#therefore you shall die

[dawnofiight]

Since Gabe was alive when Sweetheart and Milo got together (I assume) I'll say it now they were prank besties when it came to Milo.

Gabe reminded Sweetheart of their Dads (I saw this hc from someone else I'll find it later) so- third dad found.

When they were told Gabe got into a car crash they had initially fainted.

When they got to the hospital and saw Gabe, they had fainted again.

When they woke up, Sweetheart almost went into the dumb fuckers (the drunk dude) hospital room and killed them too.

IDC THEY WERE BESTIES.

@candelett ty for putting this into my brain

[pieroulette]

yandere simulator; xo (only if you say yes). yjw

interactive roleplaying game: where instead of a yandere winning over your heart, you win theirs. by getting them to say 'yes', only then you will unlock the key to their heart where psychotic love resides.

currently playing. . . xo (only if you say yes)

warning: yandere, slight profanity, some grammar errors (i'm doing my best to study it >_<)

runtime: 3k.

director's cut, — jungwon boo u never fail to prove me that you're legit my muse in writing </3 this is just a fun fun interactive yandere game i randomly thought of, whatever you choose (majority of the votes) decides what happens to you with yandere jungwon :3

character visual: jw

"i'm sorry, but no. you're just not my type—"

you slammed yourself your face on your pillow, burying it so tight it sent you to heaven itself. however you'd rather die this way than pressing the 'continue' button to read the yandere's next words for his darling—which is you.

but you're not even his darling yet, much less being his close friend. maybe just a friend from school?

yeah, definitely.

well, as a twenty-nine years old office lady with her average monotonous schedule with the same routine over and over again for the past eight years, nearing her thirties yet never being able to find a qualified partner that fits her overly high standards—you're left with a game titled 'xo (only if you say yes) you've found somehow on the devil's hours; a game that was immensely difficult to pass, where you would do your best to win over a yandere's heart.

the game's description was too daring, almost too challenging, you are afraid to admit.

"wanna have your sweet affectionate yandere fawning all over you? no worries! however, as the old sayings goes; without efforts, you may never achieve anything—nothing is free in this world. therefore, why don't you sweat a little, get upset a little, cry a little, break a little—like your beloved yandere would once they fall for you? do your very best to get them to say yes to your love confession just once, and all of them—they will give to you.

blood, sweat, and tears; all of them shall be yours as long as you can make them say yes."

© 2024. all rights reserved xo, (only if you say yes)

and now you found yourself on the final level spending atleast, or disappointingly a huge sum of bucks on the game with currency of gems just to speed up the process, with your eyes bearing a newfound dark eyebags as an extra package of consequences.

you swore by your life and on god himself that you're only playing this for fun out of pure boredom and insomnia, however as you thumb through the game's introduction of yandere as it's dominant themes paired with a comprehensive summary of them; you questioned yourself with sheer shock as to why you've never find an ounce of existence about yanderes for the past eighteen years of your life despite being chronically online.

since yanderes are the exact definition of your overly high standards for men, ever since. no wonder you've never found a men like this before, turns out they only exists in fiction—you scoffed at yourself, filled with disbelief as you roll your eyes.

but! who cares if they don't exist in real life? they're now on the tips of your finger, waiting earnestly and eagerly for your love. a giggle so obnoxious escapes your lips, you feel like you are once a schoolgirl again, but without the experiences of one, actually.

but again who cares!

the game flashes a new pop-up, telling you the next step—choose your yandere character to play with. it shows you a list of seven yanderes illustrated on their respective cards, clad in coquettish-sort-of highschool uniforms; pink ties, beige vest over a dark blue shirt and pants paired with their set of flirty gestures as your thumb glided through each character—reading their descriptions; interests & dislikes, hobbies & talents, a little trivia about them, and of course—their strengths and weaknesses.

surprisingly, they had a range of informations so complete it felt like they were real humans. the developers did quite a spectacular job on it, don't they? and even the fact of how their weaknesses remains the same although with differences in how they would act on it or how far they would go; obsession, possession, and damn psychotic—willing to kill for you.

how romantic. . . in a psychotic way, of course. you hummed unconsciously, letting out a sigh after at the disappointing fact of how you still find it strangely attractive in your late twenties.

are you really that of a single pringle? pfft!

as you giddily spend your time trying to choose one of all characters. they're just all too good, looking too good for your heart to take. but one particular character catches your eye, intrigues you even with those pair of eyes—goosebumps ran down your spine as you could feel him gazing back at you.

like at you, literally.

or was it just the game's tactic to make the players like you fall deeper? hm, probably! it definitely was, unless a random ghost must've possessed your phone but that can't be right?

right?! you yelled the same word out loud, snapping your head around your room—looking for any potential jumpscares, but to your relief—thank god. now you can play your little new obsession in peace!

snapping your head back at your phone, eyes lit up in immense stars as you've made up your mind, heart thumping loudly as you scanned his unique features—tapping the "play with me?" soft pink button below the name 'yang jungwon' aka the mischievous leader kitty of the group.

in yandere academy, this group is called enhypen—and they have a bunch of fangirls, and it's not even a 'bunch', the size of their fandom is almost half of the female population in the academy and even outside of its territories—there is this ridiculously long line of female students from other academies. a feat that cannot be totally underestimated, and it's not even surprising as they are packed with dazzling visuals, and a set of numerous talents of their own.

they catch hearts everywhere, left and right, back and forth with their grand entrance to the school. each of them has their own separate fandoms too, and yang jungwon's taekwondo club practices are always filled with hearty eyes paired nerve-wracking screams that his coach spends half an hour yeeting them out.

"huh?" you let that out a tad bit too loud, almost exaggerated even. the game surely didn't turn out the way you thought, as you had the initial assumption that the yandere you chose already fell for you, and that you just had to spend those lovey-dovey levels roleplaying with them with a one or a few more predetermined routes to choose from.

the rules was pretty simple; try to get his heart—make him fall for you in the set duration of thirty days. in other words, there are ninety-nine percent possibility that he might reject your confession out of pure lack of interest. get that three row of bars; friendship, love, and yandereness as high as you can because if you were unable to do so then there will be no second chances of playing the yandere of your choice without paying an excessive sum of bucks, so you just had to do it once and make sure to do it right.

quite a challenging mission, huh? no it really is challenging but you were determined as your nostrils flared out a puff of air, straightening your posture as

the adorable motion logo of the game plays out, loading in a bunch of texts meant to help you along the way;

'yandere has each of their own unique love languages, pay attention!'

'little misfortunes are often a blessing in disguise, sometimes redirecting you away from what we call a 'disaster.'

'completing side tasks will increase your yandere's love bar by two percent!'

it soon pops up a bunch of pinky hearts and sparkling stars after all those introductions and guides before switching to a scene of him, jungwon—standing before you, and as expected, you were instructed to approach him.

the location in his taekwondo club, all while sandwiched in between his die-hard fangirls with those screams that you had to turn down your volume to zero. talk about in starting a cool first impression—well never mind, two choices popped up on your screen.

choice one: wait for him after his taekwondo practices (20% of working out)

choice two: act like a damsel in distress (5% of working out)

"uh," your thumb hovered over the two choices, is this a trap? act like a damsel in distress—what in the actual fuck? who would even do that in 2024?! you begrudgingly tapped on the first choice, and the scene switches to a pop up message:

try again, jungwon left a couple minutes earlier for a dinner with jay!

[ retry? ] [ exit? ]

your eyebrow twitches, what the fuck? just like that . . .? there's even barely a progress and you just have to fucking retry?

and jokes on you as your jaw dropped on the floor with the new set of choices presented before you, four choices—actually.

"what is this?!" you yelled so loud you immediately covered your mouth, peeking outside the window.

day three.

the love bar ain't going the fuck up, it's still there glaring at your face with it's zero percent. well that's fine, atleast the friendship bar goes up a tad bit—by five percent. a progress is still a progress!

but the game is just so greedy! you can't skip a day? sure then! but you only had three gems a day, one is to play the major mission, second to power up your aesthetics, skills, and status. third, to complete your side tasks such as running errands for your home or completing school assignments!

that even takes a whole day to refill back up, and it's not even enough with these thirty days you got and with this slow ass rate of getting jungwon to fall for you! you threw your phone on the bed, huffing like a madman—contemplating whether to spend a few bucks on it or just drop the game altogether. surely, you can't be that too attached with a yandere character, right?

right?!

jokes on you, your fingers find itself on the payment method against your will. ultimately cashing out a few bucks from your bank account with a single tear trailing down from your eye, all of this would be complete waste of money and effort if you fail to reign over his heart.

you let out an almost animalistic growl—filled with downright spite, actually. is this game even for real?! the choices they gave you are almost like deliberately setting you up for failure, definitely is! you were almost sure that is—to the point of contacting the developers themselves but you held yourself in sheer strength of self-control at last-minute, at the last digit of contacting them.

"it's okay, pampering myself isn't a sin." you pat yourself on the back, comforting yourself with a huge pout reaching the floor. it's okay! with a newfound determination, you're sure you'll make it!

day ten.

hopeless! utterly hopeless even the god of romance and cupid's themselves would laugh at you. you would, too. due to the fact that you went as far as googling on how to 'win over a man's heart" or "list of dialogues and actions that makes a man gain interest in you".

one of them even says food, that it is the way to a man's heart. but how the heck are you even going to feed a fictional game character? it would be easier if there was a food dialogue!

right, when is your character—or the game itself deciding to send a heart shaped box of chocolates? that would atleast give you a few percent to his love bar!

throwing yourself at your bed like a ragdoll, groaning and kicking your feet in the air. why do you even bother? for what? your search history is so hopelessly embarrassing, and even more embarrassing was when your co-worker had their eyes ogling at it. your mistake for letting your phone screen lit up for everyone to see, thank god she was the only one. patting you on the back that it was okay, and that she too had her fair share of struggles on fictional men.

truly a fellow comrade, you almost shed a tear.

day seventeen.

is this damn game trying to get on your nerves?

deciding to show a new bunch of rules that they didn't bother to show at the first day—set of rules you mustn't do while proceeding with the act of winning a yandere's heart, that is—you were not to skip a single day of playing—in other words, not spending a time with your yandere as in the game's words itself; they will be lonely and might end up throwing tantrums—loathing you for doing so, ignoring you for a short period or even longer depending on how long you were gone, thus risking the amount of effort you've spent so far down the drain.

and you actually skipped not one but two days because of your hectic work piling up after a fellow coworker's taking a sick leave for a week. . . and that was also after finally getting his love bar up to two percent and friendship bar reaching whopping sixteen percent.

yeah, it's sadly a 'whopping' one for you.

and now it's back at zero, with his friendship bar down to crashing down to nine digit and just as exactly the rules stated; every choice, dialogues, and routes you picked ended up him ignoring you with that furrowed eyebrows and slight pout on his lips, or responding to you in a flat out cold tone.

he's not even in love with you, so what are you even throwing a tantrum for?! you screamed that question at the animated game character on your phone's screen.

day twenty-four.

nah, this won't do. it definitely won't so why are you still trying? you bit your lower lip as you look for cheats, hacks, and tutorials online, praying to atleast find some miracle that could miraculously rocket you to ninety percent of love bar atleast!

since all you have left is six days.

you've spent an embarrassing amount of hours and days on this shit, even more dedicated and focused than you do back in your days as a student. you were so sure by this point that you could actually become a relationship therapist with all these accumulated knowledge!

day thirty.

eyebrows and lips twitching, it is.

level thirty, it is—ending on quite a horrible note, or actually, a total doomsday glaring back at you with all your nonexistent experience combined into a recipe with the title "never been in a relationship before".

a helpless laughter escapes your throat, of course—how can you catch a yandere's heart? much less make him your lover? you've never even caught a human's interest over the past twenty years of your life!

how cruel, how utterly cruel! god truly has it's ways of playing jokes. tears, laughter, giggles, sweat, money and effort—all gone down the drain.

all because of that one sentence ending it all, each word literally jumping out from his animated lips in a bold ass pink letters,

"i'm sorry but i can't accept it. i only see you as a friend, (name). i hope you could understand. . i'm sorry, but no—you're just not my type."

huh?! seriously?! a compelling urge, or a really tremendous one so colossal you can break your table into two parts—all that set of routes you've chosen so far with a careful decision and thoughts just for him to say this? just for the love bar to be at total ten percent?

jungwon, how could you? only ten percent? there's no hint of romantic affections found in his eyes or gestures, his friendship bar only by forty percent (a low score of only being his 'school' friend), heck you didn't even trigger his yandereness. like look at him! his yandere bar is at zero looming percent!

a trace of the pink love bar and red yandere bar nowhere to be seen, this is a pure scam! a love scam in the form of a game! meant to target single old ladies like you, fucking hell!

out of pure rage and disappointment, you slammed your phone on the bed—burying your face on your pillows as you let out a long drawn out, muffled scream. downright mad at yourself for even being so triggered by this whole shit, and at the fact of you acting like teenage girl imbued with hormonal changes,

"can't even get a fictional men to fall for me, i'm totally screwed for life!—"

you're so going to uninstall that shitty game, there's no point in playing anyways when you can't have the same character of your choice.

a notification 'tings' up, interrupting your bursts of tantrums—you look over at your phone with the game still up, a big pink heart-shaped bubble pops up on the screen—slowly draining into a pathetic colour of white, ultimately shredding it apart into a broken heart, mocking at your misery.

however the next message pulls outs a gasp from your throat, appearing in its usual glossy pink heart but a little redder at the bottom.

💌 2:09AM

hey there, our precious darling!

we totally get how you feel, there's no need to fret anymore! here we present to you an exclusive package where you will be given a final chance to retry for jungwon! this is a one in a lifetime chance for you—our dear player!

tempting almost, yet you're definitely not falling for that anymore.

and it's all free, let yourself fall deeper and deeper into this world of obsession. you can't really give up that quickly, right?

yanderes never knows when to give up, anyways ♡

free? there's nothing free in this world, even the game itself stated the same words. you've wasted your time, money, and effort on this dumb game and now it's giving a package that is exclusive only for you?

what dirty trick is this game trying to pull off once again?

© pieroulette on tumblr , 2024.

[sainamoonshine]

Okay so I finally watched Good Omens season 2 and have tons of thoughts about it, especially how the minisodes and side-plots do so much work, thematically.

*slaps flashback segment on the roof* this bad boy contains so much subtext!!

And here’s my analysis about some of it:

The side plots are about at least three main themes that I can spot.

1. They are all, in some way, about resurrection. The children of Job. The Nazi Zombies. The resurrectionist. Miracles being rated on a scale of how many people they can bring back from the dead. Even Gabriel, in some way, arriving naked and without his memories and innocent as a babe, then finding himself again was a form of resurrection.

This, of course, has to do with foreshadowing season two, the one where the main plot point is going to be the second coming.

2. They were all about how much it’s a bad idea to mess with humans. All flashback minisodes either had someone die directly because Aziraphale and Crowley were around (Wee Morag, the guy at the magic shop), or almost die because Heaven and Hell said so (Job’s childrens). In present-day time, Aziraphale’s messing about with people during the ball is explicitely called out as creepy and wrong and Nina & Maggie have a talk with Crowley about it.

