#the legend of sealed book
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lyselkatzfandomluvs · 1 year ago
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Maó XiâoTóng 毛曉彤
Rachel in Wonderland
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majorhobo · 2 years ago
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Legend of Sealed Book | 天书奇谭 1983
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ziseviolet · 10 days ago
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Pretty certain this look is based on this character from the 1983 Chinese animated film Legend of Sealed Book (天书奇谭):
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chinese hanfu by 菩岁-
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child-of-the-danube · 2 months ago
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Agatha All Along in general but especially Agatha and Rio are so fucking special to me and I cannot be normal about this...
We are finally not being queer-baited. Whether they seal it with a kiss or a flashback scene or a happy ending it doesn't matter. We have confirmation that those two women were and still are deeply in love.
It's two mature women. No weird age gap, no mentor-pupil dynamic, no disproportionate power play. I find coming out and setting into your queerness stories incredibly important but it is so refreshing to see a story where the discovery and accepting that you're queer isn't the focal point. They just are who they are and neither them nor the people around them had a big dramatic reaction to it like it's something strange or unexpected. They just ARE and my god is that beautiful to witness ❤️
Their softness, connection and care for eachother is so heartbreaking. Agatha smiling and leaning into Rio when talking about her scar cause Rio already knows, Agatha melting just by having her hair played with, Rio refusing the kiss cause that would be taking advantage of Agatha's weak moment, making sure she knows that Teen isn't her son, Rio regretting what she had to do for centuries. I am losing my mind over here
The whole cast is mature women (well, + Joe haha) which again, refreshing as hell to see. And I love how the focus isn't just completely on Agatha. We get constant glimpses into everyone. Jen saved the day twice already. Alice had her beautiful moment in e4, Teen is basically their spirit guide with his spell book. Adore that lil funky boy Agatha technically kidnapped but whom she very obviously cares for more than she would like to. Lilia is my favourite of this new found coven family. Her and Agatha are the oldest and have seen the most and suffered through so much. I think that's why she softened up to Agatha and vice versa. Beside Teen, Agatha seems to be the softest towards Lilia like when she had her hallucinations and she didn't mock her but reassured her it's ok and Lilia's constant blurting out of prophecies like "Protect Agatha" 😭😭. I could go on for ages about all of their dynamics.
And everything about the production and the actors themselves being SOOO invested into the story and clearly loving what they do.
I don't give a shit about Marvel in general but damn, they got me with this one. Canonically gay witches, Kathryn Hahn and Aubrey Plaza, musical numbers and then they throw in miss icon legend mother Patti Lupone on top of it all. I am in every possible way the target audience
The talk about how witches, monsters and in general creatures feared by the wider population are so very deeply queer coded is for another day but AAAAAAAAAAA I love everything about this show so much I might just explode
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chosok-amo · 2 months ago
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⠀⠀𝜗𝜚 ⠀⠀⠀HAIL TO THE ‘ GHOST ’
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♱ summary. bent over, bent down and said cheese to the camera, click! one, two, three... another, cheese! it was fun, haunting down by a ghost, gojo satoru.
warning. college! au, séx tape, hāte sex, háir-pulling, name-calling, pet names, praise, cunnilingūs, fingering, anāl, spanking.
wc. (♱) MASTERLIST
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“all hail to the ghost.”
your voice carried through the cavernous, darkened library, bouncing off the towering shelves and echoing in the dimly lit room. a few weak lamps flickered in the corners, casting long, distorted shadows on the walls. the heavy wooden door groaned as it swung shut behind you, sealing you in the silence.
you stood still for a moment, heart pounding, eyes scanning the vast emptiness. your friends had insisted this was the place, that if you wanted to buy a joint on halloween night, all you had to do was come here, say the words, and wait. the atmosphere was oppressive, thick with the musty scent of old books and something else—something unexplainable.
your breath hitched slightly as you strained to hear even the slightest sound. a quiet shuffle of footsteps or the rustle of pages would have been comforting. instead, only the oppressive silence of the library enveloped you, making you wonder if this was just some elaborate joke to freak you out.
suddenly, from the corner of the room, a faint, almost imperceptible noise—like the swish of fabric or a breath being drawn. you turned quickly, nerves on edge, hoping that the “ghost” your friends mentioned wasn’t just some urban legend to mess with the new students.
“well, well, well, look who we have here,” the voice was unmistakable—smooth and smug, dripping with the kind of confidence that had always grated on your nerves.
you froze, instantly recognizing the person behind the bookshelf even before seeing him. slowly turning, you saw him step out from the shadows, standing not too far away in black dress pants and a crisp white button-up shirt, a black tie knotted perfectly at his neck. his face was covered by a cheap ghost mask, but that damn smirk was impossible to hide. and, of course, there were those striking, infuriatingly bright blue eyes peeking through the mask, brimming with amusement.
gojo satoru.
of course it was him. it had to be him.
your jaw clenched involuntarily, a familiar surge of irritation rising in your chest. gojo had been a thorn in your side since middle school—always there, always teasing, always making your life just that little bit more difficult, always. it didn’t matter that the years had passed and you’d both matured; the rivalry had stuck, and seeing him now, in the dim light of the library, with that arrogant smirk plastered on his face, brought back every frustrating memory.
“what the hell are you doing here?” you spat, crossing your arms over your chest, already regretting stepping foot into this ridiculous halloween prank your friends had set up. if you had known gojo would be here, you would’ve stayed far, far away.
gojo tilted his head, pushing the ghost mask up to rest on top of his head, revealing his full face—his cocky grin only deepening. “what, you didn’t miss me?” he teased, his tone light and playful, as if your years of mutual antagonism were just a game to him. “i figured you’d come crawling in eventually after hearing about the ghost. guess curiosity really does kill the cat.”
you rolled your eyes, biting back the urge to snap at him. you weren’t going to let him get under your skin tonight, no matter how hard he tried. “you’re the ghost?” you asked incredulously, voice laced with disdain. “seriously, gojo, this is pathetic—even for you.”
he chuckled, stepping closer, hands casually sliding into his pockets as if he owned the place. “don’t be so mean. i’m just here doing my civic duty, giving the people what they want—some mystery, some excitement. it’s halloween, after all,” he said, his grin never faltering. “besides, who else would play the part better than me?”
“literally anyone,” you shot back, your eyes narrowing as he approached. “and i didn’t come here for you, so don’t flatter yourself.”
“really?” he drawled, stopping just a few feet in front of you, his blue eyes gleaming mischievously. “you sure about that? you came looking for a little halloween fun, right? maybe a little thrill?” he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering just enough to be annoying. “and here i am, ready to entertain.”
your fists clenched at your sides. gojo had always been like this—always pushing, always trying to get a reaction. in middle school, it was pranks, teasing, and outsmarting you in class just to prove he was better. in high school, it was constant competition over grades and sports. even now, in college, the rivalry hadn’t dulled, and neither had your mutual disdain.
his eyes flicked over your tensed body—the tight grip of your fists, the stiffness in your shoulders. he always loved riling you up like this, feeding off the tension between you. as he moved ever so slightly closer, he couldn’t help the smug grin spreading across his face. there was something about the way you reacted to him, the fiery anger you barely contained, that thrilled him. the closer he got, the thicker the air between you became.
“looks like i hit a nerve,” he crooned, his smirk widening as he took another step, now standing just inches away. his tall frame towered over you, those damn blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “you still can’t stand me, can you?”
you glared up at him, your body stiffening even more at his words. the audacity of this man—always thinking he could get away with anything, always acting like he had some upper hand. it makes your blood boil.
you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down, and shot back with a venomous edge in your voice. “congratulations, gojo. you finally noticed. i can’t stand you,” you spat, sarcasm dripping from your words as you took a step closer, poking his chest with your finger. “in fact, you’re like a bad rash i’ve had since middle school—just as irritating, and just as impossible to get rid of.”
a small, amused scoff escaped him as you jabbed his chest. any other person might have been offended—or at least, feigning offense—but not gojo. in fact, your anger seemed to only add fuel to his fire. he relished in your irritation like a cat playing with a mouse.
he didn’t back off. in fact, he stepped even closer, closing the gap between your bodies until you were almost chest-to-chest. “aww, you’re hurtin’ my feelings,” he drawled, feigning disappointment. his eyes, however, were full of mirth.
his eyes… they were full of mischief, sparkling with amusement. he was enjoying this. too much.
before you could pull back, before you could fire off another insult or push him away, he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. the gesture was soft, almost gentle, and it took you completely off guard.
“what the hell are you doing?” you hissed, trying to yank your hand free. but his grip tightened, his long fingers wrapping securely around yours, holding firm despite your resistance.
gojo’s smirk grew wider, his eyes dancing with amusement as he tilted his head slightly, watching you struggle. “what’s wrong?” he teased, his voice smooth and low. “you look nervous.”
his gaze flicked down to your hand, still trapped in his. “here,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a softer tone as if he were being sincere—though you knew better than to believe it. “let me hold your hand. it might calm you down.”
your heart pounded in your chest, both from the anger and the sudden gesture. gojo was a lot of things—annoying, arrogant, frustrating, but never soft. this unexpected gentleness was throwing you off.
but you refused to show any sign of weakness. you tried to pull your hand back again, only to have it held even tighter in his grip.
“i don’t need to be calmed down,” you muttered, bristling, trying to ignore the feeling of his long fingers wrapped around yours. the heat from his hand was starting to spread through your body like a spark.
gojo just grinned, clearly amused by your resistance, and before you knew it, he was pulling you along. his grip remained unyielding as he led you toward the nearby wooden table. with a fluid motion, he sat on the edge of it, pulling you to stand between his legs. his tall frame loomed over you again, but this time, it felt different—less playful and more… something else.
he finally released your hand, and for a brief moment, you thought you could breathe again. but then he pulled out a joint, waving it lazily in front of your face with that ever-present smirk. “so… is this why you came here?” he asked, his tone dripping with amusement as his bright eyes flicked over your face.
you found yourself standing way too close to him, suddenly hyper-aware of his presence. his legs bracketed yours, the heat from his body a stark contrast against the cool air of the library. your heart was lodged in your throat, the familiar mix of anger and something unidentifiable swirling together in your chest.
the sight of the joint in his hand felt like another jab. it was a reminder of your stupid decision, a reminder of why you were here. and all your efforts to stand your ground before were vanishing, replaced by a growing sense of unease.
you swallowed, forcing your tongue to work.
you narrowed your eyes at him, your irritation flaring up again. “you really think i’d come all the way here not just for that?” you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to back down.
gojo chuckled, the sound light and teasing. “well, your friends said that’s the magic phrase, right? ‘all hail to the ghost.’” he grinned, twirling the joint between his fingers. “but maybe you came for something else. something… more interesting?” his voice dropped slightly, the suggestiveness in his tone unmistakable.
gojo's sudden shift in tone, in demeanor, was throwing you off. you were used to the arrogant, cocky side, but this new, slightly dangerous vibe was uncharted territory.
he leaned in closer, the joint spinning between his nimble fingers. a hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes locked onto yours. “come on,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “let’s be honest. a pretty girl like you, all alone in the library on halloween night, looking for a joint. there’s more going on here than just that, isn’t there?”
you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your chest. the motion made your boobs puff slightly under your corset, though you didn’t think much of it at the time. you were more focused on maintaining your composure. “i came here for the joint, gojo. nothing more, nothing less,” you said with an air of finality, refusing to give him the satisfaction of riling you up further.
his eyes flickered over your body, the corner of his mouth curling in amusement as he lit up the joint and took a slow puff. the scent of smoke drifted between you, and his gaze wandered down, settling on your halloween costume. his smirk deepened as his free hand reached out, fingers lightly brushing the hem of your skirt—a skirt that, to his eyes, was far too short for his liking.
he exhaled slowly, the smoke trailing from his lips as he let his hand linger there for a moment longer than necessary. “what’s this supposed to be, huh? what are you dressed as?” his tone was mocking, eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned back slightly, his smirk turning wicked. “a slut?”
you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms tighter against your chest, feeling a spark of irritation. of course, he wouldn’t get it. “it’s a police bunny,” you muttered, pouting slightly as your annoyance flared. “you know, like the one from zootopia?”
gojo’s smirk widened as if he found your frustration amusing. he took another slow puff of the joint, blowing the smoke out lazily. “oh, right, that bunny cop,” he drawled, eyes flicking over your outfit again with an air of mock understanding. “well, looks like she’s had a bit of a wardrobe update, huh?”
without breaking eye contact, you reached up and snatched the joint from his hand, bringing it to your lips with a deliberate slowness. gojo raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his bright blue eyes as you took a puff, inhaling deeply before exhaling the smoke in a slow, controlled stream.
you shifted, feeling a bit more self-conscious than you’d care to admit. it wasn’t your fault that nobody seemed to get your costume, probably because you’d… well, modified it to be more eye-catching. sure, the skirt was shorter, the corset a bit tighter when the original doesn't wear one, but can you really blame a girl for wanting to look hot and beautiful?
you huffed, still pouting as you shot him a glare. “it’s halloween, gojo. i wanted to look good. sue me for not wearing a full-blown mascot suit.” you muttered, resisting the urge to roll your eyes again. deep down, though, you were slightly upset. nobody seemed to get your costume, but all you wanted was to have fun and feel good in it.
gojo chuckled, his gaze roaming over your body once again. he watched intently as you took a drag from the joint, the smoke drifting from your lips in a controlled stream. “looks good on you,” he admitted, surprising you with the compliment. his smirk was still there, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place.
he leaned back, resting an arm lazily over his lap as he continued to eye you up and down. “a little revealing, though,” he added, his tone casual, yet laced with a teasing edge.
his eyes slowly raking over your costume—taking it in a little more thoroughly this time. the smirk widened into a wicked grin, his gaze lingering on the curves emphasized by the corset.
you hummed, caught his gaze as it lingered on your breasts, his eyes tracing the curve emphasized by the tight corset. the way he looked at you made your skin heat up, but you weren’t going to let him get the upper hand.
“you’re such a perv, gojo,” you muttered, rolling your eyes, though the slight smirk on your lips betrayed the frustration you tried to hold on to. you placed your hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension between you two spike again, the air heavy with something unspoken yet undeniable. “i didn’t come here for a show. sell me the joint already. i’m not leaving empty-handed.”
his grin never faltered, his fingers brushing lightly across your skin as they played with the hem of your skirt, teasingly close to your thigh. it was always like this. no matter how much you insulted each other, no matter the hatred you’d built up since middle school, whenever you were alone together, things always took this turn. a touch here, a lingering glance there— like the insults only serve to fuel the tension crackling between you.
gojo's eyes darkened with amusement as he responded to your insult. he leaned in closer, the scent of smoke and his intoxicating cologne washing over you. “and you’re a princess,” he retorted, his smirk widening. “always wanting something, never satisfied.”
he tilted his head slightly, his fingers still tracing languidly on the hem of your skirt, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “you think it’s that easy?” he murmured, the words a sultry edge to them. “i don’t give handouts, princess.”
you narrowed your eyes at him, his words only stoking the fire of irritation burning inside you. “i’m not asking for a freebie, gojo,” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “i’m going to pay you. it’s not like i came here expecting charity.”
you took another puff from the joint, inhaling deeply, the taste of smoke filling your lungs as you tried to push down the growing heat between you two. you exhaled slowly, letting the smoke drift between you before you passed the joint back to him with a cool, challenging look in your eyes.
“i don’t need handouts from someone like you,” you added, voice firm as you stood your ground, refusing to let him see how much his teasing was getting under your skin. but there was no denying the way his fingers still toyed with the hem of your skirt, his touch sending sparks across your skin. no matter how much you hated him, there was always this pull—a line neither of you seemed willing to stop crossing.
gojo chuckled, accepting the joint from you and taking a slow drag, his gaze on you the entire time, studying you. he blew out the smoke in a thin stream, the smirk still etched across his face. he was clearly enjoying this back-and-forth.
he leaned in again, his voice low, his words filled with thinly veiled provocation. “oh, princess,” he drawled, his eyes glimmering with a dangerous edge. “you’re not paying. not with money anyway.”
he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. you could feel the heat of his body radiating off him, igniting a fire within you. his hand moved, slowly and deliberately caressing your thigh, his fingers tracing a path up your bare skin. he was testing the waters, seeing how far you’d let him go.
“you’ve come to me a lot, princess,” he said, his voice lower now, filled with a hint of danger. “every time you need something.” he leaned back, his hand dropping from your thigh as he took another drag from the joint. “you’ve never come here just to see me,” he continued, the joint hanging from the corner of his mouth, his gaze boring into you. “and i think we both know there’s something you want more than that joint, princess.”
he held your gaze for a moment, letting the suggestion hang in the air, then he smirked and leaned in again. his fingers brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake. he was drawing closer, the gap between you shrinking with each passing moment.
with a playful hum, you reached up and pulled the ghost mask from his head, inspecting it closely as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. the cheap plastic crinkled slightly in your hands, and you couldn’t help but smirk at how ridiculous it looked without his signature cocky grin behind it.
“so, what’s it gonna take for you to sell me that joint, huh?” you asked, feigning innocence as you leaned in closer, eyes sparkling with mischief. “should i let you hunt me down? if you win, you can do whatever you want. but if i win… well, you’ll have to give me all the joints for free.”
it was supposed to be a joke.
gojo's eyes darkened with mischief as he watched you hold the mask. the corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk. “clever, princess. trying to bargain with me now,” he chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.
he considered your proposal for a moment, his hand resuming its lazy tracing on the hem of your skirt. “a hunt, huh?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “so if i win, i get to do whatever i want with you. and if you win, you get all my weed for free.”
you leaned in, a teasing smirk playing on your lips as you let your fingers trail softly over his undercut. “are you scared you’re going to lose all your weed, gojo?” you asked, your tone light and playful, but there was an edge of challenge in your voice.
your touch sent a jolt through his body, his eyes flashing with challenge. “scared?” he echoed, a cocky grin spreading across his face. “you’re the one who’s going to lose. and when i win, i’m going to make sure you pay up, princess.”
he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. “you really think you can hide from me?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low murmur, “or are you just hoping i’ll catch you?”
you felt a surge of exhilaration as you pulled him to his feet, your fingers brushing against his in a way that sent a thrill through both of you. a teasing smirk danced on your lips, your heart racing with the thrill of the chase. “all talk, gojo, always all talk,” you murmured, your voice sultry as you let your hands linger in his for just a moment longer.
then, with a quick, playful tug, you turned and walked deeper into the shadows of the library, glancing back over your shoulder. the sight of his wide, amused grin ignited a rush of adrenaline. “catch me if you can,” you called out, your voice echoing in the quiet space as you disappeared around a row of shelves.
you could hear his footsteps behind you, the sound of him following eagerly, and it only spurred you on. you weaved between the towering shelves, the thrill of the hunt igniting your senses. the darkness felt alive, and every corner turned was filled with the promise of what would happen when he finally caught you.
as you ventured further into the maze of books, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and defiance. gojo might be your enemy, but the electric tension between you was undeniable, and you were ready to play this game to its fullest. each step you took was a dare, a challenge, and you were determined to give him a run for his money.
gojo’s heart raced as he watched you slip away into the shadows. your challenge echoed in his ears, fueling his competitive spirit. and as he followed after you, the thrill of the hunt coursing through his veins, he found himself smiling.
he was excited, eager even, to catch you. to finally have you at his mercy. you were always a challenge, fiery and defiant, and he couldn’t help but admire that about you. every corner he turned, every glimpse he caught of you, only served to make his blood run hotter.
he moved quickly but quietly, prowling closer with each step, watching as you darted between the towering shelves like a nimble cat. “oh, princess,” he called out, his voice low and taunting, “don’t get lost now. i’m coming for you.”
gojo followed close behind you, his footsteps echoing through the library as he stalked after you. a wicked smile played on his lips, his eyes locked onto your shape in the shadows. every bend in the shelf, every turn, he followed, his keen eyes never leaving you.
he chuckled softly to himself, enjoying the thrill of the chase. the game had been set, and he was determined to win. he could sense your excitement too, the way your heart was racing, the way you kept glancing back over your shoulder to see if he was catching up.
gojo couldn’t help but tease you as he pursued. “you’re only making it easier for me, princess,” he called out, his voice dripping with arrogance. “the longer you run, the more i get to watch your pretty little body move.”
you chuckled from somewhere in the shadows, your voice muffled but laced with sass. “you better take your time, gojo,” you called out, playfully taunting him, “because you’re never going to touch it.”
the thrill of the chase was intoxicating, and you could hear the confidence in your voice despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach. you glanced around the dimly lit library, searching for a good hiding spot while keeping an eye on his movements. the thrill of his pursuit only made you more daring.
gojo grinned, his eyes lighting up at your playful words. “oh, princess,” he replied, his voice lowering into a growl, “don’t tempt me. when i catch you, i’m going to touch a lot more than just that pretty little body of yours.”
he continued his pursuit, his senses on high alert as he searched for you in the shadows. his steps were measured, calculated, as he scanned the library for any sign of you. he could hear your heartbeat, racing as fast as his own.
gojo's laughter echoed through the aisles, a sound both frustrating and enticing. “just wait until i catch you,” he added, shot back, the determination in his tone unmistakable. “you’re only delaying the inevitable.”
you smirked to yourself, feeling a surge of confidence as you ducked behind a particularly tall shelf, your heart racing. the game had just begun, and you were determined to keep him on his toes.
gojo’s eyes darted towards the tall shelf where you had just disappeared, his smirk growing wider. “can’t hide from me forever, princess,” he called out, his voice dripping with confidence. “the longer you hide, the more eager i am to find you.”
he crept closer, each step deliberate and calculated. he could tell you were close; he could almost hear your breathing, feel your presence. the thrill of the chase only heightened his senses, making him more focused and determined.
