#war of eagle and lion | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

melanchoire · 3 months ago

Note

idk if you’re request are r still open but could you pleaseeeee right a squid game au with karina where’s she’s a vip whilst the reader is a player who happens to catch rina’s eyes and orders one of the guards to ‘kill’ her but the truth is she just wants them to injure you so she could pretty much buy you and offers them a generous offer and takes the reader with her home to fuck her ofc-

HEAD TO TOE, WE'RE G-O-L-D, GOLD ──── yu jimin.

── ( ⚜️ ) in a high–stakes arena where the rich play with lives, karina's unhinged affection for a clueless player spirals into a thrilling pursuit of power and possession, as she wages a clandestine war against the elite who want to control the game—determined to make she hers in a landscape where loyalty can be deadly.

pairing. soft dom!vip!karina x sub!player!fem reader

warning(s). dark themes (blood, blackmail, guns, manipulation, wounds.) smut (cunnilingus, fingering, pet names, praise.)

word count. 6,9k

on the remote, windswept island off the coast of korea, where the air felt thick with the salt of the ocean and layers of privilege, karina stared intently at the massive screen that flickers unrelentingly in front of her. it projected scenes of desperation and grim determination, a macabre theater of survival that the elite of society had come to revel in as they reclined within the plush confines of their exclusive lounge.

the other VIPs —a cadre of wealthy men each shrouded in opulence and armed with an ego the size of their fortunes— prattled away around her, their voices a cacophony of bravado and crude laughter. their animal masks glinted in the dim light, each an embodiment of their own stunted sophistication: the bear, the buffalo, the deer, the eagle, the lion, the owl and the panther. karina, with her sleek, glimmering snake mask, had long stopped trying to fit into their ill–fitted notion of power. they bestowed her with the title of “black mamba” — a name that clung to her like an aura, representing both seduction and danger.

indeed, karina was like the serpent after which she was named. she navigated through the male–dominated realm of wealth with a grace that was lethal. a CEO of multiple chain buildings, her empire spanned continents, erecting glass towers that pierced the skies. she delighted in the art of negotiations, mastering the calculated dance of give–and–take, luring her opponents close like prey in her velvet–lined trap before swallowing them whole. boredom had become her only true foe, and thus she found herself here, in this disturbing yet exhilarating environment, where life and death were mere odds in a high–stakes game.

the room pulsed with energy as the VIPs loudly deliberated on who among the 456 participants would prevail in the intricate, ruthless challenges laid out before them. they were gambles in a world fueled by adrenaline and greed. fingers flicked extravagantly as large sums of money were wagered, laughter erupting akin to applause for a theatrical performance. to them, these people were merely pawns, skittish players manipulated by the whims of chance.

karina sipped her wine, the rich bouquet swirling over her senses, but there was no warmth in the glass. she let the crystalline liquid glide over her tongue, savoring the taste, yet it paled in comparison to the sensations she was accustomed to in her world of opulence. her golden snake mask, adorned with shimmering jewels, reflected the flickering lights of the room, but it only accentuated the dark aura that surrounded her. the other VIPs, a proud gathering of men adorned in various animal masks, were discussing their latest ventures and betting strategies with animated enthusiasm, their laughter booming like thunder against the backdrop of muted dread that enveloped the game they were spectating.

karina leaned back against the plush leather chair, feeling the weight of their stares. she was the only woman present—an anomaly among this cadre of wealthy men whose fortunes were built on the backs of the common people. each one was a titan in his own right, possessing more money than they could spend in several lifetimes, yet as she surveyed the colorful men in their masks, she wondered about the hollowness that lay beneath their bravado. they were captains of strewn empires, quibbling over who could win this sadistic game, their dispositions fueled by overconfidence and unshakeable egos. she snorted softly at their amusement, a derisive smile curling her lips.

“who do you plan to bet on, black mamba?” a man clad in a golden lion mask leaned towards her, his voice oozing with faux camaraderie.

karina turned her head slightly, her gaze flicking to him with what might have been amusement, but instead might have been a deep–rooted contempt for the mundanity of their discussions. “i’ll pass on the pleasantries.” she said curtly, breaking her silence — a strike of intention as elegant as the flick of a serpent’s tongue.