This leads to my theory that this is also going to be a major theme in the third season. We know that in the book, Adam explicitly tells heaven and hell to stop interfering. We also know that in the show, Aziraphale and to a smaller extend Crowley need to learn this lesson.

I also think that the resolution of the next season is probably going to involve Earth being marked definitely off limits to angels/demons, possibly via the same mechanism that makes the shop into a safe heaven you need to be invited in (and the same thing became true of the Bentley once Aziraphale claimed it! As pointed out here , Shax had to hitchhike to get in, instead of appearing inside as she did before). Earth needs to be claimed. I think that this will happen either by a combined miracle of incredible proportions from both Crowley and Aziraphale after they reunite, or (and this is my pet theory) by a combined miracle of incredible proportions by Adam and whoever is the new Jesus (I am a greasy Johnson truther lol). This would make Earth a place that you need to be invited in order to go there, and therefore safe haven for angels and demons who promise not to cause trouble.

3. All of the side plots and minisodes are about misdirection. Sleight of hand. Smoke and mirrors. Magic tricks. Showing one thing while something else is true.

This is shown obviously in the Job part and also in London 1941, with the party who is getting tricked being heaven and hell, respectively. Meanwhile, Gabriel and Beelzebub are trying to trick everyone. But who is tricked by the plot lines of Nina/Maggie, and Elspeth/Wee Morag?

We are. The audience is.

It has been pointed out here and here that Nina is meant to make us think she’s a parallel to Crowley when she is actually more of an Aziraphale thematically, and vice-versa.

But what about Elspeth and Wee Morag? We have one that robs graveyards, and one who tells her that is wrong and is worried about her eternal soul. That seems straightforward enough as a mirror to Crowley and Aziraphale, no? Well, let’s just look at what they’re doing and saying to each other, shall we?

“Don’t do this incredibly wrong and dangerous thing. It will have repercussions that you can’t even begin to understand right now.”

“I’m doing this for you! You deserve better than this life!”

“I don’t want the better life you’re offering. I would rather huddle with you here, homeless and poor but knowing you’re safe and that we’re together, than to know you alone out there doing horrible things you’ve convinced yourself you need to do.”

“I do need to do it. Trust me! This is going to fix everything! And if you don’t want me to be alone, then come with me. There! Problem solved!”

(Problem very much not solved.)

Doesn’t this sound, a tiny little bit, like a certain season finale to you guys? Elspeth was, in fact, Aziraphale all along. She thought she knew what was best, and she barrelled along without listening to anyone else, and then it went horribly wrong.

There is a reason why both times this season that we see Aziraphale fucking up someone else’s plan (the corpse to sell, Crowley’s contraband whiskey) because he initially reads it as a bad thing and thinks he’s doing good by destroying it, without having the full context, it backfires on him and then the situation has to be fixed. He needs to stop and understand things properly before taking actions. He needs, in short, to ask questions.

We see that the one time he did ask questions before acting was during the whole Job thing, and it worked out the best out of all the sub plots this season, right? … except that Aziraphale was convinced that he would Fall for his actions there. The way Crowley had fallen for asking questions.

And if the only person whose assessment of the situation matches Aziraphale’s is a demon, if the only one who is doing what he personally thinks is the Right Thing is a demon, then gosh… either that means that Aziraphale himself should therefore also be a demon, OR it means that Crowley shouldn’t be one, and this was all just one big misunderstanding, and maybe if I just speak to the manager…?

[writersblockiskillingme]

I Bet You Think About Me | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader (District12!reader)

Summary: On the day of his wedding he had everything... except for the bride that he wanted.

Warning/s: angst, kind of like hurt/no comfort kind of thing, wedding, marriage without love, Coryo is drinking alcohol, reader is basically Lucy Gray in this situation, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I'M BACKK!! I missed writing so much, to be honest. All those Coryo and Lucy Gray edits to this song, plus the music video, inspired me to do this. Enjoy!

3 AM and I'm still awake, I'll bet you're just fine

Fast asleep in your city that's better than mine

And the girl in your bed has a fine pedigree

And I'll bet your friends tell you she's better than me, huh

Coriolanus Snow. The young president of Panem. He truly now felt like he had everything. He did an outstanding job as the Gamemaker. In fact, not long after, his work was praised so much that he could finally take that last step to get what he always, truly wanted. And he, in fact, did it. He was the newest president of Panem, and he knew that that was going to last for a very long time.

He had the title. He had the riches. He never had to starve ever again. He never had to wear poorly made clothes. He had the trust of the people in the Capitol, and he had the control of those in the Districts.

But as a president, everyone expected of him to choose his First Lady of Panem as quicklyaspossible, and he knew that it couldn't be just anybody.

So here he was today. Dressed up in a traditional but quite modern black tuxedo with a white undershirt and a purely white rose tucked into his suit on the right side of his chest. Standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom, preparing his wedding speech that he will have to say once he and Livia Cardew are standing on the aisle.

Livia Cardew. She was truly perfect for him. He didn't love her, of course, but that was also his own choice. That's what made her perfect for him.

Once he was forced to find himself a bride because every elite in the Capitol kept pushing, he realized that he truly had no choice. He had to keep up his reputation respectable. So, of course, he knew that his wife, the Future Lady of the Panem, couldn't be just anybody.

Livia Cardew was rich. Her family was too, of course. Their family was respected and considered quite important. Plus, she was pretty. He couldn't really deny that, really.

He chose power, money and reputation that Livia had instead of the love, kindness and compassion that came with you.

He chose it that day that he left you in the woods of District 12. He never knew what happened to you. Did you die? Did you manage to run away in the storm that somehow messed up his head. And perhaps High-as-a-kite-Bottom was telling him some sort of truth when he said that mysteries had a way of driving people mad. And perhaps, if he stayed with you, he would marry someone for love.

Coriolanus let out a groan, shaking his head in a poor attempt to shake those thoughts away. His love for you made him weak. Weak in a way that he never wanted to experience ever again.

Livia didn't have his heart like you did. He doesn't love her. Therefore, he shall never feel weak ever again. He wanted that. He wanted to never love Livia. It was easy, though. It was easy not falling in love with her. Easy compared to you.

But no! He simply refused to think about you on this day. The day of his wedding. He refused the thoughts of you to consume his mind once again. Coriolanus wouldn't let that happen.

So he turned back to the giant mirror that stood in front of him and started to go over his vows once again.

"My darling Livia. You are the most beautiful person I have every encountered." Coriolanus felt his breath shorten at his own lies. "And today, I am honored to be your husband."

It was so fake. It was so cheesy. It was so untrue.

He had to prepare the speech for his bride. For the bride that he never loved.

"Mr. President?" One of the servants came in and addressed him shortly. "It's time."

"I will be there shortly." Coriolanus replied coldly, and the servant closed the door behind him.

Once the door was closed shut once again, he let out a quite loud sigh. In just a few minutes Livia will become a Snow and he will have to proudly show off his little wife that tormented and made fun of him for years during his academy days.

With that thought, President Coriolanus Snow stepped forward towards the door. On the doorway, he lingered. He looked out of the window across his room. He looked out on the city of the Capitol and its glamor and riches and he once again came to a realization that Livia was a perfect fit for his lifestyle unlike you. But he won't ever think of you again.

With the thoughts of you that once again swarmed his head, he loudly closed the door behind himself. Slamming it shut.

Well, I tried to fit in with your upper-crust circles

Yeah, they let me sit in back when we were in love

Oh, they sit around talkin' 'bout the meaning of life

And the book that just saved 'em that I hadn't heard of

After the priest said everything that needed to be said and after Coriolanus, and Livia, did everything that needed to be done the young, freshly married couple walked towards the reception, quickly being surrounded by the Capitol's elite that eagerly introduced themselves like they were one of the most important people there.

Perhaps they were, not that Coriolanus cared even a slightest bit.

Livia was standing in the middle of the circle made by the numerous Capitol's elite while he was standing next to her, a glass of posca in his hand. He knew that drinking that liquid in his glass was not the smartest thing for him considering the fact that the alcoholic drink was perhaps a bit too strong.

Not like he considered it worth giving a damn. He needed something very strong to wash away the feeling of Livia Snow's lips on his once the priest said that he can now kiss his bride.

And now, as he took yet another sip from the tall glass, he still felt disgusted by her. Himself. The whole situation.

A few more minutes, that to Coriolanus felt like hours, passed by. The people's excited chatter. The joy of the new President and the Panem's First Lady was over-the-top evident on everyone's face, except for his.

Livia was bathing in attention that were given to her, smiling, quite pleased with the whole situation. Coriolanus felt like he was going to throw up as he watched the scene unfold in front of him as he, too, had to pretend to be happy with everything.

And perhaps it was to much of the posca that he drowned that night or perhaps it was all of the whiteness of the entire reception that made him think what he thought. Hear what he heard.

As he took another sip from the glass, he could have sworn that he heard that melodic voice that haunted both his dreams and his worst nightmares.

But now that we're done and it's over

I bet you couldn't believe

When you realized I'm harder to forget than I was to leave

And I bet you think about me

Coriolanus watched with wide eyes as you stood a few feet away from him, dressed in the blood-red dress that reached the floor barely as it hugged your frame perfectly. You, in your red dress, stood out so perfectly among the white clothes that every guest was required to wear. You stood out so much, he wondered how nobody but him noticed you.

You stood tall and proud by the enormously big wedding cake, which required the front door to be taken away so it could be placed where it was. Snow remembered watching the staff bringing in the cake, the door laying on the grass behind the servant as they carried the said cake. It was ridiculous.

You turned towards the cake, not noticing his ever so blue eyes trailing on you as you moved.

Coriolanus felt his breath shorten once again as he watched your everlasting beauty. He was suddenly very aware of the cool glass that contained posca in his hand and the cold sweat that was sliding down his spine. Was it panic? Was it anticipation? He didn't know.

He watched you as you stretched your hand out towards the top of the cake as you stood on the gigantic table where it was placed, your red heels clicking as you did so.

Suddenly, you knocked over two figures, one of himself and one of Livia dressed up for their wedding. He let out a quiet, barely audible, gasp as you did so and then slowly lowered yourself to the ground.

A little girl, dressed in white, a guest, appeared you as Coriolanus watched. You quickly froze, standing completely still. After a very short while, you slid your finger over the icing of the cake and put the finger in your mouth, tasting the cake.

The little girl smiled and did the same. You and the girl shared the smile before you struck your hand into the cake, ripping one piece out revealing the red color under the purely white cake before you shoved it into your mouth, eating it. The little girl ran off after getting the taste of the delicious cake as you chewed on your piece.

As you did so, Coriolanus and you established eye contact. You made a grimace that clearly indicated that you were disappointed that you had been caught.

Coriolanus Snow allowed himself to blink for a moment to compose himself, and once he re-opened, you were gone.

You grew up in a silver-spoon gated community

Glamorous, shiny, bright Beverly Hills

I was raised on a farm, no, it wasn't a mansion

Just livin' room dancin' and kitchen table bills

Coriolanus and Livia sat down at the front of the reception as the entertainer did his job. He entered the guests of the Capitol’s elite with the microphone in his hand, tight grip on it, which showed Coriolanus that he was nervous.

Coriolanus brushed it off because, all things considered, he was doing quite a good job. He even found himself laughing along to the jokes that were being made.

After one more joke, he turned to one of the Capitol’s elite to quietly, with a smile on his face, discuss the joke that was made. However, the moment he turned back around, his smile disappeared at the sight in front of him.

You were standing there, in a red suit, with a red microphone on your hands, making jokes.

"And then," you spoke in the fit of giggles. "He left me in the woods to die after he told me he loved me."

You laughed after it, and every single Capitol’s elite followed. Coriolanus felt like he wanted to die at that moment, the look of pure horror planted onto his face.

"And best of all was that he HIMSELF tried to kill me with a gun!" You smiled as you tapped a few times on the table near Livia as you pointed at him with a smile, and every single guest of the wedding reception broke into laughter once again.

This can't be real, can it? Coriolanus thought to himself as he watched you.

But you know what they say, you can't help who you fall for

And you and I fell like an early spring snow

But reality crept in, you said we're too different

You laughed at my dreams, rolled your eyes at my jokes

After that, you, out of nowhere, pulled out a little red box as you made your way towards Livia, who was looking at you with anticipation and excitement.

You handed her your gift as Coriolanus found it harder and harder to breathe.

Livia quickly, but gracefully, opened the box as she removed the ribbon on top.

And as she pulled out the shawl that belonged to Coriolanus' mother, he felt like he was going to scream at the top of his lungs.

It was the shawl that Coriolanus gifted to you back when the two of you took off into the woods. That was the only thing that he found once he started to chase you through the woods. He never found you, though.

Livia placed it around her as she thanked you for the gift. Everyone around you swooned at your sweet gesture as they clapped pleasingly.

You bowed your head down slowly after you drowned the glass of alcohol, falling into the crowd of guests. Disappearing once again.

Now you're out in the world, searchin' for your soul

Scared not to be hip, scared to get old

Chasin' make-believe status, last time you felt free

Was when none of that shit mattered 'cause you were with me

Coriolanus chased after you, trying to catch you. He was suddenly blinded by the light because of the photographer that was taking pictures.

After the photographer went away, Coriolanus rubbed his eyes as his vision, thankfully, turned back to normal. He looked ahead.

And there you were. In a while wedding dress. The back of the dress was trailing behind you. The dress was also graced by white roses all over it. Your hair was in a type of hairstyle that was holding it all up. Your eyes were watching his every move as you stood in front of him.

Coriolanus felt like he couldn't breathe, and so, for a moment, he felt himself longing to cherish every moment of this.

It was just like Coriolanus had imagined it. You as his bride, himself as your groom. It was everything that he truly needed. Everything he ever wanted. Just you and him. You two of you having your first dance as a freshly married couple.

Suddenly, all lights but one went away. The white light above you shined as Coriolanus tried to catch his breath.

He slowly stepped forward, and you immediately followed his lead. Soon, you were standing in front of each other. Chest to chest. So intimate. So perfect.

He slowly reached for your hand, placing it onto his as he soaked up the feeling of your soft skin against his.

He slid his other hand around your waist, bringing you closer to him as you placed your other hand on his shoulder. For a moment, everything stood still. For a moment, the only thing that Coriolanus could hear was his breathing and the beating of his heart.

Coriolanus and you leaned your foreheads against each other, noses brushing. Coriolanus closed his eyes. He never wanted this to end. Then you started to dance.

You were moving with such grace as he spinned you around. His hand in yours as you slided around the dance floor.

"Coryo," your soft voice that whispered in his ear broke the peaceful silence, and his eyes snapped to yours. His eyes. His ocean blue eyes that were always so cold now looked at you with so much gentleness and pure adoration.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, my love." Coriolanus answered without any hesitation.

"Does it make you feel sad that the love that you're looking for was the love that you had?"

Coriolanus was speechless. The look in your eyes caused the lump in his throat to be stuck there forevermore. He didn't say anything. He didn't protest to your claim. How could he? You were right. On the day of his wedding, he wished to marry you, not Livia. He never found in Livia what he did in you, and he, let's be honest, never will.

Suddenly, before he could stop you, you moved away from him, letting go of his hand and shoulder.