“come out, come out, princess,” he called out, his voice filled with mock sweetness. “there’s no use in hiding. you can’t escape me.”
you couldn’t help but chuckle as you walked silently past him, brushing your fingers against his arm just enough to send a jolt through him. the thrill of the moment sent a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. “there’s a sweetness for those who wait, gojo,” you called out, your voice teasing and playful, before slipping back into the shadows.
you could feel his gaze looking for you, the intensity of his focus making your heart race even faster. hiding felt exhilarating, the dark corners of the library offering a temporary sanctuary. you knew he wouldn’t give up easily, and the chase only made the game more enticing. you watched him from the darkness, smirking to yourself, relishing in the thrill of the hunt. he was determined, but you had no intention of making it easy for him.
as your fingers grazed his arm, gojo’s eyes darkened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “clever little thing, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “but you won’t escape me for long.”
he continued to stalk through the aisles, his gaze scanning the shadows intently. he could almost feel you nearby, but every time he turned a corner, you were gone. your quick movements and quick banter had his blood pumping, and that only made his determination to find you all the stronger.
gojo walked deeper into the library, his steps measured and careful, his senses on high alert. the silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of his footsteps. he knew you were nearby; he could almost taste your presence.
he couldn’t help but chuckle at your taunts. you were feisty, a challenge he had yet to fully defeat. “you keep hiding from me, princess,” he said, his voice carrying through the darkness, “but we both know you want me to find you.”
as you were about to turn around the shelf, a hand suddenly grabbed your wrist, and before you could react, you found yourself bent over the wooden table, your cheek pressed against the cool surface. a gasp escaped your lips, quickly followed by a frustrated groan. the unexpected movement caught you off guard, and you could feel your skirt ride up slightly, exposing your ass and your thong.
gojo’s presence loomed behind you, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned down closer. “gotcha,” he said, a triumphant smirk evident in his voice. the thrill of victory was palpable, and you could sense his excitement radiating from him.
“you thought you could outsmart me, huh?” he continued, his tone teasing yet laced with a hint of something more dangerous. “now, what should i do with you?” his fingers grazed your waist, lingering for just a moment too long, sending shivers down your spine.
you squirmed beneath him, feeling trapped and exposed. your face flushed red as you realized how vulnerable you were in this position. “let me go, asshole,” you demanded, though there was no real bite to your words. deep down, you reveled in being caught, in the thrill of the moment.
your heart pounded wildly as you felt his fingers trace along your curves. a small whimper escaped your lips, betraying your true feelings. you wanted him, craved his touch, even as you tried to resist. “you cheated,” you retorted weakly, hoping he couldn't hear the desire in your voice.
you arched your back slightly, pressing your rear against him. the friction sent electric sparks through your body, igniting a fire within you. you bit your lip, trying to stifle another moan.
“cheated?” gojo repeated, his voice low and mocking. “princess, this is war. and in war, anything goes.” he stood behind you, his presence overwhelming.
gojo chuckled darkly, his hand drifting further up your body, his touch exploring every inch of exposed skin. he could feel the heat radiating off you, the subtle arch of your back hinting at your desire. he knew he had you right where he wanted you, at his mercy and completely at his command.
he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “i don’t know about cheating, princess,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl. “after all, you were the one who decided to hide from me.”
gojo smirked, his hand still firmly holding your wrist as he loomed over you. the position was vulnerable and submissive, leaving you exposed and at his mercy. he savored the sight of your bent over the table, his eyes grazing over your body, taking in every curve and contour that was now on display.
“but you put up a good fight, princess,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, chuckled as he felt your frustration, loving the thrill of having overpowered you. “but you can’t outsmart me. not when you’re like this— at my mercy.”
he placed his hands on your shoulders, holding you firmly in place. “you thought you're a sly fox, huh?” he asked, his tone teasing yet laced with a hint of something more dangerous. “you are just a dumb bunny, now, what should i do with you?”
he squeezed your shoulders gently, massaging the tense muscles. “you're mine now,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear, “and i’m not letting you go.”
you trembled beneath his touch, your body responding to his dominance despite your best efforts to resist. “i'm not yours,” you insisted, even as your traitorous body betrayed your words. your nipples hardened, straining against the fabric of your shirt as gojo's hands roamed your curves possessively.
“please...” the word slipped out before you could stop it, a desperate plea for more even as your mind screamed at you to push him away. but you couldn't move, frozen in place by the intensity of his presence and the heat building between your thighs.
“i...I hate you,” you gasped, even as you arched into his touch, craving more of his intoxicating caress. your resolve was crumbling, your willpower eroding with each passing second. you could feel he flushed his bulge further into your ass.
“go ahead, say it louder,” gojo teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “i want everyone here to know how much you hate me.” he took a step closer to you, invading your personal space and forcing you to look up at him. “but we both know that isn't true, don't we, princess?” he challenged, his voice low and intense.
gojo smirked as he heard your words, sensing the weakness in your voice as you began to lose your resolve. he could tell how much you wanted him, how much your body was aching for his touch, despite your protests.
he moved his body closer, pressing his bulge against you firmly, making sure you could feel his arousal against your backside. he knew he had you now, completely at his mercy. “princess,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, “you may say you hate me, but this body of yours?” he squeezed one of your hips firmly, his touch possessive and dominating.
you let out a soft sigh, unable to deny the truth in his words. your body was betraying you, aching for his touch, craving his dominance. you hated him for making you feel this way, for turning you into a helpless mess beneath him.
you bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan as he squeezed your hip. your body was throbbing with need, your pussy clenching emptily as you fought to keep your composure. “stop... touching me,” you pleaded, your voice shaky and filled with desire.
you shifted uncomfortably, your thong riding up higher and revealing more of your ass to him. your cheeks clenched involuntarily, your body reacting to his touch without your permission.
gojo’s chest pressed firmly against your back, keeping you pinned against the table. your body trembled under him, but your words of protest fell on deaf ears. instead of loosening his grip, he only tightened it, his fingers curling into your hair. with one swift motion, he tugged it back, forcing your head up to face the phone he’d pulled out.
your reflection appeared on the screen—flushed cheeks, eyes wide, a mixture of defiance and vulnerability playing across your features. above you, gojo’s smirk was prominent, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of victory and mischief as he held the phone closer, framing the shot perfectly.
“cheese,” he murmured in a low voice, his grip on your hair firm, but not painful. he angled the phone just right, capturing the moment with himself looming over you like a predator who had finally caught his prey.
the flash went off, and he chuckled, pleased with himself as he glanced down at the photo. “you look perfect under me,” he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction, before lowering the phone and leaning closer to your ear.
gojo's laughter echoed through the room, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down your spine. he released your hair, his hand moving to stroke your cheek tenderly. “so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice husky with affection.
his other hand slid down your body, tracing the curve of your waist before resting on your hip. he squeezed your flesh, his touch firm and protective. “such a shame to cover this beauty up,” he murmured, admiring your elegance. he pulled your skirt upward, fully exposing your ass to his hungry eyes.
you squirmed uncomfortably as he lifted your skirt, your bare ass now fully on display for him. you could feel the cool air conditioning hitting your sensitive skin, making you shudder. your face burned with embarrassment and humiliation, knowing that he had complete control over you.
you tried to pull your skirt back down, but gojo grabbed your wrists, pinning them to your back with one large hand. his other hand drifted lower, cupping your mound possessively before flying a spank across your skin. you gasped at the intimate contact, your body tensing as you felt his fingers brush against your covered slit.
“fuck, gojo...” you whimpered, but there was no conviction in your voice. deep down, you craved his touch, needed him to claim you completely. your panties were soaked through, the evidence of your arousal clear for him to see.
gojo smirks at your feeble attempt to cover yourself, his grip tightening on your wrists. “there's no use hiding from me,” he purrs, his fingers tracing the outline of your folds through the damp fabric. “i can smell how much you want this.”
with a swift yank, he tears your panties away, leaving you fully exposed to his hungry gaze. his thumb finds your clit, circling the sensitive nub with maddening precision. “so wet already,” he taunts, two fingers dipping inside your slick heat without warning.
he pumps them slowly, his palm grinding against your clit with each thrust. his other hand releases your wrists, only to tangle in your hair, tugging your head back to expose your throat. he licks a stripe up your pulse point before biting down, marking you as his.
a sharp cry escaped your lips as gojo’s teeth sank into your neck, pain mixing with pleasure as he claimed you. your body bucked against his hand, your inner walls clenching around his fingers as they pumped in and out of you.
moans spilled from your mouth, lost in the heat of the moment. you were completely at his mercy, your senses overwhelmed by the sensations he was evoking within you. every touch, every bite, every filthy word sent sparks of electricity coursing through your veins.
“ahh... fuck, gojo!” you panted, your hips rocking against his hand desperately. you could feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in your core until it threatened to snap at any moment. your nails dug into his arm, the only anchor holding you grounded as gojo worked you over, “w-we were in the library, anyone could walk in here,” you stammered hardly between your moan.
gojo chuckles darkly, the vibrations sending tingles through your neck where he still lingers. “let them come,” he breathes against your skin, his fingers never ceasing their relentless pace inside you. “i’ll make sure they get an eyeful of my precious princess standing up to her arch-nemesis.”
he leans in close, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he whispers, “and when i’m done with you, they’ll all know why you're so desperate to defeat me.“ his free hand snakes around to rest on your waist, gripping tightly.
with a deft twist of his wrist, he curls his fingers to hit that sweet spot deep within you, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body. your cries echo through the empty library, a symphony of determination that only serves to spur you on. “i won't let you win,” you gasp, pushing back against him with renewed vigor.
you grit your teeth, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. even as your body trembles and your moans grow louder, you refuse to submit to him entirely. you lean forward, bracing yourself against the table as you grind back against his hand, taking his fingers deeper inside you.
“i will beat you,” you pant, your voice strained with exertion and pleasure. “one day, i'll prove that i'm stronger than yo— oh my god.” but even as the words leave your lips, you know it’s a lie. in this moment, with his hands on you and your body singing with ecstasy, you've never felt weaker. gojo owns you, mind, body and soul, and you know it.
gojo laughs, a rich, full-bodied sound that seems to reverberate through your very being. “oh, my dear, you already have,” he murmurs, his fingers never ceasing their maddening rhythm inside you. “you're mine now, whether you admit it or not.”
to punctuate his point, he adds a third finger, stretching you deliciously as he pistons them in and out. his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud. “come for me,” he demands, his voice low and rough with barely restrained lust. “show everyone who you belong to.”
his other hand slides up your spine, tangling in your hair once more. he pulls your head back, forcing you to arch into him as he continues his assault on your senses. “that’s it, princess,”
you can feel your resolve crumbling, piece by piece, as gojo works you over. your body betrays you, arching into his touch, seeking more of that delicious friction. you try to hold back, to maintain some semblance of control, but it's a losing battle.
“no...” you whimper, even as your hips buck frantically against his hand. “i won't... i won't...”
but your protests ring hollow, even to your own ears. gojo knows it too, his chuckle rumbling through you as he feels you start to shake and quiver. “mhm!” you cry out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. your vision whites out, stars exploding behind your eyelids as your inner muscles clamp down around his fingers, milking them for all they're worth. your beautiful, freshly done nails scratch into the wooden table.
gojo groans as he feels your pussy flutter and clench around his fingers, your release drenching his hand. “that's it, princess,” he croons, continuing to pump his fingers slowly as you ride out the waves of your climax. ”so fucking gorgeous when you come undone for me.”
when your shudders finally subside, he withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to suck them clean. his eyes roll back slightly as he savors your taste. “mmm, exquisite,” he purrs.
he spins you around to face him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss before you can protest. you can taste yourself on his tongue as he plunders your mouth, claiming you utterly. when he finally breaks away, you're left panting and dazed, clinging to him for support.
you stare up at gojo, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. your legs feel like jelly, barely able to keep you upright. you know you should push him away, should tell him to go to hell... but the heat in his eyes makes your core throb with need.
“you... you bastard,” you manage to gasp out, even as your hands slide up his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. “you think you've won just because you made me come?”
you hate him, you always hate gojo satoru. you have how his cheeks shape shifting to slight crushed cherry when winter's come, how well it blends with the snow and how his blue eyes become brighter and suddenly feels warm.
you hate how your hands are running to his chest to his nape, feeling the soft stubble of his undercut beneath the pad of your fingers. you hate how he makes you sit in the quiet library, just the two of you, and trying so hard as simply as breathing.
you always hate gojo satoru.
gojo smirks down at you, his eyes glinting with mischief and victory. “oh, i haven't even started winning yet, princess, i told you i'm going to touch more than just your pretty body,” he whispers, leaning closer until his breath fans across your flushed skin.
his hands roam over your curves, tracing every inch of your exposed flesh. he unclasps to your corsets, pushes it aside to the table after he takes it off of you, leaving you only with your blue crop button up shirt to expose your hardened nipples, pinching them gently between his fingers. a low growl escapes him as he watches your breasts bounce with each movement.
“go ahead, fight me,” he taunts, his free hand sliding down your stomach to dip into your dripping slit once again. “show me how much you hate me.”
your breath hitches as gojo's touch sends sparks through your body. despite your anger, despite everything, your hips cant help but grind against his hand, seeking more friction.
“fuck you,” you hiss, but there's no real venom behind your words. instead, you find yourself arching into his touch, chasing the pleasure he so easily draws from you. “this isn't fair,” you whine, but it comes out more like a moan. your hands claw at his shoulders, nails digging in just enough to leave marks.
gojo chuckles darkly, amused by your feeble protests. “life's not fair, princess. get used to it,” he says, pumping his fingers faster, harder, determined to make you fall apart completely.
with his free hand, he rips open your shirt, sending buttons flying everywhere. he leans down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth, biting just hard enough to make you cry out before soothing the sting with his tongue before he pulls away.
you whimper softly as gojo's teeth graze your sensitive nipple, the mix of pain and pleasure making your head spin. your back arches involuntarily, pressing more of your breast into his mouth.
when he pulls away, you're left panting, your chest heaving. you try to meet his gaze, but can't bring yourself to look him in the eye, not when you know what you see there— triumph, lust, and a hint of cruel amusement.
he looks at you for a moment, tracing his thumb to your flustered cheek. “do you know how long i've been waiting to have in my arms, y/n? you are always being a bitch and grumble and hate me every time, and now..” he trails off, “when i finally have you where i want you to, you think i would just let you go?” he added.
as he speaks, you feel a shiver run down your spine. his words are a threat, a promise, a declaration of intent. you know you should be scared, outraged, horrified... but all you can focus on is the ache between your thighs, the desperate need for more of his touch.
he scoffs at you, how your eyes look at him beautifully, as if you are silently begging him to ruin you without you even realizing. so gojo grabs his phone on the table and opens the camera. he places the phone on the shelf where it shows you clearly on the table and it will catch a glimpse of everything gojo plans to do to you.
you notice the phone, the camera trained on you like a predator stalking its prey. you grab his hands when he walks back to you and in a second, your lips meet with his. “you... you sick fuck,” you breathe on his lips, but the words lack conviction.
gojo smirks at your half-hearted insult, enjoying the taste of your bitter resentment mixed with something sweeter, something he recognizes as desire. he captures your lips again, kissing you deeply, thoroughly, drinking in every gasp and whimper that escapes you.
his hands roam over your body, mapping out every curve and dip, committing them to memory. he breaks the kiss only to trail his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the tender skin until you're squirming beneath him.
“go ahead, call me names,” he murmurs against your throat, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “it only makes me harder for you.” with those words, he pushes your legs apart and settles between them, the thick bulge in his pants pressing insistently against your core.
you moan shamelessly as gojo's lips and teeth work over your neck, leaving marks of possession. you can already imagine the bruises blooming on your skin tomorrow, a visible reminder of his claim on you.
“gojo...” you hiss through clenched teeth when he presses against you, the heat of him searing even through the fabric separating you. your hips buck up instinctively, seeking more friction, more contact.
gojo lowers himself until his knees are rooted to the wooden floor of the library. he hugs your thighs before spreading it apart, parading your glisten cunt to his hunger self. one of your hands fists in his hair, intentionally making his ghost mask fall to the floor while the other claws at his shoulder, nails digging into skin. you want to hurt him, to mark him as he's marking you. you want him to feel the same desperate need consuming you.
“i hate you,” you pant, looking down to the man, even as your body betrays you, arching into his touch like a cat in heat. “i hate you so much...”
gojo chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating through you where his face is buried between your thighs. he inhales deeply, relishing the scent of your arousal.
“i don't think you do,” he says, his voice muffled slightly by your flesh. “not really.“ his tongue flicks out, teasing along your slit, gathering the evidence of your desire. “your body tells a different story.”
he parts your folds with his fingers, exposing your swollen clit to the cool air before sealing his mouth over it. he suckles greedily, lapping at the bundle of nerves like a starving man.
you cry out sharply at the sudden assault of his mouth, your head hangs low to meet his gaze, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations. each pull of his lips sends shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your core.
one hand slides up your stomach to cup your breast, kneading roughly as he pinches and rolls the hardened peak between his fingers. the other grips your hip tightly, holding you in place as he devours you. “but tell me, darling... does it make you crazy? does hating me make you wetter?” he asks, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he watches your reaction.
“mhm— no, i hate it,” you lie, fingers tightening painfully in his hair. tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the sheer force of your reactions. gojo groans appreciatively against your sex, the vibrations only adding to your torment. he doubles his efforts, alternating between long licks and quick flicks of his tongue, determined to wring every drop of pleasure from you.
“you love it,” he growls, releasing your nipple, “you love being at my mercy, being used for my pleasure. you want me just as much as i want you.“
gojo looks up at you, eyes dark with lust as he continues to lavish attention on your sensitive flesh. “admit it,” he commands, punctuating his words with a particularly sharp nip to your inner thigh. “tell me how badly you need me.”
his free hand drifts lower, fingers circling your entrance teasingly but never quite penetrating. “i can feel how empty you are, craving to be filled. your pretty little pussy is aching for my cock, isn't it?”
he dips the tip of his finger inside you, just enough to gather some of your slick before bringing it to his lips. gojo makes a show of tasting you, humming in approval. “delicious. almost better than sake.” he returns to devouring your cunt, driving two fingers deep inside you as he slurps and laps. the wet sounds fill the room, mingling with your moans and whimpers.
you gasp, hips jerking involuntarily as he sinks his fingers deeper within you. your walls clench around him reflexively, desperate for something more substantial.
“yes...” you admit breathlessly, “i need you.” your hands find their way into his hair again, nails digging into his scalp as you grind down onto his face. “please, satoru... i can't stand it anymore.”
the sensation of his tongue sliding inside you, curling and twisting, pushes you closer to the edge. your orgasm builds rapidly, coiling tight in your belly before erupting with a loud cry. your thigh pressing together, unconsciously crushing gojo's head in between while you shaking uncontrollably.
gojo moans into your cunt as he feels your release wash over him, your juices flooding his mouth. he laps them up greedily, prolonging your climax with skillful strokes of his tongue and fingers.
when the aftershocks finally subside, he pulls back slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. he smirks up at you triumphantly, eyes glinting with satisfaction. “there we go. wasn't so bad admitting the truth, was it?”
he rises fluidly to his feet, towering over your trembling form. gojo palms his straining erection through his pants, the thick outline clearly visible. “now then... what shall we do about this problem?” he asks huskily, thumb brushing over the damp spot on the fabric.
your body still quivers from the intensity of your orgasm, leaving you feeling weak and vulnerable beneath gojo's imposing figure. his words and actions make it abundantly clear that he intends to claim you fully, and the thought both terrifies and excites you.
