and controlled your rise and fall, just how you have grown to predict the uncertainty ahead.

There is only one guarantee in your life, and that is not knowing what is next.

And so you must build yourself a ship, to sit atop the tides, to sail over them with their swell and recession, rather than succumbing to it and sinking into the waves. You needed to be smart, you needed to be patient.

You needed to wait.

What knowledge could you surely give your family to help them? That Aemond resents his brother still, and that the Maester was an ally? But is that all?

That was knowledge that you knew before you were wed to him.

You could not offer that as a sign to strike. For your family to come forth, dragons and fire, for the same standing as you had before. A standstill. Feet stuck in the dirt on even playing grounds, except you had no access to Vermithor. And so the hill sloped upwards towards the Greens.

And so you had to wait.

A letter arrived some few days later from your family, asking for your wellbeing and updating you on theirs. It was comforting to know that you still had some form of contact, and when you had asked Aemond if you were to fly to witness Jacaerys’ union to Baela, he had hummed and given you a non-answer.

You had written back to them and gave them the answer that you had recieved, a shaky maybe to your presence. A subtle, no. No absolute yes. It was all that you could give for the time being, and you would bite your tongue, lest he gouge it out with his talons.

One morning when the maids were readying you for another day by the sea, you had gazed at yourself in the mirror, far more than you had previously, and noticed a change in your appearance. Though the weight you had lost due to your arrival and the subsequent events had come back, there was a hollowness to your eyes.

Your smiles never quite reached them, and the once vibrant violet looked almost dull and murky, as if beneath waters or behind storm clouds. A darker shade sat on the skin beneath them, making them appear almost hollow, but even still, your cheeks held colour, and your lips were less bitten and raw than they had been.

Even your fingers had been given a lull in the usual assault your teeth or nails would give them.

But your eyes were something you could not look away from.

As the girls brushed your hair, you stared at yourself.

Who was she?

She looked like you, but was she really you?

But it was you. And you had changed.

And you would remind yourself of this.

Aemond had spent most of his days with Aegon and the small council, working with them with tasks for the realm, and then bringing his scrolls and tomes back to the chambers, his sharp nose in a book almost each and every night.

After you had last spoken, after he had last told you of this so-called prophecy, there was a shift between the both of you. A stand still of your own. You were in the eye of the storm. The eye of his storm. The winds and rains had stopped, and the sky had opened up to show light. A path out. A way up.

Just as Lucerys had thought he had found.

You anticipated the moment when Aemond would surge up through the clouds and swallow you whole.

You would not tempt him.

That afternoon, you had spent much of your time walking through the garden, looking at the various plants and flowers. You stopped your steps as you looked at a bright purple patch of flowers. It stood on a long stalk with fingerlike leaves, five points to each one, as it stood straight and tall. The flower itself looked almost bell shaped, or perhaps like a hood that a monk from the Sept may wear.

Its appearance alone screamed danger. Natures own warning.

It looked familiar, and you made a note to yourself to look in the library for a tome on florilegium.

When you had returned to your chambers that evening, Aemond was sitting at the table, bent over a particularly large black tome, sharp nose pointed down to the page. He had hummed a greeting to you, not lifting his eye from the script as you entered.

He had not touched you since that night, spending most evenings hunched over the table with piles of parchment and tomes, writing and reading beneath candlelight well into the darkness. You would retire to bed, expecting him to follow you, but he would not, continuing to write and read, shuffle papers and hum to himself softly.

It was an oddly calming sound, a background noise of assurance that his attention would not be on you.

When you had asked him what he was doing, he had told you that Aegon had given him much work to do, and would be spending most evenings like that.

But what had surprised you most was that he had apologised to you about it.

“I’m sorry that I am not more present. Aegon has given me things that he should be doing, but if I don’t, no-one will, and the realm will dissolve into chaos.” He had grumbled beneath his breath, as you stood beside him, looking at his messy script.

You had told him you understood, and went to bed quietly and fell quickly into sleep. But this evening was different, and when he had greeted you with a short hum, you had expected yet another evening dining together on a table which had scrolls and tomes hurriedly shoved to the side to make room for the plates. An evening of his writing lulling you to sleep.

Instead, you sat yourself by the fire, thinking of the flower you had saw in the gardens. It was so familiar to you. You could have sworn you had read about it somewhere, or had been told about it. But nothing could spring to mind.

Was it Hooded-Trumpet? Angels Locks?

What was it called?

“What are you thinking of?” Aemond’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Some flowers I saw in the garden, I have forgotten their names.”

“Hm, one of the Septa’s could tell you.”

If you were to ask them, and it turned out to be poison, they would know of your plotting and report you to the King.

“It will come to me, I am sure.” You replied, tongue in cheek as you thought hard.

“We are to dine with the King again.”

You sighed loudly into the chambers, turning to look at Aemond who was placing his quill in its holder, gathering the loose pieces of parchment in hand to stack them into a pile atop the open page of the tome.

“Must we?”

“We must.” Aemond replied, popping the ’t’ at the end as if he too was dreading the evening.

“Can we not dine here?”

“The King has requested our presence.”

There was the tide again.

“You are more and more a Prince Regent by the day with Aegon too busy in his cups and whores.”

You were testing the waters.

“It is my duty.”

“Is it not his duty to rule the realm, and listen to the people? Is it not his duty to read tomes, and write letters?” You pushed.

Aemond was silent, his eye rising to your face as he looked at you beneath his brow.

A silent warning.

You bowed your head and stood, looking out at the water. The sun had lowered behind the horizon and the chambers began to darken. The tides would shift, you just did not know when.

Aemond came to stand beside you, looking out at the water. The smell of sandalwood and leather curled around you.

It was a familiar smell, and something that you had grown to like. Something you had grown to anticipate wherever you were. The occasional waft of his scent curling up from your dresses, when you would enter the chambers, or when he was nearby. Sometimes you would smell it in the gardens, and you would turn your head to look for him, but he was never there.

“When is my nephew to be wed?” Aemond asked, eye still on the ocean.

You turned your head to look up at him, almost in shock.

Was this his answer?

“Soon I believe. They had written to ask again if we would be attending.”

Aemond hummed.

“Should I write to tell them to expect us?”

“No.”

Aemond turned on his foot to pour himself, and you, some wine, coming back over to hand you your goblet. You did not grasp it as you looked at him.

Aemond pursed his lips as he sipped from his own cup, still holding yours out to you, which you eventually took from him, bringing to your own lips as you looked back out at the water.

“The King will not allow it. I have already asked.”

Fuck the King.

You nodded your head and stayed side by side until you had both finished your wine, and the had knight come to the door to escort you to the dining hall. You were still taken back that Aemond had asked for you to go. Even if it was escorted by he himself, but still, he had tried. And Aegon had said no.

You sat in the seats that you always did, with Aegon opposite you, and Alicent and Otto on either side of him, whilst the rest of the council filled the empty chairs. The food was placed upon the table and Alicent spoke a small prayer to the Seven.

You often wondered what she prayed for when alone, did she pray for vengeance? Penance?

The council had seemed to grow more relaxed around your presence, as though they were finally accustomed to you being there, or they were assured that you would not be a threat. Larys spoke of whispers with no meaning and even offered to go on a walk with you again. You had responded politely and said that you would surely take him up on his offer.

The night continued with conversations that held no interest to you, and so you listened in to words here and there, hoping to hear something, anything of use.

Your patience was rewarded.

“There is some troubles down in Flea Bottom, but nothing our guards and knights cannot handle.”

Your ears pricked up.

Trouble in Flea Bottom?

You reached to grasp your goblet of wine, feigning that you had not heard Lord Wylde speaking to Grand Maester Orwyle.

Orwyle was a Maester who had served your Grandsire, and turned cloak against your mother. He was an old man, with dark skin, and eyes blacker than coal. In his youth he could have been a handsome man, but now his hair had receded, and his years on earth had wrinkled him.

Otto and Alicent spoke across the table to Aemond with Aegon, and you strained to listen to the other two whispering.

“…Rhaenyra…if she…supporters…laws…”

Your name pulled you from your eavesdropping.

“I asked how it is to have your husband back.” Aegon smirked, cheeks flushed from wine and crown crooked on his head.

His hair looked unkempt, unbrushed and oily, tucked behind his ears and out of his face, with smaller strands that had escaped crossed over his forehead. For once, his coat was buttoned up to the top, coming just under his chin, high on his neck.

It looked as though the coat was holding his head upright.

“A relief, though he spends most of his time reading and writing the nights away. I fear I have lost him to the book.”

“Aemond you must find time to rest.” Alicent softly cooed, head tilted as her hands came together in front of her, elbows on the table. Maternal instincts alight.

Here was your in.

“I have told him to no avail.” You began, looking at Aemond before back at Alicent, “He rarely comes to bed, and spends much of his time hunched over the table by candlelight for all hours of the night.”

Aemond hummed beside you, “Merely performing my duties.”

“Are they your duties, or the Kings?” You questioned.

“My duties?” Aegon cocked his head to the side, looking at you, “Do you question my rule?”

Otto shifted, and you saw Larys lean into the conversation.

“I merely question if my Lord Husband should be burdened with playing the role of Prince Regent without the title.”