But now that we're done and it's over

I bet it's hard to believe

But it turned out I'm harder to forget than I was to leave

And, yeah, I bet you think about me

You lifted the front of your dress a little bit so you could walk without tripping over. You gazed over your shoulder at Coriolanus before you continued to walk away.

Once you were far away from him, you turned around, quickly causing your hair to fall down your shoulders as you leaned towards him.

All of a sudden, your dress turned red, and as you took a hold of your guitar that he knew all too well (hihi, get it?) the white roses on your dress were painted red.

The white curtain behind you fell, revealing the red light and the Covey as you played your guitar, softly swaying to the music you made.

"I hope you get what you deserve, Coriolanus Snow," you spoke softly, meeting his eyes once more. "But I don't need to worry. You will get what you deserve one day."

With a soft smile, you started to sing.

I bet you think about me when you're out

At your cool indie music concerts every week

I bet you think about me in your house

With your organic shoes and your million-dollar couch

I bet you think about me when you say

"Oh my God, she's insane, she wrote a song about me"

I bet you think about me 🌹

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @10ava01 @regulusblackcore @writesleah @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @caroline-books @runningfrom2am

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Aemond's s/o defending him? S/o's words were so scathing and brutally honest, no one can talk back to her.

Your heels click furiously as you ascend up the stairs of the tower to the room of the King’s Hand. A message had come earlier that morning requesting, no demanding, your presence at once and it infuriated you that just mere moments after his return Lord Hightower thought he could just order you around.

The door opened after you had made your way to the top, and the servant left immediately after that. Clearly having been told to give the two of your privacy. "You summoned me."

"Yes, thank you for coming." Otto replied calmly. Clever enough to pick up on the distain in your voice, but also clever enough to know not to acknowledge it. "I wanted to talk to you for a moment about Aemond."

You arched a brow. There were a lot of things you thought this conversation could be about, Aemond being one of them, but your husband had been very low on your list. "What about him?"

"How is your marriage to my grandson going?"

"...Fine..." Again, this was a very strange conversation. But you were still on your hackles as you were not sure where this line of questioning was going.

"That is good to hear. My grandsons can be a... challenge." That sounded more personal than he may have meant. "Aegon is too concerned with the opinions of others. He is reckless in his pursuit of praise and adoration, to the point of weakness."

"Careful," you caution, "is it not treason to speak ill of your king?"

"Aemond is the opposite." Otto continued. Ignoring your quip. "He is reckless in pursuit of damnation. He thinks he knows better. That books and study make up for lack of experience. And for that he will accept the guidance of no others."

"Maybe he does know better. Have you bothered to ask him?"

Otto huffed through his nose. Coming to realize his grandsons may not be the only challenge with your cheek. "I want you to caution him in my stead."

"You mean reign him in?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes." He confessed. "Aemond will not listen to me. He thinks everyone is conspiring against him."

"Aren't you?" You counter back. "You are literally conspiring with his wife to spy on and manipulate him to your own ideas."

"Encouraging him to see reason."

"You can spin this however you would like, Lord Hand, but that is what you are doing and I shall play no part in it."

"You would see your husband break under the weight of his own ambition."

You shrug. "Maybe he will. Or maybe he'll fly. But I do know this, I will not break his trust."

Otto huffed again. Crossing his arms now as he seemed to debate on a new strategy to overcome your objection. “I thought you were clever, and therefore more reasonable.”

Flattery.

“No, you thought I would be more pliable. Because I am the fairer sex? Or because you’re too scared to confront Aemond about your concerns?”

“You know, when the contracts came for who my grandson would marry, it was I who put your House name up for consideration.”

Indebtedness.

“Then I owe you for my eternal happiness. We shall name our 4th child after you.”

Otto sneered. Frustrated at your flippant tone now, but also the slight. “Your husband will die if he continues this path. And the wives to traitors, should Rhaenyra win, do not end well.”

Fear.

You have to admit. That one almost got you.

“Then let us see to it that we do not lose, and my husband will be safe, the realm secure, and all shall live happily ever after under the true Targaryen rule.” You intentionally leave it blank on who would be ruling, Aegon or Aemond, but sure as the sun rose a Targaryen would sit the throne at the end of the day. “Now, if you excuse me, I must return to my duties and my husband.” The tone in your voice letting Otto know that your loyalties had been chosen, and this conversation would not happen again.

Your curtsy like a lady for the Lord Hand and see yourself out. Half way down the stairs you change your mind from telling Aemond about the incident to keeping it to yourself. You do not wish to lie to your husband, ever. But if he heard that his grandsire had conspired with you to keep him on a leash, there was a good chance he would throw the man from his tower. Otto had been right about one thing, Aemond was getting more reckless in his frustrations on the war. Perhaps he had been right to try to help steer him towards more caution, if you could, but it would be for no benefit other than Aemond’s and your future together. You would not be another knife in Aemond’s back for him, nor would you be another pretty pawn for the Hand to manipulate his King, or Regent, with. Otto Hightower was on his own.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

A little wicked (Dark! Aemond x reader/rhaenyras daughter) really dark aemond. 18+ MDNI

Aemond x reader x Aegon

Tags: Showsetting, au MAJOR SEASON 2 SPOILERS

🔷Summary: After your husband dies, his brother claims his throne and also you.

🔷Author's note: Dark. I don't throw that label around lightly. you know the drill, dead dove? do not eat.

🔷Wordcount :4939

🔷Warnings: Smut, p in v, mention of loss of virginty, dubcon loss, death, misgony, misogny- aemond hates rhaerhae. Dark aemond, gore, blood.

You await your husband’s arrival, back from the battlefield. Today is the Battle of Rook’s rest. A battle that would go down in the History books of Westeros, Essos, all realms that ever were or will be. Unaware to you, of course. You are miles away from the battlefield, preparing for the return of your beloved husband, King Aegon II Targaryen.

You have prayed, for the first time in years, actually. Your mother didn’t believe much in prayer, more in action. You think her relationship with Alicent Hightower forever caused a deep religious wound. Religion is something that reminds your mother too much of her lost friend. So therefore, it wasn’t important in your upbringing. 

Soon, you’ll be crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and finally take your rightful place beside Aegon. You have the foolish hope that you, as Rhaenyra's daughter, maybe can mend the wound. Maybe your mother can be swayed to bend the knee, to give up her claim to the throne. If only it was that simple.

You await news. Any news. At first you are positive that Aegon has made it back unaltered. He has to. He is the king, the fierce warrior you know and while he is nowhere as good as Aemond, he has more experience than those Rook Rest soldiers. It has to be enough. He has to be enough.

However, as minutes turn into hours, and the sun and the moon dance and circle one another in the sky, you become immensely worried about the fate of your loved one. You are thankful for when the doors of the throne room are pushed open and Prince Aemond enters, at long last.

Recently, the young Prince switched from dark black leather to green dark leather, to fully show his support for his family. You remind yourself you are a hostage to these people, stolen. The corners of the prince’s lips lift mere inches, as if smiling. Yet he quickly brushes that away, as if he cannot be seen that way.

Cole follows, his face sorrowful and full of pain. The sort of pain you see on a father’s face when he loses a son. You feel your smile die as the world seems to slow down, to fade, and to darken instantly. Cole steps forward. 

Aemond walks to you. Your feet rush, but your legs are frozen, causing you to stumble and to almost fall flat on your face. Aemond pretends to walk to you, but instead walks past you, to the big Iron throne that looms over you as a dark curse. 

You watch in silence as he sits down, confirming your worst fears. You hear yourself gulp, as tears stream down your face. Your Aegon is no longer alive. King Aemond now sits the throne, and he sits it as if it took him too long to begin with. He smiles down at you, mocking and almost patronizing. Cole speaks, as first. ‘’All hail his grace, King Aemond of house Targaryen, first of his name, king of the Andels, and the first men, Lord of the seven kingdoms, and protector of the realm!’’ The words hit you like blows.

Aemond lifts his chin as all soldiers around you and all knights, servants, everyone with working legs falls down to their knees, respecting and vowing loyalty to their new monarch. Everyone but you, that is. Aemond waits quite a while before he tells everyone to raise again. Likely enjoying everyone on their knees for him, and him alone. As a cat toying with a mouse. 

After that the servants are rounded up, to be informed of the King’s fate. ‘’My dear people. It is with great sadness and immense pride, that I announce the death of my brother, King Aegon II. He shall be known to history as King Aegon the Brave, for he slew the traitor Princess Rhaenys. Had it not been for her treasonous acts on battlefield, our king would be alive today.’’ He waits a moment as gasps and relieved words cross the hall. ‘’It is with great pride that I shall now serve you as King, until my younger nephew, Prince Maelor comes of age. You may all now either bend the knee, or remain standing.’’ He gestures to the guards, and on his sign, they all draw their swords.  A clear choice.

You watch as the one after the other servant drops to their knees, swearing loyalty to the newly crowned King. After that is done they are all dismissed. ‘’Y/n. Please stay here.’’ The use of just your name makes your hair stand up. It is intimate, almost familiar.

You freeze.

Aemond finally rises from the throne, a smile on his lips. You wait and remain where you are. He does not beckon you closer, so you remain there. He walks closer to you until he is in front of you. He looks at your gown, taking in the details of the bodice. ‘’My condolences on the loss of your husband.’’ He whispers, gently. 

You blink back tears. ‘’Can I go home now? We must write to my mother that the war is over. She can come collect her throne.’’ You look over to the ugly iron thing. Aemond chuckles, adoring your naivety and your good righteous heart.

He even reaches out to touch your face, gently caressing it and wiping away a few tears with his thumb. He brings his thumb to his mouth, sucking on it, tasting your tears. You watch, speechless. He grins. ‘’My gentle hearted sweet girl.’’ It sounds like a compliment and also an insult. ‘’I have no intention to stop the war. Your mother will sit on that throne when your brother Lucerys finds his head again. You will leave her in a coffin or when I am dead.’’ You scoff, insulted and step away, ready to leave.

He grabs you firmly by your arms, dragging you closer. You are pinned against his front, where you can still see blood on his shirt. His smirk only grows as you lower your head, avoiding his eye. He lifts your chin, forcing you to look up to him as you silently cry. ‘’I haven’t lost, you see. I have the crown, the throne, and you.’’ He does the unspeakable and leans in for a kiss, leaving a soft peck on your lips. He moans softly against your lips. ‘’My darling, my sweet precious thing.’’ He murmurs. 

You give him a weak push against his chest, barely moving him. But it gets the message across. Aegon is not even cold yet. “I’m your brother’s widow!’’ You yell in righteous fury.

He laughs at that, capturing you easily with your hands again, and you hate yourself that you like how warm and fast his hands act. ‘’That means nothing in our family. You are my captive, Lady Strong. Remember? From the moment I first captured you at Storm’s end, until your very last. You are meant to be mine, so you will be.’’ He promises you. He is calm and collected about it as if is stating a fact.

He reminds you of the day when this all started. You don’t want to think back of that day. You tell yourself it is because of Luc, who Aemond fed to his dragon. But it is because of Aegon. You miss Luc, of course, but that wound had time to heal. Aegon’s loss is so sudden and just as painful, but fresh. ‘’I am not yours, you monster!’’ You raise your hand, striking Aemond on his scarred cheek.

He finally acts, grabbing your hands tighter and dragging you close until your noses touch. He is trembling with fury and his one eye is full of hatred, lust, obsession and cold blooded plans. ‘’Striking your king, is a act of treason.’’ He chuckles. ‘’I am allowed to punish you. I could take your hand for this, little lady strong.’’ You huff.

You roll your eyes even. Aemond hates the silent treatment more than any insult you could have hurled at him. Instead of making it clear what he intends, he scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder, marching you back to the empty throne.  You kick and slap his back, trying to break free of his iron grip. He places you in the hands of a nearby guard, who all have been silent on this treatment of their rightful princess. Aemond sits on the iron throne and what he does next shocks you.

He grabs you by your hips, bending you over both his knees, as if you don’t weigh anything. He pets your hair lovingly and even gives your shaking body a kiss. ‘’I do this because I love you. You are in luck. You will always be able to defy me.’’ He whispers. ‘’All men who do so will meet horrible ends that Maesters will write about for centuries, but you, my special girl, you will be able to defy, rebel and upset me.’’ He whispers. ‘’Because I enjoy punishing you. And I bet you enjoy being punished.’’ You feel his hands on your butt, as he starts finding the beginning of your gown. You hear the sound of fabric ripping, and panic, bolting on his lap. He simply holds you down tighter, smirking as you begin to whimper. He calmly hums and with one brutal movement, rips your skirts. You remain on his lap, vulnerable and in your small clothes. Aemond sits up straighter, as if he wants to fully take in this view. Embarrassed, you lower your head in his lap, allowing him to caress your hair once more. ‘’Such a beautiful girl. You were wasted on my brother.’’ He speaks. ‘’You belong with me. You always have.’’ He then turns to his guards. ‘’Leave me and the Princess. She will pledge her loyalty to me in a private event.’’ You whimper as you hear iron footsteps leave the room. 

When he is alone with you, he pulls your small clothes down fully, yanking them until your ankles, exposing you for all you are. It seems to awaken a certain hunger or desire in him, and he rips your corset and sleeves next. He fully admires your naked body, panting as he looks at you. He seems to calm down and finally he does what he promised. He hits you on your ass, spanking it harshly. You hiss in pain, in disbelief that he is subjecting you to this. ‘’Aemond, stop this.’’ You beg.

‘’You have no right.’’

He scoffs. ‘’I have every right. I am the King now. You were naughty, today. I don’t like naughty girls. Well, not as much as I like a good girl.’’ He says, talking to you as if you are a stupid little girl. Fresh tears fall. ‘’I like naughty good girls, who know what they want. But you aren’t there yet. You aren’t broken enough yet.’’ He says, joyfully as he spanks you. You give soft whimpers.

The spankings only become harsh when you remain silent, so you fake moans and whimpers to please Aemond’s dark desires. He sometimes groans too, as he sees how much damage your body is taking thanks to him, and how you take it.

“Aegon told me something before he died. He told me he never consummated the marriage. Is that true?” You wonder why Aegon told him that. 

But it is the truth. You nod. “He knew when we first were forced to lay together I didn't want it.” 

Aemond only chuckles to that comment, dealing another hurtful smack, almost as if to punish you for still loving his brother. “He raped plenty of women. I suppose you weren't special enough to make the effort.”

“Aegon loved me.” You argue, and you regret it the moment you’ve said it. Because Aemond slaps so hard that your flesh burns.

He groans now not of arousal but of pure hatred. “He didn't.”

“There's one man for you in this entire world.” You huff at his words. 

You are grabbed by the throat, lifted from his lap and forced to stand as he chokes you. You are choked, tears stinging your eyes as he looks at you with the crown slightly slipping from his hairs and his one eye bigger than usual, focused on you, the object of his obsession. You fight for control but lose the fight. “It is me.” He reveals.

“No,’ You croak out weakly. “I can't. You killed my brother-”

He sighs, almost enjoying the view. His cold fingers finger one of your nipples, enjoying the reaction your body gives by hardening for him. He chuckles.  “Such a beauty. Now. Defy me again.” You shake your head. He sighs, putting you over his knee again. You whimper against the cruel treatment, feeling the spot he struck. Aemond smirks, challenging you to speak out again. “I ought to keep you around like this. Just as the gods intended you to be. Pure, naked, unspoiled…” He feels the skin he struck. And you feel yourself clench your cunt, ignoring the waterfall he caused down there with all cost. It is true, Aemond is a handsome man. But this is wrong, isn’t it?

