#tw: heavy subject matter

[grox-empire]

EUCHARIST.

Since I've become a bit more open about what the whole scene with Celeste and Gula is meant to represent I decided to make a symbolic art piece... I won't outright say anything but if you want to piece things together go the fuck ahead! I love it when people theorize about my oc lore.

[psychicthepsychic-daily]

they said it would be amusing. wear a smock for the hell of it. why not?

fine, psychic supposed. he wouldn't have to clean the blood off his jacket by the end anyway.

(tysm to @/thatonetwig for the idea behsdfjd)

[viarayy01-blog]

one thousand nine hundred eighty three things i never said to you

[oakskull]

hey did yoy guys know that heathers was a comedy

[sixsthemeii]

welcome to hell, sunshine

[ferromagnetiic]

【 KID'S BIRTHDAY 2024. 】

          It is his birthday.

     The party hasn't even started and he is already drinking.

     He's ready to get wrecked and remember absolutely none of it tomorrow.

If you catch him when he's pissed enough, he might even be a little bit less horrible to you. Or maybe he'll be even more aggressive. Depends on how the night goes.

[humandisorderincarnatedean]

my least favourite headcanon/interpretation of the canon is that dean committed rape as a form of torture in hell. it feels like people are only like ‘well maybe he did that in hell!’ because rape is a type of pain and dean inflicted pain, and it was something done to others in hell so hey that must mean he did that as well right, but it feels disingenuous to me. i don’t think it fits in with how dean talks about rape and sex after hell compared to how he talks about torture, or how he behaves around sex after coming back from hell. it just does not make sense to me and it annoys me when i see it

[abstractkind]

Your tags on your boomer post reblog struck me square in the chest: https://www.tumblr.com/abstractkind/723326609719984128?source=share

My Nan is 80, and never really unpacked that her father was an abusive alcoholic from whom her older brothers protected her; older brothers who joined the ww2 effort asap to get away from him and left her and her mother and sister in law behind

I had success in talking about divorce increase as "even if it did 'go too far' whatever that means, as the response of my father's generation to what was done to people like my Nan his mum." It's a selfish argument but one that eases by acknowledging trauma, and encouraging the understanding that they weren't the only ones who were going through it, and that the help might be too late but it is intended as help

I'm saddened others can relate, but it's affirming to know I'm not the only one who's seen it.

I'm just old enough to have boomer parents as well, largely in part because they had me rather late in their life, and my grandparents were much the same. We've found countless ration tickets from the Great Depression in handling estates, and only know part of our family back home because my grandfather reconnected with them while he was drafted in Europe. I never met my grandfather, and I'm rather glad I didn't. He sounds much like your Nan's dad.

Once I was deemed old enough to not be carefully sheltered from reality, I was always aghast at how casually my grandmother, aunts, and uncles all spoke about the alcoholism and abuse like it was the most commonplace thing. And it gave me context for a lot of the things I saw from each of them in their own relationships with their spouses and children, including my own parents– even if I didn't forgive them for some of the shit they did. And it was commonplace. Of course, I can only talk from the perspective of the people I grew up around, but "poor immigrant or residential school families devastated by the wars and a system built to try and keep them out" was the common denominator, and most people I knew had similar stories. Me and my cousins were regularly told to marry within our cultural group because our husbands "might beat us, but at least they'd put food on the table". And that was just... accepted. My grandmother left and returned to my grandfather twice, because there just wasn't support for a single mother with kids at the time, and she plainly couldn't get by in the world alone.

My aunts and uncles (blood and otherwise) all seem to reflect this. I hear a lot of the same from that age group: that they would never do what their parents did. But a lot of them seem to consider that the bottom line, the one standard of parenthood to maintain and all that really mattered. They didn't terrorize us the same way as their parents, so they were good parents, end of. They still refuse to look critically at any other behaviors because they seem to feel like comparatively, we have it easy. And in some ways we do! I'm grateful for what is available to me now, and that if I ever faced what my grandmother did, my neighbours wouldn't shrug and call it my husband's right. But it didn't excuse their own failings, or the ignorance they still seem to cling to now when my cousins' kids try to explain what they're going through. Or how my union-pensioned uncle keeps railing about entitled kids on strikes.

But man, it hangs heavy on some of them still. Generational trauma as a concept felt like a gut punch when I learned about it, because that was absolutely the face of the people who raised me. Understanding that has absolutely helped me with conversations with them.

[sol-stays]

tried glancing at the first chapter of worm again and. great reminder for how uh, dated it is.

Readers who are on the lookout for trigger warnings are advised to give Worm a pass.

Thanks i guess :/

[transbcyfriend]

FOUND OUT MY R**IST'S HOUSE BURNT DOWN A COUPLE MONTHS AGO ✌️😚

[doggirlnarcolepsy]

watched gerald's game with my wife this evening. went into it with zero expectations (I've seen a lot of shitty king adaptations) but it was actually pretty good and really well paced, but fuck me... everything about that movie was just exceedingly triggering.

fuck you flanagan, you talented bastard.

[mossangelll]

Yandere!Jinx x Reader

Bath Time 🛁🫧

a/n: decided to indulge my weird thoughts…sorry for any grammar/tense mistakes i wanted to write this down so bad i barely proofread 😭

pic from @arcanescreencaps

tw: afab reader, dubcon, improper drug use, smut but nothing too detailed - mdni

Why did you have to be so stupid and sprain your arm? It wasn’t even that bad, just some mild swelling and a touch of discomfort - in the outside world, where you still had independence and freedom, you would’ve handled it perfectly fine.

But you’re with Jinx now, holed away in her den where she treats you like you’re made of glass. In another life her doting care would’ve been such a welcome comfort but here it’s like being stuck under the hot summer sun, stifling and oppressive. She had decided you were too injured to care for yourself so she took over instead. It was finally time for you to have a shower and no matter how loudly you protested she decided that she needed to bathe you to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself even more.

What a load of bullshit.

So, after your ‘tantrum’, she had wrestled you into the bathroom. The tub was almost full to the brim with bubbles and even a…graffitied rubber duck floated along the still surface.

You grip onto your towel and look back at Jinx, who stares you down with a look that says ‘drop it’. You don’t dare challenge her silent demand, you upset her enough by hurting yourself - you’d rather not be punished again.

Your shaking hands let go of the fluffy towel clenched in your iron grip knowing you can’t delay the inevitable any longer. Her eyes seem to darken the second your towel is on the floor, eyes roving your naked body as she bites her lip. Tears well in your eyes at being subjected to something so, so humiliating.

You jump into the tub without a second’s hesitation; all you want to do is sink under the water and drown but you know Jinx would never let that happen. You settle for using the bubbles as a sort of cover to protect yourself from her wandering gaze. She kneels down at the side of the tub getting all the toiletries she would use ready.