Aegon laughed angrily, pushing his tongue into his cheek as he looked at the both of you.

“Is this because he is now too busy to warm your bed? Do you sit and wait for him wanting as he neglects your needs?”

Heat rose in your cheeks.

“Aegon.” Aemond said lowly.

“Merely a question.” Aegon leant back in his chair, the one larger than the rest, “Is your cunny missing my brothers cock?”

“You are a spineless little worm.” You sneered, leaning forward towards the table.

“Tell your whore to watch her tongue.”

The sound of a chair scraping the floor cut across the room as Aemond jumped from his seat, watching Aegon like a hawk. His brow was drawn and eye narrowed, jaw set tightly into a line as he clenched his teeth.

Aegon however, looked up at his younger brother in vicious delight.

“Aemond.” Alicent uttered, desperate to cool the mans temper and ease the tension.

The King laughed.

Aemond breathed heavily, and you craned your neck to look up at your husband as he towered over the table, hands bawled into tight fists at his side. His knuckles turned white and you watched as he shifted on his feet, one inching to move behind him.

A fighting stance.

“All in good jest, brother. No need to get your breeches in a knot.” Aegon smiled cruelly.

You whispered to your husband, looking up at him as he did not take his heated gaze away from Aegon.

“Besides,” Aegon continued, tone teasing, “We all know that her mother is the Whore Queen…Perhaps her blood runs thick in your wife.”

You dug your nails into your palm and stared at Aegon.

Would he be able to scream if you dug out his throat with your hands?

“Say it again.” Aemond growled quietly, looking at his brother.

“Enough.” Alicent commanded, looking between her two sons.

Aegon lifted his hands in mock surrender, but Aemond still did not seat himself, standing impossibly stiff as he kept his gaze on the King.

“Sit.” Aegon smirked.

Aemond did not.

“Your King commands you.” Aegon grinned, watching as Aemond’s face twitched, and moved slowly to sit back down in his seat, hands on his lap as his fingers dug into the flesh of his thighs.

“Aemond.” You whispered again, and yet the Prince would not take his brother from his sight, staring at him like a predator waiting to pounce.

You pulled one of his hands from his lap, holding it in both of yours as you began to lift it. Aemond’s head turned, taking his eye from Aegon for one moment to look at you. You brought his hand up to your lips, calloused and scarred, fingers warm but stiff, and placed a soft kiss to his knuckles. Trying to soothe him.

Trying to soothe the storm that brewed.

A puff of air left Aemond’s nose as he looked at you, and his fingers squeezed your own. You let a tiny smile grace your lips, an assurance that it was okay, an assurance that you were fine, that he was fine, and released his hand.

For the remainder of the night, you and Aemond both ate in silence before excusing yourself to your chambers. Alicent and Larys watched you both closely as you looked up at Aemond to see if he was to turn back around and slide a knife between Aegon’s eyes.

He didn’t.

The walk back was tense but not in a way that you were used to. This time, Aemond’s animosity was not pointed towards you, and instead his brother. For once, you did not fear this anger.

You realised that Aemond could help you.

You needed to get him to help you.

You needed to convince him that you loved him.

When you entered the chambers, Aemond barely said a word, looking at the pile of parchment on the table waiting for him, but moved to pour himself some wine at the side of the room. He had sat at the fire and drank, and you had joined him, allowing him to his thoughts and you to yours.

Aemond could be swayed to you.

He could.

You needed to use his hatred towards his brother carefully.

Like a cleverly spun web, it needed to have no faults, and needed to be made with precision.

What was the name of that flower you had seen?

Wolfshood? Snakebean? Bells of Triumph?

The maids came to ready you for the evening, and once you were in your chemise, and your hair had been released from its braids and brushed loosely down your back, you had made your way to bed, watching as your husband moved to sit back at the table to continue his writing and reading.

A man truly dedicated to his duty.

“Aemond.” You called out to him softly, sitting up in your shared bed.

The light of the chambers was low, and only few candles were lit, most of the light coming from the dwindling fireplace. Aemond looked up to see you, a vision of beauty, all soft and Valyrian, silver hair warmed by the light of the fire, and eyes sparkling in the dark.

“The hour is late.”

Aemond continued to stare at you, stood beside the table which demanded his attention, but as did his wife.

“Come to bed.” You cooed, reaching over to pull the sheets back on his side.

Aemond looked at you and then down the the table beside him. Eye roaming over the tomes and parchment, piles of scrolls with ink pots and quills. A large candle sat in the middle of the table, its flame flickering and dancing, wax slowly melting down its sides.

In a split decision, Aemond leant forward and blew out the candle on the table, making his way across the room to crawl into bed beside you.

He came when you had asked him.

The heat of his body radiated beside you as he moved to blow out the candles surrounding the bed, his long hair laying down his back, brushed and silky, tickled your shoulder as he leant over you.

Darkness covered the chambers and you settled into the pillows beside him, laying on your back as you blinked in the dark up at the ceiling. Aemond did the same, the both of you lost to your own thoughts and worries.

As sleep slowly began to pull you under, a name popped into your mind.

Monkshood. Wolfsbane.

You had to hold back your grin.

You knew you had recognised the tall plant.

You hummed a tune inside your head, a song the Septa had sung once, long, long ago, in the gardens when you were young, and Lucerys was only three, and she had warned you of plants to not touch and just see.

Monkshood, Wolfsbane, Devils Helmut, three,

Five fingered leaves with sharp teeth on me.

Beware my root, my stem, my leaves,

My pretty head of flowers tease.

A seed or petal, a touch or sip, will leave a man without his wit.

Within the hour, a day or so, my poison reaps what has been sowed.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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yukittywrites · 1 year ago

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I Want to Feel You Near~

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙

warnings: dom reader and sub taeyong, dom reader and sub yuta, toys, exhibitionism, semi-public sex (im talking in the dorms but in front of the members), mild masochistic yuta, a little bit of degradation but its mild!

word count: 3k Read the full story (12.7k) here!

a/n: this is my first time ever converting a story into y/n im sorry if its a little stilted i usually write mlm! also reader is gender neutral, no mention of their genitals whatsoever to make sure people arent uncomfy. also no mention of skin tone/identifying features.

You loved all the 127 boys, they were all perfect in their own rights, whether you were fucking them or getting fucked by them, whether they were a sub or dom, kinky or not, you loved them all.

Of course, you treated them all differently accordingly, and the person you were always the most hesitant with was Yuta. It was no secret amongst all of you that he was constantly switching between dominant and submissive, topping or bottoming, even his interest in sex at all would wax and wane.

So you always made sure you could cater to his current needs—and that he felt comfortable with sex at all—before you ever engaged in anything with him.

But, when Yuta was in the mood, after that initial conversation, you could go as crazy with him as you wanted. Yuta was down for it all, anything you could give, he would take it gladly, and his desire to please alongside his obvious kinkiness was so perfect for you that you could never help yourself.

Taeyong, contrastly, was always a set constant. He was a sub, he loved pleasing you but he wasn't nearly as kinky. Taeyong needed praises and sweet words even alongside cruel actions, and you could provide that for him, but Yuta wanted anger. He wanted to be treated so cruelly that he sobbed, that he felt every ounce of his stress get forcibly yanked from his body.

Like you said, different but perfect all the same.

Taeyong and you together were originally thought to be the most vanilla couple within the main 127 dorm, but the boys quickly discovered through waltzing into your bedroom unannounced more than once that it was not the case.

While you could never get as kinky with him as with Yuta, Taeyong certainly was in his own right.

And those two dynamics led you to the current moment, Taeyong's lower body and your own covered under the blanket in 127's living room, both pretending to watch the movie that had been turned on, when, in reality, both of you were more focused on each other than the screen.

Your own eyes continued to watch with no problem, but Taeyong's continuously flitted around nervously, slipping closed momentarily only to reopen when your hand, slowly jerking him off up under the sheets, reaches a particularly good spot.

Taeyong risks a glance at you, and you don't even glance back at him, continuing to watch whatever was going on. It must've been the genuine indifference to his plight—or maybe the way you sped up the hand on his cock—but Taeyong's head lolls, his eyes rolling backward a little.

At that moment, Yuta laughs.

And you don't think anything of it. Honestly, maybe whatever was on screen was funny, or maybe the boys said something funny. Who knows. You weren't really paying attention.

But you see Taeyong's head snap over to look at Yuta, even through whatever pleasure he's experiencing. Whatever Yuta does in reply makes his hips cant forward, enough to be noticeable even under the blanket.

Taeyong's head comes closer to your own, and he whispers. "Yuta k-knows."

Yuta knows, and Taeyong loves it. He loves the feeling of being caught, the dirty sub that he is.

And you love the way it makes Taeyong feel, you love the power it gives you.

So, you turn your body, enough to look like repositioning, but really just turning so you can stare Yuta dead in the face as you continue your ministrations.

"You're doing so well, my pretty boy." you murmur into Taeyong's ear, and it sends his eyes rolling in his skull again.

Your hand slowly jerks at Taeyong's hard cock, looking at him directly as if to challenge him. As if to say 'do something about it, you won't.'

And Yuta won't.