“May I please dress?” You ask, wiggling on his lap, enjoying when his thigh briefly rubs your cunt. That hits the spot.

The King laughs. “Such an obedient girl for asking me first.”

“The answer is no, however. You struck me, remember? That is treason.” You are embarrassed to speak. He laughs at that, rubbing your legs, drawing circles and kissing your skin. You ignore the butterflies. You can’t.

‘’Stand.’’ He barks suddenly. You obey, standing on your shaking legs, exposing yourself now fully to him. He leans back in the throne, grinning brightly as he takes in your body, toe to head. ‘’You can defy me as many times as you like. I will gladly put you on my lap and spank you.’’ He whispers. ‘’But if you say something regarding the whore that mothered you, I’m afraid we must do a different type of punishment. Am I clear?’’ You nod, hating how frightened you are.

He softens his face. He beckons you closer. You come closer until you stand in front of throne, your cunt barely touching the iron. ‘’I wish to feel your wares. I must see myself, If you and Aegon kept your word.’’ Without a warning, his fingers sink inside your wetness, inspecting you as you stand on your legs, almost falling over.

‘’Please, make me sit.’’ You beg.

He grins, forcing his finger to go deeper, penetrating you at the right speed. “No, you'll stand, tall and proud. I bet this is just what a dirty bastard like yourself likes. ‘’ It takes a while but sadly, he discovers what is happening. ‘’Oh, just as I suspected. A wet, warm and wonderful little place for my seed to crawl inside of.” You wail at those words, aroused as he fucks slowly, taunting you with his fingers.

“Stop talking as if we are going to -”  Your talking is interrupted by a smack on your cunt by his free haunt, causing you to cry out in pain and anticipation.

He glares at you, shaking you as if you aren’t awake yet.

“As if? You think I'd kept you as a pretty cup bearer or something? I plan to make good use of you. Every hole is stuffed, until you can't even crawl forward.” He promises. 

“What if I will have a child?” you whisper. ‘’That would complicate your status.’’ 

He sees that differently, mad with lust and obsession.

“That is part of the fantasy. Breeding you makes me happy. Seeing your belly swell makes me happy. You know why?” He asks, softly patting your belly. You shake your head.

“No.”

He leans in, gesturing vaguely down to his legs.

“It proves my seed is strong, powerful and well. It proves I have the power to make you, a stunning powerful princess to a good for nothing whore, carrying a bastard inside of her womb.” You sniffle, hurt and insulted.  “Judging your wet and warm cunt, you have been thinking about me too. Why don't you admit that you want this?”

“Because I loved him. I loved Aegon. That means something to me.” 

Aemond growls. “Shame he didn't love you. You know it deep down. He didn't mention you at all when he died-” You push him off you, taking off to the doors, not caring he ripped your gown or your poking breasts begging for touch.

“Where do you think you'll be going?”  He demands, his voice booming.

You raise your head as much as a princess and dignity as you can. “To my quarters until you decide to trade me for peace.”

“Peace?” He laughs. Then that laugh dies. “Peace!’ It scares you how quickly it became an almost command. “You have exactly 3 seconds to get over here and to kneel at my feet and to beg me for forgiveness-” You don’t let him finish and take off running. But he is faster. 

He simply drags you back by your hair, giving your behind hurtful smacks as he drags you to the throne. ‘’Ungrateful bastard. I can make you my queen.’’ He growls. ‘’Why won’t you accept that you want this? Look how wet you are for me.’’ He thinks as you remain at his feet, sitting there as a dog. ‘’I know something. We must train you, to ensure you are a proper pet.’’ He grins. One of the servants is allowed in, to bring Aemond a piece of rope.

You are worried he is going to tie your hands. But his plans are far worse. He ties the end around your neck, and holds it, as a leash. “Such a stubborn girl.” He chuckles. ‘’Now if you try to run, you’ll feel it.’’

“Please untie my neck.” You whisper, softly.

“Why? You can't behave, clearly. I must make the rules clear somehow.”

He has gone insane.

“Untie my neck, I'm worried I'll choke.” 

“You know, when the right person is doing it, choking, taking control of another person's breath, nay, life, can feel…amazing.”

In response you spit at him.

“Spitting at me, you are a vile dirty minded thing, are you not? I bet you just ache for someone to pin you down against the floor and to have his wicked way with you. Don't you, bastard?” He growls, handling you.

“I want Aegon…” You whisper, half a beg and half a prayer.

He almost slams your head against the throne in pure rage. You can tell he is close to losing it. “Why? Why do you want that disgusting raper. You have me. You have all you will ever need.” He says. Then he sniffs your breasts, his long nose and hair disappearing between your breasts.  “Fuck, you smell so good. So inviting. I can smell that needy cunny of yours.”

He stands up, keeping the leash in his dominate hand. ‘’I bet if I took my cock out you’d be fucking it before I could even ask you to.’’ He grins. ‘’You are your mother’s daughter after all.’’ To prove his point he lowers his trousers, revealing his manhood to you.

You are caught off guard. You never saw one before and it looks so strange yet familiar. “Look down.” He pushes your head down so you can properly. 

It is red and swollen and evil in all ways. You try to glance at Aemond but your eyes are almost glued to his manhood. He snickers amused at your virginal response. “You'd like to feel this down your legs, little bastard?” He asks, and you are shocked when his fingers find your entrance once more, and now your soaked little cunt can’t even handle this. You moan, crying of shame and desire.

Aemond grins, taking it as a sign of encouragement. 

“Get on your knees.” you obey, eying his cock. You wonder if it’ll hurt. But part of you wants to just feel good and happy for a moment.  “On all fours.” He adds, groaning in frustration.

“What is expected of me?” You whisper soft as you kneel for him in the throne room. Aemond finally leaves his throne, so he may join you.

Silence. “I can't…I'm a princess. My virtue is everything to me-”

He laughs. “I can't wait to fuck you, so you for once and for all will shut up about your prestige and your privileges. You will learn, my sweet that I decide what your worth is now. Now, I am going to ask.”

You shake as his fingers brutally Bury themselves in your untouched tight cunt. “Do you want me to be the bad man today, little Maella? Do you wish to get your cunny raided by me, here, in the throne room, on your knees, as a little dirty harlot?’ You fall to your knees, crying out as the penetrating reaches a hight, as does your pleasure. You touched yourself but never like this. Not like he does. And his dirty naughty talk..

“Do you want to feel my cock take root and to feel me penetrate away at your innocent soft rings as they wrap and tighten around my cock as I take you on the stones, your knees bloody and your vision blurry as I bring you close?’

“Do you want that?”

You begin to doubt and he knows it. So he softens his voice, for show. “It can feel so good, Maella. You know I've won. You know it. You are already naked. You are already kneeling. All I need to do is put my cock……” He parts your legs. He rubs your needy cunt causing friction as you frustrated cry out. “here…’’

You nod pleasure winning. ‘Yes.’’ You say, consenting at last. He does not need long. He drags his finger nails in your hips, bringing you closer to his front. He sits on both his knees, as he slams inside of you, fucking you with a brutal war cry. You gasp as the cock pierces through your maidenhood, ruining you for any other man. Aemond groans in delight at your gasps, fucking you harder for every bit of sound you make.

“Oh, you're deep…” you mutter, a bit foolish.

He chuckles. “You'll handle me just fine. Any woman is a bit as a frightened stag, wishing to bolt off when a man climbs her. It is his task to smooth her back into submission so the ride may be…pleasant.” You wonder if he enjoys it the way you do. But when you hear his grunts and moans you know he does.

“Just as much of a slut as your mother.” He whispers and quickly gives you a kiss to avoid your anger. “Taking it all so well. You're a natural love.”

The fucking reaches a height your innocent body cannot handle, as Aemond comes closer to, and the fucking becomes violent, with him choking you as well now. “Meant and made to be on your knees, cock deep inside of your cunt and getting fucked until you can't crawl out of your bed tomorrow.” You gasp, your cries and soft moans filling the throne room, high on pleasure. “Agree.” He hisses, suddenly. For someone who claims not the care about others, he sure seeks a lot of approval.

You know you must obey. You know it deep down. So you swallow your pride. “Y-yes Aemond.” You say, obediently.

He spits at that idea. “You will call me King Aemond or your Grace.’’ He smacks your ass, sinking a finger deep there too. You buck your hips to him, eager for more.

You need to feel good, more than anything, you need to feel alive. ‘’Aemond, your grace, please..”

That pleases him greatly. “So fast, little girl? This is just the tip of the mountain, dear. There is so much more for you left.” He promises, planting dark desires in your head.

“There is?”

He nods. “Hmm,” He smacks your butt in a playful manner.  “This is fun, but this is not the way a baby is made. I must stuff you properly for that. And there's your face…” You turn to face him, cock slightly sliding out of you in the process.

“What of it?” You ask, worried there is something stuck between your teeth.

You aren’t prepared for the answer. “It looks so clean. A nice, white and shimmering substance would look amazing on it. Something like my cum?”

“O, I don't know…” you stutter, foolishly.

You do know. But you won’t tell him that. “That is the beauty of your new life. You no longer need to know. I do. I'd love to see your cunt, breasts, belly, cheeks, chin, butt and hole covered in my cum.” He confesses. It is taking so long.

So you buck your hips to his front, hoping he mounts you soon once more. Aemond merely watches, grinning. “Taking me now, aren't we?”

“I do what you want. Just…give me…” You are at the breaking point. You are close. 

Aemond slams inside of you, fucking you up and down the tiles as you scream it out in pleasure and he hisses, likely near too. “This?”

You roar in approval as pleasure explodes and you cry out in a soft voice. Aemond can be heard chuckling. “That's it, beauty. You keep being good, and I'll give you that and more.”

“Please, my King…” you whimper. “I can't…I can't handle it anymore. I need to ..I need it now.”

The King laughs, enjoying your suffering and your pleasure.

“Such a demanding little brat, demanding to come before your king.” The Spanking you get now is not punishment. It brings you pleasure and therefor shame. You nearly whimpered at it, but at the same time you enjoyed the smack on your naked ass.  

And he bows your head down, and gives you the one after the other hard rough trust that only raises your pleasure. As the fucking increases, your needs reach a height unfamiliar to you and you stop, waiting for it to fade as you usual do when you touch yourself. Aemond sees this as the moment to strike, fully claiming you with a rough war cry and a trust. You fall down from your pleasure and come, all over his red swollen cock as he rides his own orgasm out on your spent body. The King is not happy yet, and fucks your body two more times after you are done with it. 

When he is done, he finally removes the rope. You sit up, watching the tiles you fucked upon, sweaty and stained with your blood. Aemond cheekily grins, dressing himself again quickly. You look around for anything to cover yourself with. He throws his leather bloodied coat your way. ‘’Here. Cover. I don’t wish you to catch a cold.’’ He says. You think back of Aegon. And guilt washes over you.

The door is opened and a soldier rushes inside the room. You attempt to cover yourself but it is too late. ‘’My king.’’ He begins but Aemond does not allow him to finish. 

‘’You saw my lady naked.’’ He says, instead of listening to his trusted soldier. The soldier blinks.

‘’I,I didn’t!”’ He quickly blurts out. Aemond does not even bother to explain his motivates, you can only watch as he takes his sword and chops of the head of the soldier. Blood and flesh come free as treat and paint painting the Throne room. You are horrified that Aemond murdered a man for looking at you.

You scream in horror. Aemond walks to you next, sword still dripping with blood. He levels the sword at his lips and takes a lick, before kissing your forehead. ‘’He had to die. Only one eye may look at your body. Mine.’’ He says, kissing you again as if it calms you down. It only makes you panic.

He sighs, taking you back to the throne. He makes you sit but this time there’s no spanking. Only sweet kisses and heartbroken mutters. ‘’What can I ever do to compare to Aegon? I want your love, my love. I want you to weep over my dead corpse.’’ He whispers. ‘’I want you when we marry, to become so madly in love with me, that when they find my corpse on the battlefield, you become mad and consumed with grief and you carve off one of my fingers to keep it close to you and you never think of a marrying another. I want you to die from a broken heart.’’ He whispers. ‘’I offer you the world, my love. It is ours. From Westeros to Essos and from the Dothraki grass sea to the useless kingdom of Dorne. It will fall at our feet, crumbled into dust. Thousands will die at our command, and their bones will become your crown and throne. Their blood will be your gown and their flesh will feed our love. Whoever offends you, shall die first. Let me be your King, and you will never need anyone else again.’’ You know you don’t have a choice. Once you cared about innocents. But you don’t have the luxury to care about them anymore. You must survive.

You play along for now.

Be Aemond’s Queen.

His second in command, the mother of his children, his lover and his bedmate.

To him you will be bow…

At least for now.

One of the days soon coming…

You’re going to take that boy’s crown.

//Not even therapy can fix this im afraid.

[yanfeisty]

— Voicelines about Creator!Reader (Inazuma) ♡ ！

⊹ [ characters ] — Ayaka, Ayato, Ei, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kazuha, Kokomi, Sara, Sayu, Shinobu, Thoma, Yae Miko & Yoimiya. ◞

⊹ [ synopsis ] — let's see what they think about you. ◞

⊹ [ cw ] — religious themes. ◞

⠀‣ Ayaka

About The Creator: Divine Presence

"It's always a pleasure to have Our God blessing the festivities we prepared with their presence, the sun and moon appear to shine brighter when they're here, and the people happier. It surely makes me happy to see them enjoying the festival..."

About The Creator: Consort

"As an Acolyte and a member of the Kamisato clan, it is a great honor to be Their Grace's consort... But if I may tell my more personal feelings, I feel at ease with Y/n, like I can be myself, I don't feel like people want to know more about us beyond our positions, but when we're together we don't have any titles separating us. Have you seen the beautiful scenery of the sun at dawn dazzling on Inazuma? Their smile are alike."

⠀

⠀‣ Ayato

About The Creator: Divine Ceremonies

"It is the duty of the Yashiro Commission to held festivities in Their Grace's name, such as welcoming parties, the day of their descent, and birthday of course, while trying to fit their taste. With all due respect, I have to say their opinions are quite interesting... You see, playing tcg wouldn't be the first idea I'd have for an official ceremony."

About The Creator: Consort

"Hm... So you wish to know more about our union? I suppose I can share with you a few things. We sadly don't have much time for each other as we're quite busy with our own matters, therefore I try to express my feelings in letters and presents. They did tell me it was useless to spoil them with such 'overexpensive' gifts, but... the sight of their lovely face trying to suppress a smile won't ever stop to amuse me... Besides, no price comes close to my love for Y/n."

⠀

⠀‣ Raiden Shogun

About The Creator: Remaining Soul

"Their body may have perished, but their creations never have once forgot about them. Now, they have been reincarnated into this fragile body, but they are slowly regaining their power as it has remained into the memory of the land. This is eternity at its purest form."