She’s oddly quiet as she takes a sponge and douses it with apple scented body wash, her body wash. Her hands are careful as they scrub at your your back, apologising whenever one of her long nails happens to catch on your skin.

It’s not so bad, you think. The water is warm and Jinx had started humming one of your favourite songs. You don’t like the fact that nothing of yours really belongs to you anymore, but you downright despise the way you actually like the way her scratchy voice follows the music.

“Ya know, my sister used to do this for me back when I was little���” Her voice seems so small and pensive as her train of thought wanders off into the heaviness of the humid air as she continues to scrub.

You wait for her to continue but she’s clammed up, focusing instead on getting you clean. The only times you heard about this mysterious sister was when you set her off and she would rampage, letting loose little details her and there in her episodes.

Your heart aches for her but you don’t even know why. She kidnapped and hurt you but still she finds a way to infiltrate every aspect of your being.

Her hands travel to your neck and arms, a trail of suds following her circular motions. Your eyes are closed as you relish in her ministrations before they’re suddenly jolting open, realising where Jinx's hand has stopped.

“Toots, you, uh, don’t mind if I make sure you’re all clean?” Her low voice calls out, eyes glued to where the tops of your thighs would be under the suds and bubbles.

Her fingers tremble under the water, sponge drifting closer to the apex of your legs. You find yourself squeezing your eyes shut out of instinct when you realise how ruddy the apples of her cheeks are, how heavy the pants that rumble out from deep down her chest are. You try to angle your body away from her leering gaze but there’s no point - the tub is too tight and you don’t want to risk her anger at getting everything soaked.

You don’t even bother answering her indulgent question as you know she’s not truly asking you feel about her endeavour.

Your chest is tight with fear and anticipation like ripping off a sticky bandaid that you know is going to sting.

The sponge delves between your legs.

You gasp at the sensation of the porous sponge the feeling so shocking, your thighs tremble in response.

At first she really is just cleaning you and you suppose she would’ve had to do it at some point. You relax thinking you can let your guard down - she’ll move onto your legs and soon you’ll be done. Soon you can forget all about this experience.

But she doesn’t stop. The sponge is now petting you, her delicate manner swapped for harder pressure. Your legs squirm and you try not to keen at the sensation. What is she doing?!

The damp heat in the enclosed room must be getting to your head. You feel a delirious, warmth spreads from the base of your feet and up, up, up; you have to fight just to remind yourself that she is your captor. She is insane and she will stop at nothing to keep you with her, even if it means killing you and taking herself with you.

And still, despite the mantra you repeat, your head feels impossibly heavy and you have to lean your head back just to ease the pressure. She rubs at a particularly sensitive spot and you can’t help but let a small moan slip out from your lips.

Jinx’s perceptive link eyes dart up to look at your contorted face, travelling down your neck and stopping just where the bubbles meet your breasts.

God, you don’t want her to think you’re enjoying what’s happening to you.

But it’s clear she does as the blush on her face travels down to her chest and it’s like she’s a flashing red flag screaming danger but you can’t find it in you to pull away. She lips her chapped lick and grinds the sponge even harder against your clit as your hips cant towards her searing touch.

Jinx has never initiated anything sexual before and now here you are mewling for her as if anything about this situation is normal. You hate yourself so much for giving into her but your brain is so scattered and you’re too tired to revolt against her.

Electricity is sparking down your spine like a live wire in water and you feel yourself reaching your peak so close and just right and-

Jinx pulls her hand out of the water like she’s been burnt. Her eyes blown wide and she seems to be shaking - why has she stopped? She shakes her head as if to clear the stray thoughts that vacate her mind.

How could she do this to? Humiliate you by treating you like a child and then touching you so intimately knowing she wasn’t even going to stick around? Your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and you just want to drag her back so she can touch you more.

Her body is stiff as she stands up to dry her hands like nothing even happened between you two.

“I need to uh…finish a job for Silco. You know me, shirking all my work! He’ll kill me if I don’t leave right now at this very second. Yeah.”

Her voice wobbles as she rambles on and you can tell by the way her eyes shift as she avoids your gaze that it’s a lie. You know she knows that you’re aware of this fact. You scoff with a roll of your eyes and splash your foot in the water, booting the rubber duck out of the tub and it plops out with a distorted quack. You feel used, even more so when you realise the fire in your stomach seems to be burning stronger for Jinx.

She scurries over to the exit, hand reaching for the door handle, eager to make her escape before she pauses, turning to look at you one last time.

“You can finish bathing yourself, right sweet cheeks?” Her face is still dusted with pink and her eyes are glazed with wonderment as she stares down. You slowly nod your head yes, anything to get her to leave you alone.

Jinx takes her leave and shuts you in to be alone with your thoughts. She waits for a second to hear for the splash of the water before sliding down the door, long blue pigtails pooled at her feet. Her eyes are closed in bliss and she brings the hand that was washing you to her mouth, taking a tentative lick - as if she’s committing the taste of you to her memory.

A small grin erupts on her face - today was a victory.

She needs to let Singed know that this new shimmer variant was a success, a great one, and she needs more.

masterlist

[andraxicated]

𝐀𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Pairings: al haitham x f! reader

a/n: this has been rotting in my drafts jail for a month or two

tw: angry sex | hot nerd haitham! | jealousy | outdoor sex | sex pollen | dirty talk | dumbification inspired by sakaki-kun doujinshi

"Look at Alhaitham. He's been like that since yesterday, I think his hair is about to fall off." Kaveh, your Kshahrewar friend comments with a snooty tone, pointing the man behind you with his chin. Upon hearing his name, you turn around to see Alhaitham on a faraway table, scribbling between tall books and parchments.

Being blessed with a vision and physical prowess, his senses are heightened and so he knows when someone is staring at him with intensity, he's even more used to it since he's the type of guy your head would follow. Alhaitham's head rose to catch you shamelessly ogling him, your elbow that was resting on the top rail of the chair fell almost immediately. Every time you see Alhaitham you get this feeling of floating on a cloud; like there were butterflies in your stomach, your fluttering heart prompting the corners of your lips to twitch, and the quivering itch burning between your thighs.

Under the table, you crossed your legs to relieve the tension, something that Alhaitham's eyes diverted to before he settled them back to your gaze. He's been attentive to your body lately and a silly smile breaks out from you until Kaveh's voice snaps you out of your trance, turning your attention back to him.

"What the fuck is wrong with him? Why did he stare for so long?" Kaveh looks troubled and is currently exchanging faces with Alhaitham. Your friend's skeptical face morphs into a frown the longer their staring contest was, until Alhaitham resumed burying his face in his books as Kaveh let out a relieved sigh.