“we're in the library for fuck sake, gojo,” you manage to spit, despite the heat pooling in your core at the sight of his arousal. “what if suddenly someone said ‘all hail to the ghost’? you're just suddenly gonna sell your drug, then? besides, we hate each other, remember? shouldn't we don’t do this?” your thumb touching his chin, wipe your juice clean that covers his chin.
but even as you protest, your legs instinctively part wider, silently inviting him to continue. the ache between your thighs grows more insistent, begging for relief only his cock could provide. gojo chuckles low in his throat, seeming to read your conflicting emotions easily. “nonsense,” he dismisses, beginning to unfasten his belt, “we’re already past ‘should’ and ‘shouldn’t’.”
gojo's smile widens as he shrugs off his tie and tosses it aside, revealing his neck clad in a crisp white shirt. the buttons strain against his growing arousal, hinting at the impressive length concealed beneath.
“besides,” he adds, voice dropping an octave as he steps closer, “i’d much rather ravage you here than anywhere else. the thrill of doing it where we shouldn't... it only heightens the pleasure, don’t you think?”
he reaches out to trace a finger along your jawline, tilting your face up to meet his piercing gaze. “and as for our rivalry, let’s just say it won’t change a thing. enemies or not, i intend to claim every inch of you.” with a swift motion, gojo rips open his shirt, buttons flying everywhere.
you watch, transfixed, as gojo's shirt falls open, exposing his toned chest and abdomen. the air seems to vibrate with tension as he looms over you, his intense gaze boring into your very soul.
a shiver runs down your spine at his words, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through your veins. the idea of being thoroughly claimed by your sworn enemy sends a thrill straight to your core.
“you really are insane,” you breathe, even as your body betrays you, arching into his touch. your hands come up to rest on his bare chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. the heat emanating from his skin is almost palpable, drawing you in like a moth to flame. you lean closer, taking his nipple in your mouth without breaking the eye contact.
a guttural groan escapes gojo's lips as your mouth closes around his sensitive nipple, his fingers threading through your hair to hold you in place. “fuck, that’s it,” he growls, hips jerking forward involuntarily.
his free hand slides down to cup your cheek, angling your head for better access as he guides your movements. “suck harder, i can feel my cock throbbing for you already...”
gojo's words are punctuated by sharp intakes of breath, each one a testament to the pleasure you're eliciting from him. his grip on your hair tightens slightly, a subtle warning not to stop, not now when he's so close to losing control. the musky scent of his arousal fills your nostrils, mingling with the earthy smell of old books and dust that permeates the library.
the encouragement in gojo's voice emboldens you, and you redouble your efforts, sucking harder on his nipple while grazing the tip with your teeth. his reaction is immediate and visceral— a low moan, a twitch in his hips, a surge of heat that radiates from his chest to yours.
emboldened, you release his nipple with a soft pop and trail your lips down his stomach, pausing to nuzzle the waistband of his pants. the fabric is warm and damp, clinging to the unmistakable bulge straining against it.
“gojo...” you murmur against his skin, looking up at him through hooded eyes, “let me see you. all of you.” your hands fumble with the button and zipper of his pants, eager to free the hard length you've been craving.
a shudder runs through gojo's body at the sound of his name on your lips, combined with the sensation of your breath ghosting over his clothed erection. “shit, you have no idea what you do to me,” he groans, head falling back as he fights the urge to thrust into your face.
when your fingers finally free him from the confines of his pants, gojo lets out a hiss of relief. his cock springs forth, thick and heavy, the swollen head already glistening with pre-cum. he's long and girthy, easily the biggest you've ever seen, and the sight makes your mouth water with anticipation.
“is this what you wanted?” gojo taunts, fisting his shaft and giving it a slow stroke. “to see how hard you make me? how badly i need to be inside you?”
your eyes widen at the impressive sight before you, gojo's cock standing proud and erect, begging for attention. you lick your lips unconsciously, already imagining how he would taste, how he would feel stretching you open. “yes,” you breathe, nodding eagerly, “i want it. i want you.”
without hesitation, you go down on your knees and lean forward and run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, starting at the base and working your way up to the weeping tip. you swirl your tongue around the head, lapping up the salty-sweet essence of his arousal.
“mmm, you taste so good,” you purr, looking up at him with lust-darkened eyes. “i could suck you off forever.” your eyes gaze towards his phone that is still recording just for a moment before focusing back on his cock.
gojo's eyes roll back in bliss as your hot little mouth works over his aching cock, his hand coming down to tangle in your hair once again. “just like that, just like that, my perfect little cocksucker,” he moans, hips rocking subtly to meet your movements.
he watches through heavy-lidded eyes as you worship his dick with your tongue, committing every second of your ministrations to memory—and to video. the knowledge that he's capturing this intimate moment only serves to heighten his arousal, his balls drawing up tight with the promise of an impending orgasm.
“keep going, don't stop,” gojo demands, his grip on your hair tightening as he starts to thrust shallowly into your mouth. “want to feel that pretty throat squeeze my cock as i come down it.”
you relax your jaw and take him deeper, inch by inch, until your nose is buried at the base of his shaft. you hold him there, swallowing convulsively around his thickness, reveling in the feeling of being completely filled and stretched.
you groan around his cock, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation. you start to bob your head, setting a steady rhythm as you suck and slurp obscenely, determined to bring him to the edge. one hand comes up to fondle his heavy balls, rolling them gently in their sack as the other grips the base of his shaft, stroking what you can't fit in your mouth.
gojo grunts loudly, his thighs quivering as you deepthroat him expertly. “fuck... you're amazing with that mouth of yours,” he praises between ragged breaths, the pleasure coursing through him like wildfire.
the sensation of your hands on his balls and the base of his cock is too much—too damn perfect—and he can barely resist the urge to just slam into your face and fill your mouth. but he holds back, savoring every moment, knowing full well that this is going to be one hell of a climax.
“go on, keep doing that,” he urges, pushing his hips forward slightly to encourage you. “make me cum, let's get this fucking video started right.”
you double your efforts, sucking harder and faster, hollowing your cheeks to create the most delicious suction. your tongue lashes against the sensitive underside of his cockhead each time you pull back, flicking rapidly over the slit to lap up the copious precum leaking out.
your fingers massage his balls firmly now, rolling and squeezing the taut skin, coaxing out his load. you can feel him getting closer, his shaft throbbing and pulsing against your tongue as his breathing grows more labored.
with a muffled moan, you take him impossibly deep one last time, swallowing repeatedly around him as you look up into his eyes with pure need and hunger. you want it, want him, want to drink down every last drop of his cum.
gojo lets out a guttural groan, his body tensing as he reaches the brink. “’m gonna—!” he gasps, his voice cracking as he fights to hold onto control.
but it's no use—the pleasure is too intense, too overwhelming. with a final, sharp thrust of his hips, gojo spills his seed deep inside your eager mouth, filling you up to the brim with thick ropes of cum.
“ahh... fuck, yeah!” he groan triumphantly, his entire body shaking from the force of his orgasm. “swallow it all down—you're my good girl.”
you swallow rapidly, gulping down every drop of his hot essence as it floods your mouth. some dribbles out the corners of your stretched lips, running down your chin obscenely, but you do your best to catch it all.
when he finally finishes emptying his balls, you release his softening cock from your lips with a wet pop. you sit back on your heels and look up at him with lust-glazed eyes, licking your lips clean of his cum.
“delicious,” you purr sultry. “i could get used to having you feed me like this.”
you reach for the camera, making sure it caught everything. then you stand up and press yourself against his sweat-slicked body, nuzzling into his chest affectionately. everything feels new, addicting, so sudden and your head feels like spinning from the pleasure and sudden change. “oh god, what the fuck am i doing with you, gojo?”
gojo chuckles breathlessly, pulling you close and draping an arm around your waist. “what are you doing with me? baby, we both know it’s the other way around,” he replies playfully, giving your ass a light smack.
he glances over at the camera, satisfied that it captured the moment perfectly. “look at us, already blowing each other’s minds before we’ve even gotten started,” he remarks with a smirk. “and you say that like it's a bad thing. i’d be happy to feed you like this anytime, anywhere.”
his hand slides lower, cupping your mound possessively. “you are gorgeous, did you know that? have i ever told you that?” he asked huskily, rubbing slow circles over your ass before giving a spank. “let me worship this gorgeous body of yours properly...”
you shiver as his hand cups your sex, pressing back into his touch eagerly. “mmm, yes please,” you breathe, arching into his palm. “worship me gojo, make me forget my own name...”
you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe to capture his lips in a searing kiss. you pour all your pent-up desire into it, kissing him deeply and filthy, tongues tangling together. when you finally break away, you're both panting softly. you spin him around just a little until your ass touching the wooden material of the table behind you and he stand in front of you.
“oh, i will make you forget everything except my name, trust me,” gojo growls against your lips, hands gripping your hips tightly. he easily lifts you up and sets you on the edge of the table, pushing between your thighs to claim another hungry kiss.
his hands roam your curves greedily, caressing every dip and swell. “fuck, you feel amazing,” he groans, squeezing your breasts roughly. “i wonder how you feel when my dick deep inside you.”
gojo lean down, burying his face in your cleavage and motorboating you playfully. he nips and suckles at the sensitive skin there before trailing kisses down your stomach before standing tall. “want me to worship this sweet pussy of yours?” he asks wickedly, looking at you through his white lashes. he nudges your legs, opening them wider while his hand slapping your dripping cunt roughly.
you gasp sharply at the slap, feeling your clit throb with pleasure. “gojoooo,” you cry out, writhing beneath his touch and whining. your free hand grip his waist closer as you look up to him and pouting.
your fingers tangle in his messy hair, urging him closer to where you ache most. “don't tease me,” you plead, bucking your hips towards his waiting hand, “just fuck me already.”
gojo smirks down at you, clearly enjoying your desperation. “patience, baby,” he purrs, running his thumb over your swollen clit. “we’re going to savor this moment.”
he leans in to capture your mouth again, tongue delving deep to taste you thoroughly. as he kisses you, his fingers slide through your slick folds, teasing your entrance before circling your clit once more.
“gojo, please,” you whimper against his lips, trying to grind yourself onto his hand. he chuckles lowly, breaking the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your throat. “you want it so badly, don't you?” he murmurs hotly against your skin, nipping at your pulse point. “fine, but you better be ready for me to destroy this tight little cunt of yours.”
you moan loudly as he nips at your sensitive skin, your body trembling with anticipation. “sooo bad!” you whining, voice hoarse with need as you tug his hand.
you fumble with his chest, skating your hand down to his still rock-hard cock while your other hand is pushing his hips closer to your already itching cunt, begging for him to fuck you. “pleaseee,” you breathe another whining.
gojo grins at your eagerness, his body shaking with barely contained laughter. “you're so desperate,” he teases, his hand moving to guide his thick length to your needy entrance. “i'm gonna make you scream my name,“ he promises darkly, thrusting home in one smooth motion. “and nothing else.”
you let out a loud gasp as he fills you completely, stretching your walls deliciously. “o-oh shit—” you stammer, your back arching off the air towards gojo with the sudden fullness. your eyes goes widened just for a moment before it goes back to normal. gojo satoru's dick is fucking huge.
your nails dig into his flesh, scratching down his back as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you. “harder,” you demand, bucking your hips to meet each of his powerful thrusts. never once in your life have you ever thought about having sex with gojo satoru, but here you are in the quiet library with nobody around.
gojo lets out a growl of satisfaction at your demanding tone, picking up the pace of his thrusts. each movement sends waves of pleasure through both bodies. “you like that?” he asks huskily, leaning down to capture a nipple between his teeth. he bites gently before soothing it with his tongue, all while maintaining an unrelenting rhythm inside you.
“fuck... i can feel how wet you are,” he groans, pulling almost entirely out before slamming back into you. “mhm, uh, just like that,” you cry out, head thrashing against the gojo's chest as he pounds into you mercilessly. your body trembles with every powerful thrust, your inner walls clenching tightly around his thick shaft.
you can't help but moan louder, not caring who might hear you. all that matters right now is the intense pleasure coursing through your veins, building higher and higher with each passing second. “more,” you pant, fingernails digging into his shoulders, “don't stop, please don't stop!”
your hips move frantically, meeting each of his thrusts with equal fervor as you chase your release. the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mixing with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.
gojo's breathing grows ragged as he continues his relentless assault on your senses, sweat dripping down his brow. he grips your thighs tightly, holding them spread wide as he drives into you with abandon.
gojo snarls, feeling your inner muscles flutter around him. “you're gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” he warns, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. his free hand moves to your breast, kneading roughly as he pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers. he can feel the tension coiling tighter within you, urging him on.
“i want to,” you gasp, biting down hard on your lip to suppress the sounds threatening to spill from your lips. your pussy clenches tighter around gojo's throbbing member, milking him for all he's worth.
each deep thrust sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “’m gonna...” you whimper, unable to finish your sentence due to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. the sensation of being filled so completely by gojo makes you dizzy; there's no way you could hold back much longer.
gojo grits his teeth, fighting the urge to let go as he feels your impending orgasm approaching. he wants to prolong this moment, savor the exquisite tightness surrounding him. but your quivering walls are too tempting, begging him to succumb to bliss.
gojo's movements become erratic as he feels his own release approaching. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply as he pants harshly against your skin.
“cum for me,” he demands, his voice strained with effort and pleasure. “let me feel you come undone on my cock.” he changes the angle of his thrusts slightly, hitting that special spot inside you with every stroke. combined with the relentless stimulation of your sensitive bundle of nerves, it proves to be too much.
with a final cry of ecstasy, you shatter beneath him, your inner walls clamping down around gojo's cock like a vice as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you. you scream in pure ecstasy as your climax hits you like a cold shower, your vision going white as your body convulses uncontrollably. every nerve ending feels electrified, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your trembling form.
gojo follows soon after, with a guttural groan he spills himself deep inside you, his hot seed filling you to the brim. he tries not to collapse into you, putting his weight into the table as his gripping tightly on the edge, both of you panting heavily as you try to catch your breath.
for several moments neither of you speak, simply basking in the afterglow of your shared passion. finally, gojo lifts his head to look at you, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
“beautiful,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead. “so fucking beautiful.” you smile hearing his words, swimming your delicate fingers in the air for a second before it lands to wipe gojo's sweat of his eyebrows. “who knows, fucking my enemy can feel this good,” you utter jokingly, lean your hands on the table.
gojo chuckles, a low rumble emanating from his chest as he leans back slightly, still buried deep within you. “well, i guess that just means i've got to fuck you again sometime soon,” he teases, his eyes glinting with mischief behind his sunglasses.
he pulls out slowly, watching with satisfaction as his thick essence dribbles out of your stretched opening. gojo gives your ass a playful slap, enjoying the reddening of your skin beneath his touch.
his gaze drops to your swollen lips, eyes sparkling with mischief and lingering desire. without breaking eye contact, he captures your lips in another searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim your mouth once again.
as he explores the warmth and sweetness of your kiss, gojo's hands begin to wander, tracing the curves of your body with a reverent touch. he cups your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they stiffen against his palms. breaking the kiss, gojo nuzzles his nose against yours, exhalting softly.
you gasp feeling his hot breath on your flushed skin, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. you reach up, your fingers threading through his messy white hair, pulling him closer if possible. your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction, more of him. you moan softly, biting your lip to stifle the sound as his thumb brushes over your nipple, causing sparks of pleasure to shoot straight to your core.
you’re completely lost in the sensations, your mind foggy with lust and desire. you arch your back, pressing yourself harder against his touch, silently begging for more. gojo nuzzles his nose against yours, exhaling softly. you let out another breath, soft and warm against gojo's cheeks. you lean closer, hesitantly erasing the gap between his lips and yours before you draw back just a little, also nuzzles your nose against his.
“what are you doing, you silly girl?” gojo asks playfully, nipping at your bottom lip before soothing the sting with a lick.
“i want more...” you whimper needily. at your response, gojo grins, a devilish gleam lighting up his ice-blue eyes. he presses a tender kiss to the tip of your nose while you grinding shamelessly against him resulting with gojo groans, his hardness stirring to life again at the sensation of your slick heat rubbing against him.
a contented hum vibrates through gojo's chest as he savors the intimacy of the moment, relishing in the closeness and connection he shares with you. your fingers tangled in his hair only serve to heighten his arousal, and he can't help but grind his hips against yours, letting you feel the evidence of his renewed interest.
“i want you, y/n, again,” you murmur, breaking the gentle nose-to-nose contact, gojo trails kisses along your jawline, pausing to nibble and suck at the sensitive skin there. he continues his exploration downwards, licking a path across your collarbone before dipping lower to tease the swell of your breasts with his tongue.
his hand slides down to grip your hip, fingers digging in possessively as he guides you to stand. once on your feet, gojo spins you around, pressing your front against the cool surface of the table. before he walks to grab his phone and back to you, still recording.
you gasp as gojo spins you around, the sudden change in position leaving you momentarily disoriented. you press yourself back against the cold surface of the table, a shiver running down your spine, you feel vulnerable yet electrified, your senses heightened by the intimate act.
the air between you is charged with an electric tension, every breath you take seems heavier than the last. you bite your lip to suppress a moan when gojo's fingers dig into your hip, claiming you as his own.
when he steps away, you glance over your shoulder, watch him with wide eyes, the sight of his muscular back flexing as he moves filling you with a new wave of desire. you shift restlessly, your legs trembling with the effort of keeping yourself upright. you catching gojo's piercing gaze as he continues to record you with his phone. a shiver runs down your spine at the realization that he's still capturing this moment, preserving the raw, unfiltered desire between you two.
“gojo...” you whining.
by the time he returns, you're panting lightly, your body already responding to his mere presence. you look up at him through half-lidded eyes, a silent plea for more in your gaze.
gojo's presence looms large behind you, his towering frame casting a shadow over your smaller form. you can feel the heat radiating off his body, mingling with the chill of the table. it's a stark contrast that sends a thrill through you.
“don't worry, i won't let you fall,” gojo whispers, his voice low and husky, filled with promise. he leans down, pressing a searing kiss to the exposed curve of your neck, his hands roaming freely now that he had returned.
one hand finds its way to your breast, palming the soft flesh, thumb circling over your nipple, coaxing it into a hardened peak. the other travels lower, slipping beneath the hem of your skirt, fingertips brushing against the damp fabric.
you arch into his touch instinctively, a soft moan escaping your lips as pleasure shoots straight to your core. you squirm against him, desperate for more friction, more of his talented hands exploring your sensitive skin.
“hold me,” you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper. you tilt your head back, giving gojo better access to your neck, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he kisses and nibbles at your tender skin.
your breasts ache for his touch, nipples hardening further under his skilled ministrations. you reach back, threading your fingers through his messy white hair, pulling him closer to you.
his hand on your breast squeezes gently, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. the sensation of his fingers tracing the edge of your skirt, teasingly close to where you need him most, drives you wild. you grind back against his hand, seeking relief from the building pressure.
“i’ve got you,” gojo murmurs against your skin, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. he slides his hand higher, pushing your skirt up around your waist. his fingers skim over your inner thighs, tauntingly close to your aching center.
he nips at your earlobe before soothing the sting with his tongue. “you're so responsive, so eager for my touch.”
gently, he eases you onto your stomach, the cool surface of the table a shock against your heated skin. he leans over you, his chest pressed to your back, one hand sliding up your side to cup your breast, while the other dips between your thighs, finally touching you where you needed him most.
“i'm going to make you feel so good, baby,“ he promises, his fingers stroking along your slick folds. “have you ever getting fuck in your ass before, baby?” you send a soft spank on your ass before spreading them apart.
“no..” you admit breathlessly, your hips bucking slightly as gojo's fingers find your entrance. you bite your lip, trying to stifle a moan as he begins to explore your most intimate area. his touch is electric, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.
“please...” you whimper, unsure what you're begging for but craving more of his skilled caresses. “more...”
gojo's fingers press deeper, curling inside you as he strokes your inner walls. you clench around him, your body responding eagerly to his invasion. the thought of taking him in your ass sends a thrill through you, a mix of apprehension and excitement. “do you want to..?” you trail off, leaving the decision in his capable hands.