“c’mon, karina. we didn't invite you here so you could just sit there with your butt on that couch.”

karina turned her gaze towards the massive screen, which projected the first horrifying game of the night. a collection of desperate players, their faces a tapestry of fear and determination, stood ready for the fight of their lives. they were fodder to the insatiable piggishness of the VIPs—a spectacle that turned the brutal struggle for survival into mere entertainment.

“your instincts are keen, lion.” she replied, her voice silky yet piercing, like a viper poised to strike. “but i tend to reserve my bets for those deserving of my admiration.”

the lion chuckled, prattling on about the odds and potential outcomes, but karina felt her attention drifting. she wasn’t interested in the banal exchanges of these men; they discussed their wealth like it was their greatest accomplishment, flaunting it like peacocks. she preferred the power she held; the way she commanded respect in every boardroom, every meeting, every deal. wealth was merely a tool for her, one that created empires, sculpted architectures that defined skylines, but sometimes left her yearning for something deeper.

as she analyzed the players on the screen, she noticed one in particular—a young woman with innocent features that contrasted sharply with the stark reality of her surroundings. the girl shifted nervously, glancing around at her fellow competitors, her wide eyes brimming with a blend of anxiety and determination. there was something captivating about her essence—an aura of naivety that made her somehow endearing. it felt like looking at a delicate flower amid a sea of thorns.

karina felt her heart flutter eerily, straying from her hardened exterior. the girl’s spirit spoke to her in a way few could, a spark of light threading through the darkness that surrounded the entire game. it would be easy to dismiss her as mere fodder—she was just another desperate soul seeking the elusive promise of freedom. yet here she was, glistening like a diamond hidden among the rubble, and as she carried out her calculations of survival, karina couldn’t help but feel drawn to the story she was weaving amidst this tapestry of despair.

the lion called for her attention again, trying to ensnare her in another round of gossip concerning their bets. but karina felt herself slipping further away from them, her focus honing in on the girl. her thoughts transformed into a meticulous analysis, breaking down the tension radiating from the competitors. they moved like a pack of wolves, filling the arena with their primal instincts. each one’s strategy revealed their desperate wish for survival, but none of that had meaning until you chose the right person to believe in.

“what am i doing?” she muttered softly under her breath, snapping her fingers.

one of the guards in his pinkish–red suit materialized at her side, his triangle mask glinting ominously in the low light. a calculating young man who had been handpicked among the elite soldiers to serve in this twisted charade. “yes, ma’am?” he replied, cheeks around the edge of his mask concealing the knowledge of death that lurked behind his crisp demeanor.

“i need you to do me a favor.” she said, her gaze unwavering, steely resolve underlying her words. the guard would obey; they all did. her wealth commanded loyalty, but it was her reputation that ensured it.

“bring me the details of the players.” she instructed, her tone sharp and unwavering. “and ensure that the ones who seem the most intriguing make their way to my corner.” the guard nodded, his expression unreadable beneath the mask, and swiftly vanished into the shadows of the lounge. “but i want you to put in some effort with someone in particular. and you better do a good job.”

“fiind out more about the girl in the competition. the one with a naive aura.” karina instructed, her tone sharp and demanding. intrigue ignited within her, fueled by a thrill she hadn’t felt in ages. “i want every detail—her background, her motivations, her weaknesses. i don’t want a single scrap of information overlooked.”

“oh, do tell me who has caught your eye.” the lion interrupted again, too enthralled by his own drunken bravado to notice the shift in her demeanor. “she looks like she’s just waiting to die.”

snarling inwardly, karina felt the sting of irritation clawing at her composure. “she looks like anyone who has something worth fighting for.” karina responded crisply, her voice sliding dangerously through the thick air, laced with reproach, “consider that next time you choose to gawk like a fool.”

several heads turned, intrigued by her sudden display of assertiveness. but she didn’t care about the flocking attention; she felt the familiar heat of a challenge flare up within her. several minutes passed before her thoughts were interrupted again—by the same guard who had been summoned earlier. cracking through her internal focus, he delivered, presenting a sleek tablet showcasing detailed analyses of each player, their backgrounds, and their potential weaknesses.

the guard nodded, committing her request to memory. as he moved back into the shadows of the room, karina returned her attention to the screen, her expression morphing from indifference to fierce concern. in the midst of blood-soaked chaos and merciless intent, there was this flawed creature, fighting for her life with a purpose she may not even fully comprehend. It invoked an emotion within karina—an empathic tug that ached like an old scar.