Hopefully, soon his face will be buried between your—

"He looks like he wants to kill me." You suddenly burst out laughing at Kaveh as he looks at you wondering what's funny.

"Why do you seem so happy?" The blonde man in front of you slams his hands on the table, his eyes blown wide in disbelief. "Aren't you forgetting I'm your only friend? You'll be a loner when I'm gone!"

"I think you've forgotten that I have other friends too. And I don't care if it means someone stops freeloading off the books that I bought." You said with an emphasis on the '"I". "We're not even from the same darshan!"

"But some of the core subjects coincide within schools so I borrow from you."

"Sorry but I really have a hard time imagining you graduating" Kaveh fumes at your mean comment and accidentally lets out a loud "HEY!", disturbing other students and earning a look from the supervising personnel.

And Alhaitham noticed that as he can't seem to focus on his studies anymore. Not when he clearly sees your shoulder rising and falling from laughter, the dumb blonde's ugly face frowning then joining you with smiles, and how the atmosphere between you and that guy seems so carefree, so easy. Unlike with him, he notices your nervous body language, the avoidance of his eyes, and how you hate his presence so much you suddenly shut off.

Alhaitham doesn't like it. He doesn't like it one bit. His fist clenches on his thigh, mind racing on how to get out of this ridiculous predicament he put himself in. He absolutely hates how you hold so much power over him. He even dropped his guard and opened the chance for you to dethrone him as the top student at the Akademiya.

Alhaitham sighs, deciding the library wasn't his peaceful place anymore and leaves out the door.

From the heavy workload you all are suffering, every student needs at least to let loose. Be it a strobe-lit room full of dancing nerds or intense drinking games that has lightweights falling down like candles, everyone who needs to wriggle out of their uniforms will go there, no matter how lame the partygoers are.

"Ugh, this sucks that it's Akademiya only. I see these faces every day, I wanna meet new people!" Your friend moans in agony, her head bending back in exasperation as you two move alongside bodies on the dancefloor. You nod in agreement, frowning then scanning the room for a certain gray-haired man with highlights.

To be honest, you don't care about the people you meet because someone already has your heart.

"Where is Kaveh?!" Your friend asks over the loud music and you roll your eyes before giggling drunkenly. "He's stuck in his dorm doing his assignments due tonight!" You shout with a smile on your face, feeling kind of sorry for the man who's missing out on such a party. "He'll be dead if he doesn't pass that!"

And you burst out laughing yet the grin quickly wipes off your face when your stomach churns and a sudden urge to vomit comes up your throat. You hold a hand up to signal your friend and then push your way to the nearest bathroom, fumbling with the doorknob until it bangs back to you alongside a moan. oh. it's occupied.

You don't waste time getting out of the party and throw your stomach's contents to the nearest potted plant. Apologies to the dendro archon repeat in your mind as you take deep breaths to find your footing, faintly registering the heavy footsteps coming behind you.

"Here" A hand holds out a handkerchief for you to take, your hazy mind looked up to see Alhaitham towering over you, feeling your knees giving up.

"Thank you" You mumble and take the cloth, wiping your mouth as discreet as you can. "I'll clean this—"

"No need to return it to me."

Then before he could turn around, you grab the hem of his jacket, lightly revealing skin with his sleeveless top. You gather yourself before standing upright, shaking your drunk head to make way for clarity.

With a mischievous smile on your face that you hope he would fall for, you propose a late-night rendezvous to the man in front of you.

"Let's go to the city outskirts and sober up."

"You're the only one who's drunk." He deadpans

"Aren't you getting tired of being cooped up in this tall tree? We won't even go that far! Besides, it's busy right now in the city and I heard you don't like people. It's much more quiet out."

He looks at you, contemplating your words, and stares at a part of your face for a bit too long.

It's unfortunately not what you think.

"Brush your teeth first and freshen up. I'll wait for you by the gate." He walks off and your face fell.

Needless to say, you had a little breakdown at your dorm while dressing up in front of the mirror, even looking dumped as you tell your friend you're going out for fresh air.

All changed and clean, you trek with Alhaitham to the city viewpoint. Greenery fills your nostrils as he helped you climb the elevated land. "Thanks" You mumble and he hums, laying down the blanket you brought with you. It was probably done out of good for himself but still, it makes you smile. Maybe you were a little too obsessed with this man.

"Wow, the divine tree looks so pretty from here. It's amazing—" You get cut off by his loud cough that caught your attention. You look back at him to find a tinge of pink on his cheeks, a sheepish look on his face. He licked his lips, a motion you followed with your eyes until he coughed once more.

"Move your skirt, I can see your...underwear" He hesitated before completing his sentence, averting his eyes to the forests from your plump pussy. Embarrassment floods you in turn, moving to a position where your lacy panties are not vulnerable to his eyes. It takes you a moment to recover from digging stares into the soil and for Alhaitham to calm his boner down quietly.

Gulping down the last bit of your embarrassment, you happened to make the purple plants behind you the topic of conversation. Leaning closer to it, you admire the glow of the flora and asked him an obvious question that your brain processed too late. "Are these lavenders?" The smile wipes off your face when you realize they aren't, bracing yourself for the incoming smarty-pants reply.

If it was any other person, he would construct a sentence that subtly hints "dumb" but you're different and he's sure you're not one. Your mouth just runs first before your brain.

"It doesn't take an Amurta student to know it's not lavender. From the shape of the petals, its thickness, and from the strange glow and scent that differs from that of lavenders, it's obviously not one. However, I fail to identify this peculiar-"

"Okay I get it!"

You huff. "It's sweeter though" You comment as you take another whiff of the flowers, the scent filling your nose and into your lungs, strangely lulling your body to relax. Alhaitham knows you shouldn't sniff strange plants in the wild but he also knows to shut himself up right now, lest he upsets you even further.

"It's so addicting like it can be made into perfume! I like the scent!" You exclaim, a sigh leaving your lips as you close your eyes.

As soon as you said you like it, he leaned and carefully sniffed the emitting scent; any reservations he had about the plant were gone as soon as his nose welcomed it. It smells like browned pages of books, the fervid aroma of spices, and...your hair. One that he had the chance to smell one fateful morning in the hallway, where he had to help collect your fallen books.

"It smells so good" He murmurs out of himself until he snaps back and hears your giggles.

"I know! What is this plant? It smells exactly like my favorite flower!"

That is alarming. Whose nose is broken? What exactly is this plant—

His face drops as a sudden burst of arousal hits him like a truck, his dick print rising as panic fills his mind. Oh. OH. How could he realize this just now?