He can't help the shiver that runs up his body as he looks at you and feels your dominating aura focusing on solely him. He can't believe that you're doing this, not that you're having public sex with Taeyong—honestly that's a pretty normal occurrence—but that you'd flaunt it so boldly in front of him.

He'd been in a bit of a domming period for a while, so it was strang ethat you would challenge him like this, but he couldn't lie and say that he didn't want to see what happened next, that he wanted to fight back against you.

Taeyong's head is slumped over, his body imperceptibly rocking as he undoubtedly begins to lose control, his face flushed red with arousal, embarrassment and heat.

Your hand stops on him. Yuta can tell because Taeyong's eyes fly open, his hips twitching again, silently looking at you with a plea to let him cum.

But you don't think about that right now. No, now you're thinking about Yuta. You have two boys pliant for you to toy with them, and you're going to use the situation to the fullest of your advantage.

Your lidded eyes trail down to Yuta's prominent bulge, and then back up to his eyes, which have been watching you and Taeyong ever since he caught onto your little game.

You continue to stare at him, making it clear that your goal is to make Yuta as wrecked as Taeyong is under your hands, even if you can't touch him.

You all have been watching this movie for at least an hour, and Taeyong is certainly reaching the final stages of remaining subtle while getting a handjob and being edged repeatedly. His hips keep bucking into the sheets, only lightly stopped by the leg that you've thrown over his and a sharp glare that keeps his lips parted.

But, you decide that he's had enough of a grace period. So you bring your hand back onto him. Taeyong's teeth clamp down on his lip in an effort to keep from moaning out loud, his head falling back down as he continues to get pumped in their shared living room, in front of nine different sets of eyes.

You jut your head at Yuta for Taeyong to follow the motion, and Yuta's tongue prods at his cheek in reaction to Taeyong's ruined expression.

You can't say that you don't feel the same, but you hide it better.

Taeyong's usually large bright eyes are lidded and nearly black with arousal, his cheeks redder than any blush could make them, his mind and body both crumbling.

Yuta can't stop staring at him, as though he was entranced by the scene playing out in front of him, and as if on command, you make direct eye contact with him again and you lean down into Taeyong's ear again.

"Such a patient boy for me. You can go ahead and cum, you earned it."

The second the words fall from your mouth do Taeyong's eyes roll back to fully reveal the white.

"Oh, fuck!" He whines, his voice loud and high-pitched.

You watch as Yuta bites down on a gasp, and you tear the blanket off Taeyong's legs at the same time the rest of the members turn to stare.

Taeyong's hard, red, dripping cock shoots cum all over his clothed stomach, his hips bucking wildly in the air as he gasps, breathless, seemingly losing all control of his body when he was allowed to cum.

Yuta himself can't stop staring at Taeyong's face, the wantonity of his expression, the way his mouth hangs open as he gasps, the way his eyes roll back and flutter closed.

It makes him shiver, muscles clenched to avoid cumming in his pants like a teenager at the scene.

The aftershocks of the orgasm leave Taeyong twitching and nobody dares to speak for a moment or two while Taeyong collapses into your lap, exhausted and out of breath.

"Dude... that's what they were doing? I thought Taeyong was just feeling bad," Mark says. A hum of agreeance from the rest of the group rings out.

"Pause the drama," you grin.

"Yongie wants you to watch us play today, and enjoy the view for a few minutes while I get something."

"It's too much!" Taeyong whines, grabbing at your shirt, and the breathiness in his tone makes Yuta's hard cock twitch in his pants.

Your hands grip Taeyong's face, "Colour?" you question.

Taeyong's 'green' is breathless.

"Then you'll fucking take it."

Right before you leave the living room to get your things, you looks pointedly at Yuta.

"And nobody touch what's mine while I'm gone."

But Yuta doesn't, still reeling from what he just watched.

Taeyong will use the time as a reprieve, to catch his breath from his rushing orgasm and Yuta will try to use it to psych himself up for whatever is in store when you get back, knowing he won't be able to.

The boys have all quickly abandoned the drama for the promise of a scene they'll get to watch, and Yuta had stopped paying attention twenty minutes prior.

You come back with two vibrators and lube, quickly uncapping it and pouring some onto your hand.

"I had to jerk him off dry, but my pretty slut was so horny he couldn't stop dripping, so the slide wasn't too bad."

Taeyong chokes on his spit as you wrap a lube covered hand around his sensitive cock.

"Isn't that right, Yongie? You were so turned on that they could figure out your dirty little secret at any time that you couldn't help but leak everywhere?"

"Yeah! Couldn't help it, y/n, you make me- ah! Crazy," Taeyong whines, hips rolling.

"Oh baby, I know I do."

Your hands land on the magic wand vibrator that you brought, turning it on the first setting and pressing it to the base of Taeyong's cock.

Taeyong's body jolts with the vibrations, whining loudly.

"Aw, Yongie, you're already dripping again," you tsk.

"Sorry, 'm sorry, y/n. It just feels so good!" Taeyong babbles, his hand gripping onto your arm.

"Oh no, baby, don't apologise to me, apologise to them." You say, gesturing around.

"Just look at what you've done to poor Mark"

Taeyong glances around to find Mark, only to catch him with his head tilted back, Johnny's hand languidly stroking him under his pants.

"Jaehyun too." he smirks.

Jaehyun who's got his hand down his own pants.

And now, your chance to toy with your other boy.

"Of course, let's not forget about you, Yuta. Your cock has been hard in your pants for the better part of thirty minutes. You just sat there hard, watching me play with my pretty boy without saying anything like a good bitch."

Yuta scoffs in reply, but it comes out weaker than he intended for it to.

"Look, Yongie, you made him so hard." you murmur, wand still pressed to Taeyong's cock, who lolls his head over and smiles. "'m glad, glad to please you, Yuta."

Yuta smirks, the same one he does when he's domming, but you won't let him gain back his confidence in those abilities so quickly.

"Or maybe it was me, hmm? Me staring at you as I jerked Yongie off because I knew you wouldn't dare say anything?"

"Don't flatter yourself." Yuta bites back, unconvincing to his own ears.

"I don't need to flatter myself, I know it's true. You think we don't know your tells by now? You think that we can't tell when you want to dom and when you want to sub? You may be a good actor, Yuta, but you aren't that good."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe instead of antagonising me, you could put that focus on your slut. He looks like he's about to pass out." Yuta replies back, a pretty desperate attempt to avoid the conversation.

You passively glance back over at Taeyong, moving the vibrator up and down his shaft, revelling in his gorgeous moans.

"Oh please, he's perfectly fine. He's taken worse, and I'm a good multi-tasker."

"Shut up, y/n." Yuta dismisses, looking to dodge whatever you're plotting to yank him full force into the subspace that he's been oscillating in and out of.

"Is that the Nakamoto Yuta backing down from a challenge?" You grin, moving the vibrator closer to the head of Taeyong's cock.

"Y/n!" Taeyong damn near squeals, and it makes Yuta's breath noticeably hitch.

"You're only backing down because you know you'll lose if you keep going, isn't that right, Yuta?" you ask.

He scoffs again, rolling his eyes, "Maybe I'm backing down because I want to watch the show in peace and enjoy myself?"

"Yeah, just like you were when the movie was playing? When you kept locking eyes with me and practically withering under my gaze from across the room? Just like the way you tried so hard to maintain eye contact earlier and broke it because you couldn't?"

Yuta feels breathless, out of his element. He wasn't prepared for you to get deep enough in his headspace to call him out like this, he wasn't really prepared to start feeling subby when he caught the two of them under the blanket. He's been hard for too long and he wants to touch himself like the rest of the members are doing but he knows that the second he touches himself he'll lose the already slipping control of the situation.

The vibrator reaches Taeyong's cockhead and within a second he's already stuttering. "Y/n! Can't— I-I'm close, going— need-"

"It's fine, go ahead and cum for me, love." You permit, watching as Taeyong's legs lock up and begin to spasm, pretty cries falling from his lips with pleasure, blending in with Jaehyun's groan as he cums simultaneously.

He looks so pretty, so wrecked between the two intense orgasms he had, seeming now as if he's half floating with pleasure and it makes Yuta long for that same feeling.

You and him are the only ones who haven't touched yourselves since this whole thing started and you can tell that Yuta wants nothing more to feel the same sort of ecstasy that is crashing through Taeyong's body, the feeling that comes from being toyed with for so long and finally getting to experience that ear ringing orgasm.

He gulps and clenches his fist into the side of his sweatpants.

When Taeyong is done, you click the vibrator off.

"Can I take care of Yuta for a moment, baby?" you question him lowly, always ready to give the option of immediate aftercare to Taeyong, Yuta be damned, but he nods, and then slumps again to catch his breath.

With that, your unwavering attention is back on Yuta, walking closer to his spot on the couch adjacent to you.

"You're lying to me, Yuta. Just admit it, just say that you're slipping into subspace, that you don't want to challenge me."

"I'm not admitting shit, because it's not true."

"Yuta, for someone who's an actor, you're really shitty at it right now." you lean in closer, placing your hands on the couch between Yuta's head, caging him in.

You tower over top of him in this position, you standing and Yuta sitting, his body caged in and trapped.

If he tried to stand up, it'd be so easy for you to push him back down, to keep going as though Yuta never tried to protest in the first place and god is that incredibly arousing for the both of you.

