#there’s no universal x experience for any value of x

[hag-lad]

It’s just so obvious to me that terfs’ anger and aggression towards trans people is completely misplaced. Trans people are natural allies to feminists of all genders; they aren’t a threat to women’s liberation! The freedom to explore, experiment with, and change genders is inherently good and inherently destructive to the patriarchy. Like. This should be obvious!

That being said, I do hate to see individual trans people exhibiting shitty/misogynistic behavior toward cis women, but like… I hate that no matter who does it?? And trans people aren’t particularly predisposed for it. If anything, they’re predisposed for the opposite! There are assholes in every group, but let’s not pretend they are representative of the whole group. That is so childish and absurd.

I’d feel safer around any random trans woman than I ever would around a terf, and that’s a FACT. I’m a cis woman, but I don’t feel represented by, protected by, or indebted to terfs at all. I feel actively alienated by them, I feel like 90% of my loved ones are despised by them, and I share virtually zero political goals with them.

[cherry-holmes]

Happy birthday, Javi | Javier Peña x F!reader❤️‍🔥

‘Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña'

Chapter 8

MASTERLIST

Summary: It’s Javi’s birthday and you want to gift him something he has been wishing for a while: you.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Previous chapter

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female reader

Word count: +4k

Warnings: Established relationship. SMUT. Soft porn with a lot of plot😅 – Loss of virginity. P in V sex. Protected sex. Soft sex. Nipple play, oral sex (fem received), fingering. A brief mention of breeding kink. Praise kink.

A/N: It’s me, hi! I’m gonna be honest, I am so nervous for this! This is my first English work ever! And I’m not an English native speaker, but I am a student translator so I hope there’s no so much problem🥲 I’m sorry if you find some errors, please let me know if there’s any and I’ll fix it asap!

A/N 2: IMPORTANT BEFORE READE! As you know, this was the first work I published and, to be honest, at the time I didn't plan to turn it into a whole series. However, upon seeing the good response to this first writing, I was inspired to create an entire universe between our Reader and Javi. Therefore, this part now contains INCONSISTENCIES and INACCURACIES regarding the current timeline of the story. I decided not to modify it so as not to affect those who have already read it, but I hope that if you are readers of the original series, you can adapt it and understand the space-time in which our couple finds themselves.

I hope you like it!❤️✨

•

Javier Peña wasn't a selfish man, especially when it came to matters of sex. He believed that women had the same rights as men to explore themselves and have numerous experiences with their sexuality. There's nothing quite like a woman who knows exactly what she wants and how she wants it.

But there was something about the fact that the only woman he had truly fallen in love with, his girlfriend, was still a virgin. It turned him on immensely. The mere thought of your innocence and the opportunity he had to make you feel truly good for the first time made him feel incredibly lucky. And also it made his cock throb.

The thought of you every night, and the things he could teach you in his bed, consumed him. His only desired was to lead you astray, turning you into a temptress. However, he never rushed you into anything you didn't want.

Of course, he felt disappointed the first time you both came so close to consummating your love on his couch, after a session of tender kisses here and there. He was already aroused, and he sensed that you were ready too. However, when you expressed uncertainty, he immediately stopped. He held you and reassured you that it was okay. He genuinely meant it, even though he had to take a cold shower by himself to cool off.

You had been with him for almost five months now, which really made you reflect on how quickly time flies. What's more, it was hard for you to believe that Javier had gone all those weeks without sex. He had a reputation, and you were well aware of it. He used to go from woman to woman; some of them you even knew from work, and others were his informants from the streets of Bogotá.

Initially, you were intimidated by his reputation as a heartthrob, a man afraid of commitment, as you had heard from office gossip. You didn't want to be just another one-night stand for him. You were the boyfriend-girlfriend kind of person. The dates, flowers and late night dancing kind of woman, someone who valued commitment, loyalty, and meaningful relationships. Plus, he was older than you, and you thought the age gap could be a problem when it came to establishing priorities in life. He was in his late 30s, and yet he didn't show any signs of wanting to settle down. It's not like you were desperate to get married; you were barely 26. But you needed to know if what you had could potentially lead to something more meaningful someday. You had a big crush on him and you wanted to make it last.

That's why you made him chase you for three months, wanting to see if he was trustworthy and if you were truly worth it to him. And then, after you said yes, he spent another fifteen weeks waiting for you, because he had fallen deeply in love with you. Your smile or even just a glance from you made his heart race every time. He felt like he didn't deserve the world because of all the sins he had committed, yet there was a piece of heaven in the shape of you right in front of him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was the middle of June, to be more specific, Javi's birthday. You had spent the entire week asking him about any plans he might have for his special day, but he had insisted that he didn't want anything specific, just to spend the day with you. But you wanted him to have a great day to show him how much he was loved and important for you. And one of the things you planned was something he had been waiting patiently for quite a long time: you.

You were ready for him now. You had been dreaming about him all over you, his hands on your body, and the things he would let you do to him, and vice versa.

You two didn't live together yet, but you used to spend most days and some nights at his apartment, just like that morning when you woke up earlier than usual. He was still sleeping by your side, his bare chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath. He looked younger in that moment, with his messy hair, his face at rest, and his always furrowed brow now relaxed. He looked so innocent.

You didn't know it, but before you, he barely slept. He used to have sex with women but always slept alone, or at least, tried to. He spent endless cold nights tossing and turning in his bed, attempting to forget all the blood and violence he had witnessed during the day. But then there he was sleeping like a child, knowing you were right there and you would never left.

You got out of bed as quietly as possible to avoid waking him up. You retrieved the small shopping bag you had hidden in the closet and tiptoed to the bathroom. You had bought lingerie—a beautiful red lace babydoll that resembled a princess gown but with much less fabric, of course. The color matched your freshly painted nails, and your hair appeared even brighter with that color palette. You completed your look by applying a touch of color to your cheeks, lip gloss, and his favorite perfume of yours.

As you gazed at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, your cheeks flushed at the sight of yourself in that lingerie. You looked beautiful, and you had never felt more sexy. You returned to the bed where he was still in the arms of Morpheus. You lay down next to him, admiring his handsome features, and then placed a gentle peck on his cheek, hoping it would wake him up. But it didn't. So, you decided to gently turn his face toward you, using a finger on his chin to guide his lips to yours. It worked like a charm. He responded to your soft touch, kissing you back passionately. He purred with satisfaction and pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your waist. Then, his groggy eyes widened as they roamed over your delicate figure. Confusion flickered across his face for just a fraction of a second before he realized. You couldn't help but notice the way his eyes darkened, and he swallowed hard at the sight.

"You like it?" Your voice was a whisper, and in that very moment, he was the only one in the world who could hear your words. "Feliz cumpleaños."

He looked up at you, grinning with eyes full of desire, and appeared so alluring, almost like the devil himself. He hadn't said a word yet, and you were apprehensive about what his voice would do to you when he used it. With just the way he looked at you, he had you wrapped around his finger. You began to feel aroused, and now you knew that there was no force in the world that could stop you from doing what you were intended to do. Your lips met his once more, and your hands found their way to his broad chest, feeling his smooth, tanned skin melting beneath your fingertips.

He broke the kiss again, this time to take your hand and guide you out of the bed. He sat down at the corner of the mattress, placing you standing between his legs. You couldn't help but notice the bulge forming in his sleeping pants, causing you to blush.

"C'mere, baby, I need to see you," he whispered. His hands roamed all over your body, exploring every ribbon and every spaghetti strap, caressing the parts where the lace were too transparent. "You look gorgeous," he praised and you felt the heat travel from your cheeks to your core.

You felt a little ashamed tho, not used to being so exposed to anyone before. On the other hand, Javi was mesmerized by how you looked, every one of your curves, and how the babydoll suited you so well. He couldn't believe that it was happening; he was over the moon. But he needed you to know something.

"Are you sure, amor?" he asked, finding your eyes. He did his best to be serious, not wanting to appear too eager and pressure you. "There's no rush. It doesn't have to happen just because it's my birthday," he continued, but you silenced him with another kiss, feeling the muscles in his shoulders relax even more.

"I am ready, Javi," you promised. "I've been thinking about this for like two weeks," you confessed, and he chuckled.

"You have?" he asked, and you nodded. He left a gentle kiss on your lips and seated you on his knee. "Look at me, baby," he said. "You tell me if you want to stop, anytime, okay?" You nodded. "As I told you, there's no rush. We'll just have fun as long as you feel comfortable. We're taking things slow."

You knew it! You knew he was the one. His words meant everything to you. You couldn't feel more comfortable and protected with him. Sex was one of the most vulnerable and exposed scenarios for a person, yet you felt like you could do it with your eyes closed, not worrying about anything else in the world as long as it was Javi touching and caressing you.

"I'm gonna take good care of you, mi amor. Do you trust me?"

"With my entire life, Javi," you answered.

He smiled again, proudly, and took you by the waist. Without wasting any time, he placed you in the center of his bed. You opened your legs, inviting him to take his place between them. He admired you from the top, your body so sexy in that garment, your flushed cheeks, and your shining eyes. That image used to be in his dreams, but now there you were, right in front of him, on the verge of being completely his. And only God knows how much he wanted to be entirely yours.

Javi bent over you, his hands caressing every inch of your body, worshipping you. His lips left wet kisses on the delicate skin of your neck, jawline, and collarbone. Your hands roamed his arms, where his prominent muscles bulged from supporting his weight to avoid crushing you.

And then you felt his hardened cock against your core, making everything feel more real. You moaned in the middle of a kiss, overcome by the sensation and anticipation of what was about to happen. Javi began to press his bulge against the delicate fabric of your panties, leaving a wet spot on his pants.

His hand reached for one of your breasts, gently caressing your hardened nipple, causing a moan to escape into his mouth. The touch sent electric shocks through your core, making you grow increasingly wet.

"Javi, Javi..." you cried out, moving your pelvis to meet him halfway, trying to alleviate the building urgency stemming from your clit.

"You're so needy," he whispered into your ear, his words sending shivers down your spine and painting your skin with goosebumps. "Tell me what you want, preciosa, I want to hear you."

"Touch me, please," you begged as he moved against you. "Please, I need you."

"Fuck," he growled. His hands went to your back, undoing your bra, and he paid careful attention to the way your breasts were revealed for him.

His lips began on yours but then trailed down your jaw, finding their way to your neck. Wet kisses on your chest made you sigh, and then you lost all coherent thought the moment he captured one of your nipples with his mouth. Your back arched, and your fingers tightly gripped his arm. He moved to the other nipple, teasing with his tongue and teeth. Your whimpers filled the room, his name escaping your lips like a prayer, as you surrendered all control over your own body. You didn't want him to stop; you wanted more, so much more.

As if he were a mind-reader, his hand slipped into your panties. His thick fingers parted your wet folds, caressing you up and down, collecting your honey as they found your clit. A gasp escaped your lips due to the sudden and new sensation, feeling your arousal dripping from your sensitive pussy. You couldn't help but moan louder, your toes curling between the covers at the foot of the bed.

"You're so wet already, baby. That's so fuckin' good" He traced soft circles, bringing you relief. He teased your entrance with his fingers, but he didn't penetrate deeply. His thumb continued to stimulate your throbbing clit, while his middle finger attempted to enter you. You could feel the pressure between your folds, and due to your inexperience, it left you feeling overwhelmed.

Now it was your turn to slip your hand inside his pants, something Javi hadn't seen coming. He had been so concentrated on your pleasure that he didn't notice until you wrapped your trembling hand around his hard, warm cock. His skin felt like velvet under your touch. You began moving up and down, a little clumsy and uncertain if you were doing it correctly, but your desire was for him to feel as good as he was making you feel. In response, Javi let out a deep moan, his hips instinctively moving to find your touch, and he started whispering your name like a prayer.

"Yeah, baby, you're such a good girl," he praised, making you moan and became wetter. A few seconds passed, until he moved, ceasing his touch and forcing yourself to let him go. "I need to taste you," he said, slowly tracing a path with his kisses down your body, starting with the exposed skin of your breasts, then moving to your stomach and bellybutton, until he reached your panties. You watched as he positioned his head between your thighs, leaving gentle kisses on each side and slowly making his way toward your core.

"I think you don't need these anymore, sweetheart," he whispered as his fingers gripped the tiny straps on each side of your panties, slowly removing them. A gentle breeze caressed your wetness, and you let out a shivery sigh. He created a trail of soft kisses that led to your center until he finally began kissing your core. The sensation was unexpectedly delicious. You let out a cry and felt the impulse to close your legs, but he prevented it by grabbing you and making you stay still. You lost yourself in a whirlwind of sensations, where only you and Javi existed.

You were a virgin, but you weren't a saint. Of course, you had pleasured yourself before, often thinking of Javier Peña, but the way he was making you feel with his mouth was something else entirely. He was real, devouring you with the hunger of a starved man. His hands caressed your hips, your belly, and reached for your breasts. You couldn't help but whimper and praise him.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark and filled with lust. Unconsciously, Javi began to thrust his hips against the mattress, feeling the moist spot of precum staining his pants and boxers. His balls had become heavier, desperate for attention after several weeks without a woman's touch. Of course, he had taken care of himself, jerking himself off in the shower or during the nights he spent alone in his apartment. He always thought of you, reminiscing about your kisses, the warmth of your body against his, and even the way your pencil skirt hugged your heart-shaped butt around the Colombian Embassy.

"Javi... I... I want to come," you whimpered, feeling a knot growing steadily in your belly, signaling your impending climax. Meanwhile, Javi tasted your sweet honey pouring on his tongue. He intensified his attentions, fastening his sucks on your swollen clit, alternately licking your vulva and your entrance. Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, seeking something to hold onto as you approached your powerful orgasm.

You shattered into a million little pieces, melting all over his mouth, your essence dripping from his chin. He admired your body as it trembled and unraveled in front of him.

"There you go, baby, let it go," he encouraged.

You lost track of time, caring about nothing else; the entire world had disappeared beneath you, and you couldn't care less. As you descended from your peak of pleasure, Javi traced a trail of tender kisses from the curve of your hips to your belly and up to your neck. Until you felt his lips on your mouth again, and you moaned when you tasted yourself on him. You wanted so much more of him, to spend your entire life tangled with him in his bed.

Javier felt your heart beating rapidly against his chest, and for a moment, he thought that you might be tired and overwhelmed. But you proved him wrong by starting to pull his pants down, freeing his dick. You felt his weighty member against your belly, so you looked down. It was the first time you saw it. You found yourself even more aroused, if that was possible, and at the same time, you felt a touch of shyness. By this point, you had allowed him to kiss your entire naked body, bringing you to climax with his skillful mouth, and yet, your cheeks burned at the sight of his cock above you. He couldn't help but notice the pearl-white drops of his pre-cum that painted your lower belly.

"Baby, if you're tired, we can save it for another time," he managed told you, even though he didn't stop you from helping him remove his pants and boxers.

"I want you inside of me, Javi," you begged, your voice carrying more desperation than you had realized. "I want to make you feel as good as you've made me feel."

"You're such a naughty girl, who would've known?" he chuckled.

"Only for you, Javi," you assured him.

His eyes darkened further, drawing nearer to your lips again. "I can't believe no one has ever touched you before," he said, "You're every man's dream."

"Many had tried," you confessed. He felt a wave of jealousy, because he knew it was true and he couldn't bear the thought of another man touching you, kissing you... It made him feel selfish, but he couldn't help it. "But no one but you was worthy. I waited for the right moment; I always knew it would be the right man. And I knew it was you the very first moment I saw you."

"I swear I'll spend the rest of my life being worthy of you," he said, dead serious, and you could tell from the look in his eyes.

After placing a peck on his lips, you said, "You can start by fucking me," with a shy smile on your face. You were attempting some dirty talk, but he could tell from the way you whispered and tried to hold back a laugh that it made you feel a bit awkward. He also promised himself that he would help you get used to it, taking charge of teaching you.