"(y/n) stop. get away from it." His deep voice shocked you, even more so his large hand that dwarfed your wrist and pulled you away. It sent lightning throughout your body, weirdly feeling the sensation on your suddenly sensitive nipples and the insatiable itch that grows inside you.

You know exactly what you're feeling. And it doesn't take long for you to look at the plant with accusing eyes.

Alhaitham removes his hold on you, moving away to a safe distance from you and the flower. "You can go first, I'm better off staying here." His chiseled back faces you and it's hard to fight the urge to wrap your arms around him, you want to latch on him like a leech, crossing your legs on the blanket at the thought.

"I don't think I can travel all the way to the city anymore." You said

"You need to. It's dangerous here."

You have to. He can't exactly walk with his huge problem confined in his pants, nor can he jerk himself off with you behind him. Oh archons he thought about that and it accidentally turned him on further. He had to hold back his groan, hands already undoing his belt quietly until a warm, sneaky touch to his thigh jolts him.

"What the-" "Haitham...I'm sorry about this. I should've been more careful" You whine, slowly creeping onto his lap as his hands stop midair in shock. His cock was protesting heavily, letting out a pained grunt when your soft cunt decided to rest above his bulge. "Fuck! (y/n)!" You attach your arms around his neck, burying your face on his chest from your unexpected boldness. It comforts you to feel him hold your hips, pulling you closer to eliminate any space.

"T-there's this feeling of wanting to feel warmth. I feel weird Haitham." You cry out while subtly grinding against his bulge. To have it poke underneath you is already satisfying. What more if it could be inside you?

"You don't know what you're doing to me" He says in a breathless tone, directing light whispers to your ear. "I can't exactly hold myself back. You can go if you don't want to do this with me."

He's offering you an out.

At that, you scoff as you grind deeper against him, letting him hear your tiny moans just outside his ear; the liquid courage left in your veins makes you do things you normally wouldn't.

Anyways, intoxicated or not, you'd do anything just to have a taste of him.

You chuckle, delivering a rippling grind that was bumped by his risen dick. "F-for a man of your caliber, you're pretty dumb in sexual contexts."

You suddenly lift your skirt, letting him see your thighs and his hand immediately flew to it. The flesh he so yearned to caress was in the palm of his hand. And there you exposed the thin string of your lacy panty, bringing his hand to your secret part that's covered by the skirt.

Archons. You were wet.

"You think I want out? Fuck me."

Alhaitham failed to reply. He was too enamored with the wet feeling of your hole, his eyes keep darting between your face and what's underneath your skirt. He could see you liked it from the look on your face, and so he gives it his all as he pumps his fingers faster to gauge reactions.

"H-haitham stop! I don't wanna cum yet!"

"You will when I say so" He exerts dominance with just his deep voice, even more so he's the one fingering you. Alhaitham is the one in charge. You let out a whine higher than your usual voice, shivering in his hold as both of you feel the slow gush of cum.

"(y/n) you're amazing. so so sensitive."

You then kiss him on the cheek, head tilted with a smile. "We haven't even started. Wanna do this right here or go back?"

Alhaitham could still smell the sweet scent of flora, thinking about its effects. He actually wanted to do it right there for something risky but...

"Your call" He spoke and his gaze was affectionate as he returned the question to you.

Ever the longing for adventurous sexcapades, of course, you'll say

"Here. Fuck me here." Wrapping your arms around him for a tight hug, you bring him down with you against the blanket, giggling as the cold air hits your pussy together with Alhaitham's careful weight.

For two aroused individuals, it doesn't take long for the magic to be done. Alhaitham was very eager in undressing you; almost ripping your precious top apart like the tearing sound of your skirt. Not once did he break the lip-locking until you tapped his shoulder.

"Fucking hell? You can kiss-mmmph!" The man didn't even let you finish your compliment, because how could he? Your lips were swollen with your hair falling behind your back and the matching black bra decorating your torso was too pretty to remove, but he bets the mounds hiding was even prettier.

He shimmies out of his own clothing, flying them wherever they ended up. As you're enchanted by the removal of his pants, his sneaky fingers creep between your legs, slotting them above your panties, and checking how wet it is.

"Haitham!" You whine, sparks going to your cunt as his digits busy themselves on stimulating you. He needs to make sure they're wet enough, although deep inside he knows it's just an excuse to feel your wet pussy. He just can't get enough of how soft and stretchable it is.

Alhaitham groans, his hard cock becoming even more painful, aching for something to sink in. "Shit" He shivers, trailing pecks from your temples to both your nipples. "I'm gonna put it inside. Deep breaths darling. Red's the safe word."

The thick head suddenly intrudes at your opening, letting you feel the stretch that completely surrenders your body to his. As long as you're under him, you're in his care. Your Haitham won't let anything painful happen to his pretty girl.

"Y-you're big! Ahhh~" What should've been painful with someone of his large size has become pleasurable pain, probably thanks to the plant in your blurry periphery. It rouses you more and more as his cock glides within your wetness.

He buries inches deeper, shushing your grunts with sloppy kisses as he tries to fight the tightness. "Loosen up, it's alright." He says and you nod, letting his member push all the way through yet not hit the end.

"Deeper!-hah-you can still go further-AHHH!" You shriek. Eyes wide from Alhaitham's cockhead prodding at your deepest part. He was gaining momentum to slam his dick flush against you, letting out a sexy moan when he successfully does so.

He looks at what a breathless mess you are, just from merely entering he's unraveled you already. You shiver and throw your head back, the intense weight pulsing inside you makes you keen.

Alhaitham looks equally ravished like he's having a hard time moving back and forth—all thanks to how tight you are. "It doesn't hurt?" He asks, concern showing on his face and the slow pace.

"N-no. My pussy needs you more. Please!" You follow your sentence with a moan, feeling the wetness of sweat between your thighs and mixed substance from the both of you. Alhaitham nods and starts his game at a dizzying pace that rocks your vision up and down. Your moans start to vibrate too as you lay there and take his cock like you wanted.

"Haitham so good! Uh uh uh~" He picks up the pace, now feeling the easy glide against your walls from how wet you are. He pushes his hair back that falls on his face, focusing on where you're connected and the little bumps on your tummy when he knocks deep.

"Of course it feels good. You're dripping right now." Alhaitham talks while rocking his hips forward into your hole and you take note of the obscene pap sound his heavy balls makes against your skin. He leans down and nips you on the neck, showing some attention too on both of your breasts.

You tighten against him, squirming yet his strength in gripping your thigh coaxes you to calm down. "You know why it feels good?" He suddenly asks and you make a motion of squinting your eyes in confusion.

"Because you've been thinking about it the whole time, haven't you?"