⠀‣ Ei

About The Creator: Consort

"Ah, my exceptional lover. In many ways they have changed my daily routine, I tried things I would never have done before, that I considered futile for my quest of pursuing eternity. But they made me realized even the smallest actions, no matter if they last for long or not, can bring an eternal feeling to one, for exemple the pleasure of eating a dessert is temporary, but the memory of its delicious taste will always be unchanging and bring happiness to the one remembering it. I accepted their proposal as a promise that by my side they shall remain joyful forevermore."

⠀

⠀‣ Gorou

About The Creator: Prayers

"I have heard few of my soldiers praying that none of their comrades or themselves would die before any serious battles or missions, I'm not really a religious person but I can't blame them, if this help them to have courage then why not?"

About The Creator: Consort

"They have brought a lot of help to Watatsumi Island, and that was even before we get together! What I love about them is that they're always so caring with whoever, they're so kind-hearted... They have lots of others qualities too, they're beautiful, funny, cunning, and the list goes on. They also must have some sort of magic in their hands, always finding my best spot to rub... H-hm, that st-stay between us, of cou-rse, I don't want them to tease me about it..."

⠀

⠀‣ Heizou

About The Creator: An interesting Case

"Quite the intriguing person, aren't they? I'm not really into godly affairs but I have to admit that them waking up with not only no memories of their past life but new ones from another world is quite...hm, intriguing."

About The Creator: Consort

"They truly have no shame for playing and stealing the heart of a member of the Tenryou Commission, they used my own tricks to make me fall over heels for them and now I don't think I can recover. Sadly their title make it impossible for me to arrest them and make them face justice, but that doesn't mean I can't teach them a lesson with my own ways..."

⠀

⠀‣ Itto

About The Creator: Ultimate Battle

"I didn't think much of them before they challenged me to a duel of tcg! Of course, I accepted it, I'm not the one to run away from a challenge and people from everywhere knows them, winning against them means that everyone will know the name of Arataki 'The Ultimate TCG Champion' Itto, ha! The one who defeated The Creator with no fear, people would never dare to fight me again, as the simple mention of my name strikes fear into my opponents, hehe... Huh? Did I actually beat them? Well... not yet, but it's only a matter of time before glory fall upon me!"

About The Creator: Consort

"The wha-? Oh yeah, sorry, I'm not used to call them that, I mostly use 'My ultimate bro', 'My one and oni', 'My onikaboo-boo', 'Cutie-sweetie-you-wish-you-had-them-ie-but-you-can't-because-this-lovely-is-the-lover-of-this-oni'. But yeah, they're fantastic, they help me to get out of jail, though sometimes they say I deserve it and leave me there... But besides that, they're an excellent cuddle buddy, always knowing how to brush my hair and horns not too delicately but not too rou-... Hey! What are you laughing at? Oh... So you think that's funny that the fierce leader of the Arataki gang have a cuddle buddy? Pff... I don't care what you think and I'm sure you're just jealous."

⠀

⠀‣ Kazuha

About The Creator: Independence

"Everywhere I go their name is on everyone's lips, I have heard they were kind and thoughtful, but what I recall best is their free spirit and wish to explore all of Teyvat, including the people but the responsibilities they have to shoulder prevent them from realizing their ambitions... Like a bird in a cage."

About The Creator: Consort

"To be truthful with you, I was hesitant of this offer, I love them with all my heart more than anything else, but what does being a consort means? I wanted to continue my life with the loving carefree spirit I fell in love with not The Creator, I was concerned that we would be tied by others' expectations and wouldn't be able to live our life freely. But... they know me best and reassured me that none of this would happen. I'll be forever grateful that our paths met, they know how to comfort me."

⠀

⠀‣ Kokomi

About The Creator

"It is difficult to know whom can you put your trust in, and if so how much amount. The Creator have proven we can trust them to help Watatsumi Island, and as its Divine Priestess I'm deeply thankful to what they have done for us. But I started to fully trust them when I discussed with them, their help didn't have any other intention than just being an act of kindness... I'm slightly concerned that others will abuse of their sympathy, but I'll be there in case that happens."

⠀

⠀‣ Sara

About The Creator

"The Raiden Shogun and myself are both Acolytes of The Creator, and since The Shogun worships them I shall give them my undying loyalty and forever assist them. Even if... their casual personality and peculiar behavior during official ceremonies is quite questionable for a God..."

⠀

⠀‣ Sayu

About The Creator

"I heard about them but only saw them once, I saw their hand going towards my head so I quickly avoided it, turned out they wanted to ruffle my hair, unlike head pats I don't think it will stop me from growing so I let them, but that made me feel even more sleepy."

⠀

⠀‣ Shinobu

About The Creator

"I have to thank them for saving us from difficult situations which even I couldn't do anything. The gang really love them especially the Boss, they're easy going and it's easy to forget they're the most superior being in all of Teyvat, they could have been one of us but of course their position doesn't allow them, but like the Boss said they're an official-but-not-really-member-of-The-Arataki-gang."

⠀

⠀‣ Thoma

About The Creator: Fun Activities

"They're very different from The Shogun, they don't really seek for an ideal like the Archons, they just simply want to enjoy life in Teyvat, haha... They've surprised me with asking if they could play the hotpot game, and I can tell you it was very fun, though I really need to pay attention to what ingredients I put... The others would probably kill me if Y/n even just has a small brain freeze, hehe..."

About The Creator: Consort

"Yes, I've heard people saying 'how can they marry a simple housekeeper?' and I have to say I wonder the same, ahaha... They're so lovely and a kind-hearted soul, I still can't believe they proposed to me, it feels like a dream when I'm with them. And we're partners in crimes when it comes to feeding and petting every stray animals in Inazuma, if you saw how easily they attract animals, it took me days to explain to every pet owners why did their pet suddenly disappeared..."

⠀

⠀‣ Yae Miko

About The Creator: Divine inspiration

"Ah yes, they're a great inspiration and pretty much all of our books related to them sell like hotcakes, we're currently on the 3rd volume of 'Divine Expressions for Dummies', we also do novels that are loosely based on them, 'Next thing I knew... I was a Deity', 'Me and My 100 Spouses' and one of my favorites is 'The Fake God' it is quite the tragedy and not the happiest book, but the end where the main character has their revenge is... satisfying."

About The Creator: Consort

"My, my, curious, aren't you? I can't really blame you, an individual like Y/n is quite the partner, a boring moment doesn't last long with them, they're just so fun to tease and their hands are very soft a perfect recommendation for everyone with fur. Hm? Everyone keeps telling you about how good they pet them? Oh well, I guess I can't blame those people, but I'll have to discuss this with Y/n when I see them..."

⠀

⠀‣ Yoimiya

About The Creator: A Shared Enthusiasm

"Y/n! Have you seen them? They're always so busy... Sometimes they come to buy me fireworks whenever if they want to keep it as a souvenir of Inazuma or asking me if we can use them together. Fireworks don't need to wait for festivals to be used, and what is cool is that with Y/n no one dares to contradict them and tell us when and where we can't do fireworks, ahh... I hope I'll see them again soon."

About The Creator: Consort

"Unbelievable, right? If we have told me I would marry a God one day I would've laugh at them. When I met Y/n I didn't even know about their true identity, but lemme tell you, them creating Teyvat and all is the least interesting part about them, they're sweet and fun, they always tell stories about their other world and the kids and I love them so much. And they share my passion for fireworks! We're planning to do the biggest fireworks show that can be seen in all of Teyvat at the same time, even if they're lots of things we didn't consider but the thought is beautiful, isn't it? Aha... Also when I told pops about me and Y/n he couldn't stop smiling for the whole week! Though, I'm not sure if he understood the part that I told it was 'The Creator'."

© ་ ׅ : pls don't translate or copy this | don't reblog with yand3r3/cult tags or if you’re a yand3r3 blog/reblog account.

@ ་ ׅ : @haileyo0ostuff

[pearlsinmyhair]

please more x reader smut with jake or miles, im starving 😭😭

wrong.

a jake sully x fem!human!reader smut fic.

warnings: smut. pnv sex. cunnilingus. overstimulation/multiple orgasms. reader is in her early twenties. daddy kink. use of pet names. squirting. size difference. virgin reader. dilf!jake sully. possibly dark content, if you squint. no beta we die like neteyam (im sorry-).

words: 2.7k

a.n.: ask and ye shall receive! this has been in the cooker for a hot minute. @eddiemunsonguitar this is also for you.

Eywa, it was so wrong. Unbelievably so. So sinful that it made you burn with embarrassment and borderline self loathing every time you weren’t burning with desire.

Desire for a man old enough to be your damn father.

It was innocent enough at first. He was just so big, and caring, and funny. And as you got older, your mind started wandering away from a silly little crush to full blown fantasies. Fantasies of him coming into your room at night, grabbing onto you and having his way with you. Practically ripping off any clothes just to ravish you until you couldn’t so much as move the next day.

And at the center of all these fantasies were none other than Toruk Makto himself. Jake Sully.

How could you be blamed? The crop of scientists, as much as you loved them, hardly sufficed when it came to what you craved in a man. Besides, not one of them would even go near you in anyway other than platonic and parental; they had practically raised you.

You were isolated and horny, with no one and nothing to take your frustration out on. And the only one other than the scientists that regularly visited was the Olo’eyktan. Who never even really looked at you, frankly.

Then again, you didn’t see him up close and personal for the first eighteen years of your life; the first half of which was spent cowering in your room or behind tech, and the second half spent admiring from a distance.

Watching with greedy eyes how his abdomen flexed when he leaned over to study Norm’s tablet, or how his thighs tensed as he crouched, or how his fingers spread when he pointed to something.

You wanted to eat him. You wanted him to eat you.

It was only the night of your twentieth birthday and after one of the female scientists told you about na’vi mating traditions that you hatched your plan.

Reassured by her statements that na’vi didn’t stick to monogamy nearly as much as the typical human did, you put on the gifted tweng and matching top you got from Kiri and Tuk as a gift, strapped your exo pack over your face, and marched into high camp with your head held high.

Jake barely knew you when he first really saw you walking the perimeter of one of the huge fires in the caves of high camp. He knew of you, from Norm and Max and their off handed comments about the spoiled princess in their mix, but he’d never seen her.

‘Spoiled’ had always been a joke- you were a kid, and you had needs that weren’t always easy for them to provide. But they did their best.

His kids had mentioned you too; Kiri was especially fond of you (“Sometimes she’s the only one who really wants to listen to my thoughts. It’s refreshing.” Kiri had snapped one night not too long ago at dinner), and Tuk thought you made a great playmate. Lo’ak had considerably less to say, mostly because you didn’t come out of the Oxygen-Pods nearly as much as Spider did, and therefore you didn’t explore with them. Neteyam had escorted you to fetch a plant for Max’s research once, and claimed you were polite.

That was the extent that he knew.

And damn, he didn’t know shit if this is what you looked like. All long legs and coy smiles and soft giggles.

It was over the instant that you introduced yourself.

You both knew it.

ִ ࣪𖦹

“Fuck, Jake please-“ you whined, wiggling and bucking your hips in an attempt to get away from his flicking tongue. His massive hands held you in place, making your body sink into the mattress of your bed within your room. The poor thing creaked with each push of his hands and movement of your lower half, and you thanked Eywa that you had requested a private living space when you had turned eighteen. You don’t think you could face anyone with apologies for the noise of your late night escapades with the olo’eyktan.

“Hush… ‘m not done.” Jake mumbled into your folds, and you had to fight the urge to kick his chest as another shot of electricity made your whole body twitch.

Two orgasms and this man still wasn’t done. He had practically ripped off your panties as soon as he was through the door, picking you up and (gently) throwing you down on the bed. How long ago was that? An hour? Two? It felt like you were melting at this point, and the slurps of Jake’s mouth on your dripping pussy made you shiver with embarrassment and overstimulation.

“Y’know what to say if you’re done, yeah?” Jake asked, pulling back just enough to make sure his words were audible. Daring to look down, you were met with the sight of strings of your cum and his saliva clinging to his jaw, his lips nearly shimmering and parted as he watched you. He brought a breathing mask to his face as he waited, rubbing soothing circles into your thigh with his unoccupied hand.

You dropped your head and with a frustrated whine, and he slapped his palm against your leg. With a yelp, you gave him an audible affirmative, restating your safe-word. Satisfied, Jake licked a broad stripe from your fluttering hole to your clit, sucking the throbbing bud into his mouth and rolling it on one of his canines. You cried out, the rush of popping sparks and burning pleasure returning.

“Just one more, sweet thing. One more and i’ll give you what you want.” he cooed, nipping your labia and tonguing your entrance.

“Need it now, Jake. Can’t take it anymore.” you nearly wheezed, huffing as you felt the coil in your gut tighten. Something was different from before, tingling just below the hot waves of pleasure rolling through your body.

Tonight, after months of eating you out and finger fucking you, Jake had finally decided to let you take his dick. Only one problem with that. Itsie bitsie, really. Nothing serious.

Just that you were a virgin. And taking a dick over twice the size of a human’s was gonna practically rip you open.

So that’s what got you here, approaching your third goddamn orgasm so maybe, just maybe, your slick would make it easier for him to slide in.

Fuck, you weren’t gonna walk for a week, dick or not.

A flood of ecstasy overwhelmed you, and you felt some kind of tingling between your legs before you were slammed back, white clouding your vision as you cried out.

When you came to and looked down once more, you watched as Jake lapped at the juices adorning your thighs and lower belly, wiping some kind of liquid from his face.

“Y’squirted, baby girl.” he hummed as he kneeled over you, picking you up and adjusting you so that your head rested against your pillows and he could rest his knees on the mattress, situating himself between your thighs.

“Prideful skxawng.” you whispered back, only to be muffled by his mouth on yours as his hands found the backs of your knees.

He pulled back, looked down at you with worried eyes as his gaze traveled between your bodies back up to your face. “You’re sure you want this? It’s not gonna be easy, or painless.”

You shifted up onto your elbows, brushing his blunted nose with your own. “Since when did you decide to be my daddy?” you asked, voice low.

Jake’s reaction was predictably dominating; he hissed low in his throat, pushing his forehead down against yours so that your head landed back on the pillow. He rutted his hips forward, and you whimpered when his dick brushed your oversensitive clit.

“This isn’t time for jokes kid. Talk to me.” he growled, and you sobered quickly as he moved the head of his cock to your entrance, applying pressure so you felt some semblance of the reality of what was about to happen.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your hands to his face and pulled him down, trying not to think of just how much he had to crane his neck to lean closer. “Just… slow. If it doesn’t fit, then fine.” you tried, swallowing the lump in your throat as Jake nudged you again.

“Trust me, kid, it’ll fit. Stretched you to hell and back not too long ago.” he assured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Just relax.”

“Oh, and let’s not call me ‘kid’ when you’re about to fuck me, yeah?” you snipped, tightening your thighs around his waist.

Jake chucked, muttered a soft “brat.” into your ear that got you to laugh. While you were distracted, he pushed his hips forward and slid the first inch of his dick in.

You squealed, and Jake had to keep his hold on your thighs tight and you tried to move away. Your hands flew to his shoulders, clawing into his skin deep enough to draw blood.

It should have hurt- he should have noticed the stings of pain.

But all he could register was tight, warm walls wrapped around his dick with a vice so harsh he swore they were gonna snap it clean off.

With breaks and whispered praise from him, he gradually suck inch by inch of his think cock into you tight little cunt, until finally, fucking finally, he bottomed out.