“we'll start slow, alright?” gojo reassures you, his voice dripping with seduction. his fingers slide out of you only to tease your swollen clit, coaxing another moan from your lips. then, just when you think you can't stand the teasing anymore, he presses two fingers back into your tight hole, stretching you slowly, methodically.
“relax, i'll take good care of you.” gojo presses another open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder blade as he slowly works two fingers into your tight heat. he scissors them, stretching you gently, preparing you for his cock.
“let me take care of everything,” he whispers, kissing along your spine. his thumb continues to work your clit, adding to the mind-numbing pleasure. you can hear the slick sound of your arousal coating his fingers, mixing with the wet slap of his palm against your sensitive bud.
once you've adjusted to the initial intrusion, he adds a third finger, pumping them steadily as his other hand continues to knead and massage your breast. he rolls your nipple between his fingers, pinching lightly until you arch your back, pushing yourself more firmly into his touch.
the tension builds within you, coiling tighter and tighter until you're on the brink of release. suddenly, he withdraws completely, leaving you panting and needy. “are you ready for more?”
you nod frantically, unable to form words as waves of pleasure continue to crash over you. “yes... please...” you beg, your voice trembling with need. you spread your legs wider, inviting him to continue his ministrations. “i need you,” you confess, turning your head to look back at him. the sight of his confident smile, combined with the lustful glint in his eyes, sends another wave of desire coursing through you.
“good girl,” gojo praises, his voice low and husky. he trails kisses down your spine, pausing to nibble on your lower back before positioning himself at your entrance. “get ready, because i'm going to fill you up nice and slow.”
his thick cockhead nudges at your tight hole, applying gentle pressure as he starts to push in. you gasp, feeling the stretch as he buries himself inch by delicious inch. “breathe,” he commands, holding still until you relax again.
gradually, he sinks deeper, filling you until there's no space left between you. “ohh, fuck... squeezing me too fucking tight,” gojo groans softly, his hands gripping your hips tightly. once he's fully sheathed inside you, he pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation before beginning to move.
“shit, shit, shit,” you cry out as he finally pushes past the ring of muscle, sinking deep into your tight passage. the fullness is unlike anything you've ever experienced before— intense and overwhelming in the best possible way. you feel so deliciously stuffed, every nerve ending alight with sensation.
your walls flutter and clench around him instinctively, drawing him in even deeper. “slowly— god, slowly, gojo,” you whimper, having your forehead pressed against the cold tabletop and your eyes tightly shut.
“fuck, your ass is so tight, like it wants to swallow my whole cock,” gojo groans, starting to thrust slowly. he pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in, burying himself to the hilt. “i love how you feel around me, so hot and wet...”
he sets a steady rhythm, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure through your body. his hands roam your curves, caressing your sides, your breasts, your thighs. he leans over you, pressing his chest against your back as he rocks into you. “you're doing so well, taking me so deep,” he murmurs in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. “such a good little slut for me, aren't you?” his dirty talk combined with the intense sensations quickly drives you towards the edge.
“fucking hell, gojo! slowly!” you moan and groan wantonly. your gaze meets his over your shoulder as you glare at him, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. the filthy words falling from his lips only heighten your arousal, making you feel deliciously dirty and used.
your body trembles and shakes, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations. your fingers scrabble for purchase on the smooth surface of the table, nails digging into the wood as you try to ground yourself. “it hurts a bit, okay?” you grumble between your moan.
“i know, baby. just breathe through it,” gojo coos, slowing his thrusts even more. “i'll make it feel so much better, i promise.” he reaches around to rub circles on your clit, trying to distract you from the slight pain. “focus on the pleasure, let it wash over you...”
he kisses and licks at your neck, alternating between soft sucks and sharp nips. his free hand slides up your body to pinch and tug at your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.
“that's it, just like that,” he encourages as you start to relax into the sensations. “let me make you feel good, sweetheart. i want to hear you scream my name when you come undone.”
his thrusts gradually pick up speed again, each one hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. your forehead pressed harder against the table top sending a wave of disapproval from gojo. his hand took a fist of your hair and pulled your head back, “no, no, no, don't hide from the camera, let the camera see your beautiful face when i fuck you,” he said, grinning happily towards the camera.
you whine softly as he pulls your head back, but then you force yourself to look at the camera, even as tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intense stretching and pleasure. your cheeks flush a deep crimson as you bite your lip, trying to stifle a scream.
“fuck, fuck, fuck, gojo,”you manage to gasp out, your voice trembling with need. the dual sensations of his thick cock pounding into you and his fingers teasing your sensitive clit are too much to bear. gojo growls approvingly, watching you struggle to hold back your cries. “you’re so fucking beautiful when you're in pain,” he says, his tone filled with lustful admiration.
he quickens his pace once more, driving into you with relentless force. each thrust sends ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, making your legs quiver beneath you. his grip on your hair tightens as he yanks your head back further, forcing you to arch your spine and present yourself fully to him. the change in angle allows him to hit even deeper, his cockhead brushing against your wall with each merciless plunge.
“look at how hard your nipples are getting,” he taunts, pinching them sharply between his thumb and forefinger. “you're such an exhibitionist, loving every second being filmed while we fuck...”
you can't help but cry out loudly now, your moans echoing off the walls as gojo pounds into you relentlessly. “gojo, shit, shit— ahh,” you chant breathlessly, your hips bucking back to meet his brutal thrusts. the mix of pain and pleasure is dizzying, overwhelming your senses until all you can focus on is the feeling of his huge cock splitting you open.
tears stream down your face as you stare wide-eyed at the camera, your expression a perfect mix of agony and ecstasy. your tits bounce lewdly with each slam of his hips against yours, the buds of your nipples stiff peaks begging to be sucked.
“harder,” you plead desperately, lost in a haze of lust. “ah! want you— harder, mhm..”
“oh? you want it harder?” gojo smirks wickedly, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. “as you wish, my little slut.” with a dark chuckle, he suddenly grabs your hips in a bruising grip and starts to absolutely rail into you. the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he pistons in and out of your tight hole at a breakneck pace. your whole body jolts with each violent thrust, your breasts swaying wildly beneath you.
“fuck, your ass feels incredible,” he groans, angling his hips to drill into your g-spot dead-on. “so hot and wet and tight... made to milk my cock dry.”
he leans over you, pressing his muscular chest against your back as he continues his ruthless assault. his teeth find your shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave marks. he leaves his tongue over the abused flesh, soothing the sting before moving higher to nip at your earlobe.
you wail in agonized bliss as gojo fucks into you like a man possessed, each savage thrust shaking you to your core. your pussy clenches greedily around his pistoning shaft, desperate to hold onto him as he ravages you.
“oh my god!” you keen shrilly, your screams growing louder and more frantic by the second. the wet squelch of your juices filling the air only adds to the filthy symphony of your coupling.
your nails scrabble uselessly at the table as gojo's teeth sink into your tender flesh, marking you as his. the sharp pain mixes deliciously with the mind-numbing pleasure, sending you hurtling towards the edge. “gonna cum, gojo, ’m cumming!”
at your words, gojo redoubles his efforts, slamming into you with abandon. “that's right, cum for me,” he commands, his voice thick with lust. “let me see just how much of a good girl you can be...”
his fingers curl around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp and arch your back further. the added stimulation pushes you over the brink, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave. your inner walls clench tightly around gojo's throbbing member, milking him for all he's worth.
your orgasm triggers his own release, his cock twitching inside you as he spills his hot seed deep within your womb. he grunts loudly, the sound mingling with your high-pitched whimpers and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.
your entire being shudders violently as your orgasm rips through you, every nerve ending alight with electric pleasure. your vision blurs, colors bleeding together as you lose yourself completely to the sensations coursing through your body.
gojo's hand around your throat sends an extra jolt of excitement zinging straight to your clit, pushing you over the edge into a mind-bending peak. your pussy spasms uncontrollably, gripping his cock in a vice-like squeeze as you ride out the waves of your climax.
when gojo finally releases inside you, coating your insides with his scorching hot cum, it's almost too much to bear. your already sensitive nerves are overwhelmed by the sensation, leaving you a quivering, boneless mess.
the feeling of your tight walls pulsating around his cock, milking him for every drop, draws a guttural moan from gojo. he holds you firmly in place, refusing to let either of you move until every last bit of pleasure has been wrung out. his fingers tighten slightly on your throat but not enough to cut off your air supply. instead, it's another form of control, keeping you right where he wants you— helpless and utterly at his mercy.
as the aftershocks continue to rock through both bodies, gojo gently withdraws from your slickened ass, gently flipping you on your back and stepping away just enough so he can admire the sight of your flushed face and heaving chest.
you lay sprawled across the table, legs splayed wide and gojo's cum leaking out of your thoroughly used holes. your skin glistens with a sheen of sweat, hair sticking to your forehead in damp tendrils. you look absolutely debauched, and you know it.
gojo drinks in the sight of you, his gaze roaming hungrily over every inch of exposed flesh. “you're such a good girl,” he praises, voice low and rough. “i don't think i can get enough of you now i get a taste of you, y/n, looks like i just have to spend the rest of my life with you.”
the threat sends a thrill down your spine, even as a small part of you knows you should protest. but the thought of belonging to gojo fully, of being at his complete mercy... it's too exciting to resist.
gojo's words hang heavy in the air between you, the promise of a lifetime spent as his personal plaything sending a fresh rush of arousal through your veins. you know you should put up some kind of resistance, insist on maintaining some semblance of independence, but the idea of being owned so completely by someone as powerful and dominant as gojo is simply too tempting to pass up.
“great, now i'm stuck with you,” you manage to say breathlessly, trying to inject a note of teasing bravado into your tone despite the way your body trembles with need. your body was still trembling as you slowly pushed yourself up from the table, the heat of the moment still lingering in the air.
a dangerous smile spreads across gojo's face as he watches you struggle to sit up. he leans down, bracing one hand on the tabletop next to you, his gaze roaming over your flushed features, taking in every nuance of your expression.
“you say that like it's a bad thing,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “and we both know you don’t really mind being mine, princess. you love it, admit it.” he leans down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. “mine,” he whispers, his voice low and possessive.
as he pulls back, his eyes lock onto your face, seeking any hint of reluctance. but he finds none. your breathing is shaky, and your cheeks are flushed, and despite your feeble protest, your body betrays your true feelings. you know you're his, and he knows it too.
he straightens up, taking a step back to give you room to sit up fully. “don't worry,” he says, his tone almost reassuring. “i'll take care of you, princess. i always take care of what's mine.”
you glanced at gojo, who was now standing tall, watching you with that same smug, satisfied look. despite everything, there was a hint of softness in his eyes as he watched you regain your composure.
“at least help me clean up,” you muttered, still slightly breathless. your cheeks flushed as you stretched your hand towards him, fingers brushing the hem of your skirt to adjust it. “you made the mess, after all.”
gojo's lips curled up in a playful smirk at your request. “oh, princess,” he drawled, taking a step closer and closing the distance between you. “always demanding, aren't you?”
he leaned down, his face inches from yours as he gently pushed your hand away from your skirt. “don't worry, i’ll clean up,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry. “but i think i’ll take my time and enjoy the view first.”
“shut up, gojo,” you snapped, your voice sharp as you glared at him. “i’m mad at you for making a mess out of me when i was supposed to be having fun with my friends.”
gojo just chuckled, clearly unfazed by your frustration. he knelt down, picking up your discarded corset from the floor, his eyes still twinkling with amusement. “you always blame me for the fun stuff,” he teased, but his hands were already working, buttoning up your shirt first with a surprising tenderness.
as he helped you back into your corset, his fingers brushing your skin as he tightened the laces, you couldn’t help but huff in frustration. “because you always annoy me and i always blame you for everything, you better make this up to me,” you muttered under your breath.
gojo chuckled at your irritation, his hands still working to button up your shirt. “can’t help being a bit mischievous, princess,” he replied lightly. “it’s part of my charm.”
he finished buttoning up your shirt, leaving a few buttons undone, his gaze lingering on the exposed skin at your throat before moving on to your corset. his hands skimmed the lace and silk with a hint of reverence as he slowly laced you up.
“make it up to you?” he repeated, his voice low and playful. “i thought i just did, princess.”
you smacked his chest lightly, your frustration evident. “shut up, gojo,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes as you started scanning the floor for your missing thong. “where’s my thong?” you muttered under your breath, feeling the irritation bubble up again.
gojo, now pulling his button up shirt over his arm, glanced down with a smirk. “it’s probably somewhere around here,” he teased, watching you with amusement as you searched. “i think it flew off when you were, you know, too busy being ‘mad’ at me.”
as you shot him a glare, he chuckled softly, picking up his own clothes and tossing them on, clearly enjoying the aftermath of your little encounter. “here, princess,” he said, suddenly bending down and tossing the thong toward you, his smirk still lingering.
you caught the thong instinctively, feeling a fresh wave of irritation. gojo's casual demeanor only fueled your annoyance, but the way he was watching you, his gaze lingering on your body, was both infuriating and exciting.
you slipped the thong back on, fixing your skirt as you straightened up. your cheeks were flushed, and your breath was still coming in slightly labored gasps. you did your best to compose yourself, feeling the weight of his gaze on you like a physical touch. gojo had finished dressing himself and was now standing casually, leaning against the table as he observed you.
“all fixed up, princess,” he teased, his eyes roaming over your form. “although i have to say, i do enjoy the disheveled look on you.”
he pushed himself away from the table and sauntered towards you, his steps leisure yet deliberate. he stopped just in front of you, his body close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. “you know, it's quite adorable when you try to be mad at me,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry.
you glared at him, still flushed with a mix of annoyance and lingering desire. “shut up, gojo,” you snapped, your voice laced with frustration. “and stop looking at me like that, you perv.”
gojo chuckled, not the least bit deterred by your glare. “can't help it, princess,” he replied, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “you're just too damn hot to ignore.”
he took a step closer, closing the gap between you so that his chest was almost pressed against yours. “and i see that you still haven‘t fully composed yourself,” he murmured, his eyes trailing over your flushed cheeks. “still a little flustered, are we?”
you narrowed your eyes at him, huffing in frustration. “shut up, gojo,” you muttered again, your voice firmer this time, but the hint of a pout on your lips betrayed you. “shut up and let’s just go already.”
gojo smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction, but he grabbed his mask and your bunny band without another word. he handed you the bunny band, but before you could take it, you looked at him with a softer, slightly sheepish expression. “hold me?” you asked, your voice a little quieter now.
gojo's smirk softened into a small smile as he heard your softer tone. he knew your irritation was fading, and what was left was your playful, more vulnerable side. he reached out and gently took hold of your waist, pulling you closer against him.
“of course, princess,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle. “i'll hold you. i'll always hold you.” he wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest. he nuzzled his face against the top of your head, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair.
you leaned into gojo's embrace, your irritation completely gone now, replaced by a shy warmth. as you felt his arms tighten around you, a thought crossed your mind—one that made your cheeks flush slightly.
you looked up at him, remembering how he had recorded everything earlier. your voice came out quieter, almost hesitant. “gojo,” you murmured, biting your lip slightly, “about that video... can you send it to me?” a wave of shyness washed over you as you avoided his eyes, feeling a bit embarrassed for even asking.
gojo raised an eyebrow, surprised by your sudden request. he tried to keep his voice even as a small smile played on his lips. “you want that, princess?” he asked, a hint of incredulousness in his tone. “you want me to send you a video of us?”
he gently gripped your chin, tilting your face up so that you had to meet his gaze. his eyes searched your face, trying to read the expression in your eyes.
“uh-uh,” you murmur, slightly embarrassed for asking for a video— more likely a sex-tape— of you and him. gojo grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement and a hint of genuine affection. “princess, are you feeling a little kinky?” he teased. “asking for a video of us?”
he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “i don't mind sending it to you. i’m quite proud of my performance in it.”
you rolled your eyes at gojo’s teasing, a smirk tugging at your lips despite yourself. "don’t flatter yourself, gojo," you replied, your tone laced with playful sarcasm. "it’s not that impressive."
as the two of you walked out of the library, his arm still comfortably wrapped around your waist, you gave him a side glance. “i just want it for... research purposes,” you added with a mock-serious expression, unable to hide the mischievous glint in your eyes.
gojo's smirk widened at your response, his eyes glimmering with playful mischief. he chuckled and pulled you closer to his side, clearly enjoying the banter.
“research purposes, eh?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow in mock skepticism. “and what kind of research, pray tell, does a princess like you need that video for?” he leaned down, his voice dropping to a low, seductive tone. “or is it for... private viewing pleasure?”
you smirked up at him, clearly amused by his teasing. “oh, i’m going to sell it,” you said, your voice dripping with mock seriousness. “think of all the girls out there willing to pay for a glimpse of the great gojo in action. i could make a fortune.”
gojo let out a low chuckle, a mix of surprise and amusement. he tightened his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer against him.
“selling a video of me? princess, i'm both flattered and offended,” he teased, feigning hurt in his tone. his eyes sparkled as he continued, “but don't forget… there's two of us in that video. they’ll be paying to see you too.”
gojo’s grin widened as he guided you toward the parking spot, his arm still firmly around your waist. “let’s go to my place, princess,” he murmured, his tone carrying that familiar mix of teasing and suggestion. “we can discuss this little business venture of yours in private.”
he glanced down at you, his eyes glinting with mischief. “besides, i have a feeling you'd want to make sure the video’s... edited to your liking before you sell it.” he winked, clearly enjoying pushing your buttons as he led you toward his car.
gojo gives your ass a firm squeeze before stepping back, to open the door of his car for you, “we can see how our little video turned out. maybe we can even edit in some close-ups of that pretty face of yours while you're sucking me off...”
you feigned annoyance at his shamelessness, but you couldn't help the flush that spread across your cheeks at his words. you ducked into the passenger seat, trying to hide your flustered reaction.
“you're impossible, gojo,” you huffed, trying to maintain a tone of feigned indifference. “always so confident and shameless.” but even as you spoke, you knew that you were just as eager as him to get back to his place and see that video. you were just unwilling to admit it out loud.
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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year ago
Note
Can I request for your Halloween celebration dracula x fem reader with the prompt you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, with loads of fluff and maybe some smut please
.⋆。A Chance。⋆.
Count Vlad Dracula x plus size reader
When you are sentenced to death by your village, the monster in the woods gives you a chance at a better life- by his side
Warnings: minor angst (reader is sacrificed by her village), fluff, i kind of followed the Dracula Untold backstory because he is so stupidly hot and I love the angst, love confessions, mentions of blood, Vlad is slightly toxic but what do you expect, biting, sort of implied death? reader is turned
WC: 2.9k
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
Halloween Celebration
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Every town had their own ghost stories, legends that grew from whispers in the night. But the monster that stalked your home was very real and very dangerous. It stalked the shadows between the small homes, picking off the weakest of the population in the dead of night.
Fear was woven into your very existence, taught to you since the moment you could comprehend your parent’s words. Your senses were constantly tuned to the world around you, listening for any extra footsteps, eyes locked on the castle that loomed over your home but it wasn’t enough, not when the elders of the village determined that in order to protect everyone, only one must be sacrificed.
You were the easy choice- young enough to be a valuable meal but not a child anymore, you were pure and soft, unable to protect yourself in the vast wilderness that surrounded you. You screamed and cried and fought them as hard as you could but it did you no good, you still ended up at the steps of the steps of the castle, barefoot and terrified.
Frozen in fear, you trembled as the huge ornate doors opened before you. Candlelight spilled into the night air illuminating your way, but you refused to move. Some baser instinct in your brain told you that if you remained totally still, the monster would leave you alone and once dawn finally broke, you could run to another town.
Alas, it knew you were there. “Come inside before you catch your death of cold.” A voice called to you, urging you into its den. Acting of their own accord, your legs pushed your forwards and into the warmth of the grand hall, even as your mind screamed at you to turn and run. 
As soon as you were inside, the doors slammed shut behind you, sealing you into the place that would become your tomb. “Such a skittish little thing aren’t you.” The voice bounced off the towering walls and you whipped your head around, attempting to pinpoint where it came from.
Your heart pounded in your ears as your stomach twisted in fear. A sigh echoed around you. “You needn’t be frightened little one, I will not hurt you.” The voice was far softer now, the tone more of a man comforting a scared animal rather than a deadly creature taunting its prey.
“Please don’t kill me.” You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut as tightly as you could. The smell of copper and ancient books overwhelmed your senses as someone stood before you. 