"Your wish is my command, bonita" he answered. Javi reached for the first drawer of his nightstand and, without searching too much, took out a condom.

He knelt between your legs, and you watched him put it on. He was bigger and thicker than you had imagined. For the first time that night, you felt a wave of nervousness coursing through your body, anticipating the pain you had always heard about the first time.

Would it hurt? Would he be gentle enough with you? Would there be any bleed? These thoughts raced through your mind as he positioned himself at your entrance, collecting your wetness with the head of his dick. He had been so focused on this moment that he hadn't noticed your worried expression until he looked up at you for a kiss. In that very moment, he stopped, his heart skipping a beat. He didn't want you to feel unsure or uncomfortable. His only desire in that moment was for you to have the best experience, feeling loved and well taken care of by him.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. You shook your head to indicate that everything was okay. "Words, baby, I need you to use your pretty mouth," he added, his voice gentle.

"Everything's fine," you assured him, trying not to sound too nervous. "I'm just a little nervous."

"That's normal, mi amor, just relax," he replied. His lips met yours, and then he whispered in your ear, "You tell me if you need anything, preciosa. Are you ready?"

"Yes," you sounded more confident this time, and you could hear a smirk forming on his lips as he buried his face in your neck, and you held onto his strong arms.

Javi's hand traveled between your bodies, and you could feel him positioning at your entrance. The sensation made you gasp. Then he began to push inside slowly. At first, you felt pleasure, followed by a slight burning, as if something inside you were stretching. You couldn't help but wince and feel yourself growing pale. Javier didn't move, and you were grateful for that because you needed a moment.

"Are you alright?" he asked in a whisper, his voice tense.

"I'm okay," you tried to convince him – and yourself ��� that everything was fine. But it wasn't; it hurt a bit, it felt invasive. You wanted him to continue, but at the same time, you needed a break. So you decided, "Could you... could you pull out?"

He immediately complied, carefully withdrawing, his forehead creased in concern. "Did I hurt you?" he asked.

"No, it just felt awkward"

"Do you want to try again?" he asked. You couldn't tell because he didn't show any hints, but he was almost praying for you to give him an affirmative answer. He was as hard as a rock, and it was almost painful. However, he wouldn't push you to do something that might hurt you, so he remained patient and reminded himself that he had a whole lifetime to wait for you to be ready.

"I do," you murmured. He nodded, kissed you again, and continued. He left soft kisses along your neck and shoulders. You smell so good, like a mix of fresh flowers and fruits, he thought. It drove him completely insane.

"Relax, bonita. You're doing so fuckin' well," he praised. This time, when you felt him inside, it didn't hurt as much as before. On the contrary, it became a pleasant sensation.

Then you realized that he wasn't fully inside yet. As he continued to push, stretching you further, any discomfort faded away.

"You feel so good," Javier took his time to start moving slowly. His chest touch your nipples, stimulating them, making you increased your soft cries of pure pleasure. That was when all uncertainty disappeared. You began to feel incredible. Moan built up in your chest and escaped your throat. Javier was captivated by your gaze as you saw him directly in his eyes, and the way your lips parted to release cute moans and sighs.  Nose, cheeks, and chest turned red, the frown on your brow, and the way you scrunch your nose. He wouldn't last long. You looked so cute and sexy at the same time. You were a completely goddess, so pure and gorgeous.

His face disappeared between your hair and neck, leaving soft kisses and tasting your essence, whispering your name right into your ear amidst his own moans and pleasure-filled grunts.

"¿Te gusta, mi amor?" he wanted to hear you, although your mouth emitted the most sensual sounds he had ever heard.

"Si...," you could barely speak; the bliss was too intense, rendering you almost speechless. He was fucking you completely dumb. "Si, Javi, así me gusta."

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned. He rose to his knees again, his hands firmly gripping your hips to raise them and thrust harder. He was captivated by the way your beautiful breasts bounced, your face lost in pleasure, goosebumps covering your body. The morning sun illuminated your skin and hair.

He knew he wouldn't last, but he needed to make you cum again. Using his thumb, he began tracing circles on your swollen clit, sending you into an intense spiral of raw pleasure. Your back arched of its own accord, and your hand clutched his wrist just to have something to hold onto.

"¡No pares, Javi!" you whimper, so ecstasy-filled, begging him to keep fucking you like that. "Oh, you feel so good, Javi. I... I'm..."

"Cum for me, baby," he encouraged, "I wanna see you fucking cumming on my cock."

And then another wave of pure chaos consumed you. You threw your head back against the pillow, digging your nails into the muscles of his beautiful, strong arms. You felt your world crumbling beside you, and imploring again.

Javier had never cum as hard as he did the very moment he felt your pussy clenching around his cock. His balls throbbed as he cum inside of you. He was so deep on you, filling the condom with his thick, warm load and he couldn't help but imagine your pussy filled with his cum. Carrying his baby...

A couple of seconds passed until you both came down from the clouds. Javi pull out before went completely soft. He reach again for his night table and looked for a box of Kleenex and started cleaning the mess he made. And then he cleaned you, so gentle and caring. Then, he lay next to you, pulling your naked and warm body to his, kissing the top of your head.

"How do you feel, bonita?" he wanted to know. With one hand he traced soft circles on your arm, and with the other he massaged your head, making you feel sleepy.

"Amazing," you mumbled.

"Sleep, baby, you sound tired," he spoke in a soothing tone.

"But I've plan an entire birthday for you..." you tried to say, but your body felt so relaxed and exhausted.

"We have an entire life to do whatever you want, mi vida hermosa," he placed a soft kiss on your forehead and thighed his embrace around your body. "Now sleep, baby."

"Happy birthday, Javi," those were your last word before fell asleep on his arms, bodies tangled and hearts still racing.

Javier Peña wasn't a selfish man, but he wanted you to be his for as long as he may live.

NEXT CHAPTER

[yandere-daydreams]

Not sure if you've ever been asked this before so apologies if it's been asked!

How do you write such dark content? Like what's your thought process for it. Do you ever think of giving reader a good ending or is it usually just give reader the most unhappy experience.

I know some people have said they would kill themselves after til the water boils but like part one ending didn't seem that bad? Just humiliating. Part two is definitely worse, but I wouldn't say suicide level. I'm sure reader is still getting three meals a day, fawned over after they endured their punishment, and possibly make it back to their happy princess lifestyle after a few months to years. (Also, what was the worst punishment that Satoru had to convince Suguru not to do?? I'm genuinely curious because Geto still loves reader obviously so I don't think he'd do permanent damage)

Thank you for always writing such great content 💖

hmmm what a question,,, i genuinely do not think there's any universe wherein i wouldn't be writing x reader fanfiction on tumblr dot com, but due to personal factors like my love of horror and my personal lack of interest in traditional romance, i think dead dove stuff is just naturally more appealing to me? it's fun to take the characters i'd be thinking about anyway and nudge them a little further towards their breaking points, and writing is such a clinical activity that i find it, in most cases, to be less emotionally impactful than reading a fic with similar content would be. i can give nanami a foot fetish and forget about next week, it's you people who have to live with the Implications.

as for the reader,,, i think happy endings just aren't what i'm going for? i wouldn't say i've never written one, but i just think there's a lot more elasticity to an unhappy ending than one that leaves the reader in a place they can just sorta chill in forever, and something i really value in a fic is the ability for readers to just. ponder it for a bit longer than they usually would. also all of my happy endings involve the reader-insert rapidly gravitating towards the nearest woman and falling in lesbian, lesbian love, which can get pretty repetitive pretty quickly. best to space them out and piles on the suffering, in the meantime.

[ninesbey0nd]

Forbidden Waltz | Kang Yeosang

SYNOPSIS. Your university is quite well renowned for its creative and abstract programs, so it was no surprise that the majority of the students were pursuing a profession in arts. There was a focus in art, film, dance, drama, music, you could go on. These departments, however, enforced an unspoken, exclusive clique social norm. You never understood it. Thus, the student body was quite split based on their major.

PAIRING. Dance Major! Yeosang x Art Major! Reader (afab)

GENRE. enemies to lovers, mutual pining, edgy Yeosang, smut, Dom! Yeosang

WARNINGS. Profanity, NSFW, bullying themes, unprotected sex (wrap ya willy!), penetrative sex, fingering, oral (giving) semi public sex (?)

if you wanna be added to my tag list lmk! :) <3

Reqs are open!

Ever since freshman orientation, you remembered that one man’s stupid fucking face

Kang Yeosang

He was one of the most talented dancers to enter the university's program, being consistently scouted and recruited from various labels and companies

Despite this, he never paid attention to any of the offers he received

He would always gloat about how he valued the college experience more than putting himself out there for fame

You couldn't stand him. He was so full of himself.

Sure, you would admit that he was good-looking. Maybe more like exceptionally good-looking, but you would never admit that aloud

He already had the entire student body whipped for him. Not only was he phenomenal at dance but he had a charismatic personality as well

He was a magnet for people, that was for sure

quickly climbing the social hierarchy at the school, and of course, being in a completely different field of study had the two of you barely seeing one another

which was a good thing, you thought

You didn't know what it was, but something about him really bothered you

He always presented himself as a model student, he wouldn’t take anything less than perfect

In addition, he seemed to have no qualms with anyone, including departments outside of dance

He was odd, that was for sure

You swore this kid was some sort of machine from what you heard about him, it seemed too good to be true

And you were right

You have to walk past the dance department to reach your section of the art building

A practice room door is cracked open and you hear someone… punching a wall?

You poked your head in and saw none other than Yeosang slumped against the mirror, head held in his hands

“I fucking hate this goddamn school I hate all these annoying ass dickheads I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.”

Holy shit.

Mr. Perfect wasn't so perfect anymore

You were lost in your own wave of thoughts until you noticed Yeosang looking directly at you, eyes narrowed to points

“What the fuck do you want?”

He is not having it.

Who does this art nerd think they are? invading his practice room like it's some kind of open house.

“Get the fuck out,” he pulled himself upward and took a few steps toward the door where you stood

Your lips flatten into a tight line. “Sorry, sorry I’m going—,” You pulled yourself away from the door and slammed it shut

Fuck.

He was not happy.

You knew the power he held on campus too

Anxiety hit you like a bus.

What if he told people that you were a creep?? What if he got the art department to turn on you??

You vigorously shook your head, praying that nothing would come from that interaction

boy were you wrong

You swore you never saw this man on campus and now suddenly you see him everywhere??

Wherever you go— the library, dining hall, and in the unfortunately shared building between art and dance — he is always right behind you

It got to a point where you would purposefully show up early or late to places to avoid spotting the all-too-familiar brunette.

That was until he had you cornered in your art room.

“What are you doing here?” You spun around, dropping the brush in your hands and nearly kicking your easel over

“You don’t belong here—“

Yeosang slammed the studio door behind him, rattling your art supplies on the table.

You nearly jumped a foot into the air

“What the fuck!”

He simply folded his arms over his chest and leaned his body against the doorframe.

“I thought it’d do you well to have a taste of your own actions,” He yawned, his gaze followed your movements in an almost predatory manner.

“Are you serious— it was a mistake! I never meant to go into your dumbass dance studio,” you scoffed, returning your focus to the painting in front of you.

As you swiped your brush across the textured canvas, doing your best to avoid the pair of eyes burning into the back of your head, you failed to notice a shadow looming over your figure.

“Hmm, maybe you are talented after all.” Yeosang’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck, tickling your skin softly.

You leaped out of your seat, tripping and nearly knocking everything over in front of you had you not saved yourself on a nearby counter.

“Seriously Yeosang, get out.” You hissed with disdain. “I can’t focus on getting anything done when you’re—“

He advanced toward you, step by step.

You hadn’t realized how close he had gotten to you until your back hit the edge of the counter.

shit

His hands caged you against the table and you felt him tilt his head down toward you

"Hm?" His eyes raked down your body as his head leaned to the side

“Whats wrong artsy?” He wore a shit eating grin displayed across his lips.

“Yeosang Im not playing around right now I need to—!”

You were cut short as his lips crashed against yours. His hands moved from the counter to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You found yourself frozen, before you melted into his touch.

What has gotten into you?

He pulled away for a split second to take a breath, his gaze resting on your lips.

“I didn’t take you as a rule breaker,” He chuckled lowly, his hand traveling to the side of your waist.

You hated to admit it, but something inside of you was actually enjoying this.

A dance and art student?? getting together?? never heard of.

Let alone in the middle of an art studio.

“Yeo—“

His hands gripped your sides and he lifted you onto the counter, boxing you in with his arms.

“Hmm?” He looked up at you, his eyes flashing with mischief.

“We’re in an art atudio,” you hesitated, shifting your weight around.

“And?” He leaned forward, causing you to lean backward on your hands.

“I— Isn’t this a little much?” Your eyes darted around the room, inspecting the entrances and windows.

“Not if we make this quick,” Yeosang grins up at you.

His hands make their way down to the waistband of your bottoms. His eyes meet yours, waiting for any hesitation or uncertainty.

“Y—You can.” You managed to sputter out, turning away from his gaze.

Despite looking away you could practically feel him smirking.

His fingers dipped up under your shirt, the tips of his fingers grazing over your waist before dipping down and hooking onto your waistband.

You lift yourself up slightly, allowing him to better remove the article of clothing.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, slipping your bottoms off your ankles before tossing it aside.

“Yeo,” you whispered in a hushed tone, squeezing your fists beside you.

What a tease.

His fingers travel down your stomach to the innermost part of your thighs, tracing delicate patterns along your skin.

You whined in response, tensing your legs together as if to create some sort of friction.

His hands continue kneading your thighs until you feel a finger graze your slit.

You let out a soft moan in response, eliciting a pleased hum from Yeosang.

He teases your entrance, spreading your arousal around before plunging a finger inside of you.

You let out a soft moan, “Yeo—“

Your voice catches in your throat when he starts pumping in and out of you, curling his finger upward with his movements.

Your hands fly to grip the table beneath you and you stifled the sounds that threatened to escape past your lips.

He slips a second finger inside you, his movements quickening with each stroke.

He grins up toward you, a seemingly sweet face in contrast to what his hands were doing to you.

“You’re gonna have to be quiet if you don’t wanna get caught,” he leaned over you before sliding his fingers out of you and guiding you off the counter.

His hand caressed the side of your face before he began to lower the waist band of his pants.

You slowly sunk to your knees, your hands over taking his to lower his pants down beneath his hips.

All that was left was his boxers, and you could practically see the outline of his hard on

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers before sliding them down his thighs

Holy fuck

You wrap your fingers around his length, stroking him a few times before you engulf him with your lips

He lets out a low groan of satisfaction, his hand traveling down to cup your cheek

You began bobbing your head down his length, and Yeosang’s head lulled back

“You’re doing so well for me,” he whispered, looking down at you to meet your gaze.

Your eyes met his as you kept up with your pace

Yeosang fisted your hair, guiding your head down his length when a sharp knock to the door alerted you both

You pulled away from him immediately, scrambling backward to put distance between the two of you

The door handle jiggled, and to your relief it had been locked

Yeosang chuckled silently, his gaze shifting from the door back to your form on the floor

“What, did you think I’d be so careless?”

“Now, let’s get back to where we left off.”

[flowerandblood]

The Pearl and the Sapphire (3)

[ modern! • Aemond x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, fingering, smut, angst, sexual tension, obsession ]

[ description: As a representative of a large family-owned gemstone business, Aemond is attending a major jewellery event where jewellery makers from all over the world are exhibiting. One of them is the Baratheon family. Aemond is tasked with focusing on attracting new customers, but his attention is diverted by the youngest daughter of the eminent maker Borros Baratheon. Slow burn, bitchy, possessive and obsessive Aemond, lots of dark angst and sexual tension. ]

A story which is an alternative universe of The Impossbile Choice taking place in modern times. The characters are all the same as in the main series, however, for obvious reasons they will behave differently and experience things differently from medieval times. You can read this without having to delve into the main series.