Tight. Tight around his tongue, tight around his fingers, but fuck. This was on another level.

You were so good- such a good girl taking all of that length, swallowing every inch he gave you with a few tears and quiet whimpers. He leaned closer, making sure not to rock into you too soon, and kissed at the tears tracking down your face, before finally pressing his mouth to yours, swallowing your soft cries every time you’d accidentally shift your hips or he his.

“Damn, pretty girl. Gonna cut off my blood circulation.” he grunted into your shoulder, and he was rewarded with a breathy laugh from you. Experimentally, he ran a hand down between your bodies, before having to mentally convince himself not to burst at what he found.

Leaning up, he looked down at the bulge in your tummy, running a hand over it before looking to your eyes. He found you looking down with awe, wide eyed and dropped jaw at the bump.

Jake placed his palm over it, and pressed down.

The moan you let out was sinful, so desperate and pleased that he nearly rammed into you just out of instinct. But he reminded himself to take it slow as he pulled out, feeling the warmth of your pretty pussy leave him, before pushing back in.

Eywa, Jake was huge.

Of course you knew he would be- you’re not delusional. But damnit, it was almost too much. Your legs quivered with each slow thrust of Jake’s hips, and you buried your face into his shoulder to quell some of your noises. It hurt. Hurt more than anything you’d experienced before. You were quite sure Jake would leave a permanent space for himself inside of you with how you were stretching.

Jake stroked his thumb against your skin where his hand still cupped the back of your thighs, pressing your knees up near your shoulders to get more leverage. The cot gave another soft squeak at the shift in weight, and for a moment you and Jake laughed, finding humor in the absurdity of fucking you into a rickety mattress in a room that Jake couldn’t fully stand up in.

The bulge in your tummy was only a physical manifestation of what you felt: fucking full. You could have cum just at the sight of it there, and by the foggy look in Jake’s eyes, so could he.

“Jake-“ you whispered, though it came out as more of a punched-out wheeze. “Move.”

His eyes flicked to yours for a moment, checking for any hesitation. When he found none, he shifted back on the bed, pulling away. You could feel the emptiness he left behind, and you opened your mouth to protest.

Before you could utter a word, Jake’s hands shifted from your thighs to your hips, and promptly rammed his cock back into you.

You screamed, the rush of pleasure and twinge of pain making you throw your head back as your hands flew to his shoulders, grounding yourself as he repeated the motion. You could feel him, deep inside of you, pressing against your cervix, his tip threatening to push past the barrier and straight into your womb.

That should have scared you, but it only made you rock your hips up to meet Jake’s with each thrust, reveling in the slick slide of his dick against your walls.

“Fucking hell, baby-“ he all but hissed, pinning your legs up again. “Taking this dick so well.”

You whined in response, trying and failing to assemble some kind of sentence to give him. Fucked out and cock drunk from just a few thrusts. How pathetic a sight you were. But no matter how humiliated you would feel later, right now you were confronted will all consuming pleasure and fullness.

Jake was confronted with the view of tears leaking from your eyes and drool dripping from the corner of your mouth, whining and moaning weakly as he continued to pound into you. He was sure he wasn’t much better, anyway. Jesus, he thought maybe you’d loosen, only to be met with a tight clench of your tight little cunt around his cock when he hit your g-spot.

Everything was on fire. Your body, your mind, your pussy. Fuck, you needed to cum. You needed to fucking cum.

“Daddy-“ you whined, finally meeting Jake’s eyes as he bent over you, letting his nose brush yours.

“I know, baby girl. Go ahead and cum around daddy’s cock. Make him proud.” he grunted out, feeling his own release pool deep in his stomach as he tucked his face into the space between your shoulder and jaw.

His permission was all it took for something inside to finally snap, and you could feel yourself gush around Jake’s dick as your whole body trembled, thighs shaking even as Jake held them. After a few beats the pleasure turned into overstimulation, and your moaning became sobs, whimpering into Jake’s shoulder for him to cum already-

Jake shuffled closer to press himself as far in as he could as he felt the coil in his stomach tighten one last time, and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, tasting salt and iron as his release filled your core.

You barely even protested, your body jumping slightly under his at the pain, but otherwise you were limp in his arms. Jake pulled back to look at you, letting one of your legs go and bringing his hand to your cheek. “Hey…” he murmured softly, running his tongue over the dribble of blood from the bite mark marring your skin, waiting for you to come down.

“Hey…” you responded after a second, pushing weekly at his shoulder in an attempt to get him to stop prodding at the wound. Jake chuckled and shifted.

“Pulling out.” he warned you, before pulling himself out of you with a wet squelch. If you weren’t thoroughly fuck out, you would have blushed. But right now, all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

Jake chuckled once more, curling next to you and cradling your body against his chest as you began to drift off. “Are you alright?” he asked, his tail curling around your thigh as his hand ran over your back.

“Mhm.” you managed, pressing a kiss to his pectoral as he hitched one of your legs around his waist. “Just gonna be sore in the morning.”

He hummed in agreement, glancing at the bruises on your hips and waist from his hands. Jake knew he should have felt bad for it, and yet his chest hummed with pride at the sight of the physical evidence of him on your body.

Mine.

He pressed a kiss to your head as your breathing evened out, feeling his own eyes grow heavy.

“We’ll worry ‘bout it in the morning, baby. Just rest.” he whispered.

And with an ache between your legs and dripping warmth in your core, you did just that, already drifting away into sleep as his body calmed against yours.

[calisources]

𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒, 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences have been taking from different media and literature, movies and more regarding the topic of mistresses and favorites, mostly in the setting of royal court but can also be adjusted to other time periods. Change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit. Some of these include foul language, so beware. Implications of cheating are also in these.

You are my king, Niko, and I need you.

Everything I say is obeyed; everything I want is given to me.

You are such hard work to seduce, Niko.

She wanted to sit ON him, not next to him.

Never underestimate the power of a woman's intuition.

Behind every great king, there is a great queen. And behind them, there is a mistress.

The King is allowed to have as many favorite as he pleases.

A queen is never without her secrets.

A woman's beauty is her greatest weapon, use it wisely.

Rules are meant to be broken, especially by queens.

Queens do not beg for love, they command it.

Have as many bedwarmers as you wish, but I am your wife and you will not humiliate me.

A queen's grace can disarm her enemies.

He will grow tire of you, as he does with the others.

Having an ugly mistress is therefore a fatal mistake.

When a man takes a mistress, he doesn't turn around and divorce his wife.

Finding out that you are not your lover’s only lover hurts.

But a mistress can do interesting thing with food. Shall I describe them?

You will come back to the castle with me.

I-I'm not your responsibility.

You are mine. They gave you to me, remember? And I want to keep you. 

Your Grace---I am a virgin.

I realize that, and it pleases me. You do not doubt that I can be gentle with you?

They say you grow tire after the first night. No mistress last longer than a night with the king.

I know what you are trying to do, but do not think to take the King away from me. Let him play with you.

Done being sore yet, by chance?

From a mistresses’s perspective, taken men are low maintenance. All they want is sex, sex, sex. 

Do not take it harshly. It’s only flesh. And a body wants what it wants.

Kings have mistresses, Queens have secrets and they die with them.

To be the mistress of a married man is to have the better role.

The role of a mistress if make a man’s mood change and send him happy to his wife.

Don't be mad at a hoe for doing what she does best, besides it's not her that owes you that loyalty.

It was not a request. I will take you to bed and make you mine.

My wife has no interest in my bed, butb I assure you, my bed has interest in you.

 Wives are young men's mistresses, companions for middle age, and old men's nurses. 

I don't want her to know the truth about us.

They know about us and they do not care. My wife does not mind to share.

As long as I do my duty, I am allowed to do who I please.

This absurd jealousy.

A mistress should be like a little oasis, refreshing and exciting, away from the mundane realities of life

The bedchamber is where political alliances are sealed, and where empires are born.

A king may rule a nation, but a woman's allure can conquer the king.

Behind every great king, there are the whispers of his mistresses.

The allure of a mistress lies not only in her beauty, but in her ability to manipulate.

A mistress must be both lover and confidante, juggling passion and secrecy.

In the court of kings, a mistress can become more powerful than a queen.

He is one of his favorites, and everyone knows it. You must become his favorite too.

In the arms of a mistress, a king can escape the weight of his crown.

I want more than this. You cannot offer me more than secret meetings and a warm bed. People whisper.

You can be my wife here. 

If I desire to marry someone else, would I be allowed or you would not let me?

I'll take you as my only mistress. I won't have a thought or an affection for anyone else.

I call Mary my English mare, because I ride her so often.

He cannot give you his true heart... for *I* have that in my keeping.

You can't have 3 people in a marriage!

Seduce me. Write letters to me. And poems, I love poems. Ravish me with your words. Seduce me.

You've taken her honor!

I swear to your grace, someone else was there before me.

They say all his liaisons are soon over. He blows hot, he blows cold.

Sometimes I believe you will grow tire of me. But then I find you here in my bed.

If I cannot please the King, will he kill me?

You must not touch me, for Caesar’s I am.

Everyone knew she was his queen and wife in anything but name.

You will have this orgasm if it’s the last thing I do.

What happened to the art of seduction? A woman enjoys being seduced.

I will not be the laughing stock of the realm. A woman who can only be a lover, never a wife.

I found her a very beautiful young woman with a very sweet and yielding disposition, She confessed to great admiration for Your Majesty. Should I, arrange ...?

If you put the Queen aside for this affair, the kingdom will fall apart.

If you seek Your Grace, you know where to find him.

I trust his mistress more than I trust any man on this table.

My husband is extremely jealous. Wants me sent to a nunnery.

I am with child. It is His Majesty's child.

Slow down so I can see how you do it.

Think of this as training. For your future husband’s pleasure. And mine.

should like to be your wife in every way.

I was wondering if you'd like to become my mistress.

You like to board other men's boats.

You know perfectly well what the King desires and what he shall have.

I saw with my own eyes how attentive he is to you.

My only satisfaction is that in frustrating you, I hasten your fall from the King's good graces.

Any man is weak against a maiden’s magic. Alluring and sweet. Like spring.

I make you this promise. When we are married, I will deliver you a son.

I have yet to decide whether to make your bedmate a head shorter.

So you can have your lovers and I have my own, but at the end, we return to one another. 

If you are not careful and a bastard is conceived, you will be ruined.

Everything will change for her. That kiss is her destiny and fortune.

So, what about this girl, this putain, the king's whore? Why doesn't somebody just get rid of her?

Have any of the women you've bedded with lied about their virginity?

Pretty, witty Nell, don’t forget you are mine until I say so.

Do you seriously expect me to be the first Prince of Wales in history not to have a mistress?

I will teach you many things, how to please a man and in turn, you will be my eyes and ears in court.

I thought you wished for us to be over.

How can I when you plague my mind at every turn.

Let me have you, at least once. Many women would consider it an honor.

[7-wonders]

Literally, if Calliope held my face and gave the affection that’s described in World We Dream About, I would fucking die. All I can think about is how the reader could only wonder how Morpheus would ever separate himself from someone as tender, gentle, and utterly radiant as her-

(Read more of my Calliope/Morpheus/Reader stuff here!)

"Can I ask you something?"

You're sitting in the gardens of the palace of the Dreaming with the Lord of Dreams himself, who slowly looks up at you over the top of his book (some report on a nightmare doing who knows what) like you're a nuisance. You know that's not the case though, since he's the one that sought you out and invited you to join him.

After your...memorable first meeting with Morpheus, followed by a tearful goodbye with the woman goddess who had been your roommate for the past few months, you had never been expecting to see either again. They were important beings of myth and legend, after all—you were just a regular human. Practically nothing compared to them! That's why it was so surprising when you went to sleep barely a week later and found yourself face-to-face with the Sandman once more.

"I owe you a boon, whether you believe yourself worthy or not," he said. "And I imagine that you have many questions relating to the information you received that fateful night. Therefore, you may ask me your questions, and I shall do my best to answer them."

He was right, of course. You did have questions. So many of them that it almost made your head spin when you tried to think of the first one that you wanted to ask. But ask you did, and he dutifully answered each and every one of them.

It was definitely appreciated, and you felt that the conversation gave you a lot of answers and closure to this chapter of your life. In your mind, it was the end of a chapter. Calliope was gone, off to Greece and Mount Olympus and her sisters with no sign that you would ever see her again. Morpheus had deigned to meet with you once more, and now that his perceived obligation was fulfilled, you expected that to be the end of any sort of magic in your life.

But then you saw him again.

And again.

And again.

Now, you see him at least once a week. Each time, he comes to you in your dreams, and each time, he acts as though he's simply being charitable by offering Calliope's human friend some company. You know that's not the case, though. No, Morpheus will never admit it, but you think he's lonely. And now that you both have a shared person, that gives him a connection with someone...even if that someone is the mortal that his ex-wife found herself accidentally belonging to in what you can say in retrospect was a true comedy of errors.

"You just did," he points out cheekily.

You remain unamused and roll your eyes. "C'mon, you know what I mean."

He nods. "I do. Continue."

"Please don't answer if it makes you uncomfortable, but I'm curious. Why...why did you and Calliope break up?" How did you manage to so severely fumble the bag? is what you really want to ask. "I mean, she's Calliope."

What you mean by, "she's Calliope," is, of course, that she's Calliope. Beautiful and kind, wise and strong, charming and witty, and a whole dictionary's worth of other characteristics that can only hope to capture who she is. You had never met a person like her before, and you doubt you'll ever meet somebody like her again.

Most mortals wouldn't dare to speak to an Endless like you just did. Unfortunately, prior experience has made you bold, and you know now that Morpheus is begrudgingly fond of you and therefore won't smite you if you overstep. Somewhere along the way, you stopped feeling so wary of the Dreamlord. Now, you like to think that your relationship is something close to a sort of friendship.

(If you're being honest with yourself, lately your feelings for Morpheus are complicated, as are your feelings for Calliope. That's a conversation for another day, and it definitely does not factor into your current conversation, thank you very much.)

A small, small smile plays on his lips, Morpheus understanding exactly what you mean. "Yes, she is. We were both much younger in the days of our marriage, if one as young as yourself can believe such a thing."

You appreciate that he's trying to find a bit of humor in what is assuredly a heavy moment, so you smile encouragingly at him.

"Mistakes were made by both of us throughout the course of our relationship, myself more. Ultimately, it was..." Morpheus pauses, and when he speaks again, it's much quieter. "In the end, the loss of our son proved too much for us to overcome together."

Well, now you feel bad. Calliope had only talked to you about Orpheus a handful of times, but with what little information you have, you know just how loved he was by his parents, and just how devastated they still remain by what happened. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

He shakes his head. "When last we parted, Calliope suggested to me that it would be wise for us to talk about Or—our son together. That remembering him might help to be able to properly grieve." Morpheus says that last word like it's foreign to him. It probably is, actually. "I am starting to find that she is right."

"She's right a lot. It's kind of annoying," you commiserate.

This helps to break the heaviness that talking about death (not Death) and loss brings, and Morpheus lets out a breath in his version of a laugh. "She does tend to be right fairly often."

Now that your question is answered and you know that you didn't just ruin his day, you gesture towards his book. "Okay, I won't bother you anymore, promise."