A soft touch against your full cheek made you flinch but the hand did not move away, in fact the tips of his fingers brushed your skin, travelling slowly downwards until they touched your lips. “How could I destroy something so pure?” He whispered.
Tentatively, you cracked open one eye and your breath caught.
Before you stood the most handsome man you could imagine. Black curls framed a square jaw, dotted with dark stubble. His eyes seemed brown at first but the longer you looked, the more you realised that they were an incredibly deep red. Shallow wrinkles decorated the outside of his eyes and his mouth, making him appear incredibly human. A smile pulled at his thin lips, exposing a pair of deadly fangs. He wore an outfit of delicately embroidered silk, making him appear as a lord or a king.
Your body relaxed, allowing him to cup your jaw with a fondness you couldn’t quite understand. “There you go. See, nothing to be afraid of.” His accent was thick, very much like the way your grandfather used to speak when you were little. “Now, why don’t you tell me why you were outside my home in the dead of night wearing so little?”
It was only then that you looked down at the thin white slip you had been wearing when the men broke into your home and pulled you from your bed. “They brought me here.” You managed to say, your voice thick with tears.
The man’s dark brows lifted, prompting you to continue. You doubted you couldn’t disobey if you tried. “They said it was to stop more deaths.”
His slightly crooked nose twitched as his eyes flashed with anger. “Foolish.” He snarled under his breath, and you gasped as he squeezed your wide hip tightly, you hadn’t even realised that his hand had moved. That seemed to break him from his trance.
“Ah I apologise. To touch a lady like yourself in that way is most inappropriate. Here, let us get you warm and fed.”
Sunset licked at the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of purple and pinks until they bled into the back of night, giving way to the silver of stars. You had slept through the day, too exhausted from the night’s events to even eat once you had bathed. 
Your benefactor had provided you with a truly lavish room and clothes that were slightly outdated but made of incredibly expensive materials. He told you to rest and that he would rejoin you the next night since he had some business to take care of during the day. You were so tired, you didn’t question him but now, you wondered what possible business he could be attending to.
Too frightened to leave your room, you settled on looking through the small collection of books on the shelf next to the bed. Many of the titles were in languages you could not understand but there were a few that you recognised. Love stories and tales of valour, stories you were told when you were young before your parents had died.
Absent-mindedly, you plucked one out and turned to the first page. The words were so achingly familiar- a girl is forced into the servitude of a monster by her family. He is wary of her at first but slowly, they begin to fall for one another until she kisses him after they are attacked by the villagers and he nearly perishes. The beast turns back into a man and they spend the rest of their lives in bliss. 
“I see you are quite fond of that story as well, it has always been a favourite of mine.” His voice startled you but terror did not accompany it. You looked up from the book to see the man, who had not yet told you his name, leaning against the doorway. Unlike the night before, he wore a simple white tunic and dark trousers. 
Heat bloomed across your cheeks as you spotted the way the dark curls on his chest were exposed by the loosely tied shirt. “My mother used to read it to me.” You stammered out, causing his smile to become even softer. 
“She must have been a woman with taste.” You nodded absentmindedly, tracing the spine of the book with your fingertips. Silence settled between you and after a moment, he spoke again.
“You may ask questions, I will not punish you for being curious.” He gently took the book from you, placing it back onto the shelf before he took your hands into his own. His skin was cold, unnaturally so, and it sent a chill down your spine.
“What- who are you?” The words flew from your lips. You expected him to show some offence to your question but he just chuckled and brought your hands to his mouth. He placed a kiss on your knuckles.
“I am Count Vlad Dracula and this is my home, as it has been for centuries.” Your breath hitched, he continued. “As for your other question, I am an ancient creature who must consume blood to live. There are many names for my kind but I prefer the term vampire.” 
“Are you going to feed from me?” Your voice was barely a whisper, merely a soft exhale forced from your lungs.
“No, I would never wish to mar your perfect skin with something so sinful, not unless you beg.” Your heart jumped.
“Why would I beg for that?” But he just shook his head with a cocky smirk, refusing to answer. “Why didn’t you kill me like the others?”
Dracula sighed heavily and released your hands. “There are many monsters in this world and some are not trapped by the night. Killers and rapists, evil men who lie and manipulate for personal gain. Those are who sustain me. Their blood is sour, tainted, but I refuse to kill those who have done nothing to deserve such a death though their blood is undeniably sweeter.”
His face twisted with shame and despair, the face of a man condemned for his sins no matter how much he repented. You tentatively stepped closer to him. “You’re an avenging angel, a noble monster.”
He scoffed but it was not spiteful, in fact, it almost seemed fond. “I am no angel, I am only fulfilling a duty I was bestowed long ago.”
“You saved me, that seems quite the noble deed.” Something in your chest tugged you to him, compelling you to wrap him in your arms and hide away forever. Instead your fingers curled into the soft sieve of his shirt, anchoring you to him once more.
“Not as noble as one might think. But let us not dwell on that, you must be famished. I think a hot meal will do you some good and then maybe you can read to me by the fire.” He picked up the book once more as he gestured for you to wrap your arm through his own. You dutifully obeyed, ignoring the feeling of his muscular bicep in your hands as he led you away.
“Has this always been your home?” You asked, desperate for an interruption to the silence between you. Dracula’s eyes flicked to you briefly, the red of his irises flickering in the candlelight of the hall.
“No, for much of my human life, I lived in a village not too dissimilar to your own. But that was a very long time ago and I prefer not to think on the past.” Your mouth snapped shut and you nodded in feigned understanding. 
Your combined footsteps echoed behind you, leaving ghosts of yourselves to follow as you journeyed into the heart of the palace you had feared for so long. 
——————
Most days followed this pattern, you would sleep until early evening when Dracula would rouse you with a gentle knock at the door. He would escort you to the dining room, you would eat while he sipped at a goblet of what looked to be wine and then you both would settle in one of his many sitting rooms with a book, a new one each time. Sometimes he would tell you stories of his undead life, painting vivid pictures of far away lands and unique people. On occasion, he would detail his affliction, giving you glimpses of how this all came to be.
Then, as midnight struck, he would leave you then with a gentle kiss to your knuckles. He would return hours later, smelling of the earth and blood. 
In those moments, his eyes were always wild. In those moments, his chest puffed with air though he did not need to breathe. It did something inexplicable to you, a fire would flicker to life in your belly as wetness pooled at the apex of your thighs. He would look at you as his nostrils flared, undoubtedly inhaling your scent. He would tear himself from your presence and retreat to his chambers in the back of the palace where you were forbidden to go.
By the next evening, he would be himself once more.
“Vlad?” The vampire opened a single eye in acknowledgement from where his head lay in your lap. One of your hands was buried in his black curls, while the other held up a book which you quickly discarded to the side so you could rest your palm against his sternum. When you first touched his chest like that, the lack of a heartbeat greatly disturbed you but now, it was strangely comforting. 
“What is it my sunlight?” You tried to smile at him but you knew he could see right through you.
“Do you promise not to get mad at me?” He chuckled, his broad chest shaking beneath your hand.
“I will never get mad at you.” You breathed out a heavy sigh of relief before speaking again.
“Why have you kept me here so long? I would think that you do not need a human around that you will not feed off of. I can’t see myself providing you any real use.” His other eye snapped open and part of you screamed to stop talking, to take it back under the guise of you being too hot but another part was curious about his answer. “I suppose a woman has other uses but you have not touched me outside of moments like this so-“
Faster than you could comprehend, Vlad sat up straight, his face mere inches from yours. “Where did you come up with these ideas?”
“I-“
“If you wanted to leave, you could just leave but I guarantee the village won’t take you back.” He snarled spitefully. He scoffed and stood from the sofa but you quickly followed. Before you could think, you grabbed his hand.
The growl that escaped his lips was that of a vicious beast as he bared his deadly fangs at you, his eyes flashing bright red. A brief spike of fear raced through you and you gasped. Suddenly, he was back to himself. “I frighten you, that’s why you want to leave.”
You quickly shook your head, your grip upon his wrist tightening though you would be no match against his strength. “I am more frightened of the spiders in my room than I am of you. You tell me you are a monster yet you have never hurt me, you have been kinder to me than most humans I have met. I wonder about those things because I feel useless to you. You ask nothing of me in exchange for your home, your protection, your food. And I fear that one day you will desire something of me that I cannot give and I will have to leave you.” 
His broad shoulders sagged as he faced you once more. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” He murmured in reverence. “And I am a selfish, selfish man.”
“To keep you here, in my home, to dress you in clothes of my choosing, to have you read my books- it is selfish, entirely so but I find that I am unable to part from you. Your very existence calls to me, urges me to do terrible things just to keep myself from drinking you down. You have enchanted me, hypnotised me from the moment you stepped foot in my home and I cannot explain it. It feels as if my heart has known you for years.” Every word he spoke resonated through your chest, articulating the feelings that swirled around your mind aimlessly. You stepped closer to him and his arms wrapped around your thick waist.
“You make me feel human again.” He pulled you closer, your breasts brushed against his strong chest. “You remind me what it is to love and to be loved. You have given me a chance to live anew and I wish to give you the same chance, no matter how selfish it may be.” His right hand trailed up your arm, coming to rest at the base of your throat, his thumb pressed against the frantic beating of your pulse.
“I want to taint you, to condemn your soul to hell as long as it means that you can be by my side until eternity. I keep you here because I need you, because I crave you like the tide craves the moon, like flowers crave the sun. You are the purpose of my undead existence, I have lost too much already and I will not lose you too.”
Your eyelashes fluttered against the steel of your cheek as the tip of his nose brushed against your own. “You will never lose me, I am entirely, wholly yours.” His groan echoed through your chest, it made your skin explode in goosebumps.
“Don’t say that my sunshine.”
“Why not?” Your gaze was fixated upon his lips, eager to finally feel them upon your own.
“Because I really will make you mine. I will turn you, make you into a monster like me.” But his tone was eager, filled with desire and longing for just that.
“Then give me a chance for an everlasting life- with you.” There was a moment’s pause and then he ducked his head, his lips barely brushing against yours as they travelled down your jaw and moved along your throat, coming to rest where his thumb had been but he did not bite.
“Please Vlad.” You begged, burying your hands in his hair once more.
“I told you that you would beg for this.” He teased before his jaw hinged open and he sunk his fangs into your warm skin, quickly draining away your mortal life. You clung to the monster who was destined to kill you and all you could think was that maybe the fear you felt for so long was only a restlessness for a new beginning.
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ppssession · 7 days ago
Text
Wonderful freedom
In a long time there used to be a group of demons that lived in the human world. They were extremely lustful demons but sadly their bodies were not attractive to them. These demons that craved hot bodies came to the human world. They often lured many humans into falling for their sweet offers. Humans who fell for their sweet offers would eventually have their bodies snatched away. These demons would then possess humans.
Legend also says that it was so greedy for male genitalia that it didn't care whose body it belonged to. Kings, royalty, knights, peasants, and many others were possessed by the demon and used for sexual purposes.
Fortunately, at one point, the world of those demons was sealed off by a group of people with special powers, and the stories of demons possessing human male bodies were gradually forgotten.
When he finished reading, Brandon closed the book. “These legends are so ridiculous, where in the world would there be demons possessing men for sexual purposes?” Brandon complained about the collection of stories he had rented from a bookstore.
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The handsome young man, Brandon, put down his book and prepared to go to the library to return the boring book he had borrowed.
Shortly after Brandon returned the book, he began wandering around the large library, looking for interesting books to take home and read.
But suddenly the library became dark. Even though he wondered what was going on, he continued walking to find the book he wanted to read. He walked back and forth in the darkness where he could see things.
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After a while, he found a strange-looking book. It was a black book with an eye in the middle. At first, Brandon thought it was just a fancy book with just plain paper inside.
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But as he was about to walk away, his mind felt strange, as if his body was being led to open that book, his mind ordered it to be that book, he slowly walked over to touch the book, when he picked it up, he felt that something was definitely going to happen, but he still couldn't stop himself from opening the book.
When he opened it, he looked inside, there were countless unknown characters, and those characters slowly floated out, they gathered together and turned into a large smoke, as the large smoke in front of him rushed into his body, a large amount of smoke entered his body through his mouth, causing Brandon's body to twist, his muscles twitched, and his eyes rolled back.
The book cover slowly crawled into the smoke, and the strange-looking book turned into an ordinary book.
Brandon's body, which was inhaled by the strange smoke, slowly twisted his muscles and moved his neck a few times before speaking with an evil smile, "I confess, I'm free now. That stupid seal only locked me for a few hundred years. Do you think I can't wait?"
A demon that desires a human body like mine can live for hundreds of thousands of years, it wouldn't know. The demon possessing Brandon replied yes as his body rubbed against it. "Wow, it seems I hit the jackpot, this body is insane, these muscles are making me horny," a large tent formed between Brandon's legs.
But unfortunately, I don't have enough power. I'll let this guy control his body for now while I take my time to recover and devour him. Haha, after speaking, Brandon's eyes rolled back and forth, he regained control of himself, and he couldn't remember anything about the strange book. "What happened? Oh yeah, I got the book from the library. Oh, I can't remember. Never mind, let's go home."
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After that, about a month passed. แบรนดอนกำลังนั่งสบายๆ อยู่ในบ้านหลังจากทำธุระมาทั้งวัน เมื่อเขารู้สึกแปลกๆ ในท้อง
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“Ahh, what happened?” Brandon’s body didn’t listen to his commands, it started moving on its own without his control, his muscles tensed, his penis hardened uncontrollably.
His hands were rubbing his body, now Brandon's mind was spinning, instead of being afraid, his mind was enjoying this feeling, the feeling that something was slowly taking over him, his eyes rolled back, that was the last time the real Brandon was conscious, suddenly his eyes returned to normal.
I'm so horny
The devil has taken over Brandon's body.
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Okay, I have to deal with my hard cock first. One hand unzipped my pants and pulled out my big, thick, long cock from my pants.
His thick hand lightly touched the large cock, the other hand played with the nipple that was on his shirt. The moans of a man possessed by a demon echoed throughout the room that only he could hear.
Soon, the new Brandon was chasing after the climax, the speed of his hand was increasing, the rhythm was becoming unstable. In no time, the moan of the possessed man was heard along with the semen flowing out of the tip of his cock. “Ahhhhh.”
Brandon took a weak breath, this was his first release after being sealed away. He picked up his phone and found news of a new park being built in a nearby town. “Oh yeah, that’s where another one of my friends is locked up. I should probably go help him out, since he has the same taste in body possession as me.
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Then the devil took a photo of himself with his new hot body a few hours later. The new Brandon was busy masturbating all night long.
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After finishing, I must say that this story will have a sequel where Brandon will release the demons that are imprisoned in various places. Let's see what kind of demon friends the new Brandon will meet. See you, bye.
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aquaticmercy · 29 days ago
Text
What is a blood bond?
Companion piece to Dark Necessities
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x half-vampire! reader (written with she/her pronouns in mind)
Summary : You are a starving daywalker who needs to feed on human blood. Bucky offers himself to you. In doing so, you formed a blood bond, but you don’t know that yet. This details what a blood bond means to both of you.
Warnings/tags : Blood. Violent descriptions. Soulmates. Vampires.
Note : Reader is a daywalker like Blade (half-vampire who can walk in the sun) “bloodlust” is by no means my most popular story, I just loved the potential for world-building here! This is written like a chapter of a book for vampire hunters, explaining how a blood bond works. This is completely self indulgent. Enjoy!
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The Blood Bond – Understanding the Most Dangerous Bond in Vampirism
The Blood Bond, the rarest and most potent connection in the vampire world, remains an unclear topic as a whole, but here is that we know. 
Its origins are unrecorded and the true nature of this bond is known only through legends told over centuries. This chapter examines the known nature of the Blood Bond.
Soulmates
The Blood Bond represents more than mere companionship; it is a merging of souls that binds two beings into a singular existence. Unlike common vampiric connections, often formed out of survival, the Blood Bond is both rarer and more powerful. 
This bond only manifests when a vampire encounters their true soulmate.
Not every vampire has a soulmate, and Vampires can experience intense love and devotion without forming a blood bond. A soulmate is different— a person whose soul resonates with another’s so powerfully that according to legend, it is necessary for the balance of the universe itself. It is theorised to be a cosmic union, vital to the balance of the timeline.
Scholars have posited that soulmates are destined to meet across every possible timeline, becoming an “absolute point” in reality. While these soulmates are most often linked by love, some are bound by all-consuming hatred.
The path to a Blood Bond tests a vampire’s endurance and loyalty, demanding an unwavering commitment to a union that may or may not be attainable. 
How the Blood Bond is Formed
The ritual that creates a Blood Bond requires the vampire to drink the blood of their soulmate. 
This act triggers a merging of souls, sealing two lives together in both the physical and spiritual realm.
The Blood Bond can only form between a vampire and a mortal and never between two vampires.
The bond is the only time a mortal find a vampire drinking their blood enjoyable. There are some accounts that suggests the feeding is intensely pleasurable to both parties. 
However, the connection comes at a price and may carry severe consequences.
Rarity
The Blood Bond’s rarity is attributed to the fact that it requires a true soulmate.
While vampires may form powerful bonds (see familiar bond page 66), the Blood Bond is different in its exclusivity. Old texts seem to suggest that only fate can determine a match, and no force— whether love, desire, or determination— can manufacture it. 
Historical records indicate that the last known Blood Bond occurred in the 1600s, a testament to its extreme rarity.
Sacredness
The Blood Bond is a surrender of self. It is a complete exposure of mind, body, and soul. 
The Blood Bond is a covenant of absolute devotion, loyalty, and sacrifice.
Ancient scrolls have stated that the  bond’s sacred nature means that neither life nor death can sever the connection. Vampires regard the Blood Bond as both a treasure and a curse, recognising it as a connection so profound it defies earthly limitations.
Shared Sensations
Through the Blood Bond, both lives experience each other’s physical and emotional states. 
Physical wounds inflicted on one will be felt on the other. Emotions are also shared across the bond.
The experience of intimacy and pleasure is amplified, cascading between the two in an endless cycle of shared sensations that no other bond can achieve.
This closeness poses a risk, as it renders each partner vulnerable to the other’s injuries and emotional turmoil. This state of interdependency requires a balance, as one’s suffering inevitably becomes the other’s.
Psychological Dangers
While some romanticise it, the Blood Bond is dangerous, particularly when one partner endures trauma, despair, or anger. 
If one soulmate is overwhelmed by darkness, the other often feels it with an intensity that may become unbearable. 
Many vampires bonded in this way have struggled to separate their minds from the bond. The loss of a soulmate has often led to madness.
In all previous cases, blood bonded vampires will descend into a grief-fuelled violent rampage as soon their mortal counterpart dies. 
One historical account from the 11th century records the death toll from blood bond rampage in the tens of thousands (see the Blood Tragedy of the Pala Empire, page 254).
Because of this, it is imperative to kill a blood bonded vampire the first chance a hunter gets.
The Blood Bond’s Power
The Blood Bond is revered and feared across the supernatural world, coveted by vampires and other beings for its unique abilities. 
Blood Bonded individuals hold the most potent blood for ritual magic, even surpassing that of daywalkers (see page 332), making them vulnerable targets for those seeking to exploit this quality.
They are often hunted by cultists, witches, and even other vampire sects.
For this reason, vampires who are bonded to a soulmate often keep the bond secret.
Shared Powers Through the Bond
One of the Blood Bond’s most mysterious effects is its ability to grant shared powers between the vampire and their mortal soulmate. 
When the Blood Bond is established, the mortal partner will gain vampiric abilities (see page 17).
In rare historical accounts, there is mention of an 8th-century vampire who was bonded to an enhanced indovidual—a mortal possessing extraordinary strength and speed by nature. When bonded, the two amplify each other’s ability. Their strength was nearly unmatched— it is unclear how they were killed.
This union remains the strongest account of the Blood Bond’s potential, though it has yet to be replicated.
Daywalkers and the Blood Bond
There have been no known instances of a daywalker forming a Blood Bond. While it is speculated that a Blood Bond with a daywalker might confer even more unique abilities, no records exist to confirm this theory. Both daywalkers and Blood Bonds are exceptionally rare phenomena, and the likelihood of a daywalker finding their true soulmate is considered a statistical impossibility.
Daywalkers are seen as almost mythological, and even if one were to find their soulmate, there is no guarantee a Blood Bond would actually form. While improbable, it has never been proven impossible, leaving the door open to speculation within supernatural circles.
The Discovery of a Soulmate
The revelation of a Blood Bond can only be made through the act of feeding. There is no way to identify a soulmate beforehand, no indicator or that points to such a person until the bond is initiated. It is only through the bite—the exchange of blood—that the potential for a Blood Bond is revealed.