why did she care? amidst the avarice that suffocated her, a flicker of benevolence stirred restlessly. perhaps it was the girl’s resilience in this devil's game; perhaps it was simply an impulse to save someone beneath the weight of despair. for a moment, karina pondered the irony of her existence in this enclave of excess and power, a sentiment largely forgotten by these men as they laughed and teased, their masks disguising their insignificance in their perceived greatness.

would she risk her reputation, her wealth, to help the girl survive? her mouth curled again, this time in a contemplative smirk, a realization dawning on her—rescue could be a form of rebellion against all that she had come to loathe about this cruel game. in a world thriving on the indulgences of the wealthy, karina realized she might just have found a reason to play.

a voice broke her reverie, and she faced the men once more. “well, what’s it going to be, black mamba?” he boomed, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of potential profits hanging in the balance, oblivious to the stirrings within her heart.

“let’s see how this game unfolds.” she replied with a chilling smirk, her eyes betraying none of her internal turmoil, an intricate tapestry of wealth, boredom, and now—unwitting hope. As she settled into her seat, she could sense the adventure beginning, a plot still unwritten as the games played on.

karina turns to look at another guard. “and you, come here. i have a slightly more risky task for you. i hope you have fun…”

the scent of metal and fear hangs thick in the air as you awaken, the oppressive quiet of the giant room enveloping you like a shroud. the stark buzz of fluorescent lights hums overhead, illuminating a labyrinth of stacked bunk beds, some of which undulate with nervous bodies still cocooned in dreams. the ceiling is far above you, the dimly lit room stretching into shadows and uncertainty. bunk beds cascade down from the walls in chaotic rows, each occupied by a bewildered, anxious player. they glance at you, some with fear, others with a wild spark of determination. but none of their expressions give you solace. this is where you are: the squid game

you push yourself upright, blinking against the harsh light, your mind racing to stitch together the fragments of your recent past. the memory drifts into view like a haunting specter: it all began with a simple, stupid decision—a game of ddakji with the man in the suit. he had an air of disinterest, as if he watched your life dribble away like sand through an hourglass. winning felt easy, almost like a cruel joke; the slap that accompanied a loss had sent a wave of humiliation through you. but as he handed you his business card, you thought maybe, just maybe, this was a ticket out—out of your monotonous life as a cashier at a quaint cafe, a life spent earning pennies to help support your struggling parents. the card that promised a way out of your mundane existence led you here, to an unknown fate among 456 players wearing identical green uniforms. you had no idea that the card would lead you to this hell.

pushing those memories aside, you navigate the maze of players. your white sneakers touch the cold metal floor as you walk cautiously among the bunk beds. you try to consolidate your thoughts, recalling the night you were taken. the black van. the shouts. the fear that pulsed through your veins. you rub your arms, trying to shake off the cold creeping into your bones, when suddenly you bump into someone.

“i’m so sorry!” you exclaim, stepping back.

the girl before you towers over most, her deep–set eyes ringed with dark circles that speak of sleepless nights. kang saebyeok—her name rolls off the tongue like a haunting melody. you catch a glimpse of something in her gaze: a weariness that piqued your curiosity. but even in her state, she seems different, composed under the chaos surrounding you.

“it’s fine." she replies, her voice neutral yet tinged with a hint of something deeper.

amidst the suffocating expressions of panic, she stands tall, her dark eyes ringed with shadows that hint at sleepless nights and untold stories. she catches your gaze, an understanding passing between you — a connection sparked by shared dread.

“are you alright?” you ask hesitantly, your voice trembling against the silence.

as you share small talk, she reveals pieces of her past, vibrant yet dark. the tales of her childhood in north korea, the devastating epidemic that robbed her of family, the escape that still left her haunted. you listen intently, captivated, as she paints a grim picture of survival. but it isn’t just her battles that draw you in; it’s the faint glimmer of compassion that flickers in her eyes when she looks at you.

your paths diverge as you each retreat into your own thoughts. you sense an inexplicable bond forming between you, as if her pain resonates with your own deep yearning for freedom and escape. but your stories are different—intertwined by fate but separate in essence. you entered the game in hopes of helping your parents, to lift them out of the grasp of poverty, while she seeks a much larger goal: to find and rescue her mother, trapped in a nightmare of her own.

you feel the stark contrast of your lives: hers marked with survival against insurmountable odds, and yours a life filled with ordinary struggles. you weren’t a pickpocket or a defector; you were just a girl trying to help her family.

but you sense something in her, an empathy, as if your vulnerability reminds her of her younger brother, all dreams and innocence, much like you. it pulls you toward her, igniting a flicker of hope that there is someone here for you, and in this monstrous place, companionship becomes your refuge.

then the voice booms again, and you’re ushered towards the outdoor arena, the cold air biting at your skin. you can see a large, eerie doll looming at the far end—a haunting figure with oversized eyes painted in a way that could front a nightmare. it looks so innocent yet so deadly.