He gulps, eyes flickering all over your amused face. His cock feels rock solid in his pants, and Yuta wonders if you would jerk him off or put the vibrator on him if he caved.

"Just admit it, Yuta. You've slipped. You're not domming anyone and you know that you don't want to. You want to be toyed with until you cry you want to be fucked stupid. You're horny and you want relief, and you know what the easiest way to do that is?" You lean in far enough that your mouth is right beside Yuta's ear, and you dig your tongue into the sweet spot right below it, the one that makes Yuta clamp down on his mouth to suppress a sound which would surely spill out as a whimper or higher moan.

Then, you simply whisper, "Admitting that you want nothing more than to be a good little slut for your dom, because everyone knows that's what you are."

With that, the moan mixed whimper that Yuta worked so hard to bite back spills from his mouth, and you pull back with a grin.

"There we go, Yuta. Isn't it better now that you've admitted what you want? Now say it."

Yuta wouldn't, not to everyone. Not when he'd fought back with you so much about not feeling like a sub, not when he'd outright denied it so many times. It would be embarrassing and humiliating to give in to what you told him he was with such ease and— fuck, all of that sounded incredibly hot. Curse his humiliation kink.

You roll your eyes, grabbing Yuta's chin between your tumb and pointer fingers and pull him up from the couch, bringing your faces close.

"Say. It." You demand.

The words spill from Yuta's mouth unwillingly, "I want to be good."

You weaken the grip on his chin, but hum nonetheless, clearly prompting him to say it louder.

Well, it was obvious that he'd cracked anyways, Yuta reasons.

So louder, loud enough for the room to hear, he repeats "I want to be a good sub for you, y/n."

His voice comes out whiny, though it's only a bit higher than usual.

"That's a good boy," you smile, and you push Yuta with both of your hands back onto the couch.

"I'll ruin you just like I did Taeyong, you slut." You coo, and Yuta whimpers, eyes casting around the room.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time, even tonight that the other boys had gotten a great view, and he would be the best show.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙

Again: read the full story here!

#dom!reader #nct smut #sub!nct #nct 127 smut #sub!kpop #sub!idol #kpop smut #yuta smut #taeyong smut #sub yuta #nakamoto yuta #lee taeyong #nct #nct drabbles #yuta drabble #nct yuta #gender neutral reader

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crustaceousfaggot · 6 months ago

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The last time I cosplayed Henry Jekyll from the Glass Scientists was in 2020. Back then I was still closeted, and called it a genderbent cosplay.

Tgs has been in my life since 2018. I started it in 8th grade, and I'm now enrolled in university. It's probably the longest I've ever consistently kept up with a piece of media in my life. Things happen and life changes, but every Monday I can count on a new tgs page. My interest has waxed and waned, but it's always been there.

Anyways. That's all to say - I'm happy to be able to cosplay this character I love again, in a way that feels right to me.

My old 2020 cosplay is below the cut, for comparison purposes :)

#tgs #the glass scientists #tgs jekyll #tgs henry jekyll #henry jekyll #jekyll and hyde #cosplay #my art #makeup tag

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strawberrystepmom · 4 months ago

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sometimes I feel like I'm doing sex wrong cause the way you describe it is just... not my experience at all. and it makes me feel like I'm broken, like being on SSRIs for several years fucked me over :(

come sit with me, sweetheart

let me start by saying you are not broken in any way whatsoever. sex is personal by every definition of the word. your preferences, your pleasure, your interest. it can wax and wane over time. it can evolve. you can feel like a forest fire or a flickering candle, there is no right or wrong way to feel or experience sex or sexuality and you are certainly not less or broken or bad for needing to take medication to help you feel like yourself.

tbh with you - i am a sexual person. i enjoy sex but it wasn’t always like that. through most of my 20s i didn’t hate sex but didn’t find it fun, the mind numbing pleasure everyone described never really happened for me. yes i was also taking an ssri/hormonal birth control which can impact sex drive but at some point i realized something - i wasn’t thinking of sex in relation to myself and what it meant to me, i was simply performing for someone else.

so i started from scratch around 25: what did i like? what didn’t i like? what were my actual fantasies outside of the porn i thought i was supposed to like? how did i want to be touched, seen, perceived?

this self exploration changed my life and it was done completely independent of another person. sex became mine again, something meant to make me feel good. i feel a lot of people neglect what they may be actually interested in because it feels like a lot to dig into especially since sex tends to be viewed as, well, performance instead of letting the mammal you are do what it wants to do most and that’s experience things that feel good. we want to feel good! it’s our whole reason for everything most of the time!

I highly encourage focusing on your own pleasure. masturbate and not just in the way you’ve always been told you should, feel yourself out. don’t feel ashamed of what you like bc i’ve found a lot of disappointment in sex can come from internalized shame (this used to be my issue thank u Catholicism)

and like full honesty i write about highly idealized versions of sex meant for fantasy on here. i’m not gonna say i don’t borrow from irl experiences bc i do and what i write about is always about my preferences but fantasy and reality often differ. sometimes irl sex isn’t magical, sometimes it’s just release, sometimes it just doesn’t hit and dropping the expectation that it has to every time can help quell that feeling of “what’s wrong with me?”

so let me reiterate - you are not broken, you aren’t bad, you aren’t doing anything wrong. my advice here is to reconnect with yourself sexually and go from there because you are the purveyor of your own enjoyment. it’s safe, it feels good, and it’ll help you feel empowered in the future. don’t be afraid to experiment!

#answered

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wutheringskies · 1 year ago

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Re-reading MDZS: CH 11 - 16

I'm rereading MDZS with my friend @zenenini out loud (with voice acting, it's so fun!) and here are some of our observations:

1. Wei Wuxian is such a gaslighting girlboss. The narrative is written interestingly, where firstly, we see the actions and the dialogues and only afterwards are we exposed to Wei Wuxian's thoughts - such as him sneaking out from behind "Lan Wangji's area of protection" to get whipped by Jiang Cheng in a way that he'll only crash into Lil Apple and prove that he's not possessed this body.

2. Lan Wangji's Wangji is stronger than Jiang Cheng's Zidian. The line went like, "the former waned, the latter waxed." And Wangji produces ripples of energy like a wave, and brightens up the night sky to look like it's daytime.

3. Even if Wei Wuxian is the ultimate evil overlord patriarch, the public cannot deny his talents, his looks and his charming personality. I found it extremely funny that they didn't comment on the increduility of the charming, 4th ranked Yiling Laozu possessing the body of a cutsleeve because Jiang Cheng, who was ranked 5th, was there and they didn't want to anger him by complimenting wei wuxian.

4. Sizhui is such a wangxian child - like he's got the manners of Lan Wangji and the wits of Wei Wuxian. Sizhui is a REAL mediator, not Lan Xichen.

5. Lan Wangji probably thought Wei Wuxian played Wangxian or came under his "protection" willingly because he'd have remembered the past.

6. Wei Wuxian calculated everything perfectly down to the last detail of how to get away from Jiang Cheng etc, but did NOT expect Lan Wangji's personality change and has stated twice he believes him to be possessed instead.

7. On the matter of Jiang Cheng, like I said - Wei Wuxian previously never compared Jiang Cheng to anybody, even encouraging his natural talents. He knew Jiang Cheng hated comparison the most, yet throughout the narrative in present time, he compares Jiang Cheng with Lan Wangji relentlessly.

8. Wei Wuxian has not experienced a single positive emotion upon seeing Jiang Cheng well, etc, only disbelief that his hatred was still strong. Jiang Cheng has only felt disgust towards Mo Xuanyu being gay, and anger, hatred and a desire to torture Wei Wuxian.

9. Wei Wuxian is such a Lan, like I'm always shocked by just how much Lan stuff he explains - the origins behind the name Cloud Recesses, the discipline wall, the manner of the disciples, etc.

10. Lan Wangji: Let him cry. When he is done, drag him inside. (fuck)

Lan Xichen: you should treat your guests with more courtesy

Lan Wangji: anyway you are going to meet Jin Guangyao again lol bye

Lan Wangji: drag him inside

Wei Wuxian: ???

11. The fact Lan Wangji can read behind Wei Wuxian's intentions - he knows WiFi will annoy his brother, so he silenced him.

12. I also wonder just what was going inside Lan Xichen's head. How are you so aloof bro, let me know what are your thoughts? Btw, loved how we got told about the Jin Discussion Conference rn.

13. There was a paragraph comparing the statuses of illegitimate sons of Jin Guangsham, I found that interesting.

14. Wei Wuxian thinks both Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng are against him, yet it's better to be locked up than be whipped!

15. Wei Wuxian ALWAYS notes the scent of sandalwood when Lan Wangji is involved and what does he say again, the smell "had a way of tugging at one's heartstrings???" like bro... it's just you. But what's insane is that, he's moving towards the incense (probably in an attempt to smell like Lan Wangji!) What Zene and I said about this was "bro, you're probably are just a zither under Lan Wangji's hands cause why does everything tug at you"

16. Reading Wei Wuxian's narrative is like: although it wasn't sentimental: IT WAS SENTIMENTAL. HE MISSED IT.

17. Wei Wuxian thinking of how Lan Wangji probably practices his zither in this room, etc, and then randomly throwing in the knowledge that btw, he used to dig graves, find holes etc is so him.