"Ever since that day in the library—no." Alhaitham suddenly thrusts on the last word, exactly into your sensitive spot and it had tears springing to your eyes. "Ever since we met in that hallway. You've liked me...didn't you?" His cheeks flush red.

"W-what?" Your mind was too fucked out to process questions. But this seemed like an important one so you try and listen.

"Don't try to deny it (y/n). You're clenching so hard on me-ah fuck." The little flutters your walls make around his cock fuels him to pump and pleasure you harder. Alhaitham wants to be the one to give you what you want, what you deserve. No other man can see this view except for him, he'll make sure that he is the only thing you know after this.

You buck your hips up in tandem with his thrusts, whines falling out of your mouth as Alhaitham watches you transform into a cock hungry slut. You weren't even listening to him, and that's what he hates the most when he's speaking about something of importance.

"You slut. You weren't listening aren't you?" His tone had become dangerously low and you blink your eyes hoping some clarity would return to your mind. It's not your fault his cock is fat and long—

"(y/n)"

"I'm listening"

"Then what did I say?"

You don't reply and he clicks his tongue. You also watch it poke against his cheek, a sign that a man is ticked. "I'm sorry". An apology came out of nowhere but you deemed it was a good response to whatever he was talking about.

The length inside you slips away, something that made your eyes go wide into a pleading look.

"You don't even know what the fuck you're apologizing for." Then Alhaitham removes his cock inside you in one go. A moan rips itself out of you as you cry and kick his back with your toes, wrapping your legs around him tighter.

"No, please Haitham, put it in I'm sorry! You just feel so good—ah ohhh!" You sob then shiver as a puddle of white pools below, heating up in your body in embarrassment. And it doesn't help that Alhaitham is just staring at it with his stoic face.

"...You're unbelievable." He muses as he watches your abused cunt glisten, his dick twitching and begging to feel your warmth once again. You whine and sit up in an attempt to cling onto him but before your legs could move, he has your waist in a controlling grip and flips you over for you to face the blanket.

"W-why?" You stutter, legs shaking as they're unable to support your whole body on all fours. But Alhaitham doesn't reply and instead answers by prodding his tip at your entrance and burying himself to the hilt. You moan while the sheets are crumpled within your fists. You could feel the weight of his hands around your waist, his heavy balls making plop sounds against your ass as he rushes the pace to get to his high.

He's pretty sure you're too far gone with the way you're bucking towards him, whimpers mixed in with moans about how big he is and how good he is to you. He feels a sense of triumph upon corrupting you, gripping your chin to redirect for a sloppy kiss, barely able to contain himself with the way your tongue knocked on his own.

Alhaitham pulls away to see your glassy eyes and felt the need to pump his cock faster, fully making it his mission to make you cum while holding eye contact.

"Look at me baby, look at me while you cum. I'm the only one who can make you like this." The cockhead hits your spot and you scream, gushes of liquid going out from you as pleasure wrecks your weak body, shaking in Alhaitham's arms as he presses a kiss to your head, continuing to chase his high.

"Good girl"

"Haitham it's too much. I can't anymore!" You cried, squirming in his grasp yet he tells you to stay still, doing everything he can to finish inside you. You maintain eye contact with him, staccato moans vibrating with the impact of his thrusts as he suddenly pinches your clit, making you let out a yelp as squirts of cum embarrassingly come out of you.

In the middle of your haze, Alhaitham leans to your neck and sucks on your skin, whispering profanities and words that he would only admit in the heat of the moment.

His hips met against your ass, wetness coating his shaft as his abs flexes in each thrust. "I don't like it when you're with him—or anyone else." You realize he's talking about something important so you listen in, trying very hard to maintain sanity against the drag of his cock against your walls.

He's relentless, groaning as the flush of red deepens on his cheeks and at the tip of his ear.

"So remember that I'm the only one who gets to have you like this. You're mine (y/n), mine." He stills as a load of cum bursts inside you, filling you up nice and warm as you moan at his claim on you. He whispers another near your ear and his breath tickles along his large hands soothing your backside. "And I'm yours. I'm only yours, remember that too."

You let out a breathy chuckle, legs giving out along with your sore pussy that's still plugged with his seed. You turn to face him and he looked insanely good from your view, hair sticking to his forehead and a body that overwhelmingly covers your own.

"You're so obsessed with me, nerd." You jest, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before slumping against the ground, fatigued and dirty from the sex.

[timdrakesbussy]

Some of my™ Stardew Valley HCs

TW: mention of miscarriages

Emily listens to all kinds of music but despite not looking like it, she mainly listens to heavy metal. It's one of the thing that brought her and Shane's early friendship together. And because of that, Haley shares a bit of fondness to the genre that she enjoys Sam's band (but don't tell him. this will mess with her rep).

Sam is pretty educated when it comes to literature, and English was always his favorite subject when he was in school. He's the main songwriter of his band and while Sebastian could also write, Sam manages to be witty and clever with his lyrics. Other than storytelling through song, he loves his double and triple entendres. Suffice to say, he could get along pretty well with Elliott and it's one of the reason why Penny loves hanging out with him.

Ever since she was a child, Maru thinks that Sebastian is really cool and she wants to be like him one way or another. Of course, she still wants to be herself but Sebastian is just so damn cool. During her time at school, she made herself learn how to ride a motorcycle using a friend's bike because she knew Sebastian would never lend her his.

Elliott was from an esteemed family from a foreign land (just Stardew's equivalent of Europe tbh) and was a licensed lawyer until he stopped to be a writer. Needless to say, his family are not happy by this sudden decision. Not that he needs their opinion on the matter, he was pushing thirty when he made this decision.

Harvey was an ER doctor in Zuzu City until the incident™. He knew that with his line of job, he can't save everyone. However, he can't help but feel guilty and terrible afterwards. Which is why he has routine check-ups for the villagers, and if they can't visit him, then he will visit them. You cannot escape him because he will find you (affectionate).

Both Haley and Alex believed that at one point, they actually liked each other romantically. But when they had their first kiss together, they realized that they weren't meant to be. They have this deep platonic connection that even Emily doesn't really understand, but she's happy that her baby sister have someone she can rely on and trust for all her life.

Robin takes pride in her name even if her parents weren't supportive over her work at first. She have Sebastian share her last name, and when she married Demetrius, she hyphenated their surnames instead of just taking his.

Demetrius and Sebastian were close when he was a child. Sebastian was an overly curious and precocious boy and Demetrius was happy that he could share something with his stepson, their interest in biology. Although Sebastian was squeamish and even almost cried when he dissected a frog, he managed to calm him down. And even after their mutual parting as Sebastian grew older, he's the only one who knows what Demetrius' favorite animal is: moonlight jellies.