"You are not nearly as bothersome as you believe yourself to be." He gets a look in his starry eyes when he says this, one that conveys there is much more being left unsaid within this single sentence.

His confession makes your chest feel warm, and you try not to act as pleased as you are. "I'll endeavor not to change that, then."

[cuthalions]

THE CHILDREN OF HÚRIN by J.R.R. Tolkien Edited by Christopher Tolkien

'But upon all whom you love my thought shall weigh as a cloud of Doom, and it shall bring them down into darkness and despair. Wherever they go, evil shall arise. Whenever they speak, their words shall bring ill counsel. Whatsoever they do shall turn against them. They shall die without hope, cursing both life and death. [...] For you have dared to mock me, and have questioned the power of Melkor, Master of the fates of Arda. Therefore with my eyes you shall see, and with my ears you shall hear, and nothing shall be hidden from you.'

[noneorother]

By far the dumbest movie reference no one caught in Good Omens is : The League of Gentlemen's Apocalypse

I'm working on a theory that requires many hours of movie watching, so here we are. Many people have already mentioned that the nazi zombies/Furfur is a The League of Gentlemen comedy troupe shoutout. But I'm taking it one step crazier. Remember the opening scene from the 1941 minisode of S2E4, the one with the london bombing and the Angel statue in the bottom right corner ?

Haha sorry my bad. That's the climax intro scene of the movie The League of Gentlemen's Apocalypse. Here's the opening scene of the 1941 minisode:

You can excuse the confusion after seeing both, with how they look pretty much identical (yes this is giving me The Tales of Hoffmann PTSD, thanks for asking) And it's not very coincidental when you know who helped write the minisode.

You know, just the fourth member of The League of Gentlemen and writer of the movie LG Apocalypse. So shall we tease out all the (I'm warning you) EXTREMELY dumb quotes and story beats this terrible movie has lent to the 1941 episode? There are quite a few. But there's also a potential story arc that isn't so dumb... (TW offensive comedy, including mild gore)

In order to understand this you probably have to know a bit of background on British show The League of Gentlemen. "[A] surreal British comedy horror sitcom... follows the lives of bizarre characters, most of whom are played by three of the show's four writers – Mark Gatiss, Steve Pemberton, and Reece Shearsmith – who, along with Jeremy Dyson, formed the League of Gentlemen comedy troupe in 1995." You don't need to know all of the characters or backstory of the show, just that it's a fictional town with many fictional characters played by the same three writers (and an invisible fourth).

(Also known as all these people right here) Want to know who they plays a stand-in for Jeremy Dyson in LG Apocalypse and gets murdered first with black marker on his face?

Say hello, baby Sheen!

So we've seen the bombing scene, what about the car driving through fire and Aziraphale's suggestive line at the beginning?

Yup.

Do the characters make a deal with a Reece Shearsmith character to enter the real world through a church?

HECK YEAH. Bonus points for the green background.

A gag about fake lips with Steve? Sure.

Steve Pemberton seen here as a nazi zombie, and also here playing "Herr Lipp" (also known in the actual script as "the worst pun in the world" in the movie. Groan). What about Mark Gatiss Stealing binoculars from Steve to spy on two important characters? But of course.

Surely not the arm falling off too?

Oh dang. It's a big plot point in LG Apocalypse you say? Then, in the climax, does someone in dark sunglasses who doesn't know how a rifle works fire it at a main character, and the other character who he misses says fuck? Now you're pulling off my arm..

Well I'll be damned. The only difference here being Steve's head exploding, naturally.

I'll admit, I have trouble seeing where a giant 3 headed chimera beast that destroys a bunch of characters fits in at the end of the 1941 miniode, but I don't think 1941 is meant to be a stand in for the whole movie, because at that point in the movie the role of the main characters shifts to become the real versions of Shearsmith and Gatiss, not the characters. But even though the end of the movie doesn't track with 1941, I think the moral at the end is interesting : "In the church, Lipp says he will kill Gatiss. The other characters try to dissuade him, saying that once all the writers are dead, Royston Vasey will cease to exist and they will die. Lipp claims that they will in fact be better off, because as long as they're controlled by someone else they have no free will and can never change for the better. Tipps tells Lipp that because he saved the day and can therefore change, Lipp need not kill Gatiss. He persuades Lipp to hand him the gun, only for Tipps to accidentally fire it and kill Gatiss.

With all the writers now apparently dead, the residents of Royston Vasey prepare for the worst. Instead, everything calms down and The Apocalypse is averted. The characters realise they now have free will. Herr Lipp adopts some orphaned children, the vet, Mr Chinnery, finds a rabbit and is able to take care of it without killing it, and Bernice and Pauline become romantically involved. Tipps leaves the church, waving goodbye to Edward, Tubbs and Papa Lazarou. It appears that Royston Vasey can continue to exist independently of its dead creators." This struggle for free will outside of the plan originally set out by their creators, especially in the context of said creators not really caring about them anymore, really starts sending red flags up for me. Crowley's existential crisis at the beginning of S2E1 seems to be mulling over similar themes. The lack of any God narrator as in season 1 might be a change in storytelling technique, but might also point the the creator being absent, or having moved on without really letting her original creation know it gets to exist on it's own now. Funnily enough, this is the second movie with shot for shot quotes throughout, that places a specific set of characters at the center of their own deeper plot that has a meta level to the storytelling. I'm starting to think there's a pattern here...

_______________________________________ Here's my series on the Tales of Hoffmann, another movie hidden within the series.

[thatgirlwbraids]

at your command by neville goddard highlights

the awareness of being is the door through which the manifestations of life pass into the world of form.

This is the truth that makes man free, for man is always self-im- prisoned or self-freed.

If you are dissatisfied with your present expression of life the only way to change it, is to take your attention away from that which seems so real to you and rise in consciousness to that which you desire to be. You cannot serve two masters, therefore to take your attention from one state of consciousness and place it upon another is to die to one and life to the other.

The second, as we are told in the story of Mary, is to “Magnify the Lord.” We have identified the Lord as your awareness of being. Therefore, to 'magnify the Lord' is to revalue or expand one's present conception of one's self to the point where this revaluation becomes natural. When this naturalness is attained you give birth by becoming that which you areone with in consciousness. The story of creation is given us in digest form in the first chapter of John. “In the beginning was the word.” Now, this very second, is the 'beginning' spoken of. It is the beginning of an urge – a desire. 'The word' is the de- sire swimming around in your consciousness – seeking embodiment. The urge of itself has no reality, for, “I AM” or the awareness of being is the only reality. Things live only as long as I am aware of being them; so to realize one's desire, the second line of this first verse of John must be ap- plied. That is, “And the word was with God.” The word, or desire, must be fixed or united with consciousness to give it reality. The awareness be- comes aware of being the thing desired, thereby nailing itself upon the form or conception – and giving life unto its conception – or resurrecting that which was heretofore a dead or unfulfilled desire. “Two shall agree as touching anything and it shall be established on earth.”

You are ever sent into expres- sion by your awareness and your expression is ever that which you are aware of being.

To do this you take your attention away from all that is now your problem or limitation and dwell upon just being. That is; you say silently but feelingly to yourself, “I AM.” Do not condition this 'awareness' as yet. Just declare yourself to be, and continue to do so, until you are lost in the feeling of just being – faceless and form- less. When this expansion of consciousness is attained, then, within this formless deep of yourself give form to the new conception by FEELING yourself to be THAT which you desire to be.

The only way to change your expressions of life is to change your con- sciousness. For consciousness is the reality that eternally solidifies itselfin the things round about you. Man's world in its every detail is his con- sciousness out-pictured. You can no more change your environment, or world, by destroying things than you can your reflection by destroying the mirror. Your environment, and all within it, reflects that which you are in consciousness. As long as you continue to be that in consciousness so long will you continue to out-picture it in your world.

you can only be to others what you are first to yourself.

but as your true self, a faceless, formless awareness, and free yourself from your self- imprisoned prison.

That is why it is constantly recorded that Jesus left the world of manifes- tation and ascended unto his father. Jesus, as you and I, found all tings impossible to Jesus, as man. But having discovered his father to be the state of consciousness of the thing desired, he but left behind him the “Jesus consciousness” and rose in consciousness to that state desired and stood upon it until he became one with it. As he made himself one with that, he became that in expression.

Just as a branch has no life except it be rooted in the vine, so likewise things have no life except you be conscious of them. Just as a branch withers and dies if the sap of the vine ceases to flow towards it, so do things in your world pass away if you take your attention from them, be- cause your attention is as the sap of life that keeps alive and sustainsthe things of your world. To dissolve a problem that now seems so real to you all that you do is re- move your attention from it. In spite of it seeming reality, turn from it in consciousness.

Become indifferent and begin to feel yourself to be that which would be the solution of the problem.

For instance; if you were imprisoned, no man would have to tell you that you should desire freedom. Freedom, or rather the desire of freedom would be automatic. So why look behind the four walls of your prison bars? Take your attention from being imprisoned and begin to feel your- self to be free. FEEL it to the point where it is natural – the very second you do so, those prison bars will dissolve. Apply this same principle toany problem.

I have seen people who were in debt up to their ears apply this principle and in the twinkling of an eye debts that were mountainous were re- moved. I have seen those whom doctors had given up as incurable take their attention away from their problem of disease and being to feel themselves to be well in spite of the evidence of their senses to the con-trary. In no time at all this so-called “incurable disease” vanished and left no scar.

“I am” is he that will save you. If you are hungry, your savior is food. If you are poor, your savior is riches. If you are imprisoned, your savior is freedom. If you are diseased, it will not be a man called Jesus who will save you, but health will become your savior. Therefore, claim “I am health,” in other words, claim yourself to be the thing desired. Claim it in consciousness – not in words – and consciousness will reward you with your claim. You are told, “You shall find me when you FEEL after me.” Well, FEEL after that quality in consciousness until you FEEL yourself to be it. When you lose yourself in the feeling of being it, the quality will em- body itself in your world.

“For I am not a God afar off. I am nearer than your hands and feet – nearer than your very breathing.” I am your awareness of being. I am that in which all that I shall ever be aware of being shall begin andend. “For before the world was I AM; and when the world shall cease to be, I AM; before Abraham was, I AM.” This I AM is your awareness.

“Except the Lord build the house they labor in vain that build it.” 'The Lord,' being your consciousness, except that which you seek is first estab- lished in your consciousness, you will labor in vain to find it. All things must being and end in consciousness.

Put not your trust in men for men but reflect the being that you are, and can only bring to you or do unto you that which you have first done unto yourself.

Man has always blamed others for that which he is and will continue todo so until he finds himself as the cause of all. “I AM” comes not to destroy but to fulfill. “I AM,” the awareness within you, destroys bother but ever fills full the molds or conceptions one has of one's self.

Life does not care whether you call yourself rich or poor; strong or weak. It will eternally reward you with that which you claim as true of yourself .

Such acceptance of your desire is like dropping seed – fertile seed – into prepared soil. For when you can drop the thing desired in consciousness, confident that it shall appear, you have done all that is expected of you. But, to be worried or concerned about the HOW of your desire maturing is to hold these fertile seeds in a mental grasp, and, therefore, never to have dropped them in the soil of confidence.

If you would catch that which is beyond your present capacity you must launch out into deeper waters, for, within your present consciousness such fish or desires cannot swim. To launch out into deeper waters, you leave behind you all that is now your present problem, or limitation, by taking your ATTENTION AWAY from it.

Another story is told us; of the widow and the three drops of oil. The prophet asked the widow, “What have ye in your house?” And shereplied, “Three drops of oil.” He then said to her, “Go borrow vessels. Close the door after ye have returned into your house and begin to pour.” And she poured from three drops of oil into all the borrowed vessels, filling them to capacity with oil remaining.

You, the reader, are this widow. You have not a husband to impregnate you or make you fruitful, for a 'widow' is a barren state. Your awareness is now the Lord – or the prophet that has become your husband. Follow the example of the widow, who instead of recognizing an emptiness or noth- ingness, recognized the something – three drops of oil.

Then the command to her, “Go within and close the door,” that is shut the door of the senses that tell you of the empty measures, the debts, the problems.

Recognition is the power that conjures in the world. Every state that you have ever recognized, you have embodied. That which you are recogniz- ing as true of yourself today is that which you are experiencing. So be as the widow and recognize joy, no matter how little the beginnings of recog- nition, and you will be generously rewarded – for the world is a magnified mirror, magnifying everything that you are conscious of being.

“I AM the Lord the God, which has brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage; thou shalt have not her gods before me.” What a glorious revelation, your awareness now revealed as the Lord thy God! Come, awake from your dream of being imprisoned. Realize thatthe earth is yours, “and the fullness thereof; the world, and all that dwells therein.”

You have become so enmeshed in the belief that you are man that you have forgotten the glorious being that you are. Now with your memory re- stored DECREE the unseen to appear and it SHALL appear, for all things are compelled to respond to the Voice of God, Your Awareness of Being – the world is AT YOUR COMMAND!

[evilminji]

(Ironically) Oh My God... ( o.o)

Do... okay, so there are many, MANY religions... JUST here on earth. Right?

Not all of them think there is "an afterlife". Some think there is a NEXT life. Potentially MANY lives. Some also believe in JOURNEYS you must take, to reach THE Afterlife. Or perhaps periods of judgment. Evaluations of WORTH. So forth and so on.

What I am saying is?

There? Are Ghosts who probably just straight up REJECT the premise that they are dead. Oh sure, YOU might be. Or BELIEVE you are. But they KNOW they aren't.

Because The Gods Said So.

Some, are also, AWARE they are Dead. But reject that? All this? This is it. No, no. This is the MIDDLE. They are supposed to GO somewhere. They haven't FOUND it. But when they DO. They will, as a community, make a map for those who follow and head on in! It'll be great!

There are FAITHS in the Zone.

Beliefs that were compatible enough, that they Did Not Die.

And they'd probably like to tell you about it.

Why WOULDN'T they? It was a VERY important part of their daily life, originally. And NOW? Is frankly a Highly Topical Subject, don't you think? The discussion of "is there a God?" Is KINDA important to have, when you're stand outside the gates to SOMEWHERE, and none of who can agree on WHAT is on the other side.

Is it better to stay here? Were we abandoned? Is this a punishment or a blessing? An accident? Freak occurrence? Are there Gods HERE? And if so, does that mean WE can become one? What does that MEAN, if we can?

All HIGHLY important topics to discuss.

But! It's made all the more pressing because? There's all these OTHERS! Who have never even HEARD of your gods teachings. And therefore? Don't know where they are.

They, innocent people, have been TRAPPED HERE, for centuries if not longer. May be condemned to be trapped FOREVER. Anyone with even a scrap of empathy would be HORRIFIED.

The problem is that THEY are horrified too. Think YOU are trapped. And of course, your first impulse is to tell them they are Wrong... but?

Are they?

What if NEITHER of you are Wrong? Elder Beings keep insisting this place is INFINITE. It is therefore ENTIRELY possible, this is a place to simply? Store the place before afterlifes. Like a busy road.

After all, your Gods certainly never mention these new people. And THEIR God (singular, correct? Right.) never mentioned YOUR people. Surely they WOULD have, if it was important!