18. Wei Wuxian had the greatest idea of stealing a jade token, and he was even aware of how the security would be like - like, this guy, apparently has the worst memory ever. and he remembered where the cold springs were exactly. WHY? Because of that ONE moment. 19. Wei Wuxian already recognized Lan Wangji from behind - he commented that the person was a bathing beauty.

20. The fact Wei Wuxian was looking at Lan Wangji in a 'im attracted' sort of way, but rationalised it by saying that he was only looking at the scars, or the seal, and that of course, he can't be actually attracted to a man! Like, ugh, bro. You have a storm coming. 21. Lan Wangji: are you sure that this is what you want? WWX: blushing like a slut LWJ: then stay like this for the whole night Me: SKDJKSJDKSJDKSJDKSJDKSDJKSDJKSDJSKDJKJ 22. The fact that Wei Wuxian couldn't sleep, and THAT is why he went to Lan Wangji's room, and then rationalized it by saying that he was gonna get the jade token - and then he threw himself onto Lan Wangji. Also, the fact that he's so chill about escaping, like i bet he's thinking, let's just have as much fun as we can, i'll leave anyway ~~ 23. Lil Apple is Wei Wuxian's comfort person, therapist, mother, and best friend. 24. Wei Wuxian sad thoughts about how Lan Wangji probably thought about him like everyone else did - a tyrant, etc. And him mocking the Lan Sect's 'righteousness.' 25. Wei Wuxian had thoughts about the sear. LIKE DON"T BE A COWARD SPEAK THEM OUT. Also, Wei Wuxian had thoughts about Lan Wangji dressed down, in simple, night robes. >< 26. Wei Wuxian trying to think over their relationship and describing it as moments that got lost in the bigger span of time. 27. 15 year old Wei Wuxian was IT. like, idk, he was just IT. Also, Jiang Cheng just exists to mock, berate, warn, make fun of, etc. And Nie Huaisang was already so keen, like he noticed that LQR was targeting WWX more than the others, and didn't dismiss his ideas. 28. LQR: as a disciple of the YMJ sect, you shouldn't be too proud at knowing these things Also LQR: look at my self taught, prodigy born, second heir, best disciple Lan Wangji, who knows everything! And of course, as the second heir, he is expected but that's not the point. The point is HE IS BETTER THAN YOU AND YOU ARE A MENACE TO SOCIETY. WWX: ah, yeah, fuck this imma out 29. LQR forewarned us about WWX's future TT 30. LWJ didn't express as much outrage over Wei Wuxian's demonic theories as LQR did, but he was intrigued. 31. Dude, Zene and I were thinking of just how many regrets LWJ fostered for 13 years. WWX: Lan-er-gongzi, do me a favour and look at me! WWX: Won't you look at me? WWX: Lan Zhan, look at me! WWX: Do you... hate me that much? WWX: I really wanted to apologize! 32. VERY IMPORTANT DETAIL: In a way, both Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng got punished with the discipline whip for saving Wei Wuxian, and the discipline scar remains as a reminder to 'never make the same mistake again.' But Lan Wangji makes this 'mistake' every day. Jiang Cheng, on the other hand, despite getting his whip mark from the 'unrighteous people' never protected Wei Wuxian again. 33. The detail that people in the Jiang Sect have so much servitude towards Jiang Cheng, and are so in-tune with the regular ploy of 'catch the demonic cultivator to torture him.' 34. Wei Wuxian fucking gaslighted the HECK out of Lan Wangji! He's so dauntless, like, nothing scares him bro, i understand why people wanted to off him. LIKE HE's SO ON THE PAGE. 35. Wei Wuxian: Lan Wangji is very pretty. VeRY PRETTY. Wei Wuxian: who cares if he hates me, does he think he is that pretty?

Also WWX: YEAH FUCK HE IS THAT PRETTY 36. Wei Wuxian: why should i learn the lan clan rules? i don't intend to marry in the lan clan! (also wwx, using about 3-4 lan rules at lwj to rile him up) 37. Lan Wangji: You, go outside, we have fought before. (clown music) Wei Wuxian: Against the rules HAHAHAHAHAHA LWJ: WHAT SORT OF PERSON ARE YOU? WWX: A MAN. 38. WWX tried to befriend LWJ for a month or so, he failed, and he decided to make him experience his firsts - the first time he shouted and cursed was at WWX LOLOL. 39. NHS being like don't worry bro keep up the free entertainment and you can get as many porn books as you like!

#mo dao zu shi #mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #canon jiang cheng #my thoughts #rereading mdzs #mdzs with fea and zene #novel excerpt

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moonyasnow · 2 days ago

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My OCs' Yandere potential

Because I like thinking about the 'bad' side of my OCs too

I'm gonna write about some of the very worst stuff my OCs are capable of, so readers beware

I'll be going into a LOT of detail— about what kind of Yandere they'd be, their reasoning for being a Yandere, some illegal and/or immoral things they'd do. Mostly so much detail because I've spent time thinking about this before so I already kinda know the basics.

This is more than just ways they could be TOXIC. This is straight up Yandere stuff.

Oh, and I will still count it as Yandere even if they never taking any explicitly Yandere ACTIONS.

CWs:

GENERAL: just some really toxic and unhealthy stuff

Tomoe: manipulation, gaslighting

Irina: intense jealousy, stalking, obsession, mental illness, thoughts of murder

Spike: hurting and/or killing people who are not the one he's Yandere FOR

Lisle: emotional manipulation

Veronica: captivity I guess? It's not like she tries to stop you from going anywhere; she just always goes with you. Everywhere.

Victor: murder, stalking, implied necrophilia(only in one sentence)

Artemisia: stalking

And I can't think of any specific one for Junia right now

The 'basically already there's:

Or, the OCs who have so much potential to be Yandere that they either already are, or could be pushed to it very easily

Just ordered based on who I had the most to say about when I started

Lisle

[ He's aroace, so this would be platonic! ]

“Now, Dear, why-ever would you want to get away from me?”

He likes you, he finds you fun, so you're his friend/maybe-pet now. Or he just decides to adopt you??? In spirit, at least.

Much like an owner would a pet, he's going to take care of you, ensure you get nothing but the best~ Oh, but do be appreciative. Don't shy away when he pets the top of your head or gives you a little kiss goodbye on the forehead before he needs to go do something else. He's giving you so much, you could at least say thank you, and give him your shoulder to lay on while he whines about something.

Like I've said in this post about Lisle's 'kindness', if it's not repaid, he'll make you feel SO bad. He's used to always getting exactly what he wants, never having heard 'no' in his life, and he's good at getting his way in the end.

Everything happens on his terms.

How he gets caught/how you escape:

Unless you involve someone else and go to them for help (and good luck finding someone who both hasn't been fooled by his facade and would actually be willing to stick their neck out for you) you are not ever getting away from him. The best you can hope for is distance.

In the end, his ego is more important to him than anything else. It wouldn't be impossible to convince him that giving you more freedom would be very kind and benevolent of him, and you'd be eternally grateful. Appease him for a long enough time, and he might eventually agree to give you a bit more freedom.

But make no mistake...like a chronic illness, Lisle is a Yandere you're never getting rid of permanently. All you can hope to do is ease the symptoms

Victor

“I wonder just how much of you I haven't discovered yet...I almost wish I could just cut you up hahahaha~! But then I couldn't learn any more...and you are oh so entertaining~”

Victor himself knows his interest in his obsessions, whether that be people or other things he'd like to study, waxes and wanes. But if for whatever reason he finds you keep sticking around in his head for long enough for him to actually start to get attached…

Oh it's over for you.

The first thing is he's persistent. He has pictures of you he took in secret in a box with your name written on it. In there he also keeps a notebook with your schedule written out, meticulously. He's already studied you enough to know exactly where you'd go and at what times. But for once, that's not enough for him. He's determined to make you his. He's the kind who enjoys a good cat and mouse chase— just makes it even more satisfying when he eventually catches you~

This is a game to him, and one he's determined to win in the end, whether you like it or not.

If you're the morally good type, he might try not to kill people, just knowing it's something you don't like. But he will absolutely disregard that rule if someone wanted to hurt you.

He'll show them just how cold hell can be…

He knows just how fragile life can be, so he's going to pull out ALL the stops to make sure yours doesn't end.

But if you do die? That's also fine with him. All 'Necro no Hanayome' style.

He'll take expert care of your body, make sure it's in pristine condition. It's almost like he doesn't truly realize you're never coming back. Because he'll keep taking care of and staring at you every day, as though waiting for your eyes to flutter open again. If his Signature Spell can bring animals back, why couldn't it bring you back, too? Maybe if he becomes a powerful enough mage, it could.

But caring for you in death is the most romantic thing he can imagine. And this way, you can never have a chance to leave his side again. He's the only one who will get to see you. You won't ever reject his affection like this. And he knows exactly what to expect from you— you can't catch him off guard or touch him unexpectedly; he has all the power. He actually almost prefers it this way.

He would, of course, prefer it if you were warm…but he'll just have to warm you up himself.