Series moodboard: Aemond & Miss Baratheon

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

He had no idea what had popped into his head to suggest meeting her in this kind of place in such a direct way, embarrassment and shame got to him as soon as he entered his hotel room. He figured she surely thought he was desperate.

He decided that he would try to be professional and not to show what was hidden in his head.

He turned up at the restaurant ahead of time, informing Alys beforehand that he was going to have a meeting with Borros. He didn't want her meddling in affairs that weren't her own, and he knew that if she found out about the meeting with his daughter, she would surely pester him with messages and check when he would be back.

He sat down at a table tucked as far back as possible so as not to draw attention to himself. He waited all tense, feeling his heart pounding.

Why was he stressing so much about this meeting?

He shuddered when he heard someone's footsteps beside him and saw her above him. He swallowed loudly, seeing her black dress with a white collar, feeling with shame how his cock throbbed greedily at the sight. He stood up, not knowing how to act, how to greet her.

He felt relieved when she extended her hand to him and he shook it. He swallowed loudly feeling how soft, warm and small her hand was. They ordered wine and he started a conversation, wanting to understand why he was actually seeing her and not her father.

"My father values freedom of action. Also the choice of materials to work with. He now works with who he wants and decides for himself what is best for him. He fears that your company, with lawyers deliberating over every comma in the contract, will arrange it so as to influence his decisions as much as possible." She said, and he furrowed his brow at her words, tense.

What was she implying?

"You think we're going to try to trick your father?" He asked annoyed, and she looked at him, something in her gaze that confused him.

"Can I trust you?" She asked suddenly, and he opened his mouth and closed it, surprised and flustered.

What was he supposed to say to her?

"No." He said in accordance with what he himself thought. Seeing her hurt, shocked face he continued, wanting to explain what he meant.

"You can't trust me, just as I can't trust you. You will protect your father's interests and I will protect mine. There is no friendship in business or holding hands in the sunset light." He said with a tinge of mockery, which he immediately regretted seeing a grimace of pain and some kind of disappointment cross her face.

"I didn't know that to trust someone you had to be able to be friends and hold hands. I thought it was enough to be a decent human being." She said in a trembling voice and he pressed his lips together, feeling both rage and shame, his hand clenched into a fist.

"I'm not a decent person." He explained, not wanting to leave her with any illusions.

"Nevertheless, I have with me the terms and conditions of our company written down on paper, without paragraphs written in small print. You can look them over and determine whether you want to pass them on to your father or not." He said a little softer, sensing that something was happening to her, that his answers had broken her for some reason.

Why was she approaching this so emotionally?

His lips parted as he saw tears run down her cheeks. His heart was pounding like crazy and he had no idea what he should do.

They both flinched when her phone began to vibrate in her clutch bag. She wiped her tears quickly and pulled it out, but when she looked at the display she turned pale and shuddered, he felt like she was about to faint.

What was happening to her?

She hid the phone quickly back in her purse, looking at her hands on the table as if she had completely forgotten his presence.

"… are you all right?" He choked out finally, horrified by her condition.

She drew in a loud breath and laughed despairingly at his words through her tears, pouring herself a full glass of wine.

"No."

She wiped her nose, swallowing quietly, trying to calm herself down.

"I'm sorry. Thank you for your honesty. Can I have these documents?" She asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

He swallowed loudly and nodded, grabbing the folder he had placed on the windowsill earlier and handed it to her.

"Go over it calmly. You don't have to rush. My grandfather really cares about this and is willing to wait and read your version of the agreement if you want to present us with one." He said in a slightly softer, calmer tone.

"All right. Thank you." She said softly. They both shuddered as her phone began to vibrate again in her handbag. She took it out, muted it and tucked it back in, her lips tightened into a thin line.

"Someone doesn't understand the word 'no'?" He asked suddenly and swallowed loudly, surprised and embarrassed by his own directness.

What right did he have to ask such things?

He saw her puzzled and confused look, and for a moment she thought strenuously about what she should answer to such a question.

"In a way." She said, grasping her glass in her trembling fingers and taking a deep sip of wine from it.

He pressed his lips together at her words and thought they both needed it.

A relaxation.

It wasn't about quick, rough sex.

He wanted something else from her, but he wasn't sure what.

"Let's move to my room." He said after a moment and pressed his lips together watching her reaction, she threw him a surprised, horrified look. "We can think together about what to answer to a man who won't let you alone."

Say yes, he thought.

I'll give you everything.

He felt a wonderful heat of satisfaction surge through his body as she nodded her head.

They drank what they had in their glasses to the end, then rose from their chairs. He took the half-full bottle in his hand, recognising that they might still need it. They headed for the lift without looking at each other, as if they were both ashamed of what they were doing.

They rode in silence to his floor and started down the corridor. He prayed that Alys wouldn't come out of her room, he didn't feel like explaining himself to her. He quickly put his card to his door and opened it, letting her in, looking around and finding to his relief that no one had seen them.

He walked in behind her and closed the door, turning on the hall light, pulling off his leather jacket and boots. She also pulled off her shoes and put them next to him, then stepped deeper uncertainly, looking around.

His room was actually an apartment with a view of the city, couches in the middle and a huge TV, a large double bed to his left. He saw her glance at it out of the corner of her eye and swallowed quietly, he felt his cock pulsate painfully hard in his trousers.

There was no way this was going to end well, he thought.

Still, he never felt better.

He moved to the kitchenette and reached two glasses from the shelves, feeling a pleasant heat in his stomach. He knew it wasn't just the effects of the alcohol.

He turned, walking to the small table opposite the sofa, placing the glass on it, seeing that she was still standing in the same place, terrified.

She was afraid he was going to do something to her.

That he would add something to her drink.

"What does he want from you?" He asked, wanting to relax her, to distract her from her worrying thoughts.

She blinked and lowered her gaze, embarrassed, coming shyly closer, her scent reaching his nose again. She sat down on the sofa and he sat beside her at the other end of it, keeping his distance, wanting to give her the feeling that he would not do anything against her will.

He saw that with a trembling hand she had taken her phone out of her clutch bag and unlocked her phone. She began to read the messages she had apparently received and pressed her lips together, tucking her mobile into her bag again.

He saw that she had shut herself in and was breathing anxiously. She swallowed loudly and looked at him finally. He felt a shudder pass through him at her words.

"Question for question."

He tapped the inside of his cheek with the tip of his tongue, wondering whether to agree. She could end up asking him something he didn't want to talk about at all. He decided, however, that it might be interesting and he would have a chance to learn more about her.

He nodded, leaning over and pouring them the rest of the wine from the bottle. He heard her sigh quietly.

"My ex-boyfriend wanted to be my friend. Months later, when I finally got myself together, he now decided he had made a mistake. That maybe we should get back together after all." She said with resignation, reaching for her glass.

He felt discomfort and a tightening in his stomach at the thought that she had been with someone before, at the thought of some men before him touching her.

That this men, this idiot, who left her wanted to take her for himself again.

"You and the woman you were with at the banquet. Are you two together?" She asked uncertainly, taking a sip of wine, leaning against the sofa, settling herself comfortably, looking at him expectantly. He pressed his lips together, looking ahead, raising his glass to his lips.

"No."

It wasn't a lie.

"Why did you break up?" He asked immediately and felt her move next to him uneasily. She swallowed loudly, pulling her legs up to her thighs, changing position.

"He wanted to have some more fun." She said quietly, as if in shame, and he cast her an anxious glance, feeling a strange tightness in his throat. He wanted to say something, but she pre-empted him with another question, from which he froze.

"Are you sleeping with her?" She asked without even looking at him, her gaze directed to her glass, which she held in her hands.

He felt his heart start pounding hard. Her question felt like a realisation of what he was doing, a realisation of who he really was. He thought there was no point in deceiving her, that she deserved at least to be completely honest with her.

"Yes." He said, immediately taking a deep sip of wine, unsure if he could bear her reaction.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and saw that she had swallowed with difficulty, sleepiness and fatigue on her face. She finally lifted her gaze to his, despite the fact that what he had said had clearly struck her, he could see no condemnation or disgust in her eyes. She parted her lips slightly as if struggling with what she was trying to say.

"Why did you want us to come here?"

Silence.

He stared at her feeling the artery in his neck pulsing hard, his heart pounding like mad, his member throbbing in his trousers. He was ashamed of how obvious his desire was and didn't know what to answer. The longer they looked at each other, the more uncomfortable and vulnerable he felt.

"You can say it. It's okay." She said softly, gently, and he felt heat spilling over his lower abdomen, his throat tightening as if in pain. There was something tender, reassuring in her voice, as if she understood him.

She was not judging.

"I want it." He whispered almost silently, his lower lip trembling as he spoke the words.

She pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze, as if his words intimidated her, though he didn't believe she hadn't expected them. He thought she would tell him that she couldn't, that she had just ended a relationship and didn't want to spend the night with a stranger whose private life was one big mess.

He twisted in his seat as she set her glass down on the table and moved closer to him, sitting in front of him on her lap. She took his hand in hers, and he shuddered when he felt her thumb run over his skin.

For a moment he didn't know if he should move or do anything, his gaze fixed on their hands, her touch gentle, safe, respectful. He set his glass down on the table and looked at her. He took her soft cheeks in his trembling hands.

For a moment they both just looked at each other breathing unevenly, asking each other wordlessly for permission. They leaned towards each other and their lips touched tentatively, her lips puffy and moist, sweet from the wine and her scent.

They both sighed quietly, gently sucking and licking their lips with a wet click, he purred contentedly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He wandered his nose over her soft face, his one hand tentatively sliding down to her thigh, his fingertips trailing over her skin.

He felt shivers run through her, her hands holding him tightly.

He wasn't sure if this was really happening or if it was just his imagination.

His face slid up to her ear, surrounding her cheek and neck with his hot, aroused, erratic breath.

"– I want to taste you –" He whispered. She drew in a loud breath and trembled all over, clasping her hands in his hair.

He looked at her, her cheeks were flushed, her parted lips red from alcohol and lust, she stared at him with a warmth from which he felt hot in his chest.

"– will you let me? –" He asked softly and she nodded shyly, embarrassed by what they were both doing, what they both wanted.

He murmured contentedly feeling his heart pounding, his hands involuntarily sliding down to the thin material of her panties. Wanting to help him, she lay on her back, looking at him with her lips slightly parted, her whole body quivering with emotion.

He couldn't believe that this was really happening.

He slid them slowly down her thighs, watching her face the whole time, wanting to be sure she hadn't changed her mind. She swallowed loudly and pressed her lips together, placing her hands on either side of her head, looking at him pleadingly.

She pleaded him not to hurt her.

He leaned over her, grasping one of her thighs in his hand and pressed his lips to her skin in a gesture of devotion, of desire, of tenderness. He had never treated Alys like this, never felt the need to do so, knew that she just wanted him to fuck her.

But he knew that she now placed her trust in him, and even though she knew he was not a good person, all she wanted was for him not to take advantage of her weakness, not to make her regret it.

His lips with sticky, loud kisses slid lower and lower leaving wet marks on her skin, he felt her breathing quicken, her body trembling in his hands. With a soft, sure movement, he pulled her down so that he had her in the perfect position, lifting her dress up slightly, looking at what was underneath.

"− fuck −" He exhaled, involuntarily running his finger over her entrance, seeing the state she was in, already soaking wet. He heard her squirm softly, surprised by this sudden gesture, her whole body tensed and breathless.

"− you're leaking −" He said delightedly, feeling that from the mere sight of her juices running down her buttocks onto his couch he had become completely hard.

She really wanted it.

She moaned helplessly, sweetly, trembling all over under his touch, as if she was trying to escape from him and at the same time wanted to feel him harder. He ran his thumb over her clit, massaging it in circular, slow motions, spreading her wetness, holding her thigh with his other hand so that she could not move away.

She mewled, tilting her head and he licked his lips involuntarily, seeing how sensitive she was, how his slightest touch drew out reactions from her that made him hot, even though he hadn't done anything to her yet.

"− what made you so wet? − hm? − messages from your ex? −" He asked teasing her, breathing loudly, the tip of his middle finger slipped inside her hot insides and her body arched backwards, she sobbed quietly at his words.

"− answer me −" He said coolly, looking down at her, watching her beautiful, gentle face, all red with exertion and arousal, her lips parted and swollen, her chest rising and falling restlessly, her gaze hot, thirsty, fixed only on him.

"− no −" She mumbled with difficulty, trembling all over, her hands clenched into fists. He hummed with satisfaction at her words, his finger slid in and out of her with a wet click of her juices.

"− maybe we can find the answer to that question together − what do you think? −" He cooed, putting out his finger, gripping her thighs in his hands, spreading them wider, leaning over her. He heard her drew in air loudly feeling his hot breath on her womanhood.

She arched her back and whimpered when the tip of his tongue ran over her sticky entrance.

"− I fucking knew it −" He growled out, pressing his nose against her clit, his tongue slipped deeper, involuntarily wanting to taste her more, her moisture spreading over his palate like the sweetest juice. "− I knew you would taste wonderful −"

He felt her hands clench in his hair, pressing him closer, her thighs trembling in his arms, sweet moans of pleasure erupting from her lips after each of his slightest touches.

Never before in his life had he been so aroused, so thirsty, filled with such tenderness and desire.

His tongue slid in and out of her with a loud, wet click, licking her more and more boldly, concentrating on the hidden point just at her entrance from which spasms passed through her. He groaned throatily when he felt her hips involuntarily begin to respond to his movements, seeking fulfilment.

He heard her sigh of surprise when he abruptly stopped, trailing his lips between her folds and her clit, teasing her only with his hot breath.

"− so − what made you so wet? −" He asked teasingly, waiting for her answer, once in a while tip of his tongue run over her entrance, driving her insane. He heard her swallow loudly, her hands stroking his hair, holding him close.

"− you −" She whispered in a trembling voice so quietly that he barely heard it. A dangerous grin full of satisfaction spread across his face.

"− I can't hear −" He murmured, teasing her, trailing his moist lips over her hot flesh.

"− you − please − ah! −" She moaned loudly, parting her lips wide and clenching her eyes shut, her body arching as his tongue suddenly slid between her folds again, moving quickly and intensely inside her, rubbing her where she needed it.

"− that's fucking right −" He hissed out between caresses, sinking his face deep between her thighs, eating her like a starved man, the only sounds in the room were her loud moans and the sticky, perverted clicks of his saliva mixed with her moisture. He felt her walls begin to pulsate around him and he knew what that meant.

"− Aemond − oh god −" She mewled, and then suddenly her whole body went breathless and tense, a loud, helpless sob escaped her lips.

She tried to push him away from her as the orgasm violently shook her body, but he held her thighs in his hands, not letting her move away one bit, licking devotedly everything that flowed out of her.

He rose at last, wiping his chin and mouth with his hand, looking at her with satisfaction. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted slightly, her cheeks and lips red. Her face had an expression of bliss and serenity, her hands placed idly on either side of her head.

She looked so innocent.

He looked down at her, slowly undoing the button of his trousers and unzipping his fly; she heard it and threw him a quick, uncertain look.

"You still want this?" He asked lowly, looking her straight in the eye, leaning over her, placing his hands on either side of her head. She swallowed loudly, looking at him uncertainly, and then nodded.

"Are you taking pills?" He asked, brushing his lips gently over the skin of her cheeks, wanting to remember this feeling, her hands stroking his face so tenderly, the touch of her fingers so gentle that he felt himself melting.

She shook her head, looking at him with shame. He hummed under his breath and kissed her forehead.

"It's okay. Come here." He murmured, grabbing her in his arms and getting up from the couch with her. Only then did he feel the wine humming pleasantly in his head, she seemed surprisingly light.