“welcome to your first game: red light, green light!” the announcer’s tone is devoid of any genuine warmth, slicing into your resolve.

a collective gasp ripples through the crowd. you glance sideways to see saebyeok’s expression: determination mixed with a flicker of fear. the giant doll, younghee, stands ominously at the other end of the field, its haunting eyes carefully tracking each player as they formulate their plans for survival.

“listen carefully.” saebyeok urges, leaning close to you. “when it’s green light, run. when it turns red, stop. but just before it calls red light, slow down for a moment. it’s all about timing.”

you glance to your left and see saebyeok, her posture tense yet alert. the moment the game begins, time seems to stretch. the doll’s voice booms out, “green light!” and adrenaline surges through your veins. you take off, feet pounding against the ground, the illusion of safety fueling your determination.

another shout. “red light!” you freeze mid–run, adrenaline turning to ice in an instant. you see players wobbling and stopping awkwardly around you, just trying to stay still. the tension in the air tingles across your skin. in the pit of your stomach, dread settles like stone.

you sprint forward, the fear of elimination driving your legs to move faster than ever before. a surge of adrenaline propels you closer to safety, but as your eyes dart from the doll to the finish line.

you remember saebyeok’s warning — you feel the momentum pushing you forward despite your mind screaming for you to stop. you lock your muscles, your breath catching as you freeze. but another sound pierces the tension; your heart sinks as you hear the vicious crack of a gunshot. agony blooms in your thigh, a needle of fire that overwhelms you, forcing a muffled cry from your lips.

you gasp, heart racing, as your body betrays you. you could scream—there’s a storm of panic within, mingling with blood pooling around your leg.

panic erupts around you, players rushing, some dropping to the ground, their hopes extinguished. you want to scream, to cry for help, but gihun, a fellow player crouched beside you, who previously placed his forearm across his mouth. “don’t move! stay still!”

every word he utters vibrates with urgency, a mix of fear and steely resolve. writh blood seeping from your wound, the world around you begins to fade as your strength wanes. darkness edges into your vision, but you fight to stay present, wanting nothing more than to push through — for saebyeok, for your family, for the chance to escape this hell.

“green light!” echoes the voice again, and saebyeok darts across the field, her eyes locked on you.

your vision blurs, but through that haze, you see saebyeok dashing toward you, defying the chaos, defying the rules. “hold on!” she shouts, voice fierce and full of urgency.

another player crouches by your side, his expression a mix of horror and determination. “don’t move… just hold on!”

saebyeok arrives, scooping you upwards, as if you weigh no more than a feather. there’s a desperate strength in her—a promise of protection that pulls you from the abyss. together, you and saebyeok reach the safe zone just as the surrounding shouts of horror and despair fade into a distant echo.

fear melds into gratitude as you look up at her. The realization flickers across your mind—this girl, this strong-willed stranger, cares. she won’t let you surrender to the darkness swirling around. as others rush toward you—concern etched deeply on their faces—you meet saebyeok’s eyes, putting all your hope into that very glance.

but before you can articulate your gratitude, a guard appears next to you. the cold metal of his revolver snakes through the air, and with a swift, brutal strike, everything dissolves into darkness. the world blurs, enveloping you in an unforgiving void.

you wake up dizzy, your heart racing and breath shallow as reality begins to uncoil around you. the world swims into focus: you are lying in the back of a remarkably expensive car, the leather seats firm beneath your body, yet far too soft for your liking at this moment. the familiar ache in your thigh is still there, throbbing painfully, a stark reminder of the chaos you just escaped—and yet, there’s a noticeable tension around the injury. you glance down, and your eyes widen as you see a piece of cloth wrapped tightly around your thigh, fashioned in a makeshift tourniquet style. a towel, stained dark red with your blood, absorbs the warmth of your injury.

turning your head with effort, you peer over toward the front seat, where the driver sits, her hands gripping the wheel with quiet determination. your breath catches; she has sharp yet elegant features, a woman with an air of unpredictability that unnerves you. her dark hair cascades down her shoulders, framing her pale skin, but it’s the intensity of her gaze in the rearview mirror that sends a chill racing down your spine. she appears calm, unbothered by the gravity of the situation.