Jealousy isn't something Victor struggles with. He doesn't care much for what you yourself want, so you wanting someone else wouldn't be that hard on him. If anything, he's just annoyed at the other person for interfering with his plans. And he knows he can easily get rid of them whenever he'd like, so he's not bothered. But that doesn't mean he'd LIKE seeing you act all gooey and googly-eyed over someone else.

How he gets caught/how you escape:

He gets so caught up in the excitement of chasing after you that he slips up— he got sloppy, and left behind evidence, or someone else spotted him acting strangely.

Irina

“Please rip my heart out of my chest, bite me bloody, hold me so tightly my bones crack!”

Not gonna lie...this isn't even a 'Yandere AU' at all. This is just what she's usually like.

It starts with you just treating her with respect and like an actual human being. She believes she's every single horrible adjective under the sun. But you were nice to her, without asking anything in return. That must mean you care about her, right? That you could even come to love her! So it's meant to be! It has to be.

Honestly? I think she's literally stalked people she's had crushes on before. At the very least digitally, but I wouldn't rule out a tiny bit of irl stalking.

She writes down every single time you've ever interacted with her in her diary, in obsessive detail. In her diary she'd write about nothing but you.

Thinking about you makes her feel such a high— she just can't help but obsessively say your name, over and over and over and over and over and over and over... If you were to look through her diary you might see an entire page covered in nothing but your name, written overlapping with each other so many times you can barely see the page underneath the text anymore.

To her, you're the air she needs to breathe. You could do absolutely anything to her, even abuse her, and she'd still love and stay with you, so long as you show her affection now and then. She actively wants to be owned by the one she loves. If you do something like go on a vacation, the entire time she'll feel completely dead inside, only coming back to life again the next time she sees your face or hears your voice.

And if she were to see you with someone else, especially someone of a gender she know you're attracted to…

It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts! So badly! It's like her heart is literally being crushed right inside her chest. She's close to hyperventilating, and shaking, and, and—

She wants them gone. She NEEDS them gone! Because she's terrified you're going to leave her because you like them more.

If she were ever in a situation where all she'd need to do was push them to make it look like an accident…she's not sure if she could stop herself. She once thought about smothering one of the other kids she lived at the same orphanage at while they were sleeping, because they were becoming friends with her only friend. Why them? Why them and not her? Her jealousy is overwhelming.

When she's overwhelmed with jealousy she has three voices screaming in her head: Distress Depression Desire

Distress, her angry, impusive, instinctive thoughts that just want the pain she feels to stop. Jumping to conclusions, angry at you, angry at the other person. Just asking 'why?'

Depression, a voice saying that, of course it's not her. It's never been her. It will never be her. She'll never be the one someone chooses. And that's what she deserves; she's absolutely horrible and you probably hate her, as you should, so of course you'd never want her more than anyone else.

Desire, the little voice always shouting and shouting and shouting 'I love you'; the one who got her here in the first place, the one who spins every single delusion in her mind in a desperate desire for love, the one thing she's never felt.

They all scream at the same time like a loud cacophony in hear ears that she can't silence or escape from.

She's worked so, so, so hard for you, changing herself to be everything you respond positively to…so why are THEY the one receiving your love, and not her? Why isn’t she enough? Why isn't she your favorite? That's all she wants. It hurts so much she'd kinda rather just die than have to deal with it.

How she gets caught/how you escape:

Good news for you is she'd be a pretty easy Yandere to escape from. Mostly because she just...kinda doesn't do anything. She gives you no indication of just how bad her issues are.

You'll never notice a thing.

If you for whatever reason decide you no longer want to be around her...well, it's not like she'll say anything. She'll look shocked, yes...but she'd hide everything she WANTS to say deep, deep inside her mind, like she always has.

The 'maybe's:

For the OCs I could see potentially going off the deep end, if put in a very specific situation.

Veronica

“I'd rather die than lose you too!”

A Yandere Veronica would only come about if the one she loves were to either be in danger or have gotten into danger at several previous times when she wasn't there. A big enough scare in regard to their health and safety would make her snap and take matters into her own hands and do anything she thinks would be best in order to protect them.

She doesn't lose any trust for you; just loses even more trust at the world, if that was even possible, paranoid something's going to happen to you the moment she lets you out of her sight.

She's moving in with you. Putting everything in her life on hold to act as your personal bodyguard 24/7. And already being in such a paranoid state, if even the tiniest thing happens to you the few moments she's not with you, those moments get taken away.

You get close to slipping or falling asleep in the bathtub? No more baths; only showers from here on out.

She sees something expired in your fridge? She's checking everything in there every day to make sure it's all safe to eat.

Get a limb stuck in a shirt and almost tumble into something? She's gonna help you get dressed from now on.

If you're convinced she's going to go back to normal eventually... Sorry, but no.

She doesn't want to treat you like you're made of porcelain, but she feels like she has no choice! Every single time she's let herself drop her guard in any of her relationships to other people, no matter romantic, platonic or familial, something's always happened to take them away from her. She's not going to let the same thing happen to you.

How they get caught/how you escape:

Her downfall is how bad she is at lying or appeasing people. If they wanted to escape, she could never convince anyone they might go to for help that there isn't any need to rescue them when she's clearly trying to trap them.

If she gets locked away somewhere, she loses herself in an endless spiral of paranoia and anxiety, every waking second filled with dread, wondering how you are, if something's happened to you.

She'll do absolutely anything to be able to see you again. Even trying to get out of prison early for good behavior, for once in her life finding something important enough that hiding herself and who she naturally is feels easy. At least compared to the fear of not knowing how you are.

Spike

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you 'bout anything! I just...couldn't stand the thought of something bad happening to you.”

Another one I can see being the overprotective kind, who believes he's the only one who can properly protect you. He'd already need to be restrained if he found out what Vil tried to do to Neige in Book 5.

If he likes you, and you're smaller and/or less strong than him (which is very likely...dude is 210cm/6'10!) he's going to be very protective of you already. The smaller and less able to physically defend yourself you are, the higher the likelihood of him being overprotective.

He's seen some really bad stuff happen to people when he was still in the gang, he knows exactly how dangerous the world can be to those who can't defend themselves.

He would not be above killing anyone who threatened your safety if he felt they were a threat. Maybe they'd be better dealt with in some smart way, like manipulation or finding some legal way to make sure they can't get to you. But he was blessed with strength, not brains. And he'll use whatever he's got if it means no one can touch a hair on your head.

He's the kind who would do a lot of bad stuff behind your back, all under the guise of it being for your own good. And...he is smarter than people realize...just, not in the booksmarts way.

He knows he's intimidating... He also knows you don't think he's intimidating.

You've started to notice people avoiding you recently? (He's been threatening them to stay away from you) Maybe it's because he's been hanging around you more recently...

People are now almost afraid of you? (He's beaten up someone who looked at you in a way he didn't like) His intimidating aura must just so be so strong it has people correlating you with him...

To you, he's like a big puppy. And so long as he can stay that way to you, he's fine with doing bad things to others.

Regular Spike only holds himself back from hurting those who've wronged him because he wants to be a good person. If, for whatever reason, that was no longer a priority for him...

He hates lying to you so much. But he has to! He won't let anything bad happen to you; he'll take care of you.

How he gets caught/how you escape:

For all the bad stuff he's more than willing to do to others...he could never hurt you. He'd never be able to live with himself if he did, even accidentally.

He's exceedingly gentle with you. If you tried to run away, he'd never be able to use more physical force than a bear hug to stop you. He stops himself from trying to yank you back to him because he knows he could end up hurting your arm.

The 'Yeah no way's:

Or, either ones who'd need a RIDICULOUSLY specific scenario to happen, or ones I'd need to actively change something about in order to make them Yandere

Junia

“Oh, I see, this must be another part of the courtship process! Why else would you act like this when I know you love me?”

A Yandere Junia is one who thinks she and her darling were already basically together.

Maybe not officially, but she thought she made it so clear that she liked you, and you seemed to reciprocate! So in her mind, you're basically together, or at least will be soon. You both like each other!

She hopes you see how sad she became seeing you flirt with someone else and won't do it again. Again, you're not OFFICIALLY together, so she'd feel a bit awkward actually bringing it up...so she just kinda hopes you get it? She still won't really show explicitly that she's upset, just kinda waiting for you to get it.

But if you don't, she'll just put up with it. Maybe you're just a flirty person in general? Then she wishes you'd flirt with her, too... Why don't you flirt with her? Did she do something wrong?

She loves you! She's yours, and she's pretty sure you're hers too. You don't complain when you find her in your kitchen in the morning making you breakfast even when you hadn't invited her and had no idea she was coming either! So you're definitely together, right?

So when she catches you 'cheating' on her...can you really blame her if she decides to lock you up? She's tried so hard to just put up with the flirting, but now it's gone too far! Until you're ready to be faithful to her again, like she has been to you this whole time, she's not letting you leave the house. Not letting you see anyone but her, unless she's also there. She'll go through your phone; she can barely read the contact names due to the severity of her dyslexia, but if she finds a contact with a feminine name, she'll ask you about them

How she gets caught/how you escape:

It would be really easy to lie to her about your contact situation. She's generally too trusting to believe you'd really lie directly to her face, and pretty bad at picking up on when you ARE lying.