He set her down on his bed and reached his hand to the bedside table, pulling a packed condom from one drawer. He saw the look on her face, her eyes big, her lips parted in an accelerated breath.

She swallowed loudly as he lay back between her thighs sliding his trousers and his boxers down a little. She looked away seeing his throbbing, swollen manhood.

With a sure, light movement he put the condom on and grasped her cheek with his hand directing her gaze back to himself.

"– look at me – at what you've been doing to me since I saw you –" He said spreading her thighs, her breathing sped up suddenly at his words. He leaned over her, licking his lips, feeling his heart pounding like crazy with arousal, directing the tip of his member to her entrance.

He had never wanted so much to be inside any woman before.

"– already during the show I was wondering how to get you into my bed – how tight and hot you must be inside –" He murmured, hearing her breathing get quicker and quicker. They both moaned loudly as he slid into her a little, her walls clenching against him greedily.

"− fuck −" He breathed out, with another intense thrust entering her fully, feeling how warm she was, her body leaning back, tasting how much he was filling her tight insides.

He couldn't stop himself, her core was too pleasurable, too warm. Involuntarily he began to move his hips, sliding into her with ease thanks to the wetness from her earlier orgasm.

"− oh, baby −" He exhaled, speeding up, entering her with a loud, wet slap of flesh against flesh, looking at her gentle face on which dreamy delight was painted.

He was surprised to find that they both began to pant loudly, looking at each other with a kind of helplessness, feeling that they needed each other, her hand drew him close and their foreheads touched, her hips tentatively beginning to respond to his movements.

They kissed once, then again and again, uncertainly, slowly, as if they were unsure whether it was too intimate gesture. There was a tenderness and care in their soft, swollen lips that he wouldn't have suspected himself of, he'd never done it this way with Alys, never enjoyed a woman's body in this way.

"− my sweet girl −" He breathed out, moving faster and faster inside her, thrusting into her with all his strength, a whimper escaping her lips, her walls tightening on him steadily.

"− you like it when someone takes care of you, don't you? − when someone fucks you properly −" He gasped in a trembling voice, and she sobbed loudly, struggling to get the confirmation out of her throat.

He tightened his hands on her hips, her fingers entwined in his hair holding him close. He was looking down at her with parted lips, moaning and panting with her, feeling that he wouldn't last much longer, her legs entwined around his waist.

"− I'm gonna cum now, okay? − I'm gonna cum inside my sweet little girl −" He exhaled, and she nodded, shuddering beneath him all over.

"− oh, yes, please −" She mewled and moaned loudly as he slid his tongue into her lips, his hand sliding down to her swollen clit teasing her with his thumb, his cock rubbing against the point hidden inside her with each brutal thrust.

They both moaned low into each other's mouths feeling the orgasm shake their bodies, their hot, loud breaths surrounding their faces, their hands clenched painfully tight on each other in fulfilment.

"− yes − god, yes −" She whispered sweetly, writhing beneath him, giving herself over to the pleasure she was experiencing with him.

He kissed her feeling a wave of pleasure shake him, he felt an immense, overflowing relief, he purred and panted into her throat holding her to him tightly, her walls clenched against him greedily.

Never before had he felt so fulfilled, so at peace.

They both shuddered and looked at each other horrified when they heard a loud knock on his door. He felt his heart pounding at the thought that Alys had heard what they were doing while she was looking for him.

"Aemond? What the fuck? Who the fuck are you in there with?" She asked in a raised, angry and broken tone. His lover looked at him with terrified eyes, her lips quivering with despair. He shook his head wordlessly telling her to be quiet.

"Aemond!" She shouted, slamming her fists against the door, pulling on the handle, however without his card there was nothing she could do.

He lay on top of her feeling her trembling and embraced her, kissing her neck, stroking her head, closing his eye.

"You fucking bastard! Are you fucking this little girl? This little slut? God fucking damn you! How could you do this to me!" She whined and he heard her loud sobs.

He felt how she began to sob quietly in his arms, terrified and shaken, and he embraced her tighter, kissing her temple, letting her snuggle into him, wanting to protect her from what was happening. He heard her quiet, broken whisper.

"What have we done?"

____

Taglist 1

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[yey56]

Villainous x reader that has had a lot of jobs and identities.

DR FLUG 🧪:

He is really curious about your life and how the hell have you managed to enter in so many jobs.

He has a lot of doctorates and has studied several science oriented careers so he's also happy that someone else has some extent qualifications.

Is honestly surprised about your stories. You once told him about working in a morgue as a mortuary assistant and how some paranormal activities happened around you.

You're his first option when he needs someone to substitute him in the lab or in any of his tasks because he knows that there's a high chance of you having already done it before.

Does not understand how you're still alive since most of your jobs have been either live threatening or just high risk.

He will never know the total of how many jobs you have done in the past. Whenever he thinks he already knows everything and that nothing can surprise him you come up with some new anecdotes about another one of your former jobs.

He once asked you if you really had all the qualifications needed for your jobs. You told him that in some jobs you had the qualifications but in others don't so you just lied and pretended (it went well because of your stupid good luck and you golden tongue 😛)

Sometimes you appear with new certificates of several different universities. Hes starting to suspect that you forged them.

You have many forged documents, he once checked your several passports and ID and in each one of them you have a different name and nationality. He's not sure why you haven't been caught yet.

But actually you have, it's just that you make new ones in another location so every police attempt to catch you after your obvious job negligences or some cases you have been accused of scamming are in vain because you keep fading.

He asks himself if you even are called what he calls you. And your answer always will be: we'll never know 🙂

Your experience gives him some calm because you have to have some experience in what you do so he trusts you to not make a havoc of everything you touch (unlike dementia).

Sometimes you two hang out studying something new or trying to teach each other something the other doesn't know. You exchange knowledge while sipping coffe and eating waffles 🥞🧇

Genuinely afraid that someday the justice system would be able to catch you.

Will always have an eye on you. He knows your a menace to his perfec organasation system.

Not gonna lie, the first time he was aware of your falsifying documet activities he was a little afraid you where going to try and use any kind of information against him.

Reader: Flug, whens your birthday

Flug: why? So you can look up my natal chart? So you can figure out my personal data?

Reader: ...So I know when to wish you a happy birthday

Flug:😧😶😶‍🌫️🫥

DEMENCIA 🦎:

You and her together are a really chaotic combination. Not recommended if you value your peace ✌️

Whenever she wants to mess with Flug or with BH she calls for you because you will know what to do in 99% of the time.

For example, she wants to play a prank on Flug but doesn't want him noticing her in the cameras. Then there you are to help her, you disconnect the camera system and somehow convince Flug it has happened out of the blue.

Basically you're the perfect accomplice for any crime she may want to commit.

Remember how I said Flug is starting to suspect that you forged your certificates. Well she bets on her life each one of them are fake, but since your strategy to play pretend always works shes not complaining. 🤗

LOVES to see (and try sometimes) your former uniforms. You have them all put away in your closet and each one of them is different from the last. Heck somehow you manage to get yourself a police uniform. 👮

You are the one making her false identities and forging her documents in case she needs them.

Her and Flug made a bet the she would never get a university degree and that the day she got one he would dress as a sheep (like the sheep jumpsuit Dipper form gravity falls got).

Well she came to you and you did not only forged her a degree you decided that it would be funny AF to have her have a neurology degree.🧑‍🔬

Save to say that Flug passed out once she showed him the document. (You had a pretty good laugh with that)

I mean you're a pretty good team. A chaos agent and a great falsificator that's knows about everything. 💪

She will always have your back in any lie you have.

Like your telling Flug an obviously fake story about your mission with dementia in which you exagerate everything and while he looks at you doubting every word you say dementia comes in and agrees with you adding more shit to the lie.

You have so much fun with her and she's always in for whatever you have in mind. Save to say he's your favourite.🥰

She wants you to break in with her in some bank or prison and do the whole act of pretending to be there working only to then cause havoc and shouting down the security systems.

You joke around a lot, but sometimes the jokes get out of hand:

Dementia: Hey, you know what, I love murder mystery we should watch that.

Reader being absolutely honest for once: well for your information I've been a suspect in four murder cases 😌

Dem:😶

BLACK HAT 🎩

The vast experience is always welcome, the problem is that he has some doubts about the veracity of dome of your capacities but as long as you can work well and not fuck up he's not going to scold you for forging documents or lying in the interview. 👍

Since you clearly have experience in falsifying documents he uses that to make false reports or false contracts to make future clients sign something shady.

Considering that you have worked in lots of fields he can use you for a lot of tasks. Need to restore a old paiting? There you are to do it. His snake pet is suddenly ill or with stomach issues? Worry not, you have worked at a zoo before.

And the list goes on a on. You never get bored there

Really appreciates the wit and the quick thinking you have because it's very useful in a lot of situations. Your just start talking with all of the confidence in the world even though you're probably telling the biggest lie human kind has ever witnessed. 🤫🫢

And the worst of all? It. fucking. works. Even though you seem to have no idea about something you manage to uphold a conversation pretending you know everything about it, and you can keep it up quite a while!!

You also always try to investigate about what you are trying to pretend to know about, just to stay safe.

He's probably the only one that know your real name. But the rest of the crew are always doubting which of your several identities you really are. 🥷

Also the fact that you can change your narrative and pretend to be a whole different person with a whole different life. He adores that, it's very useful for a villain to be able to know how to put an act and get away with it. 😶‍🌫️🫥

Thinks you're valuable to the organisation.

As well as dementia, hes also fully convinced that all of your certificates are false but he doesn't doubt that you have knowledge in those fields. He just thinks you forged the documents and thats it.

Will not believe your obvious exaggerated stories. You're not a reliable narrator since he knows your habit of twisting a little bit the reality or as you put it "selecting the truth".

He doesn't think your completely useless and since you have had lots of experiences in life you are somehow interesting. He feels pity for all of your former bosses, mostly because you confided him that the reason you had so many jobs is because in most of them you got fired. 😐😑

You're the nightmare of employers. 😚✌️

Somehow gets used to your shenanigans and already expects you to generate some kind of problematic situation.

BH, answering the phone: Hello?

Reader: It's reader.

BH: what did they do this time

Reader: No!, it's me, reader. It's actually me.

BH: what the hell did you do this time?! 😤🤬

Reader: it's not like I try to blow things up. It's just sort of happens. Though you've got to admit that the fire is fascinating 🔥

One of his favourites stories you told him was when you were working for an illegal organization that bringed back prehistoric animals to life with the purpose of the tourism of the rich folk.

You were fired because you shot down the security system because in your own words " I always wanted to see a diplodocus close" so since lots of life's were put in danger and some lost in that incident you were fired and sued for that.🦕

Of course you changed identities again and flew away from the place where this was taking place.

You never presented yourself at court. You're not only banned from entering that country but also you have an arrest notice. If you put a foot there you will face life sentence 🫠🙃

Kinda respects your ability to just go away and start a new whenever you go. But will not let you unsupervised.

5.0.5 🐻

Storytelling with him is a MUST.

you have told him so many stories about your past jobs and each one of them has a changed narrative by you but since he loves hearing stories he doesn't think much about it.

When Flug is busy he always asks you to help him with whatever he's doing.

He once catched restoring one of BH's paintings and also wanted to draw so he just brought a notebook next to where you were and stayed there with you.

He makes lots of drawing for you and you either hang them in your bedroom wall or put away in your drawer.

From time to time you gift him little things you have stolen from your former jobs. You worked at an acuarium? You give him a plushie of a whale you kept.

He's confused when you present yourlsef with other names, you have tried to explain it to him but it doesn't really stuck.

Really good listener, if you need to vent to someone it will sure be either him or Flug if you catch him relaxed enough.

Both of you have fun hanging out. You always tell random data about absolutely everything and he just sits there and listens to you.

[amphorographia]

Something interesting about Pathologic that I don't see people talk about very often is the fact that technically none of the protagonists are doctors and, of the three, it's actually Artemy that's the closest to a real physician.

The fact that Daniil is specifically referred to as a "Bachelor" of medicine is something that was always sort of confusing to me but is actually extremely telling when put together with all the other details we get about him.

There's an excellent video essay about Daniil's character by Horror Game Analysis which goes into more detail about this [x], but he points out two things about thanatology that I think are really significant:

It was first conceptualised as a field of study in 1903 by Ilya Mechnikov, a Russian-Ukranian immunologist and microbiologist, who felt that there was not enough known about the phenomenon of death itself; and

Thanatology straddles the line between the humanities and the sciences because it's investigations grapple with the physical, psychological, socio-cultural, philosophical, and spiritual elements of death

With all that in mind and Pathologic's ambiguous time period, Daniil could very much be read as the in-game world's equivalent of Mechnikov. Despite his (sort of) alignment with the philosophically-minded Kains, Daniil is consistently shown to be very much focused on the physical components of death. He came to the town hoping that "[Simon's] tissues will help [him] defeat death." Rubin, Artemy, Victor (and Lara, Yulia, Aspity, Anna, and Clara) all need him to collect and examine blood samples for evidence of the disease. Once the plague begins, his focus in on the creation of a vaccine - a tool for immunisation - instead of a cure.

All of the evidence points to Daniil, at his core, being a microbiologist and researcher. His medical knowledge, while far above average, is highly specialised and doesn't indicate that he has any practical experience as a physician. He's not a doctor, he's a bachelor of medicine using his theoretical and academic expertise to fight an impossible disease in the only way he knows.

Now, Artemy does have some practical knowledge. Isidor taught him about the traditional medicine of the town while he was growing up before sending him to "study modern medicine in the academy" when he was 16. However, in his opening description, all we are told is that Artemy is returning from several years of "travelling from town to town learning theoretical and pratical surgery." In Pathologic Classic, Artemy is canonically 26 years old so if he spent 6-7 years travelling, his formal medical education was likely either short or incomplete. Not to mention that the emphasis on Artemy as a surgeon and menkhu (much like Daniil as a bachelor and thanatologist) implies a very specialised area of expertise which, although closely related to practical medicine, is not the same thing.

This is reinforced in a number of ways. For example, while there are multiple dialogue options which let you dismiss the town's local medical practices, they appear mostly (or only) in conversations with outsiders - responding to Daniil's admission of underestimating the value of "steppe medical knowledge" with "there's nothing medical in their knowledge" and telling Block that he has "an education in the civilized world and ha[s] forgotten two thirds of the specific local practices." Ultimately, Artemy is more consistently aligned with the Kin's more bodily approach to medicine. That distinction between Kin and Town is important, since the traditional medicines Artemy makes are not valued or trusted by townspeople and the kin refuse almost all of the modern medicine (specifically antibiotics) sold in the town.

He also seems to be either unfamiliar or seriously out of practice with the more formal language of science and medicine a university-educated physician should know. At several points, Artemy is shown to be dependent on Daniil's medical knowledge, and various members of the town poke fun at him for asking clarifying questions - Boy: "You graduated from a university and this is your question…?" Rubin: "I thought you were [away] studying." Artemy's story is about trying to fill his father's role and, while he succeeds in becoming a menkhu, his position as the town's doctor is less clearly defined even after the plague. While he begins the game with the most practical experience of the three protagonists, the fact that he's not qualified to be a physician but has to act as one is what drives his story forward.

I won't go into Clara since it's obvious she's not a doctor. If anything, she's more like a personification of a cure for this one specific disease (just like her 'twin' is the plague). She couldn't reset a bone or diognose the flu any more than she could synthesise antibiotics or distinguish between bacteria in a blood sample. Still, she's an interesting comparison point and does serve to remind the player that the protagonists don't really represent different approaches to medicine, but different approaches to healing.

The Bachelor is the modern healer of formal scientific practices who sees healing as the result of understanding the body, disease, and their interactions.

The Haruspex is the traditional healer with the spiritual or ancestral right to protected knowledge and practices who sees healing as a reflection of cultural duty, customs, and community.