Once a vampire bites their potential soulmate, the bond either manifests or it does not. 
If a Blood Bond is destined to form, both the vampire and mortal have been described to experience a profound connection. The act of feeding becomes pleasurable, marking the first clue to the formation of the bond.
Many vampires are hesitant to seek out the Blood Bond, fearing the vulnerability it brings, while others may avoid it entirely due to the possible consequences. 
Once a Blood Bond is forged, it cannot be undone.
-end
I might make a part 2 to Bloodlust 👀
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asliceofzosan · 1 year ago
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sanji has always known he loved zoro.
subconsciously.
it's hidden in the steps he takes to maneuver around the sleeping marimo on the deck. it's written in the recipes he creates to account for the amount of nutrients he needs for his frankly ridiculous workout routine. it's embedded so deeply in the way he fights, back to back, one leg swinging in perfect synergy with zoro's blade. how he stands on his blind side more often on the field. but stands on his good side when they have a conversation.
so the words "i love you" come naturally to him. it's like he was always meant to say it to zoro. his presence was an appetizer. his words, the entreé. his actions, a delectable dessert that even his sweets-hating boyfriend craves for after a long day.
but sanji has never heard those three little words from zoro. not even once.
and sure, it's not like he goes around saying i love you to every beautiful lady he meets. he knows the gravity of such words. he knows how someone saying it can affect you in ways that can barely be comprehended by the human mind. it stirs something within ourselves that awakens the age old yearning to be cherished. to be held.
to be worth something to someone.
sanji can remember the rare times someone said i love you to him. once held in his mother's arms in a tender embrace that weakens with each passing second, it was whispered against his temple, frail fingers combing through his hair, and he cries without knowing that it would be the last time he hears those words for a very long time. once shaking in zeff's arms as the nightmares roar louder in his head than the storm that rattled the windows of the newly opened baratie, the older man choosing to be gentle with the child he willingly gave everything to in order to survive.
he's never heard it from someone who loved him like a partner. loved him like an equal. loved him in ways lovers are supposed to love each other.
maybe it's because he never had one of those until zoro. for the longest time, he survived on fairy tales and myths and legends. oral tradition passed down through generations of every family he encounters on their adventures out at sea. and though his life as a prince was nothing like the pictures painted in children's books, he always longed for a princess of his own. someone he could save from the proverbial tower guarded by a fearsome dragon.
he wanted someone to love him like a hero. their hero. someone who admires him for all the things he desperately projects for others to see him as worth keeping around.
zoro isn't a princess by any means. he's honestly so much more like the dragon. but also not. fearsome as he is fearful. immensely strong as he is soft hearted. a steady pillar as he is the first to crumble at sanji's touch.
and zoro never admired him like a hero. never cared about the best foot forward sanji took care to show others. in fact, he saw right through him from the very moment they met. it irritated sanji to no end how someone like that stupid marimo could read him like an open book. he took care to make sure the pages of his story that he deems undesirable were sealed away under lock and key. no one needed to know the plot points that brought him where he is. he needs to be the hero. he needs to be seen as the hero in his story.
but who exactly was he trying to save?
what kind of hero has no one to save?
it took several years for him to realize that the person he needed to save was himself. and zoro knew that.
of course he fucking did.
he never mollycoddled him. never softened the blow. always blunt and direct with him. it drove sanji up the wall once with how little tact he had. eventually, he actually started to appreciate how zoro never once sugarcoated anything with him. if he was upset, he'd show it. if he was happy, it would shine in his gaze clear as day.
and if he was in love?
well.
sanji can admit it took him much longer to realize that the love he felt for zoro was not only reciprocated but was so much deeper than what three little words could possibly convey.
there's a permanent space for zoro next to sanji, right in front of the sink, when dinner is over and the soapy water goes up to his elbows. the windows are always open in the crow's nest when sanji's watch comes right after zoro's, just enough for the smoke to escape but the smell to linger. the wordless nod zoro gives him when sanji is combing through marketplaces and dragged him along to be his pack mule. the strategically placed shoulder for him to jump off of when sanji needs to launch himself at an oncoming enemy.
the 2am fights that devolve into holding each other and apologizing without saying any words at all.
the way zoro carries him back to his bunk when he's fallen asleep in the galley writing recipes down. the kiss to his forehead. the hand that runs through his hair.
and here sanji thought his actions were the sweet dessert. for in the dead of night, when no one is watching, zoro's devotion is blinding. zoro's love shines like a beacon in a dark, stormy night.
the dragon perched on the roof of the tower, breathing fire for the lost prince to find his way home.
so sanji lets zoro comb through the pages of his story that he doesn't tell anyone else. he lets zoro guide his hand to flip to the blank pages, allows him to convince him that the parts of his story that mattered are the ones written by his own hand. and if the pages are soon filled with endless adventures of the prince and his swordsman, no one else will really understand it.
no one except zoro.
so yes. sanji always knew he loved zoro and that zoro loved him back just as fiercely or maybe even more.
even if he never heard those three little words.
what sanji doesn't know, is that when zoro is sure he is fast asleep, zoro whispers those words against sanji's ear. like a revenant prayer to a god. zoro doesn't believe in god.
but he believes in sanji. he always did.
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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months ago
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Weinersmith and Boulet’s “Bea Wolf”
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On July 14, I'm giving the closing keynote for the fifteenth HACKERS ON PLANET EARTH, in QUEENS, NY. Happy Bastille Day! On July 20, I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.
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Bea Wolf is Zach Weinersmith and Boulet's ferociously amazingly great illustrated kids' graphic novel adaptation of the Old English epic poem, which inspired Tolkien, who helped bring it to popularity after it had languished in obscurity for centuries:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250776297/beawolf
Boy is this a wildly improbable artifact. Weinersmith and Boulet set themselves the task of bringing Germanic heroic saga from more than a thousand years ago to modern children, while preserving the meter and the linguistic and literary tropes of the original. And they did it!
There are some changes, of course. Grendel – the boss monster that both Beowulf and Bea Wulf must defeat – is no longer obsessed with decapitating his foes and stealing their heads. In Bea Wulf, Grendel is a monstrously grown up and boring adult who watches cable news and flosses twice per day, and when he defeats the kids whose destruction he is bent upon, he does so by turning them into boring adults, too.
And Bea Wulf – and the kings that do battle with Grendel – are not interested in the gold and jewels that the kings of Beowulf hoard. In Bea Wulf, the treasure is toys, chocolate, soda, candy, food without fiber, television shows without redeeming educational content, water balloons, nerf swords and spears, and other stuff beloved of kids and hated by parents.
That substitution is key to transposing the thousand-year-old adult epic Beowulf for enjoyment by small children in the 21st century. After all, what makes Beowulf so epic is the sense that it is set in a time in which a primal valor still reigned, but it is narrated for an audience that has been tamed and domesticated. Beowulf makes you long for a never-was time of fierce and unwavering bravery. Bea Wulf beautifully conjures the years of early childhood when you and the kids in your group had your own little sealed-off world, which grownups could barely perceive and never understand.
Growing up, after all, is a process of repeating things that are brave the first time you do them, over and over again, until they become banal. That's what "coming of age" really boils down to: the slow and relentless transformation of the mythic, the epic, and the unknowable and unknown into the tame, the explained, the mastered. When you're just mastering balance and coordination, the playground climber is a challenge out of legend. A couple years later, it's just something you climb.
The correspondences between the leeching away of magic lamented in Beowulf and experienced by all of us as we grow out of childhood are obvious in hindsight and surprising and beautiful and bittersweet when you encounter them in Bea Wolf.
This effect owes a large debt to Boulet's stupendous artwork. Boulet brings a vibe rarely seen in American kids' illustration, owing quite a lot to France's bande dessinée tradition. Of course, this is a Firstsecond book, and they established themselves as an exciting and fresh kids' publisher in the USA nearly 20 years ago by bringing some of Europe's finest comics to an American audience for the first time. You can get a sense of Boulet's darker-than-average, unabashedly anarchic illustrations here:
https://www.comixtrip.fr/bibliotheque/bea-wolf-weinersmith-boulet-albin-michel/
The utter brilliance of Bea Wulf is as much due to the things it preserves from the original epic as it is to the updates and changes. Weinersmith has kept the Old English tradition of alliteration, right from the earliest passages, with celebrations of heroes like "Tanya, treat-taker, terror of Halloween, her costume-cache vast, sieging kin and neighbor, draining full candy-bins, fearing not the fate of her teeth. Ten thousand treats she took. That was a fine Tuesday."
Weinersmith also preserves the kennings – the elaborate figurative compound phrases that replace nouns – that turn ordinary names and places into epithets at you have to riddle out, like calling a river "the sliding sea."
These literary devices, rarely seen today, are extremely powerful, and they conjure up the force and mystique that has kept Beowulf in our current literary discourse for more than a millennium. They also make this a super fun book to read aloud.
When Jim Henson was first conceiving of Sesame Street, he made a point of designing it to have jokes and riffs that would appeal to adults, even if some of the nuance would be lost on kids. He did this because he wanted to make art that adults and kids could enjoy together, both because that would give adults a chance to help kids actively explore the ideas on-screen, but also because it would bring some magic into those adults' lives.
This is a very winning combination (not for nothing, it's also the original design brief for Disneyland). Weinersmith and Boulet have produced a first-rate work of adult and kid literature, both a perfect entree to Beowulf for anyone contemplating a dive into old English epic poetry, and a kids' book full of booger jokes and transgressive scenes of perfect mischief.
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Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/24/awesome-alliteration/#hellion-hallelujah
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ryin-silverfish · 8 months ago
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Could you tell us more about fox spirits? or what you know about them? Since the Kitsune is the fox spirit that people popularize the most, information on the Huli Jing is difficult to search for.
*Deep Breath*
Man, oh man. On one hand, I am fascinated by fox spirits, on the other hand, entire books have been written on them (in Chinese), and there are a staggering amount of Qing dynasty fox tales in Yuewei Caotang Biji (阅微草堂笔记) and Liaozhai Zhiyi,(聊斋志异) it's hard to know where to start.
[Previous ask about nine-tailed foxes, the duality of auspicious and demonic, and Su Daji]
Fox spirits, like any other yaoguais, is an animal that has lived long enough and absorbed enough Qi to gain sentience. Through cultivation, they can eventually gain a human form.
According to Tang folklore, they need to wear a human skull on their head while bowing to the Dipper stars/moon, without the skull falling off, in order to transform into a human.
However, foxes are also talented shapeshifters and tricksters who have this reputation for seducing humans, male and female alike.
In earlier legends, that's just their nature, but Ming and Qing tales expanded on that, stating foxes have sex with human to drain their Qi or life force, because they need those to form an Inner Core——an orb of solidified Qi that contains all of their cultivation and life force.
(Usually, it's female foxes seducing human men, because they need some of that sweet, sweet Yang force to compliment their Yin.)
(But some Ming folklore collection said that male foxes also go after guys in the guise of women, while in others, male foxes are just seducers of women.)
(Oh, and there are actual lesbian foxes in Qing legends. Like Feng Sanniang from Liaozhai Zhiyi.)
But one must keep in mind that foxes, like all yaoguais, are not inherently good or evil. For every sexual predator and Daji-like temptress, there exists a graceful scholar, a chill friend, or a lovestruck girl (Liaozhai is full of human-fox romances).
Like, there is a tale in Yuewei Caotang Biji that's just a guy chatting with his 50-60 looking fox associate about how foxes cultivate. When asked why he's so candid about this stuff, he really sums up it best:
"There are good and bad ones among our kind, just like humans. If you humans don't shy away from speaking of human evil, why should I?"
He then proceeds to talk about how legit fox cultivators collect the essence of sun and moon like any regular Daoists, while the ones that seduce human and suck away their life forces are taking a shortcut and inviting heavenly retribution in the form of thunderbolts.
Other Qing legends introduce the hilarious concept that all aspiring foxes must pass an exam organized by the Lady of Mt. Tai, to, well, earn their cultivation permit. Not even foxes are free from the clutches of imperial examinations, it seems!
Still, their old auspicious association does give rise to the archetype of "cultivator/sorcerer foxes", as well as a higher chance of recruitment into the Celestial Bureaucracy.
Which might explain why foxes were so frequently venerated in popular religion. Like, northern China has this thing called the "Five Great Immortals" (五大仙), five species of cultivated animals that people worship:
Hu (胡), Foxes
Huang (黄), Weasels
Bai (白), Hedgehogs
Liu (柳), Snakes
Hui (灰), Rats
When I travelled to the city of Pingyao, Shanxi last summer, one of the sites I visited had a Yuan dynasty building, and its second level is a shrine dedicated to the "Fox Immortal", guardian of the imperial official's seal.
Fun fact: fox spirits have a habit of impersonating Buddhas and Bodhisattvas in Tang dynasty legends. Manjusri and Maitreya seems to be the most popular choice, and in 三遂平妖传, a Ming dynasty novel, "Sagely Old Lady"(圣姑姑) the heavenly fox also impersonates Bodhisattva Samantabhadra.
So imagine my surprise when I actually encountered some foxes next to a highway during the same trip, while visiting Mt. Wutai, Manjusri's sacred mountain!
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whtsyours · 6 months ago
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"Local legend says on this night every year, lovers' souls separated in death can find each other. So people write the name of their beloved, seal it in a bottle, and send it out to sea so their souls can reunite if they so desire. On this side or the other." Nancy Drew (2019-2023) Taylor Swift, Message In A Bottle (Taylor's Version) [From The Vault]
Dedicated to the best book club in the world, ily <3
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callimara · 3 months ago
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Breath of the Wild!Jelsa AU (Analysis & Parallels)
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Yes yes I know I’m at it again but dear reader, I ask that you once again HEAR ME OUT and LET ME COOK.
At some point in the middle of the day today as I am cleaning the house, the idea came to me like a vision and the more I thought about it, the more the lines started CONNECTING and MAKING SENSE.
In part I am writing this as I have a deep love for both The Legend of Zelda franchise (and Breath of the Wild IN PARTICULAR as my first Zelda game) AND Rise of the Guardians (I do not feel particularly strongly about Frozen aside from Elsa as a character, but I DO feel EXTREMELY strongly for Jelsa, which is NECESSARY for this AU and comparison to work!!!) and another part an attempt to get my very good, very intelligent, extremely GIFTED friend and favorite fic writer @therentyoupay into ANOTHER ship I am deeply passionate about: ZeLink.
So perhaps this analysis post can be best summed up as "Explaining ZeLink through the lens of Jelsa" or vise versa.
In fact, ZeLink is another ship I am already planning a video on, but for now, this particular AU calls to me and demands to be elaborated on and perhaps illustrated at some point 👀
Who is Who?
For this post, I will be focusing on the Three Bearers of the Triforce:
Ganon/Ganondorf (Triforce of Power),
Zelda (Triforce of Wisdom), and
Link (Triforce of Courage),
who are always being reborn and fated meet, and the central characters of every LOZ story (but we'll get to the Champions in the next post)
As the prevailing bearer of the Triforce of Power, Ganon or Ganondorf (his human form) is the archnemesis of Link and Zelda.
With titles such as The Prince of Darkness and The Demon King, it's only right that this role is given to Pitch Black.
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Power
Unlike Link or Zelda whom, among their many incarnations, may not be in possession of their respective Triforces, Ganon is always the bearer of the Triforce of Power due to his sheer desire for ruling the world with an iron fist. This is the same desire expressed by Pitch Black in both the movies and books, as his ambition is to cover the world in darkness and fear: completely under his control. Their powers are similar in nature, it corrupts and leaves a stain (malice) on the wider environment. They share a love of conquest and destruction and delight in seeing those around them suffer.
Scheming
Though both Ganon and Pitch are undoubtedly capable of taking what they want with sheer brute force, both characters possess a penchant for scheming and tactical strategy. They conquer not only on the battlefield, but in the court of politics, where necessary. Though we don't see this demonstrated in BOTW, we do see his political savvy and the extend of his scheming in Tears of the Kingdom when he still possessed his human form. They are incredibly dangerous tacticians that is often one step ahead of the heroes, thus able to out-maneuver them and gain the upper hand.
Hubris
As is often their undoing, their confidence in being ahead causes them to lose their composure. Power corrupts, and this weakness of mind causes them to make fatal, self-destructive mistakes that create an opening for the Hero to seize.
A Hero Destined to Rise Against Him
In both of Ganon/Ganondorf and Pitch's cases, they are destined to be ultimately defeated by a Chosen Hero who wields a Weapon that can seal their Darkness.
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Which segways us perfectly to our next character, our Chosen Hero!
Unsurprisingly, Jack Frost fits Link's role as the Hero of the Wild in the story perfectly.
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Chosen for A Big Destiny
Although unlike Link, Jack was not personally aware of the "why" for his existence and recruitment into the Guardians until much much later, he was indeed, nevertheless chosen. The reasons for his choosing, in broad strokes, are similar to Link's circumstances. Both of them demonstrated high levels of relevant proficiency and prowess in their respective roles (Guardian/Royal Knight) which led to them being chosen for their respective titles. Link as the Princess' Appointed Knight and Legendary Hero Who Wields The Sword That Seals the Darkness, and Jack as the Immortal Spirit of Winter and later, Guardian of Fun Destined to Save the Guardians and Defeat Pitch Black.
Rebirth
A striking resemblance between Jack and BOTW Link is perhaps their theme of "the end becomes the beginning" in which both experience Death After a Great Sacrifice and are Reborn Anew. Both of these fairy boys died protecting someone they cared about, regardless of cost or consequence, and upon being brought to life from the brink of death, they are forever changed as people.
For Jack, this comes in the form of new powers, new domains, and the new experience in being a Spirit. For Link, it's a bit more literal, as he seemingly adopts a much more open, lively, carefree personality in the absence of his former duties, burdens, and responsibilities that (in canon) brings him to resemble Jack Frost better than his former persona as a royal knight.
Loss of Memory
Another striking resemblance between Jack and Link is the circumstances of their rebirth, which came at the cost of their memories and their former identities. Not knowing who they were or what their purpose was, they wandered the land aimlessly in search of meaning, until destiny eventually guides them to their Reason for Existing.
In fact, both of their rebirths also involve being lifted from pools of water
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But even though both Jack and Link recover some semblance of their memories and identities Before, it is unclear just how much left remained lost.
Past Lives
Let’s be real here, Pre-Calamity Link is NOTHING like Pre-Spirit Jack. While Pre-Calamity Link is serious, focused, stoic and Silent, Jack has pretty much always been the same person before and after his Rebirth. But, Jack was also a simple peasant boy who Definitely Had No Ambition To Become A Knight. But in this AU, let’s say he did. Let’s say he was determined to follow in his father’s footsteps to become a royal knight. Let’s say he finds the Legendary Weapon That Seals The Darkness, and that seals his fate.
Certainly, he’ll never be as serious and stoic or Silent as Pre-Calamity Link was, no matter how much pressure he’s in. But perhaps, it makes him just a bit more Intense and Guarded.
Lone Wolf But Stronger in a Pack
Obviously we know that Jack Frost flew solo for pretty much his entire life as a spirit, and he gained quite a renown for himself in doing so, and it it s indisputable that while he was Strong On His Own, he was Much Stronger With The Guardians. Despite never working in a team before, teamwork came naturally to Jack, and it only served to amplify his strengths while covering his weaknesses.
Now, what about Link? For the majority of BOTW, Link travels alone, and while he is completely Lethal and Unstoppable as is, similarly to Jack, he only really grows stronger through reconnecting with the Ghosts of his deceased friends, who each lend him their Power and Support in a more literal sense. Once you resolve each quest in the Four Regions of Hyrule, your friends will make the final battle against Calamity Ganon much easier than if you were to head straight there by yourself.
And of course, Link would not have been able to defeat Calamity Ganon at all if it hadn’t been for Princess Zelda, and the reverse is also true. They must work together to Seal Calamity Ganon for the next 10,000 years.
Devoted
Both Link and Jack are deeply dedicated to those they have formed attachments to. If you played BOTW and/or TOTK, you know just how deeply devoted and dutiful Link was to Zelda, willing to let the entire Kingdom of Hyrule fall to keep her safe, choosing to stay with her and help her escape the kingdom (abandoning his Duty, abandoning his Destiny) and just as willing to lay his life down to spare hers.
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Jack is similarly dedicated as we see from his interactions and protectiveness of Baby Tooth and Jamie Bennett, and how he charged straight into the eye of the storm of Pitch’s sand vortex to save Sandy. Those who give love to him, he gives love readily back.