But she's also a surprisingly good actress when she gets caught...primarily because when the police say she's done something illegal she IS upset. All she has to do is lean into it and let her good looks and charm do the rest, and she probably gets off scot-free.

Artemisia

“If it is such that we are already doomed by the narrative, why continue to resist it? Is it not more romantic to die in each others' arms, like Romeo and Juliet? I believe that would be preferable to living the rest of my life apart from you.”

I cannot see her being Yandere as it currently stands; she's way too respectful of other people and their choices. Even if someone she loves like someone else, just being their friend is enough to her, and she's even happy for them if they're happy.

That said... She is also someone who, though she wouldn't previously have believed in it, can fall in love at first sight. There is still a romantic hidden beneath the lifetime of experiences that've turned her into a pessimist.

So if she were to fall in love with someone the first time they met, and she and them could both notice there was something there, some kind of instant, magnetic attraction to each other...she might just become convinced it's fate.

She's very patient, so she doesn't care how long she'd need to wait, because she just knows they'll end up together eventually. She's sure they must have felt the same way she did, after all, so it's only a matter of time before they confess as much to her. Right?

It's like the plot of one of the books she likes reading.

Even if it's a doomed love, that's alright with her. She finds the idea of dying tragically with her darling for a love they couldn't partake in in this life to be somewhat romantic. Because that is how this will end, won't it?

She loves you, and she's sure you feel the same way about her. Your souls are already entwined; for you both to live without each other would be so painful.

But even if you do try to move on with your life...she knows you'll be back. She knows you must be feeling the same pain living without her as she does without you.

Growing up locked in a tower waiting for— …for what she doesn't quite know, but for something— for literal years has if nothing else taught her boundless patience.

She believes this, her and her darling, are simply fate, that ending up together is destiny. It has to be; if it wasn't, why would these intense feelings have simply attacked her heart as soon as she first met them? No, this is fate. Maybe her darling can't see that just yet, but they will, in time. Until then, she's fine with waiting.

She knows they'll love her back one day.

And there's nothing she's better at than handling living with pain. It's been her entire life, after all, so what's a few more years? And it will end with you both in each other's arms, after all, so this time, she even has something to look forward to.

She won't outright do anything...but she will romanticize the idea of dying together, and plant the idea in your brain.

How she gets caught/how you escape:

Yet another one who's easy to escape from because she just doesn't do anything directly. ...Or so you'd think.

She'd send you love letters. If you move, you'll stop receiving them.

But as soon as you start to think she's gone, a flood of them will appear in your mail box. None of them signed, or including her name anywhere in them. She'd have read up on the law, making sure her love letters to you aren't breaking any laws...or at the very least, that you can't prove they're from her.

The only sure way to escape her would be to change your name and move to a different country.

Tomoe

“Lying to you? No, of course not! Why would I ever lie to you? Are you sure you're feeling well?”

There is no way regular Tomoe could become a Yandere. Mainly because she's just just so rational, level-headed and emotionally mature that she's not likely to ever become possessive, and she's not the jealous type at all. She's also really good at catching herself if she ever starts to fall into a bad pattern of thought and correcting it in a productive way.

I have absolutely no idea how she WOULD become a Yandere...so let's just skip that stage and talk about what KIND of Yandere she'd be!

She'd be the meticulous, almost scheming type, who makes sure you end up with her through a combination of making others look bad in your eyes, while also being the only one you can truly rely on. You won't notice anything because she's so good at acting casual about it. She words the truth of what she's doing in a way that makes it sound so much less bad; mundane, even, and says it with such a light, casual tone you'd never think to dig deeper into it.

She lets others do her dirty work for her; making small comments that, like a chain of dominos, ends with anyone else you could possibly rely on making themselves look bad.

If she does ever directly hear about said people doing something bad, she'll be sure to tell you about it, as any good friend would.

How she gets caught/how you escape:

She doesn't.

Like a spider spinning her web, once you realize what she's done- if you ever do at all- it's too late.

You've become alienated from all your friends, anyone else who could help you escape. And it was all your own choice. No one will ever believe you, will they? So just stop trying to fight it, and let her take care of you.

She's not so bad, is she? And if you're only judging by how she treats you...she's right.

And it'd be impossible to prove any wrongdoing on her part. Especially in any court of law.

Tagging!

@the-trinket-witch bc you seemed interested!

@babyghoul138 for Veronica like usual

#😇lisle #🩸victor #🐰irina #��veronica #🐚junia #🥊spike #🦢artemisia #🌻tomoe #moony's ocs #moony yaps

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ghxstlly · 6 months ago

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How different are Fear and Anger’s relationship from Mr Becker and Mr Poole? Also how does Becker feel about Poole?

Btw I love your AU <3

OMG THANK YOU I'm literally obsessed w/ Poole and Becker so without further ado-

RUBS MY HANDS TOGETHER

Fear and Anger's relationship is VERY similar to Poole and Becker's relationship, in that it's more or less built on a foundation of mutual respect and appreciation for one another's thoroughness.

As a matter of fact, Poole and Becker themselves aren't really all that different from Fear and Anger— the only real difference is the added depth from having an upbringing and "realistic" living situation and whatnot. Just imagine Fear and Anger if they grew up in the 60s/70s and picked being lawyers as jobs and go to work so they can pay rent— that's more or less Poole and Becker lol.

However, the key difference is how their relationships come to be. I don't see a relationship between Fear and Anger having a huge amount of trouble growing— to me, it seems like something that would come up over time and bring them together.

Poole and Becker did not have it so easy.

Poole and Becker's relationship was built over many years of being work rivals. Becker, being a criminal prosecutor, was naturally wary of Poole, a criminal defense attorney, and they often butted heads both inside and out of the courtroom. This was all made much worse by the simple fact that Becker was more or less obsessed with his work, putting his all into his cases to ensure criminals get justice, while Poole constantly threw a wrench into that simply by being really really good at his job.

All throughout this rivalry, Poole was actually very much crushing on Becker and was always wanting to get closer, showing interest in his personal life, giving him gifts on his birthday, striking up awkward, one-way conversations, etc etc.

Becker (subconsciously) liked him back, but really struggled expressing it, even to himself. He constantly fought all kinds of internal battles, not wanting that weird feeling he couldn't understand getting in the way of his work, to the point where he convinced himself he HATED Poole and wanted nothing to do with him.

Of course, that wasn't super watertight, and over the span of 5ish years they had a weird flirty rollarcoastery professional relationship that would wax and wane ENTIRELY dependant on Becker's mood, until it all fell apart when Becker lost a particularly important case to Poole and lost his temper (a situation which actually exists in 'fanfic' form— Ego Death)

Following that, they didn't see each other for a few good long months, though after some fancy string-pulling, heartfelt talks, emotional support and coaching from their mutual friend June (AU Joy), they FINALLY came together and became a couple.

So— to make a really long story into a short one, Poole and Becker's relationship was built from the ashes of a lot of emotional hurt and misunderstandings. They loved each other pretty much right from the start, they just took a really long time to get untangled. And once they did, they basically became inseparable.

And to answer that last part of the question, for awhile Mr Becker thought Poole was kind of... odd and awkward. But as he got to know him and learn more about him, he found his weird quirks (like owning 3057305730 desk toys and wearing tacky, silly bowties to court) kind of endearing. Not to mention feeling... seen by the way Poole seemed to genuinely care about him, taking time to talk to him outside of court (which he found suspicious at first).

#inside out #they speak #inside out au #attorney au

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noisytenant · 3 months ago

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what was ur trajectory for getting into hardcore?

Short answer:

Vocaloid -> Tumblr mutuals give me a taste of hardcore -> hardcore touhou arranges and lolicore -> hardcore autism -> 4lung links me a copy of FL studio -> Perpetuates the cycle

Long timeline below the cut:

c. 2009-2011: get into vocaloid because a high schooler TA at art camp plays World Is Mine and a few other classics, and i think it's just the coolest thing ever.

c 2012-2013: still really into vocaloid. it's my special interest. finding myself enjoying electronic stuff but not knowing anything about genres. going on youtube deep dives, listening to anything i can find reuploaded off niconico. i have a bookmark folder from around this time with a good hundred or so songs in it lol

2013-2014: introduced to things like wolfgun, pendulum, and more experimental electronic like osamu sato by tumblr mutuals. some of my mutuals make their own music. they and quite a few others i follow are into lapfox but i never went out of my way to listen. the callout drops and i have no idea what anyone is talking about but i avoid the subject.

i want to get into making music. i had a tiny bit of background when i was in elementary school, but i still struggle to read sheet music, i don't know shit about playing the piano, and i don't know what programs to use. i watch Cakewalk videos in mystified awe, unable to read anything on it. i am very bad at searching for information online.

somehow, i get myself into using UTAU, mostly just converting USTs, doing a little tuning, and trying to edit in Audacity. I start using Famitracker. While I struggle with the interface, I finally for the first time understand music. The process of synthesizing a sound makes sense for me, and I want more.