The Changeling is the divine healer chosen by a Deity (or Deities) to carry out their will on earth who sees healing as an act of religious faith and demonstration of the existence and power of God(s).

[lord-squiggletits]

Semi related to the other day's post about people calling OP a hypocrite for not wanting to kill people, it also really annoys me how often this fandom (even in corners like MegOP where OP is ostensibly one of the main characters) just disregards or does not care about how Optimus feels. Or seemingly doesn't even comprehend that OP having his own emotions/goals besides validating Megatron/whoever else he's being shipped with or interacing with. Or they think that every time OP is "mean" to someone else it's bad and awful, but when any other character does bad things it's justified because they were upset/hurt.

It's not really a commentary on character apologism or morality so much as it is annoyance that the spaces I've been around in near universally don't give a crap about how Optimus feels ever. Like, to use MegOP as an example since that's my main context of seeing Optimus content, I always see takes like this that only center Megatron's experiences/feelings while completely ignoring anything Optimus feels.

Like. TF One? It's okay for Dee to turn on Orion because he feels betrayed by him "siding with" Sentinel and Orion is such a jerk for banishing him from Iacon. But god forbid that OP might be a little upset about being dropped down a pit by his own best friend (and then said best friend immediately tries to kill him again when he comes back) and want Megatron to get the hell away from him if he's gonna be so violent.

Can't even count the number of examples in IDW1. Megatron is traumatized and oppressed so that means he can do as many crimes as he wants and hurt Optimus as much as he wants because "Optimus should've just listened to him better" never mind that OP literally did listen but no one besides dedicated IDW OP lovers ever points out that OP has a right to be pissed off at Megatron for some of the shit he did to him. People get mad at IDW OP for making Megatron give a speech denouncing the Decepticons because it's mean/controlling/anti-revolutionary or whatever (never mind that OP letting Megatron go free on a space adventure is incredibly permissive and informed by his personal bias towards Megatron) but they could care less about the fact that OP is staying on Cybertron dealing with the remaining Decepticons + shit with the neutrals and might maybe want Megatron to pull his weight deescalating the post-war situation so that Optimus has an easier time trying to manage.

It's very much a thing that heroic characters are held to higher moral standards than villains and grilled over doing similar things that villains are cheered for. But this isn't even some strictly moral thing, it's just. So fucking bizarre how ready people are to demonize Optimus because "he hurt X" or "he got in the way of Y" or "he sided with Z when he should've sided with A" but completely disregard all of the many, usually valid reasons Optimus has for doing what he did! It's all about poor woobies who suffered so much and are doing bad things because they're upset and justified from their perspective. But all of a sudden when it's Optimus, his feelings don't matter and how things look from his perspective (his goals, values, obligations, what he feels is right or wrong, the depression he often has across continuities) doesn't matter either. He did something that made someone else feel bad therefore he's the literal worst who only does things out of hypocrisy/self-righteousness.

It's not like Optimus could ever experience emotions like depression, anger, frustration, fear, loneliness, urgency, etc etc that drive him to do what he does. Optimus has no internal struggles between what he desires as a person versus what he feels is the right thing to do/what he's obligated to do. Getting sympathy for the very real hurt and struggle he experiences is just for every other character except Optimus, I guess. Swear to god the majority of the fandom doesn't actually see Optimus as a character and instead just sees him as a prop to either validate their fave or to act as a scapegoat for whatever's wrong with the plot.

[leezlelatch]

There seems to be some discourse lately about content, the kind of content, and the community as a whole. Now, the last thing I want to do is stir up anything, but I had some thoughts that I'd like to type out, and I appreciate whomever decides to read it.

The purpose of this band is to make us happy. You've heard it time and time again, as long as we go home at the end of that show feeling just a little better, then TF is satisfied. And it seems like lately that happiness is hard to achieve here, on twitter, or wherever else one is active.

On Headcanon

Were you sitting at work today? Home? And suddenly that thought popped into your head, a little scene playing out about Copia, or Terzo, or Secondo, or Primo. A thought that filled you with excitement, butterflies dancing in your belly, which had you smiling because yes, in the world that makes you happy, that is what they are like. That is what they do. That is what they say. It's an amazing thing and it's good and okay, and you should be excited about it. Because you just added another chapter to the amazing story in your head. And you decide to post about it, but...someone left you an anon. Someone left you a comment. Someone vague posted. And it hurt.

This is happening far too often across tumblr, and it needs to come to a close. I understand that we all have vastly different ideas of who the Papas are and how the Ministry works, but that does not give a single one of you an excuse to say anything untoward or foul to anyone else on this platform. And this isn't talking about any particular group because more often than not, posts like this are used to justify the actions of others. You do not have permission to use this to further your agenda. Be kind. Choose to ignore that fic. Choose to stay off that person's blog. Stop making posts at the expense of others just because you don't like a particular aspect of their world.

I promise you'll still be able to sleep at night.

On F! Reader and x Reader Fic

I have seen many posts since I joined tumblr to write for the Ghost fandom that express a dislike toward reader fics, and in particular f! reader fics. I can't speak for anyone else, but I'd like to just reflect on my own thoughts on the matter, and once again, I appreciate the time taken to read and perhaps understand where I'm coming from, and know that it is a place of care.

I am a woman. When I write fic, I am writing it to satisfy my own little world in my head. So naturally, I am going to make the reader female, because the universal you is not only the friends I share it with or those kind enough to read, but the you is me. Every sweet word whispered, or gentle touch from a Papa is something I wish would happen to me.

I do not have the right to invade someone else's perspective. I do not understand what it is to be a gay man. I do not understand what a trans person experiences every day, and therefore, I do not feel like it is my place to write these perspectives in an x reader fic, or more so than that, in smut. And otherwise, I'm just not comfortable in doing so. I know my experience, and isn't the first step of writing, writing what you know?

I want there to be inclusivity in writing, but that doesn't start with attacking other authors for writing from their own perspective. It doesn't start with making hostile posts about reader fics, because what's the outcome? You just end up with some people very hurt and unwilling to post their stories because they think it's unwanted.

If you feel comfortable exploring these topics, talk to your mutuals. Say hey, what can I do to gain a better understanding of the content that I'm writing? What can I do to ensure that I'm not fetishizing due to my lack of knowledge? Be a community, and help each other out.

On Notes and Reblogs

A note is not the value of your writing. Whether you receive just a few or hundreds, you have impacted someone. Someone loved your story. Someone is thinking about your story all day. Someone was able to make it through because that one thing line you wrote spoke volumes to them.

We put so much of our energy into worrying about notes that the reason we started writing in the first place is lost. It becomes a chore. There are a hundred WIPs sitting in our folders because it becomes so goddamn painful just to work on one.

No one owes you a reblog. No one owes you a like. And even though it's nice, and it's gratifying to see nice comments on something you worked hard on, notes cannot be used as a currency between followers or mutuals. It just becomes a poison. Your entire tumblr experience is going to be marred by the constant worry that you aren't good enough just based on a number.

Learn to appreciate the ones who do read. Allow your story to make you feel good because there it is! That thing you've been thinking about. It's written down. You brought it to life. That is far more valuable than a tumblr note.

If you've reached this point, thank you. Everything you're feeling is good, and okay, and we're gonna get through. Because even now? When it feels like things are more hostile than happy? You still have Ghost. And you still have everything.

[arthenaa]

Dark Red - Sebastian x gn!reader x Ominis

PLOT SUMMARY: while the world perceives the heavens and the underworld as realms clashing against one another in pursuit of building a world for their philosophies, the truth is that change is not so far beyond them. Especially when an angel and a demon begin competing against one another to pursue one of the overseers of purgatory: you.

WARNINGS: fluff, a bit of crack, reader is a heavenly figure, devil! seb, angel! ominis, sebastian and ominis r simps for you, ominis and sebastian are also dense af w each other, imagine not being aware that ur in love with the person u want to kill so bad, reader is both wingman, love interest, and just unbothered as fuck, ominis is referenced to be gabriel, modern setting, angels and demons are in an office setting its kinda funny, you're a tired girl boss just trying to make sense why these two idiots keep visiting you during work hours, God is kinda not happy w that, heavy christian ideologies and imagery, religious references, references to demons and the underworld, inaccurate and fictional connections of religious terms and biblical figure, norse terms cuz y not

TERMS: Highgard = Heaven, MidPath / Middle Path = Purgatory, Underworld = Hell, Fallen = devils / demons, Midgard = Earth

note: heya hihi <3 doing this in the midst of writing comms so that my head can get a break ueue. also a little celebration for my 20th bday and having 1M followers! tysm for enjoying my writing hehe. ive been thinking of this prompt for the past few days. anys enjoy <3 lmk if yall dig this kind of concept. did not proofread cuz im too lazy ig.

Whenever lost souls wander in the abyss, more often than not their questions pertain to one subject of interest.

What happens in purgatory?

It happens more than one can count—a series of experiences with those who have reached the end of the light, one can only deduce the general curiosity of humanity with the realm that keeps the heavens and the underworld in balance.

What is purgatory? While humans believe it to be a place of penance and purification, one would like to think of it as a place of sorting. A waiting room if one would find it amusing enough to resort in humor.

At least to Ominis anyway.

Ominis considers himself to be knowledgeable enough of the inner workings of the realms. He, after all, is one of the honored beings who got to work closely with the Lord. He proudly can say that he's done a lot for the glory of his creator to know things beyond what a normal being can perceive. He's a protector of the light and life that Yahweh brings.

However, there are still things he can't help but be curious about—like the cycle of good and evil with humans. Despite countless tries and efforts to save them from damnation, humanity still somehow finds itself on the brink of chaos. Despite that, their perceptions of the unknown continue to become more and more entertaining by the day.

Another is their perceptions of heaven and hell. Their enigmatic portraits and artistic interpretations fuel their imaginative ideals, influenced values, and understanding of the heavenly principles. While Ominis truly admires their dedication and faith in creating an ethereal image of the divine, the contrasting imagery of perception and reality somehow prompts a chuckle from this old man's lips.

If they knew the changes of the worlds beyond them, they might just have to change everything they know about it.

For starters, suits are mandatory. Everyone wears it here. It's become a staple for simplicity and formality. There are of course no limits to styling it but the suit and tie are a must.

Second, there are no conflicts between demons and angels. Well at least now. After coming to a proper agreement between the creator and the fallen, a civilized community has been built. Each is filled with roles and duties fit to serve the balance of the universe.

Third, it is exactly what you think it is. Desks filled to the brim with paperwork, scritching of pen against paper, and chattering of workers here and there. Highgard has become a modern-day office. Ominis hates the coffee on the 10th floor.

The archangel has already surrendered himself to normalcy, adapting to a new era of management and control. While this does seem to be more simpler and adept compared to the olden days, he does miss the times when he could feel the holy aura of his spear strike through a fallen's heart. In today's context, that's considered murder.

Now what does this relate to purgatory? As mentioned before Ominis still has a lot of things to be curious about and one of them are the things that happen within the walls of the Middle Path.

Specifically, the overseers.

While yes, he is considered to be at the top of the hierarchy. The overseers seem to nullify the authority of those at the top. Only the creator seems to have control over them, otherwise, they're at most the next level of superiority to him.

("The Horsemen of the Apocalypse," His brother, Nier, had mentioned as he leaned against the counter—stirring a cup of coffee with a wooden stick. "He placed them there to keep the balance. It's a land for neither the dead nor the living–a middle ground. They're natural seeds of chaos, of course. It's innate for them to destroy worlds with life and what better way to keep them at bay than to place them in the neutral zone?"

"I see," Ominis hums, fingers tapping at the desk as he leans back against his seat. Nier glances at him before throwing the wooden stirrer in the trash.

"What's got you interested in the overseers, Omi?" The nickname prompts a curl of his lips. Count Nier to be sentimental. The raven-haired man sips quietly as he awaits his response.

"Nothing," He replies. "It's just that out of all the realms, they seem to be less affected by the change."

Nier chuckles, taking a few steps forward to place a caring hand on his shoulder. "It's a place for judgment. We have too much love for humans while the fallen are too detached. The overseers are driven from humanity, they understand them better.")

The words of his brother ring within the depths of his mind, each making a resounding echo as he walks across the white halls.

To tell you the truth, this sudden interest in the middle path was formed not so long ago. A chain of events that prompted a burst of interest from this heavenly figure.

These series of events had formed a routine. There were 3 important things that you need to take note of in this scene.

One, the hallway Ominis is currently on is a bridge from Highgard to the gateway to the Middle Path. It's mostly known to be a connector and pathway for demons, angels, and any heavenly figure with the right permit.

Two, at the end of every hall, is a vending machine that serves coffee. Now, vending machines are not scarce in their company services. In fact, there are at least 5 machines stationed in every building. So, Ominis is quite sure that MidPath has more than enough vending machines to serve a batch of souls.

Third, at exactly 3 PM in Midgardian Time, there are approximately only two figures seen roaming about the halls of the connector.

One is Ominis himself and two, you guessed it.

An overseer.

Ominis walks toward the vending machine, slipping in a few coins before punching in his desired coffee. He takes a breath and takes a look at his watch. Just then, as the shorthand strikes the 15th, he hears the familiar click and clack of heels against the marble tiles.

They're here.

He hears them clear and perfect. The rustling of clothes against one another, the brush of their hands against the fabric, and that same walking rhythm.

Click.

Clack.

Click.

Clack.

Count Ominis to be a little obsessed but you really can't help but be interested in such a being. Neither angel nor demon—a seed of humanity so pure to the core that one horseman can produce an apocalypse.

An event personified.

It wasn't even God that made them but a natural occurence to life.

How interesting.

He hears the click of their shoes stop beside him, waiting for the brewing of his coffee. There were a few beats of silence, and the only thing Ominis could hear at that moment was the thumping of his heart.

"Gabriel," The overseer greets him, placing their hands behind the small of their back as they wait for their turn.

"Conquest." He greets back. The seed chuckles and heaves a sigh before silence ensues once more.

Same two words. Same format. Repeated for God knows how long he's been doing this. He punches in a latte, wishing the coffee would drip slower but heaven services always work out no matter what and so he gets his cup of coffee within 20 seconds.

He grabs the cup, sidesteps to the left, and takes a sip. The overseer steps forth, punching in their regular. Iced Caramel Macchiatto. The order takes the same time. 20 seconds.

They take the cup with swift movement before turning and making their way back to their department.

Once again, Ominis stands in the deserted hallways–a cup of coffee in his hands and another same old conclusive deduction of one of the horsemen of the apocalypse.

Coffee is an angel's desperation and fuel for conquest.

Ominis doesn't know what to feel about demons.

Beings natural to the abyss—they represent everything opposite to that of life. They thrive in the concepts of darkness, both figuratively and literally. Ominis is well aware of the millenniums he endured seeing the dust of broken horns and seething snakes crumble under his spear. He, after all, has seen everything from the moment the Lord has gathered his army to rule his rightful claim over his creations.

However, there are times like this when he decides it's okay. Demons are okay.

"I think there's a prejudice against smaller horns," Amit grumbles as he spreads a thin sheet of mayonnaise on his bread. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips formed into a pout. Ominis curls his lips at the tone of his voice. "Mine are perfectly well-sized! I-I don't see why this should be a problem at all."

"You're making it a problem, that's the issue," Ominis hears Poppy chime from his left. Amit glares at her response. Poppy's feathers ruffle as she stretches them out, flapping her wings gently to ease the tension on her shoulders.

The three of them were currently in the communal room. The day was slow and there were not many souls to be bustling and carrying on about. Ominis considers days like these a blessing and it was also partially because it was nearing Sunday.

Amit reaches his free hand and touches the spike of his horns. "My mother gave me these horns. I just think people are jealous."

"You're right," Poppy chimes as she tilts her head to give him a mocking smile. "Amit is always right. Can we talk about something else now?"