Wild
This one is quite self-explanatory, but I will explain anyway!
As the titular Hero of the Wild, Link is every bit a woodsman and outdoor survivalist as his name implies. He is an unstoppable force of nature that can and will survive anything nature throw at him (be it lightning strikes, monsters, or Laser-Blasting-Malice-Possessed Guardians [no, not THOSE Guardians]). Link thrives in the wilderness, just him and the elements, and perhaps the occasional pot lid and soup ladle (if he’s really strapped for weapons, a mop will also do). Really, it speaks to his resourcefulness and resilience, his independence and self-sufficiency. Though perhaps, at the cost of certain things like manners, propriety, and respect for public and/or private property (of course he had to break all those clay pots, what if there was something inside? Of course he had to jump into the garden pond and grab fish with his bare hands, how else is he going to get protein for his seafood meunière? of course—). Much like Jack Frost.
If there was one word to describe the Winter Spirit, it was certainly, and similarly, ‘Wild.’ After all, he is undoubtedly the most unpredictable spirit to become a guardian, and even before then, he had made a name for himself for being quite formidable and intimidatingly ferocious when he wants to be. He does as he pleases with no fear or shame of what others may think. And similarly, this often lands both Blond Fairy Boys a fierce scolding from many people, not that it deters their behaviour in any way shape or form.
They will learn absolutely nothing from these scoldings and will 100% do it again. But stealthier, craftier, perhaps.
Unless, of course, the scolding comes from a Particular Wise and Beautiful Princess. Only then they will consider. And it is only this Wise and Beautiful Princess who is capable of tempering their wildness just enough to be a functioning member of the community.
Fearless
As the Triforce of Courage, it is perhaps a given that its bearer will readily face down any challenge or adversary without hesitation. No matter how big, no matter how impossible, no matter what. Jack and Link are always ready for a fight, for action; their heart pumps for the thrill of adventure and the unknown, new experiences, meeting new people. The two are travelers who prefer to take the scenic—read: deeply unconventional and unsafe—route, taking as many detours as possible. And if they land in trouble, then it’s all the more Fun.
Jack and Link are Fearless in every way one could be. For Link, it is simply in his immortal, undying nature. For Jack, as Fear’s archenemy, he cannot afford to harbor it within him, and that is precisely how he navigated his way through immortality: with Fun and Light and Hope. Diving headfirst from a giant waterfall? Bring it on! Taking on an entire hoard of ferocious monsters alone with nothing but a pot lid and soup ladle? Challenge accepted. Jumping on the backs of Animals You Definitely Shouldn’t Use as Mounts and riding them anyway? Give them five minutes.
Notoriously Good-Looking
To keep it short and sweet, both Link and Jack have been described in their respective media (by various characters) to be notably handsome, and they themselves are aware of this fact and Very Confident About It. They are very comfortable in their own skin (perhaps too comfortable) though their handsomeness does not always shine through, in great part due to their Erratic Behaviour and Strange Fashion Choices (“look, it made perfect sense at the time.”).
Jack-of-all-Trades
Both Jack and Link are undoubtedly masters at their signature weapons (Jack with his Shepherd’s Crook and Link with the Master Sword and Hylian Shield), though Link has a more diverse skill set than Jack as per the ROTG movie. Link excels with any kind of weapon (or even household objects) he can get his hands on: short swords and clubs, two-handed weapons (including but not limited to: great swords, axes, and bats), spears, wands, and arguably his strongest weapon, the bow and arrow, with which he is able to shoot up to five arrows at once in a spread and enter Bullet Time when he is in the air. And he can also do all this on horseback, of course. It makes him an incredibly versatile fighter and well-equipped for survival in the wild.
While Jack is limited to his Shepherd’s Crook in the movie, he does not exclusively wield it as such. In the action scenes of the movie, we see Jack wield his staff to cast magic like a wand, attack with the slicing motion of a sword, the stabbing of a spear, and even the swing of a bat. In the books, 5 years after the movie’s release, William Joyce has also written Jack to be able to shapeshift his staff into a bow and arrow, giving him a more Hunter-like appearance
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He is also apparently fluent in squirrel and chipmunk speak. I did not know this.
Something I did in “more than you know” (my collab fic with therentyoupay) was push this ability a bit further to allow Jack to shapeshift his staff into a variety of weapons, not just a bow and arrow, such as an ice sword or axe. We can apply the same idea here, to better reconcile the skillsets of Jack and Link.
But a shared key trait that already exists is that without any weapons (barehanded) Jack and Link cannot fight (unlike their Princesses, who are stronger with their magic as opposed to any physical weapon).
Snowboarding/Shield-Surfing
Fun is an essential component of Jack’s character. It is his CORE, what makes him WHO HE IS. However, it is also an important part of Link’s character, particularly post-Calamity. Aside from frolicking in—read: terrrorizing—the wilderness, campfire-cooking, and completing Korok puzzles, a favorite pastime of Link’s is an activity called shield-surfing, which is exactly what it sounds like: using his shield to sled down hills of grass, deserts, and snowy mountains. And he’s quite good at it too! Canonically, he holds several records in shield-surfing from the snowy peaks of Hebra to the vast Gerudo Desert, and even incorporates it into his fighting.
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And who else would be particularly terrific at snowboarding other than Jack Frost himself? It was actually stated in the DVD Featurette for Rise of the Guardians that Jack’s entire concept was inspired by skateboarders, and that they wanted him to glide in the wind with the skill of an Olympic snowboarder (hey anyone wanna make an AU with Olympic Snowboarder Jack?), which we do see him doing with his staff at several points in the movie!
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Clearly, this is a perfect parallel. A mirror even. If you will.
Smart Mouth
One of my (and I’m sure many others) favorite things about Jack is his quick-with and sharp tongue. He’s always ready with a sassy remark or a snide comment and I think that’s one of the things that make him so Fun! Now, for a comparison with Link, you’re probably thinking this should be a major difference as Link is well known to be The Silent Protagonist Ever, but as many players of BOTW and TOTK have noticed and accurately pointed out, Link is given dialogue options for the players to choose from when interacting with NPCs, which in itself implies that that is Link speaking and responding to NPCs questions.
I am of the opinion that these are Link’s own words rather than the “player’s” responses being spoken through Link, and the reason I think this is because these options show off some degree of personality rather than remaining neutral to allow players to project onto them, and often times more or less reiterate the same message, just in different words (hinting that IC, Link will ONLY agree or disagree to those things).
some of my favorite examples of Link’s dialogue options:
Making seal puns while renting sand seals:
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The one below is exemplary because the only two options are either to flirt shamelessly or ruin her day.
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This is also not including the fact Eiji Aonuma (the creator of The Legend of Zelda) himself has said that all Links are “bastards” in their own unique ways and indeed, the persistent inclusion of his jerky and sassy dialogue options across all LOZ games is further evidence of this.
So of course, who better to keep this sassy lost child in check than The Wisest Person in the Land?
Zelda Hyrule, the Triforce of Wisdom is the perfect role for someone like Elsa Arendelle.
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There are many parallels between this iteration of Zelda (as opposed to other Zelda’s of the different games) and Elsa.
Wisdom
As the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom, all incarnations of Zelda are blessed with superior intelligence and wisdom, traits that are also prevalent in Elsa. The Triforce of Wisdom doesn't JUST impart divine wisdom upon its holder, it also grants the holder untold mystical abilities (see: Elsa's ice powers and ability to create sentient life), and the ability to heal others (see: Elsa thawing Anna and the Fjord). The Triforce of Wisdom leads its holder to make the right decisions, making them wiser than any mortal. Elsa is much the same, though hers is a result of her own temperament and upbringing.
As the Triforce of Wisdom, Zelda is a constant presence of guidance and support for Link in many of her game iterations (including this one), and she has always stood side by side with him to defeat Ganon.
Duty-Bound
Both Elsa and Zelda have momentous weights on their shoulders as the Crown Princesses of their respective kingdoms, and this is a responsibility that both Princess-turned-Queens take very seriously. Though this position brings them no joy—if not, in fact the complete opposite—they are deeply devoted to their cause, their kingdom, their families, and as a result, they continue to strive to excel in it and meet seemingly impossible expectations. They force themselves to fit the mold of this role, even at the cost of who they are as a person and their personal wants or desires.
Hiding their true selves
This is a very large proponent of both Elsa and Zelda's struggle in their respective stories:
Elsa has had to hide her ice powers for the majority of her life. But her ice powers are something that is inextricably a large part of who she is, something she cannot change or be rid of, and yet it is something she was made to never express or show or hone. Instead, she has had to suppress and neglect them to pass as "normal." She had been raised to associate her powers with fear, with danger, with solation. She was made to see them as useless, something to be ashamed of, and something to never be given a second glance.
Zelda is a scholar and a researcher, she is a curious person with a passion for studying the world around her. She wants to learn, to study, to educate, but instead this goal is considered "frivolous" and "unimportant" by her father. It is stamped as a distraction, and blamed as the reason Zelda has yet to awaken her Sealing powers, despite the fact her passion and determination for research was fueled by her shortcomings as The Princess with the Blood of the Goddess. It was her way of contributing to the coalition's preparations against The Calamity, even without her powers.
Additionally both Elsa and Zelda have a mask for who they believe they should be: a regal, elegant, level-headed royal who is mature and Above Silly Games when in reality, they are vivacious young women who would have loved to engage in said Silly Games, and have more love to give than what they were allowed.
Grand Destinies
Another similarity that is shared between Elsa and Zelda are the grand destinies that awaited them, and were expected to fulfill. There are slight divergences in both, but the broad strokes remain the same:
Both royals possess a unique and unstoppable power that drives the narratives of both stories forward
They are both fated to be the Key in preventing a Great Calamity (Zelda was destined to seal away Calamity Ganon, a force of hatred and malice that arose every 10,000 years with her Sealing Powers, and Elsa was destined to become the Bridge between the Spirits and the Humans in the Enchanted Forest as the Fifth Spirit, which allowed her to prevent Arendelle's destruction)
Both their powers are mysterious and unknowable, and its growth and behavior eludes the both of them
Their respective powers brought them great distress (for completely opposite reasons, mind, but we'll get to that) and is a constant source of struggle in their stories.
Loss
Both queens lost their parents at a young age. The absence of their parents caused a deep trauma that affected their ability to regulate or control their powers in some way. Zelda losing her mother so young meant she never got the chance to learn to use her powers. This lack of guidance would later indirectly result in her losing her father due to her not being able to awaken her powers in time.
For Elsa, it is much the same. The lack of guidance in her life only further widened the ridge not only between herself and her sister, but also the wider community. It prevented her from being able to form connections as well as she could have.
Adored
Despite her Shortcomings, Failures, and Insecurities, both Zelda and Elsa are always surrounded by love and people who adore them. These people see them for them, who they are as people as opposed to their powers, their position, and their destinies. These people see how hard she works and appreciate her dedication, and they are always ready to offer comfort and reassurance to assuage their Negative Thoughts. They may not always remember or be aware of this, but they are always the apple of many’s eyes.
Shared Personality Traits
A quick list of similar key personality traits between Zelda and Elsa that make Elsa a great stand-in for Zelda because there is Just So Much
Withdrawn, hesitant, unsure of herself (AT FIRST)
TERRIFIED of the destiny that awaited them (Fulfilling a prophecy, ruling a kingdom and potentially destroying it)
Isolated and made to keep to herself
Studious, intelligent, diligent
Resourceful and determined
So full of fear, yet fearless nonetheless
Awe-inspiring leaders
Well-mannered and conducts herself well (except where Certain Blond Men are involved)
Slow to warm up to people, especially when it comes to Certain Blond Men That Follow Them Around Everywhere
Has a hard time talking about or expressing their feelings until it's All Just Too Much and Entirely Too Late
But deep down are very warm and kind
Patient and understanding, usually. But Certain Blond Men tend to test their limits. (at least, at first)
Differences
Of course, there are also differences that may potentially be Game Breaking, so let's discuss a few of them and how they could be accommodated
The Fear of their Power
Where Elsa feared her power due to its strength and her inability to pacify or control it, Zelda's fear comes from the fact she may not even have the powers she was supposed to have, compounded by the fact that the Kingdom's survival entirely hinges on Zelda mastering her powers and using it.
Where Elsa fears using her powers, Zelda fears not being able to use hers in time. Though the fear itself is a common thread, the cause is very much opposite and paramount to the driving force between their respective stories.
Failure
A big component of Zelda's story that Elsa lacks in hers. When Elsa fails or makes a mistake, she is able to undo all the damage she caused with minimal consequences to herself and the wider environment (resurrects Anna, thaws the fjord, discovers the secrets of her family's past, reconnects the spirits to humans, saves Arendelle from a tidal wave).
When Zelda fails, the consequences are permanent and lasting. Failing to awaken her powers in time—despite spending hours for multiple days on end praying before the Goddess statues for guidance in nothing but ceremonial robes, and occasionally in freezing cold waters until she collapsed—she was unable to stop the destruction of her kingdom, the deaths of her friends and family (who went to battle for her, on her behalf), and even (for a time) the person she loved, who refused to leave her side until the bitter end. Zelda would never see her friends and father again, her champion had lost a majority of his memories (save for the ones he had of her) and may never be the person she once knew, and the Kingdom of Hyrule as it was will never return. The damage has been done, and she can only pick up the pieces of What Remained and start anew.
This fear and burden of failure is a pervasive theme in Zelda's story. She is perceived as a failure by her own father, and even the wider kingdom court due to her inability to awaken and wield the power that had been passed down from generation to generation. This is an aspect lacking in Elsa's story, who was the first in her name to wield ANY sort of magical ability.
Resentment
Due to her inability to awaken her powers, Zelda developed a resentment towards Link, who had already found and been chosen by the Master Sword and stepped into his Destiny as The Hero Who Wields The Sword That Seals The Darkness. She saw his accomplishments, his skill and readiness as a slight against her own shortcomings, and the presence of the legendary sword on his back served as a constant reminder of her failures. She projected her insecurities onto him, believing that he too thought she was a failure, that he looked down on her or was disappointed in Who She Was despite her supposedly being the Princess With The Blood Of The Goddess even though he adored her from the start, since the first time they met, and it only furthered their divide. At least, In The Beginning.
unfortunately, we live in a reality where Jack and Elsa have never met in any official media, and so, we cannot say if Elsa and Jack would absolutely react in a similar way to each other under the same circumstances, but this gives us plenty of room to work with!
Reconciliation
As this is a BOTW AU for Jelsa first and foremost, we will be applying aspects of Zelda's story into Elsa's to blend her better in the world, and if you've read my collaborative Jelsa project with Kris (more than you know) you may see that some of these aspects have already been implemented and work very well to create a compelling story.
Elsa, instead of struggling with Too Much Power she Fears and Cannot Control, is unable to summon them from inside of her, despite the Kingdom's safety entirely hinging on her mastery of it. This fills her with great distress and self-loathing, causing her to doubt herself and her own self-worth in relation to her powers (or lack thereof) in a similar way to her original portrayal, just for differing reasons, and she finds herself projecting these feelings onto Jack due to the pressure and stress of it all.
However, they do reconcile. She learns the error of her ways, apologizes for her mistake, and they start over with a clean slate. Finally, they begin to develop a bond, growing closer than they thought they would.
And of course, it wouldn't be BOTW without devastation and great loss, and so Elsa (like Zelda did IC), was unable to save her kingdom from The Great Calamity, losing everyone she cared about in the process. Including her beloved sister Anna.
And on the verge of losing Jack too, her desire to protect him—her Love—finally awakens the dormant power inside of her. To save his life, she places him in the Shrine of Resurrection while she goes to face the calamity alone… and would go on to contain it for the next 100 years.
However, she continues to hold on to hope that The Chosen Hero, her Appointed Knight, will Rise again one day, and finish what they started.
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mars-and-the-theoi · 1 year ago
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Low energy Devotional Acts for when you don’t have a lot of energy (or time, or money, etc.)
💀Thanatos💀
- listen to a devotional playlist for Him
- listens to ‘dark ambient’ soundscapes
- learn about butterflies
- if able, visit a cemetery
- learn about the work that death doulas, hospice workers, funeral directors, morticians, cemetery caretakers, and grief counselors do
- if able tend to the grave of a loved one (tidy it up, bring new flowers/decorations, etc.)
- talk to deceased loved ones (doesn’t have to be anything fancy- I talk to my dead dog all the time I say good morning to him and when we leave I tell him we’ll be back etc. whatever you wanna tell them you tell them!)
- learn the stages of grief and how complex grief is
- if interested and able (I know this can be touchy) learn about the process of dying and what happens to the body after death
- learn about what you can have done to your body after death- there’s lots of interesting options out there! Burial at sea is still very much a thing that can be done, I didn’t know that until I got curious and looked this stuff up!
- if able and willing talk to your loved ones about what your wishes are for when you die- what do you want to happen to your body, what do you want your funeral to be like, etc. (I include this because I used to work in assisted living and nothing is worse than your family just not knowing what your wishes are for when you die, I’ve heard too many horror stories)
- learn about death magic and spirit work
- learn about the Victorian era spirituality craze (like the uptick in things like seances and all that, it’s all very interesting)
- learn about the many ways to communicate with the dead
- destigmatize death- death has become a very hush-hush subject which doesn’t really do us any favors in my opinion so don’t be afraid to talk about it, talk about your wishes, etc.
- learn about funerary practices throughout history and around the world
- learn about the meaning of death throughout history and around the world
- listen to songs about death
- read poems, books, plays about death- there’s a lot of them and they’re quite interesting
- watch movies/shows about death (my personal favorite is the seventh seal)
- if able and willing reflect on your own thoughts and feelings on death (can be death in general, about your own mortality, etc.)
- look up cemetery symbols and symbolism! And whenever able do a cemetery scavenger hunt
- wear black
- learn about how to help someone who is grieving
- listen to goth music
- be kind to spirits
- learn about haunted locations
- read ghost stories (idk if this counts but my personal favorite is The Legend of Sleepy Hollow)
💤Hypnos💤
- listen to a devotional playlist for Him
- listen to calming soundscapes
- learn about symbolism in dreams
- learn about the stages of sleep
- if able establish and practice good sleep hygiene
- learn about good sleep hygiene
- if unable (or you have a hard time sleeping) look up calming and quiet activities you can do instead
- listen to calming music
- if able make your bedroom into a cozy safe space
- learn about herbs and plants with calming and/or sleep inducing properties
- if able donate some bedding you don’t use anymore (even animal shelters will take some! Bedding is always in high demand in all sorts of places so if you’re needing to unload some this is the chance to do it!)
- learn about our sleep cycles and the circadian rhythm
- if you have young family members (kids, little siblings) tuck them in and/or read them a bedtime story
- if able slow down and rest
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nadas-dirthalen · 1 month ago
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I Saw Solas's Origin in an Achievement Icon and It Opened My Eyes on 15 Years of Lore
— PART THREE: if you haven't read previous parts, do it now! —
[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ]
Welcome, friends and travelers! I wanted to get some thoughts recorded before Veilguard's release so I could see if I am right about an absolute BOATLOAD of theories I have.
In short: I saw the achievement list when it was released. I have seen the backstory hints for Solas included in said list. AND MY MIND WAS BLOWN.
You have been warned: THIS COLLECTION OF THEORIES INCLUDES SPOILERS FOR EVERY DRAGON AGE GAME AND ALL PROMOTIONAL MATERIAL UP TO AND INCLUDING OCTOBER 18, 2024.
Come sit down with me. Make a nice cup of tea (and hide it from Solas). We've got a lot of unpacking to do.
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(this photo isn't the spoiler, I just like it.)
Today's Discussion:
So far, we've covered a few things. We know Solas was "born" from (or manifested from) a branch of raw lyrium while he was still connected to a Titan. We know there were hints toward this from across all three previous games, plus a lot of external media. We know his "birth" was initiated/instigated by Mythal.
We also know that there are quite a lot of hints about memory and forgetting across what we've covered so far, from Cole's dialogue to old elvhen lullabies.
But from here, we must ask ourselves: What ARE the Forgotten Ones? And if Solas really IS Titan-born, what does that say about the rest of everything we know about the world of Thedas and its magic?
Why the Titans are the Forgotten Ones
Fen'Harel Walked Between Both Clans of Gods
The Abyss and the Fade
Lyrium: Titans' Blood, Emerald Waters of the Fade
What IS a Spirit, Then?
Solas's Magic: What Was He Born With?