2014-2015: i'm into 8tracks and i like, like fucking, electroswing and glitch hop and shit. i'm just listening to random dancey electronic. i don't know. i liked the hotline miami soundtrack

2015: old vocaloid producers are retiring and moving on, the slump is starting to hit. i get a new computer, i deleted my old tumblr coinciding with losing most of the people i spent time with on there, i focus more on school. but i'm on twitter and soon i've remade my tumblr.

i start making new friends. i get invited to play nekodancer with one of them, and get introduced to their friend (hi ein). i think he put on like a goreshit song or a touhou arrange or something but it just really cracked my brain open.

i get into touhou, i get into touhou arranges, and this is when i meet gabber and breakcore. i'm also pretty into lolicore but i have a hard time talking about it due to it being called lolicore (oh, how time changes a person)

2016: at this point, hardcore is my special interest. i'm collecting things in youtube playlists, i'm getting really granular about genres. i'm slurping shit off of lolicore.ch

i want to make hardcore but i don't know how. i try doing things in sunvox to no avail. i try playing around in audacity to no avail. but the hardcore spirit is within me

additional events of note:

2016 or 2017: i don't know when or how i ended up finding out about 4lung, probably a twitter mutual. i like her stuff and she puts out a lot of it. the fanbase is friendly.

if you ask, 4lung will send you a pastebin with a link to FL studio, sample packs, and tips on getting started making breakcore. so i get FL studio. i'm still busy at school, but i make some practice tracks for assignments.

2017: i make the first E-R0 MAID.f track.

and then i just kept going. my music-related special interests wax and wane with my ability to focus on them compared to other things going on in my life but they never really fade completely. in early 2023 i started djing so that's brought it back.

so yeah that's roughly my trajectory thanks for listening

#indexed post

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thejournallo · 7 months ago

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Explain the basic: Symbology

Desclaimer: Everything I will talk about is information that I got from books and sites online and even videos on YouTube. In my years of practice, I learned as much as I could out of curiosity and what works best for me. I suggest you do the same by learning as much as you can on your own (I will be here making posts teaching this kind of stuff) from multiple sources.

As always, I will love to hear your thoughts! and if you have any questions, I will be more than happy to answer them! If you liked it, leave a comment or reblog (that is always appreciated!). If you are interested in more methods, check the masterlist!

what is "symbology"?

Symbology is the study or interpretation of symbols and their meanings within various contexts, including cultural, religious, spiritual, and artistic. Symbols are visual or conceptual representations that carry specific ideas, beliefs, or values. Symbology involves understanding the significance, origins, and interpretations of symbols, as well as how they are used and perceived by different individuals or groups. In fields such as anthropology, psychology, literature, and religious studies, symbology plays a crucial role in analyzing and understanding human culture, communication, and expression.

why is symbology important for a witch?

Symbolism is extremely important for a witch to learn because there are many ways in which you will need it. Symbolism is one of those things that is everywhere because everything can have a meaning. A good example could be the interpretation of dreams. Even if the dreams seem so strange and stupid, there is always a meaning. Another great example is receiving signs, and by that, I mean receiving signs from deitis, entitis, the universe, etc. But those are not the only cases. symbology comes in handy for a witch; knowing what symbol to use is also very important for a witch because you don't want to attract a bad thing to you.

There are symbols for everything, and they are everywhere.

how do i know is a symbol i use is good or bad?

It always depends on you and your culture. A quick search could help you avoid a lot of damage on you and your culture. A quick search could help you avoid a lot of damage to yourself, but this also depends on what you believe in. For example, I don't believe that satanism is bad, but I believe in bad people practicing satanism in the wrong way (and that goes for every religion and culture). I work with Asmodeous, and I don't see anything bad with it or his symbol (in demonology, every demon has a symbol with their name; it is pretty cool), but another person may see it as bad and dangerous and will avoid using it. It is as simple as that.

some realy popular symbols and their meaning:

-Pentagram/Pentacle: The word "pentagram" refers only to the five-pointed star, not the surrounding circle of a pentacle. Pentagrams were used symbolically in ancient Greece and Babylonia. Christians once commonly used the pentagram to represent the five wounds of Jesus. Often used as a symbol of protection, the pentacle consists of a five-pointed star within a circle. Each point represents an element (earth, air, fire, water, and spirit) and the circle symbolizes unity and wholeness.

-Moon: The moon is a powerful symbol in witchcraft, representing cycles, intuition, and the divine feminine. Different phases of the moon (waxing, full, waning) hold different meanings and energies.

-Triple Moon: This symbol consists of three moons—waxing, full, and waning—enclosed within a circle. It represents the phases of the moon, as well as the stages of a woman's life (maiden, mother, crone).

-Crescent Moon: A symbol of the waxing and waning moon, the crescent represents growth, change, and transformation.

-Ankh: Though originating from ancient Egyptian culture, the ankh is also used in modern witchcraft as a symbol of life, fertility, and divine protection.

-Symbols of the Elements: Various symbols represent the four classical elements—earth, air, fire, and water. For example, an upward-pointing triangle represents fire, while a downward-pointing triangle represents water. An equal-armed cross is often used for earth, and a stylized swirl or feather represents air.

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adapembroke · 7 days ago

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Astrology is subjective… and that’s why I love it

Everything we say about astrology is a story. Every interpretation is an artifact of a moment in time, created by a person who is a creature of that moment. Every astrologer is a person like you and me with wisdom and wounds, talents and flaws. And that’s the way it’s always been, even back to the beginning when the astrologer priests of Mesopotamia looked to the sky whenever something went wrong searching for patterns.

The subjectivity of astrology is inescapable. This idea is fundamental to the astrology I practice.

If astrology is always filtered through the lens of someone’s perceptions, I believe we should always be questioning it:

Is that assertion true?

Does this interpretation of that symbol resonate for people who have that symbol in their natal charts?

Was that transit prediction accurate? Did the thing predicted actually happen?

What are the assumptions and blindspots of this particular astrologer or astrological school?

Does this interpretation even make sense, or is the language too vague to mean anything at all?

These are hard, critical questions, but one of my most persistent biases is a natural skepticism. I believe that astrological forecasts that claim to predict concrete events (or how everyone will feel) are suspect. There are an infinite number of ways astrological symbols can express themselves, so there is an inescapable rolling of the dice that happens when predictions are made. Concrete predictions are rarely accurate.

For the same reason, I’m suspicious of astrologers who claim to be able to tell someone else who they are. As an astrologer, I believe my job in astrology readings is to use the symbols to ask good, open-ended questions that help us both understand you better.

Overall, I try to keep an open mind, but these are hills I will die on. Still, when I play the critic, I try to do it with the humble awareness that I am also a storytelling creature of my time. Skepticism is, itself, a story with the same limitations and challenges as the stories it criticizes, and it’s dangerous.

Criticism is a destructive tool. It tears stories and ideas apart. I know this first hand because my journey with astrology began with the destruction of a narrative that I had built my life on. I know how it feels to have the metaphysical ground ripped out from under you.

Today, I believe the astrological weather is wild the way the physical weather is wild. A hurricane doesn’t destroy a house because it is part of some grand plan. It doesn’t secretly have the best interests of the owners of the house at heart, and it isn’t following the orders of a perfect, all-powerful God.

The storm just is and acts according to its nature. The hurricane spins, howls, and blows and it will continue to spin, howl, and blow until something makes it stop.

I believe the planets are symbols that represent similarly wild forces. We talk about the planets as if they choose to act according to their nature because it’s easier for us to understand, but their actions are their nature. They do what they are.

Mars divides. Venus unites. Saturn contracts. Jupiter expands. The sun illuminates. Mercury communicates. The moon waxes and wanes.

This is the nature of the planets, but we have our own natures, too. We don’t have to like everything the planets do. We don’t have to like what they represent. They may (or may not) be more powerful than us, but we don’t have to just go along with the program.

If the planets are wild, we don’t have to take transits personally. In fact, we probably shouldn’t. Your Saturn transit may hurt, but, like a hurricane, it isn’t really about you. Even if your story about that transit is all about you.

I didn’t always believe in the wildness of things. I was raised to believe in an all-powerful God who carved the oceans with his hands like a child digging holes at the beach. In that worldview, everything was personal. Each experience was dictated personally by that god to you, for your benefit, even if it didn’t feel like it at the time.

It takes a long time for a foundational belief like that to unravel. I had dreams in my early days as an astrologer in which I was a character looking over the shoulder of the author of my story. I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone at the time, but I hoped that astrology would allow me to translate the author’s language. If only I was fluent enough, I hoped to see the grand design. Maybe then, I could negotiate with God.

I never really lost that hope. Not really. What changed is that I no longer expect to find justice in the weather. I don’t know everything. I don’t need to know everything. The storm that is bad for the tree that falls gives life to the sapling struggling in its shadow. I don’t need to decide if the storm was right. And I’m glad. I no longer carry that weight around with me. I no longer have to dig to find the ultimate, positive meaning in everything that happens. I can just be with the hard things, or sit with someone who’s having a hard time, and let it be hard.

Ultimately, this is what seeing the world through the lens of stories does: It allows the tree, the sapling, you and me, ancient Mesopotamian astronomer priests, and the gods to have their own stories. Stories as wild as a hurricane or as comforting as a nest. Or both, at the same time, depending on who you are and who is telling the story.

#Narrative Astrology

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