"You're too mean for a Principality."

"You're too much of a loser for a fallen," Poppy retorts with a nonchalance that almost prompts a chuckle out of Ominis. The demon gasps in shock which the angel giggles at.

"Just because we're on break and one of you is my superior-" Sharp glare comes from Poppy. "-doesn't mean I won't reprimand you two," Ominis cuts forth their humorous conversation with a stern approach. Poppy pouts while Amit grumbles. Then the blonde contorts his face into a wistful look. "However, I'm in a good mood so I'll let it be."

"Oho!" Poppy grins as she scoots her chair closer to him. "You do look even more dashing today, Ominis. What's got you in a good mood, hm? Perhaps, a promotion from upstairs?"

It was actually because he was able to, yet again, interact with the overseer but no one has to know about that.

Amit, ever the inquisitive being that he is, leans forward with raised eyebrows. "Are you in for a promotion to be in the middle order? I hear things start to get weird in that division."

"That's because most of the higher-ups don't look like us," Poppy responds with a bite of her sandwich. Ominis nods with his eyes closed. "At least in the middle and low. Both divisions were made to be accepting to the human eye, most specifically the low order. Ascending that high reveals true nature. The same goes for your monarchs."

Amit hums at the knowledge. While Ominis truly wants the opportunity to serve Adonai directly, he does feel worried about seeing his true self when ascending into a powerful duty. He supposes being an Archangel is too perfect of a role for him to let go of.

"Nah, I don't think I'm that holistic yet," Ominis responds with a shrug of his shoulders. "I still have a lot to do as Adonai's blade."

Just as the conversation resumed its course at the prompt of his response, a pair of cold hands makes its way to his shoulders—the tip of its finger brushing ever so softly against the skin of his neck. Ominis shivers but he does not let it affect him. Although his jaw clenches at the arrival of whoever this is.

"And what of Adonai's blade?" The voice asks, cunning and cool. "Does he perhaps fancy a cup of coffee?"

The arrival alerts the low-ranking figures beside him, pursing their lips in silence as they stare at the figure behind him.

"Leviathan," Ominis announces his presence. The brunette-headed monarch smiles at his true name.

"Mm," The demon hums. He taps his finger against the collar of Ominis's coat. "As much as I like hearing that name off of your lips, I prefer being called Sebastian."

Ah. Yes. This is what Ominis means when he says he's not okay with Demons. When he misses the feeling of his heavenly spear darting through the backs of the fallen.

No offense to Amit. He's too wonderful to be a spawn of a monarch but beings like Sebastian are what he means when he's overcome by a terrible urge to fulfill his original purpose.

He's fought him before. Countless times actually. In the Great Wars of Light and Dark—the famed descent of the Son of Man into the world is tainted with the hands of the fallen. They were carefree and manipulated life freely in their own hands as if it were toys.

Levia–Sebastian, rather, had always been a figure in both the underworld and highgard. A figure of snakes that classified demons as a whole. He was an icon to many and a formidable foe to most. He was surely one of Ominis's favorite things to drive a spear through.

Unfortunately for him, demons never die. They only go back to either hell or earth. A never-ending cycle of death. He supposes this is why the Lord has agreed in a civil approach with the beings of the dark.

"He's surely thinking of ways to murder me, no?" Sebastian sighs dreamily as he sits on the empty chair to his right. Poppy hesitantly laughs while Amit falls silent at his superior. Sebastian then turns to the two.

"Principality," He nods to Poppy, "Comrade" Amit. "If I may, can I please have a few minutes to talk to dearest Ominis? I just have a few things to discuss with him with regards to a war brewing up north in Midgard."

He beams, like the ever-so-manipulative nature of his character. The two sigh, gathering their food before moving to another table, a few meters away from them. It's better to just follow through with a monarch like Sebastian. He somehow has the irritable charm that allows him to get anything that he wants. Ominis is not surprised if he receives another harassment ticket for just existing.

"Was it so important for you to disrupt my leisure time?" Ominis grumbles at him. Sebastian chuckles, placing his elbows on the metal surface of the table. He intertwines his hands and perches his chin on top of it.

"And here I thought you loved that dear little humanity of yours."

"Please," Ominis scoffs, crossing his left knee over his right. He crosses his arms over his chest. "The last thing you'd do is be desperate enough to ask someone like me for help. Disasters are your expertise. What do you want?"

Just like that, Ominis has him cornered. Not that Sebastian would mind that since this is what he originally came for in the first place. Those ruby eyes that seem to never leave the Archangel pairs with a devilish smile before sighing. "Am I ever so deceitful that you think I'm asking for help with a catch?"

"Yes." Ominis answers plainly.

The demon rolls his eyes. "Right sure". There are a few beats of silence before Sebastian speaks once more. "I came here to confirm something with you."

Ominis hums, not bothered to direct his full attention towards Sebastian. He learned enough that wasting his time and attention in believing uncivilized monarchs like Sebastian is just a fiasco waiting to happen. He tries to take some of it in but never really injects full effort to do what they want. After all, his job only entailed in keeping peace and order within the flow of time in the human realm. What demons do is out of the question.

Sebastian hums beside him before speaking. "Do they like tea?"

Ominis stiffens in his seat. "What?"

The demon grins at finally grasping the old man's attention. "I said do they like tea?"

"Who likes what?" The angel is beyond confused. Who?

"Oh come on, Riel," The nickname pops a vein on his forehead. The demon leans close to whisper. "I mean that friend of yours in the gateway."

Ominis finally tenses at the revelation. How the fuck did this guy manage to find out about that?! He subtly turns his face towards the sound of his voice. He doesn't find it in him to reply as the demon prompts a few chuckles from his lips.

"I'm quite excited to be meeting them next time," Sebastian lets out a grunt as he stretches up from his seat and finally stands. He places his hands inside the pockets of his slacks, smiling down at the tense Archangel. "15th of the hour, right?"

"You're insufferable," Ominis grumbles under his breath as the man laughs at his demise.

"You're not the only one interested, Ominis." Sebastian smirks before turning and making way to the exit of the communal room. The clacking of his shoes do not produce the same satisfaction as the seed of Conquest.

He let's out a groan as he indefinitely will have to deal with Sebastian later on. His little interactions with them had been his highlights of the week. Not everyone can have the opportunity to come across a horseman of the apocalypse. Sebastian had to go ruin his little moments of peace.

How can his day get any better?

Ominis is exactly 10 mins earlier than the designated time.

The hallway is deserted and the air conditioning is functioning at its highest. It's safe to say that he's been paranoid ever since Sebastian had made his interest in one of the seeds of chaos. He doesn't know how exactly he knew but he wasn't going to take any chances in allowing him to steal his spot.

Even though the aftermath of 5 lattes a week proves to be quite detrimental to the linings of his stomach.

It's fine. He's immortal anyway.

He swings back and forth on his heels as he waits for the clock to strike the 3rd. He's not sure why he's more nervous today and only hopes that maybe it's because of the damn lemonades Amit brought this morning because her mother had made too much. Bless her soul.

He sees the shorthand of his watch finally strike the 15th hour of the day before he hears the same click-clacking of heels against the tile floor. At the prompt of their arrival, he immediately brings out a couple of his spare coins and begins punching in his latte. He waits, hands tucked in his slacks, at the familiar greeting of their voice.

However, things seems to be way different today.

"Ah, so it's more of your role to be the judge, right?" An all too familiar voice disrupts him off his reprieve. He tenses at the added presence. "Where to place the souls and all that."

"Yes," Conquest hums, a bit detached but their interest in the conversation is there. "I allow passage based on their time of living. The same goes for my siblings."

Ominis's jaw clenches as he hears the fake facade of gasps of interests and the unrhythmic pattern of another's footsteps. Sebastian.

"That's so interesting-!"

"What are you doing here, Sebastian?" Ominis grits under his breath as the pair finally reach his vicinity. Sebastian smirks at the presence of the Archangel.

"Ah, I just passed by Midpath to pass some documents and caught Y/N over here walking towards the gateway," Sebastian coolly responds as he glances at them with a smile. "It's not every day you'd get to talk to a seed outside of their workspace. Your department is the busiest after all."

If he hated Sebastian before, he hates him even more now.

"Ah yes, Leviathan was kind enough to keep me company," Conquest responds. If they were both alone right now, he would've collapsed. This is the most he's talked to them and he can't even handle it on his own. What a joke.

"Please! Just Sebastian is fine," The demon chimes in with a gleeful tone. "Are you well acquainted with Gabriel?"

Ominis is not sure what Sebastian is planning but the demon sure as hell is enjoying this little charade.

"Mhm," Ominis answers for them. "W-We always get coffee here."

"Ah," Sebastian nods. "How adorable. Must be honorable for you, hm? Keeping this little interaction for yourself."

There's something in his tone that seethes at him—buried under layers and layers of fake smiles and enthusiasm. Ominis wants to strangle him but he has to keep up with the expression. After all, despite ruining his moment, this is the most he's spoke to Y/N—he can call them Y/N right?

"Right," Sebastian seems to have read his thoughts. "This is Y/N. Have I mentioned that?"

"Clearly," Ominis grits his teeth. The seed of conquest, ignorant of the tension between two side steps to reach the vending machine. They notice the finished latte siting lonely, perched on top of its container.

"Ominis." They call for his attention. The blonde's breath shifts. Oh Heavens, they said my name. He knows he shouldn't panic or else that would look weird and so he awkwardly turns towards her with a tense look on his face.

Y/N only stares at him with vague interest before grabbing his hand and gently placing the cup of coffee in his grasp. "Your latte," They say.

"T-Thank you." He speaks as if that's the first time he's ever held hands with a handsome person. Y/N then turns to punch in their order, opting for a hot option instead of their usual cold beverage.

Without speaking the duo watch as they tilt their head back with mild interest, waiting for their coffee, hears the familiar ding of the machine, grab their order—gives not one of them a glance and only makes way back to their department.

There's a few beats of silence—the only background noise being the whirling of the air conditioner from the vents. They're both oddly entranced by what just happened.

Sebastian shifts in his position as he turns slowly towards Ominis with a slightly curled up smile.

"Is it normal to be this turned on?"

"You're fucking weird."

Ominis doesn't know what's happening.

There's this weird competitive aura between him and Sebastian ever since that altercation last week and it's as if who can interact the most with Y/N had been set as a competition between the two of them.

He's not really the one to complain since his pride enjoyed the stakes of a competition. However, his dignity has doubled down and screeched and clawed at his mind—begging for this to be done and over with.

He admits. He might have been a little too interested in the seed of conquest but that's what he wanted it to stay as! It was already good enough for him that he was able to interact with them on a weekly basis but now, he's not so sure if he can back out of this one.

Sebastian had been a bit too overwhelming in his efforts to gain their attention. From Underworld cuisine to Highgard flowers and even Midgardian music. He's done it all. The bastard is a monarch after all and so his pay is a little bit higher than his but who cares about that?! Ominis thinks he's utterly unfair in trying to squeeze his way through his and Y/N's leisure time of getting coffee.

He too... has tried several ways to... Y'know. To just keep with the nature of competition. He comes out of his breaks a little early so he can actually try and catch up with them for a walk. Made them sweets here and there. Made sure he was done with his work so he can assist in helping out with Y/N's paperwork. If it's not much obvious—Yes, Ominis is very competitive.

The unspoken attention war had stretched out over the course of the next few weeks. A few co-workers had begun to notice Ominis and Sebastian's odd behavior. It was odd enough that a monarch is lounging in Highgard departments but no one really gave a fuck enough to care.

(Unless it's Imelda, Poppy, and Amit.

"Is the coffee in the gateway really that great? Or do they just have a fucked up death wish of a diarrhea for ordering at least 10 cups of coffee a week?" Imelda grumbles from her spot at one of the tables in the communal room as the three had full-on front seats to Ominis and Sebastian pushing each other and racing for the double doors.

Poppy sighs beside her. The Principality had also noticed the suspiciously efficient work of Ominis. While the Archangel was organized and efficient enough to accomplish his work on time, the speed of doing such works even if it was weeks away on the assigned deadline was far too suspicious.

"They say they're pining over a married Dominions officer," Amit chimes in from his eating galore of glazed donuts. Imelda glances at her co-worker with a crunch of her nose.

"If you were human, that would've already killed you."

"I could possess one if you want?" Amit jokes to which the two angels snap their heads to glare at him. "Right, my bad.")

"They like tulips more than whatever that is." Sebastian grumbles as he assesses the disarray of sunflowers, roses, and whatever Ominis picked up from Midgard. The blonde rolls his eyes at his quips.

"As if giving them tea was enough," Ominis seethes. "I'd have you know that they actually dislikes tea—especially chamomile."

"You sure do know everything, huh?" Sebastian retorts as he takes a step forward. "If I remember correctly, It was because of me that you were given an opportunity to talk to them in the first place."

Ominis scoffs. "Oh, get off your high horse. I would've talked to them either way!"

"You'd take millennia to even do that," Sebastian chuckles, tone mocking and sarcastic.

"Says who?"

"Says me," Sebastian raises his eyebrows, taunting him. "You couldn't even put a spear through my heart if it hit you right in the face."

Ominis tenses. "What nonsense—!"

"Blah blah!" Sebastian taunts like a child. If anyone were to see both of them, they would surely have a field day in the office. A monarch and an Archangel fighting over someone. What a gossip. "I know you always miss the shot. Always a centimeter off, an inch short, a few limbs past—You're too soft. Even for someone like me."

Ominis breath hitches at the revelation. It's true that among all the Archangels, He was considered to be the most accurate out of all of them. That's why he preferred long-range fights, hitting enemies with his spear through a distance. But Sebastian is Ominis's first short-range duel and he's always been meant to fight Ominis after that. Somehow, he always manages to fail killing him, allowing a millennia's worth of suffering because of it.

His brothers would give him comfort and reassurance that someday, he'd be able to strike him off. However, despite countless opportunities, he's managed to fail every single one. He doesn't have the heart in him to admit that he's purposely missing the target because who would believe an Angel having mercy over a fallen?

He has too much pride to admit that.

Somehow over the long silence emitted from Ominis's lack of response, a cough alerts them of a new presence. The two turn around to meet Y/N, standing ever so casually behind them.

"Are you two done?" Y/N tilts their head, eyes half-lidded and a cigarette hanging off their lips. They take a short and swift inhale before pulling the stick from their lips and blowing it towards the two.

The smoke causes them to flinch back and cough. The seed of Conquest takes this opportunity to breeze through and punch in their order from the vending machine.

"Y'know, for a couple of idiots, you two sure are dense as hell," Y/N chuckles as they tilt their head to the side—glancing at them with a smile. They extend their hand holding the cigarette, tapping it towards the trash can situated near the machine. They eye him with vague interest. "A millennia. A fucking millennia—Not even one but a couple actually—" Y/N takes a hit of the cigarette. "That's amazing."

The seed of Conquest blows another whiff of the stick and this time, the duo are prepared at the scent of the chemicals.

"I-I'm sorry, what are you talking about?" Ominis asks, pressing his need for clarification. Sebastian remains silent beside him.

Y/N grins underneath the fingers that snugly carry the stick between their lips. "You two."

"Us?" Sebastian raises an eyebrow.

"You seriously never thought about this? Y/N raises an amused eyebrow. The silence after confirms their thought which prompts a gleeful giggle from their lips.

Sebastian and Ominis take a pause to revel in the beauty of their laughter.

The seed of conquest then takes a step forth and gingerly presses an index finger against Sebastian's chest, "You keep finding him," Then Ominis, "You keep avoiding the inevitable," They then take a step back, taking a whiff of the cigarette before exhaling. "Doesn't it ring a bell, hm?"

It takes at least 25 seconds for the two to come to a realization. Both take it quite differently. Ominis pales while Sebastian flushes. Y/N thinks the colors contrast quite beautifully.