Jodi and Kent were teenagers when they had Sam. Jodi came from a highly conservative and religious family so they forced them to marry after Jodi gave them the news that she was pregnant. As they were teens, Kent took any odd jobs he could get in the city, from a corner-store clerk to a garbage man. Until he got offered into joining the military.

Pam was a trucker before she became a bus driver. In fact, she met Penny's dad in the business. But in her childhood, she was in multiple beauty pageants and even into her adulthood, she knows how to hairdo. She helped Penny with her hair since she was a child and hope that she could still do Penny's hair in her future wedding, whenever that is.

Alex's mom had multiple miscarriages before she have him, and that was into her ten years of marriage. She was beyond ecstatic with his birth that she immediately called her aging parents who also shared her happiness, they then invited her to the Valley a few days after Alex was born so they could celebrate in the Mullners' house. Lewis heard about the news and asked if they wanted to celebrate in the Saloon in which Evelyn denied because Clara wanted a small celebration with just her family.

Abigail is the only marriageable candidate to be born in the Valley. Sebastian moved in not long after Maru was born so he was close to her as he was the only child her age at that time. Penny moved in when she was seven with her parents until her dad left when she was ten. Haley moved in when she was ten years old while Sam moved in a year after. Alex often visited his grandparents but he officially moved in after Clara's death in his pre-teens. The rest moved in as adults.

Similarly to Alex, Shane only ever visited and stayed for a while in the Valley until he needed to take care of Jas. He wasn't close with his parents and they never tried to be anyways, Marnie is always the mother figure he has. So other than Marnie and Jas, the only people he considered as his family was Jas' parents. Her father, whom he met and befriended in college (as he was his roommate, before they mutually dropped out) and her mother whom he wasn't very close to at first until they both find comradery in bullying (affectionate) Jas' father.

[sunkissedscribbles]

The Beach

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x poet!mentally ill!reader

genre: angst, a wee bit of fluff

tw: mental health issues, swearing

word count: 2008

summary: enzo comforts you when having a mentally rough period

a/n: my soul needed this one. i don't really want to label reader's mental state because in my mind bpd was the starting point but I think it would fit under the terms of depression as well, that's why I haven't specified it in the pairing (and because i'm not a specialist). also, it contains one of my poems I have not yet posted on my main.

playlist: The Beach - The Neighbourhood

masterlist

dividers by @chachachannah

It hasn’t even been a month since the new school year started, only two weeks. Two weeks got you utterly exhausted, and even that was an understatement. It felt like you had forgotten to talk, taking a little too long to answer, to process things – to think. Your head felt heavy with emptiness, your entire body ached as it didn’t seem to be able to release stress, holding onto it deep in your bones, low in your back.

It wasn’t just fatigue, it was emotional and mental exhaustion that made you want to lie in bed all day, yet your sensible side made you get up every day and go to your classes.

Those damn lessons.

You went to all of them, tried to siphon in as much of each subject as you could but your mind was elsewhere all the time.

At how sick you were.

At how tired you were.

And in the afternoons you did nothing other than lie in bed, trying to convince your mind that it was okay, there was nothing wrong with you, and that you needed to study.

Just five more minutes.

Oops, It’s been ten minutes ago.

Anyway.

You’re gonna start studying at next-hour-o’clock.

You didn’t.

At dinner you were only pushing your relatively small portion of food back and forth on your plate, your mind foggy with very negative thoughts as the chatter of your friends next to you blurred into an indistinctive mess of different voices over your head.

You were silent,

and lethargic,

all the time.

It was after dinners when you lay in bed, hoping this was a phase or something you’d eventually get over. But in the back of your mind, you knew you wouldn’t.

And you didn’t really want to, either – you felt so down, so numb that you felt like you couldn’t move in the direction of getting better.

Not properly.

Not permanently.

Lying there, alone, you couldn’t think of anything better than causing your own pain, physically – at least you’d feel something, wouldn’t you? Even if it’d hurt – maybe you’d deserve it. Maybe you’d deserve it because you had spent your entire summer not doing anything valuable, pushed down these feelings of despair, hurt, pain, depression. You didn’t study saying you couldn’t pay attention and you were tired – of course you were when you kept staying up endlessly, only getting mere hours of sleep and not eating enough.

Maybe you did deserve to feel this way.

You missed the affection, just a hug at least, from your friends. But you have been so withdrawn from them and they were all beating around the bush, not knowing how to corner the question of your visibly deteriorating mental health.

It was Enzo though, who paid the most attention to you; he knew you like the palm of his hand, even if you hadn’t realised it. He cared about you, probably more than he should’ve. He’d known all your mood swings, and even when you had better days, he knew you were going to be just as down, if not even worse in just a matter of days.

He couldn’t bear seeing you like this, he missed the carefree, loving Y/N you were. He missed his Y/N. Every word you spoke felt like a dagger to his heart as your tone only made it obvious just how tired and ill you were. Every time he saw you scribbling into your notebook he knew contained your poetry his heart ached, even when it was just two words.

He knew you were starting to give it all up.

Life.

You didn’t cry, and that was obvious – you’ve never been one to cry much or cry immediately when something relatively bad happened, or when it was something that you took too personally, nor when one of the bandages you thought were securely protecting your wounds were ripped off, not suddenly but slowly to hurt even more as it stuck to the surface of your heart. No, you took it, held yourself together, trying to maintain the facade you built so well and perfected over the years of suffering from whatever game your mind was playing with you.

Because the more people knowing you’re hurt the more able to hurt you.

Because the more pain you show the less people will think of you.

Because the more you trust the more leaving you and hurting you in the end, the more betraying you.

You were more on the bottling-up side, but the bottle always spilt in the end when it couldn’t hold more.

More suffering, more floating, more silence, more pain.

So, two weeks after your seventh and last year at Hogwarts had started, here you were, writing a new poem in the Astronomy Tower.

I find nirvana; I’ll exist in eternal peace, you wrote the last two lines, the cool autumn breeze in your hair.

“Y/N?” Enzo’s voice echoed through your ears, and closing your notebook, you looked up at him. This was the day the bottle broke – you’ve been crying before writing your poem.

Startled by your red eyes, he looked at you with concern. “Y/N, were you crying?” he immediately crouched down in front of you, and as he took your face in his palms gently, you could feel the dam break again. You didn’t like this. No, you couldn’t be crying in front of him.

“Just, uh, tired,” you answered in a low tone, trying to convince him – or yourself, rather.

He looks down at the notebook and shakes his head, “Liar. Let me see.”

You hesitated – how could you possibly show him what you were feeling? It took you weeks to be able to put it into words, and it’s not too happy. “Please,” he asked softly, one hand caressing your cheek, the other reaching down for the notebook in your lap. And you let him, knowing he’d get what he wanted anyway.