Solas and Petrification
Solas and "Blood" Magic // The Red Lyrium Idol
What Did Solas Absorb at the End of DA:I?
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Why the Titans are the Forgotten Ones
Okay. This, I admit, could have been its own post. There is a LOT to cover with just this topic. I was in the midst of outlining such a post when one of my favourite Dragon Age theorycrafters (girltriesgames) came out with this video, which summarizes every point I'd gave gone into at length. Go watch it, if you want the full deep-dive!
For now, I will summarize some of the video's points:
There were two clans of gods, according to Merrill. The first was the Evanuris, and the Forgotten Gods were the second.
Fen'Harel walked among both clans without fear, and both believed he was one of them.
The Forgotten Ones have been "sealed" in the Abyss, which we know is the deep underground from the Descent DLC and other sources such as the Anvil of the Void.
The Forgotten Ones are cited by Merrill and the World of Thedas books as being at war with the Evanuris, namely Mythal and Elgar'nan being at war with four Forgotten Ones; in the Trespasser DLC, it mentions that the Titans were at war with the Evanuris, and slain by Mythal and Elgar'nan.
The Hissing Wastes features codices from ancient dwarves who fled to the surface to escape a war that was ultimately... forgotten, featuring dragons being used as weapons that slaughtered their kin. Obviously an above-ground enemy!
There are countless mentions of the word "Forgotten" around the Titans and dwarves. The Titans have been forgotten. They do not exist in the Memories of Orzammar. The sleeping Titans have forgotten how to wake up.
Cole makes many mentions of forgotten songs in relation to the sleeping Titans and also to the dwarves. Curiously, he even ties these concepts to the Templars, who employ the same magic (according to Cole).
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Fen'Harel Walked Between Both Clans of Gods
Once I knew that Solas is made from lyrium and that the Titans are the Forgotten Ones, everything clicked into place for me. The legends say that Fen'Harel walked between both "clans" of gods because each one believed him to be one of their own. That sentence made less sense to me before, because I wondered: how does an elf fool an entire other clan of gods into believing he belongs to them?
Understanding that the Titans are the Forgotten Ones, famously the clan of gods that the Evanuris (namely Mythal and Elgar'nan) warred with... well, it makes sense now, doesn't it? Solas was able to walk between both clans of gods because he DOES have roots in both. Solas is crafted FROM a Titan. Solas BECAME an Evanuris. The Titan would recognize him as one of its own; the Evanuris accept him as one of their own.
This is backed up even further by a piece of Solas's dialogue in The Threat Remains.
"I have journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I’ve watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past of ancient wars both famous and forgotten."
The Titans' existence was struck from Orzammar's Memories. Cole makes endless mentions of forgotten songs, old songs. Beings that are sleeping and don't remember how to wake up. Beings that have forgotten even themselves. Solas refers to dwarves as the severed arm of a once mighty hero.
"Wars both famous and forgotten," therefore, might refer to a war that was famous among the ancient elvhen, but forgotten by the rest of the world. One side takes pride in the mining of lyrium from slain titans. The other is doomed never to know what was lost.
But the question remains: When Solas created the Veil to imprison the Evanuris, what exactly happened to the Titans?
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The Abyss and the Fade
To truly understand what happened to the Titans, we must first understand what, exactly, the Veil was making a divide between. We know much of what happened to the Fade: that Solas says it was once a state of nature like the wind, flowing through everything. That now it is mutable and unpredictable, with little in the way of permanence in anything. That it takes the shape of the thoughts and memories of those within it. That magic functions unpredictably within it.
But what about what that meant for the Titans? What happened to them with this split? And, more importantly, what was the Fade in relation to them?
Let's start with what we know about the Titans' domain. Frequently called the Abyss or the Void, the realm of the Titans is below the surface. Yet, in much elvhen literature found in Trespasser, their domain is referred to as the Earth.
I believe, based on the context of those codices, that the Earth and the Abyss are not the same. The Abyss refers to the caverns in the deep underground. The Earth, specifically, is the Titans who live within the Abyss. Earth, in the ancient elvhen, pre-Veil context, may refer to the Titans' bodies—lyrium—while "Pillars of the Earth" refers to the Titans as sentient beings. The Song to Elgar'nan talks about wanting victory over the Earth, capital 'E.'
Though the Chant of Light describes the Void as more a state of being, the ancient elvhen describe it as Andruil's old hunting grounds.
One day Andruil grew tired of hunting mortal men and beasts. She began stalking the Forgotten Ones, wicked things that thrive in the abyss. Yet even a god should not linger there, and each time she entered the Void, Andruil suffered longer and longer periods of madness after returning. Andruil put on armor made of the Void, and all forgot her true face. She made weapons of darkness, and plague ate her lands. She howled things meant to be forgotten, and the other gods became fearful Andruil would hunt them in turn.
The time of Andruil using the Void as her hunting grounds predates the Veil. Overall, we already know much of what this codex implies about the Void: that it is dark, underground, and that there is reason we know of that would send Andruil back with madness (the abundance of raw lyrium and the fact that the Evanuris are mages, plus Andruil's lyrium armor).
What I want to focus on is that the Forgotten Ones were thriving in the Abyss before the Veil went up. They were alive and, ostensibly, able to fight back. They had access to their will and to their consciousness.
That consciousness seems to have disappeared with the creation of the Veil. Let me rephrase.
The Titans lost access to their consciousness with the creation of the Veil. At the same time. And what did the Veil do? What is the SOLE thing it did?
Separated the Fade from the waking world.
A collection of facts, when taken together, lead me to my conclusion about the relationship between the Abyss, the Fade, and the Titans.
The Forgotten Ones (Titans) live in the Abyss
They were conscious and "thriving" before the Veil went up
Cole remarks that they have "forgotten" how to wake up in the time since
No one has memory of the Titans, not even the dwarves
Lyrium is the blood of the Titans
and lyrium grows in the Fade.
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Lyrium: Titans' Blood, and the Emerald Waters of the Fade
I think a lot of us (me included) have been thinking about the Fade all wrong. I think a lot of people consider the Fade to be this Other Thing™ that was once a part of the world, and is now separate. Now, I believe differently. I think that the Fade and the Titans were once two pieces of one whole, and creating the Veil effectively sundered all Titans' consciousness from their bodies.
In short: I think the Fade is the Titans' missing consciousness.
That's why I think it is very important not just that Lyrium exists in the Fade, but that it grows there. It implies that the Fade is still alive, just like the Titans are still alive, but asleep.
When Solas says, "I seek... regeneration" in Vows & Vengeance, I think this is what he means: reconnecting these two sundered pieces.
We've always thought as the Fade as the realm of spirits. Those characters who contemplate the Veil being torn down immediately think about how many spirits and demons that might unleash upon Thedas.
But I must ask: If the Fade is the consciousness of sundered Titans, where did the first spirits come from, before the creation of the Veil? What relation could Titans have with spirits?
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What IS a Spirit, Then?
I'm sure that I am not alone when I say that my original guess for Solas's origin story is that he was a spirit that took mortal, corporeal shape. We've all heard Cole say, "He did not want a body, but she asked him to come." We all know that the Dread Wolf's six eyes greatly resemble a Pride demon, and we have seen that Solas' Manifestation achievement icon features those same six eyes.
If you're like me, you might've seen that and wondered how exactly this is all related. How can Solas be a spirit of Wisdom turned to Pride if he came from a Titan?
I'm here to tell you: I think those are the same thing.
And the Chant of Light agrees with me.
Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you. In my arms lies Eternity. —Andraste 14:11
Many believe that the well of sorrows and the waters of the Fade must have elemental associations with, well... water. But I'd like to put forth a different interpretation.
Lyrium exists in liquid form, once refined. The Bastion of the Pure in the Descent DLC has a literal underground sea. We know that lyrium is the Titans' blood, growing both in the Abyss and the Fade. We also know that the Fade, domain of spirits, is likely the Titans' sundered consciousness.
The "well of all souls," then, is the same as the "emerald waters." Both of them refer not to water, not to oceans, but to lyrium.
I think every spirit on Thedas, not just the dwarves, came from the Titans originally.
To test the validity of my idea, I then asked myself: what do we know of spirits and their nature?
We know that spirits all boil down to one singular quality: Wisdom, Compassion, Purpose, Love, Justice, etc etc etc.
We know that those qualities can change back and forth from "virtuous" to "demonic" depending on the spirit's own feelings and reactions to the world. The trauma of crossing the Veil or being bound can force Wisdom to become Pride (Solas's personal quest) or Compassion to Rage (Down Among the Dead Men from Tevinter Nights).
Not all spirits are named for "virtues" or "sins." For instance, there are Hunger demons, and hunger is not a sin.
Spirits can be killed outright. When that happens, they may reform, but they are never quite the same when they coalesce again. There are also "ancient spirits" mentioned throughout the franchise, which tells me that not all spirits are the same age. They were not all created at the same time.
Many spirits are mere wisps, without one of those one-word qualities. They must gain power before they take such a shape.
To me, that sounds a lot like how thoughts work.
Our singular thoughts could also be boiled down to singular qualities, if framed in a certain way. For instance, my current craving for food is very much a Hunger thought. My constant joy in reading World of Thedas stems from Curiosity. Terrible traffic conditions inspire fleeting Rage, which changes when I remember my Compassion for other drivers who might be erratic because they're going through an emergency or something traumatic.
People don't remember every single thought they have. The ones that stick with us over time? They remain with us because they are powerful. Stronger memories stick around longer; the rest fade away or become shapeless until we try really hard to remember them again.
But when we do remember things we have forgotten? We never remember them exactly the same, do we? If I remember I thought I had as a child, I have to remember it with the context of my current 30-year-old self. I will never experience the thought exactly as my 5-year-old self did.
As long as I have access to my own consciousness, I will constantly produce new thoughts and memories.
Therefore?
Specifically, I think that all spirits on Thedas are the thoughts of Titans, once either held in lyrium or free to drift through the Fade before the Veil existed. Those spirits may then manifest into a corporeal shape, like Cole does, if they have enough power.
And Solas? Solas is one such thought-spirit, who used to be held in lyrium, who Mythal convinced (or coerced) to take shape.
Which explains a great deal about every type of magic we see him use.
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Solas's Magic: What Was He Born With?
Oh, Solas, you beautiful enigma. For so long, we thought of you as an ordinary mage. Then, with the big Fen'Harel reveal and the way you began petrifying people in Trespasser, we thought you were something else.
Mages draw their power from the Fade. It looks like the dwarven magic we're seeing (from Harding, from Valta, from Sandal) draws its power from the Stone, in addition to manipulating it. So what gives? How is Solas able to pull from both schools of magic? Is he a mage? Is he kin with the dwarves?
Now, with all the knowledge we've gained through one singular achievement icon jpeg, I understand: you are both, and you are neither.
We must remember that all ancient elvhen are born in a pre-Veil era. With the knowledge we have, that means an era when the Titans were not sundered from their thoughts, and all magic in the world was one thing. If all spirits are the thoughts of Titans made manifest (either as living concepts or as corporeal beings) and the Fade is just one part of Titans' whole existence, then a world without the Veil is a world where we don't need to think of those magics as two separate things.
Rather, they are both magic, but opposing schools of the same magic. When we think of the four elements here in OUR world, we think of earth and air as opposites—but in a lot of media, magic users have access to both. Often, they are weak to each other, one cancelling out the other.
We see this laid out more clearly in this codex from the Vir Dirthara.
"The unchanging world is delicate: spells of power invite disaster and annihilation. The unchanging world is stubborn: the pull of the earth fiercely resists making fire run like water or stone rise like mist. The unchanging world rings with its own harmony. Listen with fearless hearts, and great works will unfold."
This codex is actively encouraging the magic users of ancient elvhen (AKA, all people from that time) to listen with fearless hearts to the "unchanging world" to exert will over the "pull of the earth." They're not saying to avoid the Titans, or to dominate them with an abundance of their own (Fade) magic. By tapping into the Titans' rhythm, even the magic of the Fade is embellished. Made stronger.
To be alive in that time is to be able to wield both magics interchangeably—but just like Aang in Avatar: the Last Airbender, the pull of the earth is a notoriously difficult thing for "air" (Fade) magic-users to grasp, and vice versa.
(A tiny aside: I believe these discoveries about spirits and magic teach us the distinction between elven and elvhen. The latter translates to "spirit-soul," loosely—the spirits that came out of the Titans. I believe elven refers to the corporeal descendants of those elvhen that sexually reproduced.)
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Solas and Petrification
Many of us speculated for a long, long time that Solas's ability to petrify people—an ability associated with Sandal and Harding—was something he took from a dwarven or Titan-aligned source. People speculated that Urthemiel, the archdemon, must be somehow connected to the magic of the Stone.
I have a different theory: Solas has always had this capability, but the power he absorbed from Mythal is what has allowed him to once again perform the magic of the Stone from whence he came.
Maybe utilizing both magics to such a powerful degree (remember his Mind Blast from Trespasser?) requires that a mage be more powerful than most, carrying two "sects" of magic within them and using both in such a great and terrible capacity (like how the Avatar is more powerful than other benders, able to carry multiple elements because of bonding with the spirit of Raava, to continue with my previous example).
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Solas and "Blood" Magic // The Red Lyrium Idol
I'll preface this by saying: no, I have no idea why Solas has changed his tune about blood magic in DA:tV. I hope to find out in five days!
I do want to suggest that, for Solas, blood magic might mean something different than it does for everyone else. Solas's blood, while he has taken a corporeal shape almost identical to any other elven person, may not be the same chemical make as the blood of mortals. That might explain why he has not experimented with it much during the time of Inquisition, and might explain why he does not want to use his own blood in DA:tV.
Instead, his blood might be closer to lyrium than we expected. And the red lyrium idol might be HIS idol.
Some of you might remember that way back in part 1, I noted that a hint for Solas's origin from previous games and external media is that, in Tevinter Nights, the Dread Wolf refers to the red lyrium idol as "my idol" before slaying the Mortalitasi trying to perform a blood magic ritual with it. It confused me, for a long time, why the Dread Wolf (the big wolf form, not necessarily one with Solas) would refer to the idol as "my idol" before actually retrieving it to keep. The explanation seems simple: it was his first.
This makes me wonder, given everything we know, if the idol first belonged to the Dread Wolf because it is made from the Dread Wolf's blood. Since the Dread Wolf is a piece of a Titan, that would make its blood likely at least related to lyrium, right?
Many have also speculated that Solas's ritual dagger, which gets passed on to Rook, is made from a purified/reforged red lyrium idol. Given the blood connection between Rook and Solas, it makes sense to me that if the dagger is indeed made from the blood of the Dread Wolf (and/or Solas), that is why Rook has access to its abilities.
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What Did Solas Absorb at the End of DA:I?
I cannot for the life of me find a well-cropped image, but this post on Reddit talks about a designer note from the post-credits scene of DA:I between Solas and Flemeth. Namely that Solas does not take Mythal's soul when he absorbs power from her. Before he absorbs that power, Mythal passes her soul on to Morrigan.
While David Gaider had previously advised fans to not necessarily take this as canon, it seems to be proving true in Morrigan's design change, featuring Flemeth's crown.
That means there are two things Solas may have still absorbed from Mythal, since her soul was already "spoken for."
Raw power
The soul of Urthemiel, the archdragon slain in Origins. This is true in every world state with Kieran, but I would wager that Urthemiel's soul belongs with Mythal in every world state, since Flemeth said she had an "appointment to keep" in the prologue of DA2, which is why she did not travel with Hawke. My guess is she went to Denerim, poking at the remains of the slain archdemon until, 10 years later in Inquisition, she was in possession of Urthemiel's soul no matter what.
We know, however, that archdemons are sundered pieces of the Evanuris. We've been able to suspect this since Inquisition, where we see Corypheus's archdemon is in possession of a piece of his soul and is therefore the secret to his immortality.
I don't think either of this gave Solas access to any new spells. Rather, I think either one (or both!) might have granted him the power necessary to access spells he already knows from both Fade magic and Stone magic.
However, I'd like to touch on just one thing before this post concludes.
I believe that Urthemiel is June's archdemon. The Chant of Light references an Architect of Beauty, just as it references Corypheus, the Conductor of Silence. These are high priests of the so-called "Old Gods," which were revealed as archdemons when Dumat appeared during the First Blight. Corypheus was the high priest of Dumat, the old god of Silence.
I believe the word Architect being used as the title for the high priest of Urthemiel is indicative of the Evanuris that Urthemiel belongs to. There is one Evanuris known for craftsmanship: June, who we know nothing about.
The reason I mention this is that, if nothing else, June's abilities may have allowed Solas to "purify" and shape the red lyrium idol into his ritual dagger that we see in Veilguard.
In conclusion: I believe Solas has always had access to the Stone, but it would certainly be interesting to see if each Evanuris has their own suite of magical abilities, potentially due to the Titan from which some of them originated (more on THAT in a later post, stay tuned!).
If you read this far, THANK YOU, as always! The collective hype of everyone reading and sharing these is making me all the more excited for Veilguard.
Keep an eye out for the next instalment in this series: What the Chant of Light teaches us about Solas, Mythal, and the Evanuris at large.
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franzkafkagf · 7 months ago
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okay so i want to hear about your take on aegon i know you like him and all (so do i no matter how much i wish not to) but whyy
yess thanks for asking, I love being insane about him<3
I think Aegon is such a wildly tragic character– many asoiaf characters are but I'm so drawn specifically to him; he didn't want power or responsibility or the crown. It all was bestowed upon him against his will, and he shouldn't; putting on the crown is his definitive death sentence. The coronation scene has got to be one of my favorites in the season– he is quite literally walking up to be butchered like a sacrificial lamb, there are tears streaking his cheeks in the scene! I love the tragedy of it, the way it couldn't have been avoided anyways; his fate was sealed from the very start! He was quite literally dead from the very beginning.
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I'm going off a mix from the book and the show but I actually love what they did with the character in the show? The book version does have some hard-hitting moments from him that are missing ("What sort of brother steals his sister's birthright?") but there wasn't that much there in terms of characterization and relationships. And wow, did they deliver on that in the show; I'm gonna give whoever came up with his mommy issues a forehead kiss.
Because YES! He and Alicent are reflections of one another– Alicent suffered under the heavy boot of Otto, turned into the perfect daughter, turned into the perfect queen for him. She recognizes that this was wrong and abusive of him, then she turns around and does the same thing to Aegon– the poison DOES drip through, the wheel is NOT broken!! It's BRILLIANT.
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@atopvisenyashill put a GREAT tag under one of my posts–
#he looks like her and he’s weak like her so why can’t he get strong like her.
While Alicent persevered, Aegon crumbled under the pressure. He is miserable when we meet him– and he should be! He is unfit for the role of king, but it is his destiny nonetheless, everybody tells him so. It destroys him.
It's so sad too and I cannot help but to feel bad for him. No one knows where he is in ep 9, I don't think he has anyone to confide in; it must be lonely. Everybody seems to have written him off already– he is a drunk and a failure at being heir, being a son, being a father. He tries to prove them wrong later, and does in some aspects.
His loneliness plays into another aspect of him that I really love; his desperation to be loved. He will never be enough for anybody, he probably knows it deep down.
"[Aegon is] desperate to be loved but destined to be hated." – Tom Glynn-Carney
Obviously there is the carriage scene with Alicent that shows this. But I also really love the moment in his coronation, where he basks in the people's affection and cheers. He is poised to bleed out in front of the throne, he was crying and fighting for his life not to take the crown just minutes before. But now he's here and they love him and he can't help but love that.
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He takes the crown to protect his family (the show does hint at that with Alicent telling him as much in ep. 6– in the book it's much more explicit with Criston pressuring him on the day of the coronation itself) and then his son DIES because of it! And he drinks and rages and drinks some more; he must've blamed himself. He goes to battle, flies too high (figuratively), and he FALLS; he burns and falls to the ground. He isn't made to be king. He knows. He does it anyways.
"You have already written yourself into legend, you survived dragonfire" – Larys Strong in season 2 (probably)
He survives, he is gone for over a year, unable to do anything but he SURVIVES. He escapes the capital, takes Dragonstone, he falls AGAIN, he loses most of his family; but he still goes on. Fueled by what? Maybe anger, or bitterness or just pure lust for revenge. It doesn't matter. He must've realized somewhere on the way that this was always meant to go this way, ever since he put the conqueror's crown on. It doesn't matter.
And then he dies and it's not grand or spectacular or anything like that. He drinks poisoned wine, nobody even sees him die, they only find him after. It's so uniquely lonely.
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