"How adorable," They coo before the machine finally beeps. They take their coffee with ease and take a few steps towards the two fumbling idiots. They lean close, whispering into their ears in the space between them. "Next time you two try and disrupt my work hours, I'll have you know that I can purposefully trap you in a never-ending time loop of a prison. Got that?"

The two nod carefully at their words before Y/N smiles and pats their shoulders. They make quick steps back towards their department before suddenly pausing and turning quickly with a smile.

"Also, you're both wrong," Y/N sighs as they tuck their hands inside the pockets of their coat. "I prefer Baby's-breath and milktea is my preferred choice of drink. 50% sugar with boba."

The two gape at her information. They tilt their head with a smirk, strands of hair falling ever so perfectly against their face.

"Do it right and maybe I'll agree to be taken by the two of you on a date."

And just as she says it, she leaves with the elegance and swiftness of a heavenly figure. The two couldn't even sneak a word in with what just happened, only grasping their gifts apologetically within their hands. In just a matter of a few minutes, Y/N has yet again made them speechless.

Not that the two of them would complain. There's just something about them that just leaves a breath of awe whenever Ominis and Sebastian get a chance to interact with the seed of Conquest.

Sebastian turns toward the Ominis who licks his lips in thought. "They did just say both right?"'

"Yes, Sebastian. They did."

"Are you in love with me?"

"I—"

"I think I'm in love with you," Sebastian hums, thoughtfully as if he's taking a pick which menu he'll be eating for lunch today. "I think maybe I am."

It's times like this that Ominis thinks that demons are insufferable. But then that's their charm, no? Having the ability to continuously infuriate you despite the circumstance. Ominis thinks that maybe he can try to live with that. After all, a couple of millennia with Sebastian had already been proven to be quite a taxing experience—what more a couple more years could do?

If Ominis could answer the questions of the lost souls that venture their interests in the realms beyond them, there's one thing he could definitely answer.

That demons are pricks and also can be the love of your life (you just maybe haven't noticed it yet because you're too busy driving a spear through his heart!), there's a hot overseer he can't stop thinking of, and that angels can also have gay panics.

How livid would humans be when they find out about this?

Well, I guess we'll never know.

A/N: yieeee im 20 now!! HBD TO ME!! (my bday was on the 4th, I was just too busy to post this) I hope y'all enjoyed this! Will consider doing a part two for this baby (NSFW if it has good views teehee) lmk!! love y'all!

[sanest-bsd-delegate]

𝗥𝗲𝗷𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲

Oneshot: Even after rejection, you still loved him. Genre: angst, 0.00001% fluff A/N: Cries x 100 [first time writing angst hum? idk] →Masterlist

Even after rejection, you still loved him.

It had been months since you last saw him, since that painful day when he walked away from your life without a second glance. Dazai Osamu, the enigmatic and tormented soul, had captured your heart in a way you never thought possible.

His charisma, his complexities, and the darkness that seemed to shroud him had drawn you in, intertwining your fate with his in a way that was both beautiful and tragic. But he left, left you without thinking his departure wouldn't hurt people, that no person would weep once he leave the mafia. Was he really this cruel to leave an organisation just because his friend got killed? You didn't know, because for once your favourite person didn't take you as his favourite.

And it was okay, everyone went through this phase they said, but god who knew teenage love hit this hard? He was your first love, and the only person who you would ever love.

But the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, the pain of his absence had become a constant ache that gnawed at your heart. You loved him, you truly did, and not seeing him made you remind of him even more. Its not like you had any photos with him anyways. You couldn't escape the memories that haunted you—the stolen moments, the shared laughter, and the whispered promises that had once filled your days with joy.

Everywhere you looked, there was a reminder of him—a book on your shelf that he recommended, a bar where you would hangout, a sunset that mirrored the warmth of his smile. You couldn't escape his ghost, and it felt like he had taken a piece of you with him when he left.

You tried to move on, to fill the void he left behind with new experiences and new people, but every attempt felt hollow and forced. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake the feeling that your heart still belonged to him, locked in a state of perpetual longing. The mafia reminded you of him, and the mafia was your home

As much as you loved him, you couldn't possibly leave people who cared for you.

Who would be there for Akutagawa when he comes beaten and bruised, refusing to heal while you make him sit and heal his wounds?

Who would be their for Chuuya when he overdrinks and no one cares to sober him up?

Who would be their Gin when she needs help tying her hair?

Emotions and feelings shouldn't intervene, it was something only few could achieve, it was something he couldn't achieve.

The weight of your confession felt both liberating and suffocating. Did he leave because of you? No, Dazai didn't value what people felt, yet you found yourself to blame. It was a plea to the universe, a desperate hope that somehow, someday, you would find a way to move forward without abandoning the love you held for him. Teenage love.

Days turned into years, and the seasons continued their unrelenting march. And then, one day, as you were lost in the pages of a book he had recommended, you felt a presence—a familiar warmth that brushed against your soul. You looked up, heart racing, and there he was.

You had learned to live without him. Unlike him you had reasons to live. You didn't know why grudge against him, But as a Adult looking at the past, you find yourself concerning over the obsessed you had in teen years over a man who never valued you.

Dazai stood before you, his gaze filled with a mixture of longing and regret. He had come back, drawn to you as if an invisible thread still connected your hearts. Without a word, he took a step closer, as if he feared that any sound would shatter the fragile moment.

But seeing him after years made you realise, you never really moved on from him. And there he stood, taller, his aesthetic completely different from the one he had in port mafia but he still looked good. He always looked good.

"Y/N L/N," he finally whispered, his voice hinting the weight of a thousand unspoken apologies.

You didn't need that, he never noticed you, why is he noticing you now? He could have walked out of the bookstore, with whatever book he held between those fingers. He should have walked away, spend his time charming women, not you and yet you panicked the moment he got close to you, the hidden feelings re-emerging.

Half of you, your thoughts mentally face palmed at yourself, as you looked at him, realizing that the love you had held onto was not in vain. It was a love that had survived distance and time, a love that had brought him back to you.

"Why are you here," you asked, your voice steady despite the overwhelming emotions. "Go away, the port Mafia has nothing to do with likings of you"

Would it be different if Chuuya was here? Guess today you both will overdrink and drown in emotions again.

Dazai reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your hands, and for the first time in years, you felt his touch again.

You still flinch at the gentle touch, his eyes boring into yours before you moved away from him, towards the counter to pay for the book you held, something you wished to read years ago, even if he was the one to recommend you.

"That would be 500 yen ma'am" The woman at the counter said as she handed you the book in a paper bag, along with some stickers which were free on that book purchase.

Dazai's shadow hovered over you as he placed the book at the counter, the woman who's eye were glued to you shifted to him, "Is this gentleman with you ma'am?"

"Him?," You looked back, his eyes into yours, brownish black on e/c before you look at the woman, "Oh him? I don't know this man"

In times like this, it's best to leave. So, you did, walking away from the once known man in the dimly lit street, finding comfort in the city's crowd, you disappearing from view not turning back, as the brown eyes who watched your figure disappear in the crowds stood outside the bookstore all alone.

[icyminghao]

bf!jihoon thoughts

pairing: jihoon x gn!reader genre: fluff word count: 0.46k warning(s): none

requested by @slyvery: Hey lovely❤️ I just wanna say that I'm soooo in love with your stories is so perfect and cute and makes my heart so warm, so when you have time can I ask for a bf!woozi thoughts, please🥺❤️

thinking about bf!jihoon who has a soft smile on his face every time he looks at you. he’s so inspired by you and anything you do, and it’s a no-brainer that he has a hidden folder full of songs about you. he’s not really verbal with his affections for you (he’s trying his best!), so he expresses his love for you in the one way he’s the best at, which is through music. gets so happy when you ask him if he can help you save the songs he wrote for you on your phone. probably makes a mixtape for you so you can always listen to it.

bf!jihoon who gets shy when you initiate any sort of physical contact with him early on into the relationship. his faces gets so red and you’ll not be able to get a single word out of him (he’s soo shy). but after he’s gotten more comfortable, he’d be the one grabbing your hand and playing with it absentmindedly, leaning his head onto your shoulder and kissing your temple as and when he likes to, even in front of the members.

bf!jihoon who always lets you have anything you want. he needs a haircut? he’s asking you what style you prefer to have his hair in (even though you always tell him he can do whatever he wants, he just values your opinion so much). you want him to let you listen to a new unreleased song he recently made? he’s letting you listen to it immediately despite it not being allowed (what his baby wants, his baby gets)

bf!jihoon who gets clingy when he’s tired. if you went to visit him in the universe factory when he’s really worn out, he’d be all over you the moment you step into the studio, pulling you to the couch and falling on top of you immediately. he derives so much comfort and energy from your presence and can’t get enough of it, especially when he’s tired.

bf!jihoon who always has one leg draped over you when sleeping. you can’t get rid of his death grip on you no matter how hard you try (he’d just grumble and hold you tighter against him if you resisted) even if you had to go to the bathroom.

bf!jihoon who’s probably the little spoon when you’re cuddling. he absolutely loves being in your arms and feels so safe and protected every time he is. loves laying on your lap and having you run your fingers through his hair, too (falls asleep so fast when you do that it’s embarrassing)

bf!jihoon who loves indulging in your hobbies with you. it doesn’t matter if he’s really bad at it or has no experience whatsoever, you’re just happy he’s there with you and he’s happy you’re happy.

a/n: here’s jihoon as a boyfriend! i got all soft writing this he’s such a grumpy outside soft inside kind of boyfie i’m sobbing

masterlist

[eve-to-adam]

I LOVE your art, especially as a fellow (albeit amateur) artist who’s OBSESSED with the whole Wars of the Roses period rn. In that vein, I was wondering if you had any advice/good resources as to researching fashion for character design reasons? Thanks!

Hello! :)

I'm excited to hear about other people - especially artists - interested in the Wars of the Roses era! I know that nice feeling - that thrill of excitement you get when you try to create something like this. It seems sublime to me! <333333

I don't know exactly if you want my advice and recommendations to be general or strictly about WOTR and implicitly the Middle Ages, but I will focus on the second option, because the process is the same.

Before starting, I want to specify that this is strictly my approach and that there are multiple ways to achieve the same result, as long as they make you feel comfortable.

My first advice would be this: try to be sure what exactly you want to illustrate. Although sometimes indecision can lead to unexpectedly positive results, most of the time it can cause your characters/illustrations to lack substance, which is caused by a lack of consistency. It's one thing to create a complex character and completely different to end up with an inconsistent one. What I want to say is that you have to make sure that you draw some specific barriers in order to obtain an optimal result. Try to figure out your character's personality before you dress them - don't forget that clothes are as important a component in character development as the details regarding interests/ambitions/favorite food, etc. Depending on the status, the concerns of your character and the context in which they are, you can deliberate the shape and color of the outfits. Taking into account these aspects, you allow yourself to deliberate: what kind of outfit would X wear? Does it match their personality? Is it having the desired impact? Shape, length, pattern? What about the colors? Are they expressive enough to give us a clue about the state of our character? What do we want to express through that outfit?

My second advice: Be creative! Use the resources you have to create the most original outfits. Of course, here it depends on how you approach the problem - you can recreate outfits up to 100% if you want to make a study or your own artistic documentation, but I, personally, put more value on originality.

For example - and this is a purely personal approach, not a standard to follow, because each of us wants to experiment and express things differently - when I create outfits, I tend to take elements from different pictures and combine them in this way so as to result in a completely new outfit. (There are times when an entire outfit takes shape in my mind just by looking at a pair of sleeves, or there are times when I sketch the entire outfit and have to search the entire internet for a suitable collar for this type of outfit. Or, I simply realized in the middle of the process that my character would not seem like the type of person to wear such a robe). Of course, considering the process, you have artistic freedom, so you can afford to illustrate totally original elements.

At the same time, try to give credibility to the character. Above we were talking about the substance. Well, one of the rules of character design is world-building. Many works of animation or comics with the fantasy genre contain elements inspired by the Middle Ages, and this is because the stories always have their origin in reality. Your character is only a part of a larger whole called the Universe. Depending on the genre of your story, the character must be an integral part of it, so you must take care of the particularities. If the narrative takes place in 1450, your character must have an appearance corresponding to the respective times. If the character serves in the army, we show them in the uniform specific to the period imposed by us; we also take care to give it a certain rigidity, hardness. If it's a detective, we introduce distinct elements such as the coat and hat, etc. Of course, speaking of fiction, we allow ourselves certain liberties for the sake of design.

Although during my university studies I was told to keep the character design as simple as possible, I chose not to follow this advice, lol. Because simplicity does not characterize me. The reason I'm bringing this up is BECAUSE if you're not familiar with the details/ haven't mastered the approach yet, it would really be advisable to keep the character design as simple as possible. Here is the reason: Originality. Particularity. When you create your character, especially if there is a long line of characters in the background, you must take into account the fact that the viewer must be able to tell them apart. Try to give each of them one or more distinctive signs, which can mean practically anything - a mustache, a mole, a longer neck, a special body shape, a patch on the eye, a more atypical hairstyle. I will not say that this aspect can necessarily be achieved through clothes. Here's the reason - imagine that your character is 5 m away from you and is looking at you. Under all those layers of clothing, how can you tell for sure who it is without that distinctive mark? Your character must be unique, it needs to stand out with something. Your character must be recognized by the public, even from a distance.

The rest depends on your tastes and your personal approach.

When I start working on an outfit, the first thing I think about is: what can I do and what can't I do? Did the clothing item I'm thinking of really existed or is it just a product of my imagination?

In most cases, I turn to the illuminations from manuscripts, tapestries, illustrations, portraits, paintings, etc., because absolutely nothing is more delightful than consulting the source directly.

Manuscripts that I have used over time in my creative process:

BnF Français 599 (De mulieribus claris).

Compilation arthurienne de Micheau Gonnot. Gautier Map, La Queste del Saint-Graal, La Mort le roi Artu.

Français 995.

BNF Fr874 (Héroïdes d'Ovide).

Croniques abregies commençans au temps de Herode Antipas, persecuteur de la chrestienté, et finissant l'an de grace mil IIc et LXXVI.

Paintings. You can use them to search for other such examples on the Internet:

Cornelis Engelbrechtsz - Konstantin & Helena.

Hans Holbein - Virgin with Child.

Hans Memling - Altarpiece with Virgin and Child, Jan de Witte and his wife.

Hans Memling - Maria Portinari.

Eliseo Sala, Malinconia o Pia de' Tolomei.

Antoni Peris - Altarpiece of the Life of Virgin - Altarpiece of the Nursing Madonna.

Filippo Lippi - Portrait of a Woman with a Man at a Casement.

Simon Marmion - Exterior of St. Bertin Altarpiece Wings. 1459.

These books may also help you. I chose the ones that also contain illustrations:

Herbert Norris – Medieval costume and Fashion.

Kathy Elgin – Costume & Fashion. Source Books.

Mary G. Houston – Medieval costume in England and France. The 13th, 14th and 15th centuries.

Francis Grew, Margrethe de Neergaard – Shoes and Pattens.

Talbot Hughes – Dress design.

I hope my answer was helpful! :)

[linkspooky]

What do you think of Sora Siruha character? Before this chapter, i thought Ishida seems wants us to think of her character as a tragic hero and a character that is fallen after leaving yamato mori, but then he drop a chapter where she committed genocide when she was still in yamato mori, so i wonder what do you think of her character?

Sora Siruha is an interesting character because Nietzsche would have hated her. Yet she's still seen as morally ambiguous by both characters in her own story and members of the audience. Not that you're wrong to see her that way but Nietzsche sure did hate it was religion. So, perhaps the literal nun, with angel wings, with cross tattoos, and a black halo that doubles as a crown or thorns might be a bad guy in the Nietzsche manga.