You saw his facial muscles twitch and tense up as he read its title, his hand falling off your face: ‘goodbye.’

His eyebrows knotted in a frown at first, glancing up at your once lively eyes, now missing the bright, pure shine they used to have.

You watched as his expression became sad and even more concerned as he breezed through your lines written.

these lines; I plan them to be the last ones I write and speak, so that I can be free in a world where pain doesn’t exist, where no clouds disfigure the sky. I go tonight; I don’t regret and don’t look back, I’m not afraid to leave anymore, I give up the fight, I end the war. i lie down tonight and drift to sleep, I unite with nature forever, and release the built-up hurt and pain. I find nirvana; I’ll exist in eternal peace.

“Y/N, you–” he shook his head as he lifted his head again, meeting your eyes. But you, you couldn’t look into his, you felt like you’d break immediately. You were afraid of what emotion would look back at you. Hurt? Sadness? Disappointment? Or would he look at you differently?

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, shaking your head, keeping it hanging low.

He cupped your face again to make you meet his gaze, gently yet forcefully tilting your head upwards. His eyes, as always had that caring look in them, mixing with concern, and a sense of fear that he’d lose you washed over him.

He’d lose you, before it was nature’s job to cross your path together, before he could even confess to you.

“...Why haven’t you told me?” he asked in a low, broken voice. Fuck, he couldn’t lose you.

You couldn’t answer him at first – how could you tell him that you’d been feeling like shit for weeks again? That the longer you’re alive the less you’re living? The more days you survive the more of your want to live, and the more of your shine you lose. you took a long breath and with a tremble tugging at your lips, you shook your head while a stray fat tear rolled down your cheek.

“Y/N, darling…” he pulled you in for a hug and as his arms enveloped you tightly, your salty tears started raining down your cheeks again, lading on the fabric of his hoodie.

“I’m sick…” you sob into his chest, not able to hold anything back anymore, not in front of him as your fists clutch the fabric on his back. “And I’m tired too.”

You weren’t fireproof, that was for a fact, and he knew it too, probably better than anyone. You didn’t want to burn in your own flames but you felt it, felt it burning you and spread over onto him, burning him too. You were holding on to him for dear life, hoping your own miserable state of mind wouldn’t murder you.

“...I hope I don’t burden you,” you trembled against his body and he held you tighter.

“You could never,” he assured you, shaking his head. “Never, honey. You’re not a burden.”

You didn’t need to say much, he’d known almost everything already. He just held you tight against him, as if you could just slip away and disappear if he wouldn’t – and the truth is, you could’ve, especially in this state. And you kept gripping his hoodie as you slowly calmed down in his arms, while his heartbeat gave yours a soothing rhythm to follow. 

You were slowly coming to your senses that felt numb all this time – his cologne was a nice mix of sandalwood and citrus which filled your nostrils and made you feel at home, even more at ease, his touch warm and soothing under your sweater, rubbing your skin through the thin layer of your shirt, his voice sending your mind into a state of contentment as he kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear, and yet again, you couldn’t help but wonder what his lips would taste like. You’d been friends for a long time and you didn’t want to ruin the relationship you two have built up over the years.

Then the three little words left his lips involuntarily; “I love you.”

You felt him stiffen against you as the realisation that he indeed said that out loud hit him, and coming down from your surprise, and trying to control your rapid heartbeat, you lift your head from his chest and meet his eyes. How could he love an emotional wreck like you?

“Y-you what?” you asked as if you hadn’t heard it right.

He gulped, trying to swallow his fear of rejection before repeating his words, “I said I loved you,” he led his hands onto your waist under your sweater as you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, but kept drawing you in lightly.

Without any further hesitation, you crashed your lips against his, afraid this was only a dream, hence wanting to enjoy every second of it and take it to the fullest.

His lips were so soft and moved so in sync with yours, and you wanted nothing more than to stay like that forever, wrapped in his embrace, with your lips connected, your tongues dancing around, making your mouths a ballroom, available for only them.

You pulled back just to come up for air and to clarify one thing. “I love you too.”

Your words sent a jolt of electricity and happiness down his spine, and he leaned his forehead against yours before reassuringly whispering to you, “I’m not leaving. We’re in this together and you can count on me, anytime, anywhere. Just- don’t shut me out. Please… I need you here with me.”

You nodded against his skin and let out a heavy sigh. You knew it would be a long way, a really deep dive. But until it was him swimming with you it didn’t matter that you were out in the open. It wasn’t a sudden light, a newfound wave of relief taking you out to the shore, but the beach seemed closer than ever. 

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mqstermindswift @reys-letters @girllblogging777 @myysunshine @yelanare

[qierxing]

Divinity

Yan! Zayne/Li Shen x Reader | Mythos AU CW/TW: Obsessive behavior,  Dub//con, Mention of attempted rape, spoilers for Zayne's mythos story

—

Your first mistake was staying.

In your defense, you didn’t have many options. Treason, even if falsified, meant that if you didn’t flee, meant that your body would be subjected to the most painful torture before dying. And you were much too cowardly for that.

At the time, you were desperate. Scared. Terrified for your life. So with fear and adrenaline rushing through your veins, you run to the one place that you knew the emperor and his court wouldn’t even think to look.

The Tower of Thorns.

In its freezing stone walls, you were safe from others, but not from him. 

People in court have murmured about him, the Foreseer. Old scholars with white long beards and wrinkled skin harped about tradition while old nobility scoffed and argued just what was the point of sending a royal envoy to their death. One of your friends at the time, a lady in waiting who knew how to read, told you that the Foreseer is meant to be Astra’s embodiment, according to the old texts. All this simply did not prepare you for what he actually is. 

“It seems you’re well acquainted with the flowers.” The low, curt voice makes you freeze for a moment, but only a moment.

“This unworthy one has had experience with tending flowers.” is your quick, demure reply. Only really watering them though, nothing like what the palace gardeners do. But still, you did enjoy taking care of the various jasmines, plum blossoms, and begonias in the pretty courtyards and chambers back then. 

More so than being suffocated by the cold, unfeeling blizzard that the Foreseer brings with him.

When you had stepped into the throne room, there indeed sat a body upon the grand throne. You had stepped closer only to find to your muted surprise that the body was encased in ice and prickly dark thorns. No signs of life whatsoever. That was as far as you wanted to check, and you were too relieved. Surely he wouldn’t notice if you took refuge here?

The flowers had been something that you took up to pass time. You didn’t know how long it would take for things to blow over, until the wanted posters were no longer calling for your head. And the buds peekings through the weathered cracks of stone inspired you. It had only been a matter of finding a container, then some snow that had melted into clear water. After that, it was practically routine for you to stop by the balconies to pay a visit to them.