And such concensus starts to build. Because everyone is trying to move on, pray, ascend, or otherwise do as their holy scriptures told them too. They are ALL rather lost and confused. And UNLIKE those Fight-y violent sorts? THESE fine religious folks are pleasant and sensible.

Even if no one can quite agree. Meh. SOMEONE is right here and I shall live assuming it's me until proven otherwise, respectfully and as the gods preached.

And it's quite literally like religious Fandoms, to make light of things a bit. There is bickering. And "stop that infernal CHANTING, I can't here my self pray!" *chanting grows louder in protest* "ARGH!". And trying to make new, confused ghosts welcome.

It's one of the ZONES within the Zone. Like slowly gravitating towards like, until the Zone itself started to just naturally shuffle them all together in clumps. Like with the academics.

Now why? Do I even bring this up?

Because! I think it would be HILARIOUS if everyone wanted to convert the Newly Crowned Ghost King to THEIR religion, under the belief that he could? As some sort of Holy Divine King, ask GOD(tm) : "Bruh. Wtf are we supposed to be doing? We are SO LOST. Can we have a hint?"

And yeah, half of them are like "just for fiiiive minutes! We can totally kick you out of the Temple afterwords if you don't like it! You totally WILL, obviously, because it's AWESOME. But, like, if you WANT too! Five minutes! Pleeeeeease???"

While the others are just shooting Informative Pamphlets out of alien potato cannons in FULL religious regalia. As Danny flees at full speed. Getting pelted.

Maybe some real weird Space Monk is just ( o-o) *is under Danny's Bed. Makes eye contact when he leans down to look for his shoes* "one of us? One of us?" "How did you even get passed the ghost sheilds?" "The Gods have many paths." "Not helpful! And terrifying! Get out from under my bed." *awkward scurry* 👉👈 "one of us?" "No. Back to the Zone, you know better." *sad mantis-otter Space Monk noises*

Just? As a writer, I am a bastard. And I think Danny should get harrased by Court Officials wanted him to Govern more. It's funny. He is a teenager and doesn't know shit. It's like watching an Esteemed Academic Conference being lead by someone's toddler. They don't know what's going on! But they Sure Are Giving Answers! :D

@hypewinter @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @hdgnj @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[koogl001]

Hello! Can I request alastor with an eldritch s/o that's more powerful than him. I love the creepy flare that you give your alastor fics but since he's naturally the more dominant type I sorta wanna see him react to someone who could probably rival lucifer.

One-Shots and Headcanons Masterlist

When Alastor first arrived in Hell, he made it his point to start gathering territory as soon as possible, leaving a blood bath behind him

He was strong, stronger than any mortal soul you have ever seen, and that intrigued you immensely

Being one of the Overlords, you constantly seeked new challengers whom would be worthy of fighting and most of the times, you ended up being disappointed

To you, fighting was something you lived for

When Alastor finally arrived at the borders of your territory in search of his next victim, you were ecstatic to finally see just how powerful he truly was

Your battle was the most enjoyable one you had for centuries, but it wasn’t enough

The deer demon was new to Hell and therefore, new to his powers so he hasn’t quite reached his full potential yet, and you just couldn’t kill him before he did

No, you had to face him at his strongest, a battle to death

Taking Alastor down, you expressed immense interest in teaching him about his powers and helping him become stronger for the single purpose of crushing that power of his once he was ready in your eyes

Despite his pride not allowing him to accept your assistance, his interest in you kept him in your presence as you were the first being to ever bring him to his knees

He knew you held a high status down here and was ready to strip you of that status and take it as his own, crushing you under his shoe as he felt the overwhelming feeling of dominancy

That was his new goal, and he would see to it that it would be fulfilled, no matter how low he would have to stoop

He tried setting traps, using cheap tricks, surprise attacks, angel weapons, blackmailing and anything else he could think of, but you were always one step ahead of him

For once in his life, he wasn’t the one on the top and strangely, he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would

Your fights were enjoyable, you were quick on your feet and smart with your strategies

To him, you had it all

Smarts, power, status, and beauty

He decided it would be only fitting for you to become his once he overpowered you, but with each passing day he realised time and time again that there was no taking you down

So, he decided that if he couldn’t have the pleasure of defeating you physically, he would do so mentally

He was aware of the effect he had on women and some men, and knew just how to spin that to his advantage

He’d start subtly by complimenting your fighting style while you two sparred, engaging more in your conversations, being in your presence more often and of course, secretly watching your every move

You saw the change in him but didn’t pay it much attention as it was not indicating the possibility of a threat, until he started gathering information from you about what you liked and disliked

Now that was out of character for him, and you became slightly suspicious so whatever you told him, you always chose your words and the information you were giving up carefully

Hunting was something you shared an interest in, there was just something so appealing about stalking your unsuspecting pray and slaughtering it, feeling the power you had over it

The power to choose whether it shall live or die

Passionately discussing the topic for days, you soon grew emotionally closer, and for some strange reason, you no longer wished to kill him

Alastor’s plan was slowly coming into fruition, but what he hadn’t accounted for was the fact he was staring to have romantic feelings for you

You were the first woman that make him feel this way, and he wasn’t sure how to handle this

His instinct was to just take you and claim you as his, but with your power that would be impossible

He took to being with you 24/7

His overprotectiveness was starting to show as all it would take for Alastor to attack was for a man to simply look your way

In your eyes however, he was the one who needed protection

He was weaker than you and quite reckless at times, but it was a nice gesture from him

It reassured you that he truly cared about you not only because of your status and it made you want to return the gesture

You approached him and asked to form a contract with him, which took him by surprise of course

You had everything, so what could you possibly want?

You told him you wanted him, and you knew he wanted you

Green light emitted from Alastor as he extended his hand towards you

“I shall be yours till the end of time”

[varpusvaras]

*jumps in* Hi!!! 10, a kiss on the jawline with Fox/Bail/Breha pls? May I suggest Bail and Breha giving Fox kisses on the jawline?

You may suggest, and you shall receive!

Fox had not had any idea about intimacy when he had left Kamino.

That wasn’t his fault. Kamino just really didn’t do any kind of education on anything of the sort. It wasn’t deemed important, because they were the soldiers of the Republic, and good soldiers didn’t have the time or the luxury to participate in such activities. Needless distractions, meant for actual people, and therefore, not meant for the clones. 

Of course, Fox had known something. They had a health class that came with everyone having to possess baseline medical skills. They knew how their bodies worked. They knew all the scientific names for every part of themselves. There had just been no information for anything else they could do with their bodies, other than fight and die. There had been rumours, as well, tiny specks that had trickled down from the older clones and finally to them, but all of it had been extremely vague and sounded honestly baffling. Fox had not understood why someone would want to put their mouths on anyone. That had to be unhygienic. 

If they figured out some things their bodies could do by themselves, in the little privacy they got from the Kaminoans and the trainers? Well, nobody really talked about that either. 

Fox ended up figuring it all out very quickly once he started his posting on Coruscant. 

How could he not? It was everywhere. It took Fox pretty much only a week or so to figure out that bodies and attraction could sell absolutely everything, even things that really didn’t make sense to him. Sometimes it really seemed like no matter what was being advertised, there would be a barely clothed person in the ad as well. 

After realising that, it was easy to figure out the rest. Even the putting your mouth on another person-thing. Fox had realised in a rather sudden and frankly, embarrassing, way that he wasn’t as immune to other people’s bodies as he had previously thought. Stone was, and he made fun of the rest of them relentlessly. The bastard. 

Well, it wasn’t like Fox was ever going to…explore any of that. He didn’t have the time, and, even more importantly, he really didn’t want to get out of his armor in front of just about anybody. No, if he ever wanted to do anything with anyone, it needed to be someone he trusted completely like that. Especially because…Fox wasn’t going to say that he was intimidated by it all, but…every time he saw other people having any sort of intimacy, they made it look easy and natural. Like they knew exactly what they were doing during every second of it. That was the one thing Fox just couldn’t figure out how it worked. 

Maybe he would, if he ever got the chance, but…no, he had too much to do already. He wasn’t attracted to anyone specific. Maybe…maybe he was just too late already. 

So he tried to ignore it, and it was going rather well, but then Bail Prestor Organa had to come marching into his life with his gentle eyes and kind smiles and soft words. He just had to, and just like that, Fox was gone. 

With all of that, also came the very intense experience of having wants and it all being targeted towards a specific person.

With all of those wants, came back the realisation that Fox had no idea what he was supposed to be doing.

He tried his best to not show any insecurity. He kept his head high and his exterior collected, even when he was constantly sputtering and stumbling on the inside. Thankfully Bail was being gracious by going very slowly. One half of Fox was very glad that Bail had a wife and thus knew about things already, but at the same time, the other half of him was terrified of the same fact. Fox hated being embarrassed, and even more, he hated the sole idea of being embarrassed in front of Bail. 

So, Fox, sitting on the edge of Bail’s desk, gripped the said edge of the desk very hard to keep his breathing in check and his body in place, while Bail had one of his hands on Fox’s back and the other one on his waist, and his lips pressed against Fox’s neck. 

Fox really, really understood the appeal of putting your mouth onto someone else now. By the gods, did he understand it. He gripped the desk even harder, letting the hard wood press into his palms to keep himself from making any sort of noise. 

He was doing really well on it, until Bail moved his lips up, all the way to the corner of Fox’s jaw, and so very gently pressed kisses down along the line of it. Fox hadn’t thought of himself ticklish before, but apparently, he had thought wrong, because a surprised laugh escaped from his mouth, and with it, also a partial moan he had attempted to keep down just a second prior.

Fox didn’t have the time to properly register what he had just done, when he felt Bail’s lips curl up against his skin, and then Bail was pressing another kiss on Fox’s jaw, and another, and another, more and more, along the line. 

Another laugh escaped Fox before he could stop it, his whole body shaking with it, and his lack of resistance gave Bail just more opportunities to kiss him even more. 

“Bail”, Fox managed to choke out between laughs and other noises he did not want to name. “Bail, Bail, stop-” 

Bail did stop. He backed away and straightened up, so he could look Fox properly in the eyes. 

“Yes?” He asked, again, with the soft way he always spoke to Fox with. “Is everything alright?” 

He sounded almost concerned, and Fox had to hurry to answer, before Bail would get stressed, all because Fox was being weird.

“Yes”, Fox blurted out, still just a little breathless. “Yes, everything is okay, I just- I’m sorry.” 

It didn’t work, because Bail just looked even more concerned now than he had been before Fox had started babbling. 

“Sorry for what?” He asked, so earnestly, that Fox, even with the embarrassment aflame inside him, had to answer truthfully. 

“For-” He swallowed, “-being…not good at this.” 

Somehow, Bail managed to look both even more concerned and confused at the same time. 

“What are you talking about?” He asked. “You’re doing just fine.” 

“No, I-” Fox had to look down towards his lap. “I just made it weird by…you know.” 

“By laughing?” Bail asked. Fox nodded. “Fox, I was quite intentionally trying to make you laugh.” 

Fox whipped his head back up. Bail had an odd expression on his face now, though mainly he looked utterly perplexed. 

“What?” He blurted, because, quite frankly, he had no idea what was going on anymore. 

“Quite honestly, I was starting to be a little concerned”, Bail said, “that you were not enjoying this, and were just making yourself do it to please me.” 

“What?” Fox repeated, because now he really had no idea what was going on. “Of course I do! I just- I was just trying to be good.” 

Oh, the way Bail looked at him then, with so much care and affection on his face and in his eyes that it made Fox want to both explode and melt down to a puddle. 

“Fox”, Bail said, the same amount of care and affection in his voice as well, “you are being good. All of this is supposed to be fun to you. The only thing you should be doing right now, is to just enjoy it, and not care about anything else.” 

For some reason, that was the moment it all clicked for Fox. Attractiveness sold. Sex sold. It only made sense that everything he had seen about all of it, had been a product to sell something, even if it was just a false ideal of things. 

“Oh”, he breathed, the strength of the realisation making him a little light-headed. “Oh. Um.” 

Bail, being perfect, like he always was, waited patiently for Fox to gather himself. 

“Can we-” Fox gripped the edge of desk, this time to just ground himself. “Can we start over?” 

Bail smiled at him. 

“Of course”, he said. He leaned a little closer, before stopping momentarily. “Just to make sure. It was all alright to you? What we were doing before?” 

Fox nodded. 

“Yes”, he answered, and with that, Bail leaned back down, his lips finding Fox’s skin again. 

Right at Fox’s jawline. 

Even though Fox knew it was coming this time, he still didn’t manage to quell his laughter in time. This time, though, he didn’t even really try. 

Still.

“Bail.” 

Bail laughed as well. 

“I’m sorry”, he said. “I just had to.” 

Fox huffed, and was just about to say something rather snarky, when Bail’s mouth moved to the side and up, and he nipped the skin right behind Fox’s ear. 

Fox could yet again feel Bail’s grin against his skin as another high-pitched, surprised moan escaped Fox’s mouth. 

—

Fox was starting to think that he was getting rather good at this. 

He was basing this thought in the way Breha looked right then, smiling and outright glowing, her breaths still just calming down. 

“Good?” Fox asked still. 

Breha hummed, catching her breath for another moment before answering. 

“Good”, she said, and giggled lightly as Fox pressed small kisses on her collarbones. She let Fox freely move her around, only sighing contently as he laid down and tucked her close to his side. Her bare body was soft and warm against Fox’s own, and Fox could really only marvel at it all. 

How he had gotten here, how he had gotten so lucky, Fox still couldn’t quite understand. 

He must’ve fallen deeper into his thoughts than he realised, because he only snapped out of it when Breha moved. 

“I thought, back when I met Bail, that I couldn’t possibly get any happier than I already was”, she said, as she pushed herself up on her elbows, and lightly rested her head on top of Fox’s chest. “Somehow, though, the Galaxy deemed me worthy enough for you as well.” 

Fox snorted a little. 

“Between you and me, I should be the one saying that”, he said. “You, on the other hand, are easily the most worthy person of all the happiness there is.” 

Breha sighed, still fondly. 

“Well, look at it this way”, she said, lifting her head up again, “aren’t we lucky, that we found happiness together?” 

She looked at him with bright eyes, her voice so full of love, that Fox’s voice caught somewhere inside his throat. 

There it was again. Yes, weren’t they so lucky? Somehow, somehow, Fox had found happiness, and at the same time, managed to be the reason for someone else to be happy as well? That shouldn’t have been how it worked. Fox was made to be expendable, someone not important enough to be taught more about life, someone whose search for happiness was deemed detrimental and needless before he even had gotten the opportunity to begin his search- 

His thoughts were broken up again by soft, warm lips pressing against his jaw. Fox blinked, and then a laugh was already making its way out of him, as Breha braced herself more against the bed for better leverage, and moved her mouth up Fox’s jawline, peppering him with soft, sweet kisses. 

Fox tapped her on her back. 

“Breha.” 

“Sorry”, she said, leaning her face back down on Fox’s chest. “Bail told me about it, and I had to try it.” 

“Of course he did.” Breha laughed at his exasperated tone. 

“I love it when you laugh”, she said. “I love it when you are happy. I love you.” 

She looked up at him and smiled. Fox smiled back. 

“I love you too”, he said, and wrapped his arms around Breha as she wrapped herself around him.