That's not to say that she's irredeemably evil, it's just ironic the Choujin X of her generation named after the "ubermensch" represents the antithesis of a lot of Nietzsche's ideas.

Nietzsche famously called Religion the opium of the masses. in Nietzsche's view suffering was not only good but necessary to life, because it aspired people to grow and anything that promised avoidance of suffering alcohol and religion for instance stagnated growth instead of promoting it.

Religious suffering is at the same time an expression of real suffering and a protest against real suffering. Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the sentiment of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.

So, it's not coincidence in the Nietzsche manga that Sora who has so many religious associations tied to her is also, an opium addict who cannot survive without it's pain numbing effects.

If by Nietzschian philosophy pain is a part of the human experience, then by losing her pain, Sora Siruha also lost her humanity which is heavily implied to be part of the cause of her mental spiral.

One other thing associated with Sora is that she uses what are primarily utilitarian views to justify her atrocities - something else that Nietzsche hated as a philosophy.

So Sora believing that her future visions will come to pass goes on to committ atrocities in order to avoid even greater atrocities. Let's say that her visions are in fact one hundred percent correct. That Sora killing 200,000 people would avert the deaths of 2,000,000 or more.

Sora's reasoning in this case is purely utilitarian.

Utilitarianism actions are morally permissible if: They produce at least as much or more net happiness as any other available action. Everything should strive for a balance of happiness over suffering.

By Utilitarian reasoning her actions are morally permissible. Sora herself does not want to kill Anitise, she takes no joy in it, but she believes like any utilitarian she's responsible for bringing the most happiness over suffering to the world.

However, even if Sora's vision was 100% correct and by pulling the lever on the trolley problem and killing 200,000 she saved 2,000,000 Nietzsche would still have a bone to pick with her moral reasoning.

Nietzsche famously hated Utilitarianism. because it ignore the value of suffering, which strengthens the man. He saw that doing every and all actions for the sake of the "greater good" was something that denied the individual and discouraged individual development.

Nietzsche's criticism is that value is not something that can be quantified or proven. You can't mathematically measure in an objective sense, the suffering caused by your actions, the benefits caused by your actions. There's no universally agreed upon value for human life.

What is the "unit" of one human life?

Why are the 2,000,000 people that Sora saved more worthy of life than the 200,000 that she killed. What justification can Sora have other than "that's a smaller number." A person among the 200,000 killed could have grown up to cure cancer. Of course, even if the 200,000 weren't especially talented people, even if they were all going to grow up to work at mcdonalds why are there lives inherently worth less than the 2,000,000 that sora decided to save?

Sora is not a nihilist, she is a pure-hearted utilitarian who's actions are taken to give pleasure to as many people as possible but one more obvious criticism of her moral reasoning in choosing to sacrifice the few to save the many is that she is not an unbiased judge of values.

For example, if Anitise really did become a mad king then who would his victims have been? If he invaded Yamato Mori and killed 2,000,000 then why are the 2,000,000 lives of the Yamato Mori citizens he killed worth more than the 200,000 people that Sora killed preventing his invasion? It would be because being a citizen of and responsible for Yamato Mori Sora is unconsciously biased to put her own nation above Anitise's kingdom. In that sense, she's not really acting for the greater good, but rather the national interests of her country but she's still posing herself as a savior figure.

Sora goes on to commit these atrocities, while also continuing to see herself as a savior and believing she's operating from a higher moral viewpoint than everyone else. Yet, you can easily point out where her biases are as I just did.

In addition to the fact that we have no way of knowing if Sora's visions of the future actually are true. The fact that there are two people with future seeing powers (three if you count Tokio's dreams) who can see different things then points to the fact that Sora's visions aren't 100% true. However, even if you give her the benefit of the doubt that her prophecies were going to come true if she didn't do something, you can still make moral arguments against her actions as I just did above this section.

Sora is also extremely biased in other ways. In her origin story, she saw a vision of Queem coming to burn her convent, and was unable to stop it from happening. This clearly has affected her for all of her life, as even when presented with direct evidence that her prophetic dreams might not be true (such as another seer who disagrees with her) Sora doesn't even consider that possibility or hesitate to commit atrocities, because she's still guided by her guilt over being unable to stop her convent from being burnt.

In Tokyo Ghoul, Yoshimura once theorizes that Ghouls and Humans are psychologically the same, but because Ghouls live violent lives they eventually lose their empathy and stop seeing any value in human life as a coping mechanism.

I think Sora's slow corruption makes sense through this lens, not because of her future visions but rather because of the amount of power she had.

Choujin e aren't any different from human psychologically, they experience human emotions, but convince themselves they are different because one they're prone to get in more violent situations, and two the power they wield leads to them developing superiority complexes.

Sora plunged herself into war and had to walk on too many corpses in order to get stronger and gain the strength to fight Queem, but it's clear she didn't stop there after Queem was defeated. After Queem died Sora became the war-monger, and why? Her visions provide us one reason, but like, Sora didn't consider alternative means like diplomacy or warning anitise of what she saw? She just jumped straight to launching a modern day crusade against a foreign country, why?

Was it just easier for her to consider a military invasion because after having been through the hell of war, 200,000 became just another statistic to her?

What other reason than she had the power to do so, and Sora's superiority complex told her she had the right to wield that power however she chose to do so.

Sora and her savior complex, provides an uncanny mirror to Queem and his choujin and his choujin supremacy doctrine. Sora may have believed herself invading Antoland in order to prevent a future disaster, but when has a foreign country invading a soveriegn territory "for their own good' ever historically been a good thing. Sora may not have preached choujin supremacy but her actions don't make her too much different from Queem in the end.

Then, there's the possibility that Sora's prophecies might not even be nearly as true or certain to happen as they think they are. One of the birds basically spells it out to Tokio, that humans wanting to know the future is just wishful thinking.

Which puts Sora's absolute certainty in a new light. Is Sora's beliefs in her prophecies just a longing for control, the kind of absolute control over the future that nobody in the world but god is supposed to possess. Sora wanting to take God's place in knowing the future and being able to control her destiny goes all kinds of wrong.

I'm reminded of Attack on Titan where Eren coming into contact with the paths and being able to see the past, present and future at the same time doesn't give him godlike power, but reduces him to a helpless child. Eren's ability to see the future ends up bringing into existence similiarly to Sora, a future where he's the one comitting the atrocities.

There's also Paul Atreides from Dune who is given the power to see the future, and despite knowing and feeling guilt for a long time that some of his actions might lead to him releasing a holy war against the galaxy and killing billion, goes on to follow the future timeline he saw where he caused those atrocities anyway.

The absolute godlike power to know the future for all three of these characters Sora, Eren and Paul actually leads to them committing atrocities, not averting them as they'd hoped.

Yet, there's the tragic element of the fact she was just sixteen when this destiny was thrust upon her.

In Tokyo Ghoul Eto once referred togod as a child with extraordinary power to justify the world being as messed up as it is. Doesn't this fit Sora Shihouin as well? A child given way too much power and suddenly thrust into a leadership position?

In that way Sora reminds me tragically of X-Men characters like Jean Grey, if someone is given the power to see the future, or the insane powers of the phoenix that Jean Grey was given would they really have the moral fiber not to abuse that power? Can anyone wield that much power and not be corrupted by it?

[reverieparacosm]

Headcanons what it would be like to be in a relationship with Sauron

Sauron x GN!Reader

Warnings: manipulative behavior, toxic relationship, abuse, kidnapping, mention of torture, gaslighting, possessive behaviors, yandere behavior, mentioned death of loved ones, angst

Note: This man lives in my head rent free. These Headcanons are dark and not for everyone!

A relationship with Sauron would be a treacherous journey

He is one of the most powerful and sinister figure in the Lord of the Rings universe, and such a relationship would involve a give-and-take of power that could never be equal

Sauron’s goal is world domination, and he seeks to control those in his inner circle. His dark power is intimidating and overwhelming, and those who associate with him are likely to become corrupted and seduced by his strength

This type of relationship could bring about extreme highs and lows, from moments of immense power and pleasure to moments of despair and regret

"I want that side of you that you don't show to anyone else"

Despite Sauron’s powerful hold on those in his inner circle, it would be virtually impossible to sustain a true, healthy, and fulfilling relationship with such a dark and powerful figure

He would be possessive and jealous, viewing any time his partner might spend with others as a threat to his control

Being in a toxic relationship with Sauron would be a dark and miserable experience

Sauron is a manipulative force, one who would use fear and intimidation to control you

He would try to manipulate and control your thoughts, feelings, and actions, creating an atmosphere of dread and oppression

"Stop being so complicated. You know that you love me"

You would be constantly under his watchful eye, unable to escape his suffocating grip

The relationship would be filled with emotional abuse, manipulation, and intimidation

Sauron's anger and temper would always be present, and any attempts to stand up for yourself or challenge him would only be met with further abuse

"Keep acting like that and you will regret it, darling"

He would always be trying to break you down and control you, leading to a feeling of constant confusion and helplessness

Even after the relationship ended, you would still be haunted by the memory of Sauron's dark presence

He is a force of destruction and chaos, and he has no care or love for anyone or anything - he is only concerned with his own ambitions

He will use manipulation, fear, and even violence to get people to do his bidding

If you were to enter a relationship with him, it would be a dangerous one in which you could become his puppet, used to further his goals without your own consent. You would also be at risk of getting hurt or even killed by his minions or by Sauron himself

He would be far more concerned with having power over a partner than loving them

Just imagine his hands on the back of your neck, moving slowly, whispering in your ear, "You are mine"

He also does not value emotional intimacy or openness, and would try to remain in control and maintain his image as a powerful leader

Don't try to escape him. It would have terrible consequences

If a partner attempted to escape Sauron's grasp, they would likely face harsh punishment

This could include physical torture, imprisonment, or even death

Punishment for disobedience against Sauron would likely depend on the severity and nature of the disobedience. For minor offenses, such as failing to follow orders, Sauron would likely use intimidation and fear tactics, such threatening them with violence. In more serious cases, such as open defiance or attempted betrayal, Sauron would likely resort to more extreme punishments, such as torture

As a master of dark magic, Sauron could also use powerful spells to mentally and emotionally torture the disobedient

Sauron's prisons exist in a state of constant darkness, only lit by the occasional fires burning within the dungeons. The air is thick with tension, and the cells are often filled with the piercing cries of the other prisoners. To face the Dark Lord himself is said to be the most terrifying of experiences, as his gaze alone is enough to instill dread within his prey

Those who endure imprisonment by Sauron are said to face difficult trials, such as physical and mental torture and long, arduous labor. In such a place, death often seems like a preferable alternative, as prisoners are said to exist in a state of eternal despair and hopelessness

Sauron would use all his might and dark magic to enslave and control you. You would be powerless against his powerful spells and would have no chance of escape

Sauron would also not shy away from killing your loved ones

He would force you to watch while one of his servants kills one of your loved ones

"Don't cry. It's your own fault"

Sauron's dark servants – the Ringwraiths – would be sent to kidnap you, and their presence alone would strike fear into your heart. The sight of them riding on their spectral horses in the night sky would be enough to send shivers down your spine

Despite all of these challenges, a relationship with Sauron could be very rewarding, as he is a powerful being with a great deal of knowledge and wisdom

[tamas-and-the-clowns-sol-left]

Hello, you've made it. You reached the Rubyverse.

What is the Rubyverse, you may ask??

the Rubyverse is an alternate universe for Aiden Thomas' The Sunbearer Duology that I, Tamas, have been creating since August 6th, 2024.

This is going to be more detailed after my small info bit, boundaries, and trigger warnings.

What is the point of this project??

This is my place to add as I wish and have content to my desires. From character pages, headcannons (that are subsequently cannon for this universe), or being my indecisive self, I am using this to express my creative freedom in hopes of finding some audience who cares enough about it

What are the boundaries??

My boundaries aren't designed to be difficult, but if you find them in such way than we are not for eachother's interaction.

I will not tolerate anything NSFW about myself, my characters, my ideas, or my posts in all. I am an asexual guy and my comfortability isn't with that stuff about me or my creations. Every creation of mine has some of me in them.

Feel free to ask questions, but think before you speak. I'll respond as much as I can and when I can, but I am a human, I'm going to be treated as such. Creating and sharing my creations doesn't lessen or add to my humanity and that's something I see many people struggle with.

No discrimination against me or my characters. this includes use of: Slurs, homophobic/transphobic comments, racism, ableism. If you are grown up enough to be on the Internet you should be grown up enough to not discriminate and keep your inside thoughts inside.

Use tone tags for sarcasm and jokes at minimum. I struggle with tone often and take everything at face value especially the less there is for me to analyze. I speak at face value, I don't use jokes or sarcasm without clarification that it is such so others can know. /j means joke and /sar means sarcasm.

What can you expect from this series??

You can expect characters that are more than just beauty standards and stereotypes. I may fall into some tropes or pairing types(such as loser boyfriend x absolutely stunning girlfriend) but my characters all have some sort of difference. They're not all perfect beings.

You can expect many, many spoilers for both The Sunbearer Trials and Celestial Monsters, aka the whole Sunbearer Duology.

You can expect changes to the trials and to the world building. Fear not, I haven't wrecked too much chaos upon this world's setup.

You can expect even more queer and trans characters, as well as some more disabled characters!! Not only do they have a soft spot in my heart, and I find representation largely important, I myself am a disabled queer trans person and love having characters like me.

Be prepared for some art style inconsistency and some writing that will *hopefully* get better over time. I'm not the most beginner of all beginners but I'm definitely not what I'd call a very seasoned artist and writer. (I also use a few different mediums for art, I stick to pencil to paper, watercolor, and digital art more often than not but I still like trying new things and having fun.)

Be prepared to read tags as this gets posted onto Ao3(And ONLY will I post on Ao3) and be prepared to read the trigger/content warnings for any thing I post here, especially writing.

Many things are based off of my own experience!! They may not be your experience, they may never be your experience, quite a few I truly hope aren't amongst anything anyone must experience. However on the flip side of the token coin I have put forth research to make anything and everything that is not written with my own experience is going to be as authentic as I can make it.

What are some trigger and content warnings I can give right off the bat??

For the sake of separation, each one is a bullet list instead of a paragraph, and I added everything planned that is something I think could risk triggering anyone.

Spoilers for all of The Sunbearer Duology!!

Major character death

"Human"(semidiós) sacrifice

Injuries

A character with hypermobility that experiences real struggles (aka not dumbed down to "oh I'm super flexible!!")

depersonalization/dissociation

self put pressure

Symbolization of needing accommodations for a disability and how society will reject or even mock thoes needs and overall will refuse to accommodate without harassment

Forced Assimilation (forcing a culture to rid their culture in order to fit into the other culture)

bullying/discrimination

abuse(parental)(physical and possible mental/emotional)

war and past war of high significance

manipulation/deception

this gets religious seeming as all main characters are dióses and semidióses (gods and demigods) however it is not a place to spread religious beliefs, no matter how good or ill intentioned

unsafe binding

Past self harm/self harm scars/non graphic current self harm

Struggles with eating (Arfid sensory type in specific)

I MUST EMPHASIZE. IF ANY OF THESE MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR YOU, KNOW YOURSELF. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED BY ME NOW, YOU WILL BE WARNED EVERY TIME ANY TRIGGER WARNING IS APPLICABLE. If you choose to skip triggering chapters or sections that's up to you, if you're looking at this and going "oh this may be not for me" feel free to keep scrolling because your health is more important than one more reader will ever be to me.

Welcome to the Rubyverse

In the world there are three godly races, The Golds, the Jades, and the Obsidians.

The Obsidians and their monsters are trapped in the stars, Jade and Golds now are the only Dióses in Rino De Sol. Right??

What if I told you there's one more set of Dióses??

Ruby red blood, the "weakest" of Sol and Tierra's godly children.

Follow eight dióses and their semidios children through their rediscovery, their "grand reveal" to all of humankind.