It was when the first buds bloomed into beautiful osmanthus flowers that the Foreseer deigned to do something about the stranger that had invaded his domain.

A chilly wind blows and you shiver. You hated how cold it was here. You missed being back in the city, where the sunshine felt like a companion. 

“If you’re cold, you should come back inside.” The voice draws closer and you tense. “As a human, you are more prone to getting sick.”

“This unworthy one only wishes to finish their care,” you murmur, eyes still not leaving the glistening white petals. “Then they will return.” It had been awhile since you spoke court language, but it comes naturally. No matter how pretty the lotus is, they cannot hide the fact they bloomed from dirt, you thought with bitter humor.

The Foreseer doesn’t speak, but you can feel his disappointment, heavy enough to put pressure to weigh you down. You bow your head lower in submission, praying that it will be enough to appease him. The pressure grows heavier.

“Raise your head. You will only hinder yourself from properly watering the flowers.” 

You pause before you raise your face just enough to see the collar of long, midnight robes. You tip the container again, letting water shower the vines and petals freely without flooding it all and causing puddles to form. You do this several times, around the whole foundation.

When you’re done, you hold the container and bow again before the Foreseer.

“Then, this unworthy one will go now.”

You leave without raising your head, back to the doors. It is only when you find yourself in the drafty hallways that you dare to start to run.

—

When the Foreseer awoke, you fell to your knees and kowtowed, begging for mercy.

But would someone who is meant to be a guide to humanity and the kingdom by extension, let a fugitive like you live?

He had only given you a long look, before declaring that he has no hostility to those who don’t pose a threat, and walked away. You couldn’t believe it, but you didn’t question it, only grateful he had spared your measly life. 

But then he started appearing at the balconies where you watered flowers daily. You thought it was simply to check if you really weren’t a threat but the days went on to weeks, and he did not miss a single day greeting you there. Watching with those flinty hazel eyes. 

“What are you doing?” 

It was cold and freezing within the tower, but it was not completely uninhabitable. You had managed to cobble together a fire under an iron cauldron. 

“This unworthy one thought you might need some food, venerable one.” You timidly propose. 

“I have no need for such things. I do not have mortal needs such as hunger, if you will.”

Your face lowers more out of humiliation, but a sigh follows after.

“Come, sit.” You start to protest, but the plate holding the stew is slid over to you. The Foreseer merely raises an eyebrow when your stomach growls loudly, making blood rush to your face and neck. You decide not to embarrass yourself further and eat.

The wind howls outside. Tonight, it seems there will be another blizzard again. Just as you dip the spoon into the bowl, he finally speaks.

“Why did you come here, if you’re not an envoy from the kingdom?” 

You stop eating. And here was the dreaded moment.

“I…I’m no longer welcome in the kingdom.” You say. “It’s why I came here to seek shelter.”

“No longer welcome?”

You laugh humorlessly, deciding to throw everything to the wind. Who cares anymore? It’s not like you were any less doomed if you didn’t spill. “Royal authority is absolute. One thing led to another and well…”

Hazel fragments flicker with silver in the candlelight and you quickly lower your eyes. 

“I see.”

It’s a neutral response. He’s not angry, nor sad. It has the apathy of an immortal who can no longer find a reason to care. In a way, you’re relieved. You don’t want useless sympathy nor undue anger. 

His hand reaches out and you flinch, pushing back your chair and nearly falling over. Flashes of leering dark eyes and gnashing yellow teeth flash by in your mind. The heady scent of sandalwood incense. Your skin crawling where he touched, reaching for the closest thing near you to make it all stop—

The Foreseer blinks in slow shock at your reaction. You heave yourself upright and bow low.

”A thousand apologies, venerable one,” you rush out. “This unworthy one will excuse themselves.”

In the end, the Foreseer is left staring at a half-eaten bowl of stew.

—

It’s been three months.

You know, because you scratched the days and weeks into a smooth patch of stone in your room, keeping track so you wouldn’t forget how long you’ve been here. 

Three months should be enough for infatuation to wane and bloodthirst to die down, right? Princes had more than enough options of courtesans and concubines to care about one lowly chamber servant.

When you walk into the throne room, the Foreseer is reading a scroll. It’s long enough that it flows over his robes and onto the ground, showing complicated characters that you don’t understand at all. 

(You wonder if your friend is doing okay. Maybe you could send her a letter to tell her you’re safe?) 

“What brings you here?” the Foreseer doesn’t bother looking at you, and this you were grateful for. His eyes felt like they could see all the way through to your treacherous thoughts.

“This unworthy one simply wanted to announce that they will humbly take their leave here and to once again offer thanks for your benevolence.”

His eyes snap up instantly. Scroll forgotten, he lowers it to his lap, eyebrows furrowing. 

“You’re leaving?” He softly asks with disbelief. You only blink in confusion.

“Yes, venerable one.” You bow again. 

Something shifts in the air. The temperature drops abruptly, and within seconds, you can see your panicked breath fog the air in front of you. When you take a step back, the winds begin howling against the tall windows, hail banging on them incessantly, as if screaming for something. 

His scroll clatters to the floor and you barely have time to react when he swiftly reaches out and grabs your arm.

“Please…” his eyes dim from the usual warm brown and greens of forests to the steely flint of gray. “Please, you can’t go.”

You thrash against his grip, but he uses his other hand to entrap your other arm and before you know it, he’s carrying you somewhere. Your heart hammers against your chest as you try everything to get free, but his unrelenting grip cages you like ice, preventing you from escaping.

It’s when your back hits something soft and plush, that you begin to scream. No, no, no, no—but it’s no use. Large hands encircle yours and drag them above you and your scream is silenced by a desperation that makes you kick your feet. You didn’t want this. How could this happen again? The Foreseer is not human, how could he lust for someone like this? 

“From the moment I saw you,” he gasped out between ravaging kisses, “I knew you were the one. I should’ve been better. Then, maybe things would have been different.”

Despite his cold skin, his tongue felt molten hot, tangling with yours in the most filthiest way possible. Your head gets light headed with the prolonged kisses stealing your air. As your struggling grows slower with your energy fading, his body presses down to take advantage. 

“And you are mine.” he keens in your ear, and you whimper in response. The yearning in his voice is so poignant that it nearly breaks you in, but you yank your head away in an attempt to separate yourselves. In response, he delivers a bite that makes you yelp.

Soon your hips are pinned into place by his and horror begins running through your veins. Even if you try wiggling, something hard and hot is pressing against your nether regions, lighting a terrifying thrill in your chest.

“I’ll keep you safe, no matter what, my dearest.” He softly whispers, as his hands tug your shabby robes off your shoulders.

You wonder if Astra would hear your prayers if you screamed.