“where— where are we?” your voice sneaks out, hoarse and weak, your tongue feeling thick in your mouth.

the one woman glances at you momentarily before returning her focus to the road, her expression unreadable. in that split second, you catch a glimpse of the pain and resilience etched into her features. “you’re safe.” she replies simply, her voice low and steady, almost melodic in its resolve.

the word safe echoes like a haunting refrain in your mind, pulling you back to thoughts of saebyeok and the chaos of the squid game. perhaps it's the remnants of fear from the game still thrumming in your veins—an unshakable instinct that safety may be a fleeting illusion. you remember her urgent instructions and her fierce determination, the way she urged you to escape.

“saebyeok… where is she?” you manage to croak out. “Is she—”

“she’s fine.” the woman interjects, turning the wheel sharply to the left. the abrupt motion sends a wave of nausea through you, and you fight to keep your lunch where it belongs. “but she’s not important now. just focus on your breathing.”

“i’m someone who’s not interested in watching you die.” she replies, driving through a narrow, secluded street. “i want to help you and her, but you need to trust me.”

to trust her? the irony is almost bitter, after everything that’s happened in the game. desperation gnaws at your mind as you replay the memory of the guard who shot you—totally unexpected, coldly calculating. but the woman radiates something different. maybe it’s the calmness in her tone, or the familiarity that lies beneath her sharp exterior. it’s tempting. but trust is hard–earned, especially in a place like this.

before you can respond, a wave of dizziness washes over you like dark ink pooling in water. the pain in your leg blurs into a backdrop of discomfort, and your vision starts to dim. The last thing you remember is your head dropping back against the headrest, the sound of tires screeching against the pavement rippling through the veil of unconsciousness.

you awaken with a gasp, the unfamiliar softness beneath you bewildering. the scent of herbal tea lingers in the air, mingling with a sense of disorientation. your body feels different—lighter, perhaps—but the sharp, throbbing pain in your thigh propels your thoughts back to the last moments of brutality. the memories rush in like an uninvited wave: a dark room, masked figures, the echo of gunfire, desperation, and the struggle for survival. you sit upright abruptly, panic clawing at your throat.

your hands shoot to your legs, searching for familiar fabric—the green uniform that has defined your existence as a player in the squid game—but instead, you find the cotton texture of a loose white t–shirt. but then, a sharp pain in your thigh reminds you that you can’t move too swiftly. it pins you to the plush sofa where you lie, the cushions cradling your body as you cautiously shift. your hand brushes against your thigh, and you flinch—something beneath the bandage is throbbing, a burning sensation just underneath your skin. you hesitate, then gingerly push the cotton of the bandage with your fingers. an unsettling reminder of the bullet wound you had suffered during the game.

as you breathe deeply, trying to steady your racing heart, a voice pulls you from the brink of a spiraling panic. a woman stands in front of you, her silhouette sharp against the backdrop of an exquisite living room. she’s striking, with deep auburn hair cascading in waves over her shoulders, and her attire—a silk blouse paired with tailored pants—screams sophistication.

“i hope you had a restful sleep.” she says, a soft smile playing on her lips. “i’ve prepared some tea for you.” she states matter–of–factly, gently setting a delicate teapot and two ornate cups on a coffee table in front of the expansive, luxurious sofa. she gestures toward the opulent coffee table in front of the sofa, revealing a polished silver teapot and delicate porcelain cups, almost too beautiful for the situation.

you want to respond, to ask questions, but your words are lodged in your throat. the sharp pain in your thigh throbs again, and your body refuses to cooperate.

“you need to stay still.” she advises, her voice low and soothing yet commanding. you can’t help but comply, your instincts telling you that defiance could lead to consequences you’re not ready to face. “the wound needs my attention first.”

the casual authority in her voice suggests that there’s more power in her small frame than you might comprehend. as she approaches, you can’t help but return to your previous survival instincts—should you trust her?

with that, she kneels beside the sofa, drawing your attention downward. you watch as her cool hands delicately examine your thigh, her fingers brushing over the bandage, careful not to apply pressure. the intimacy of the act sends an unexpected shiver down your spine, igniting a spectrum of emotions within you. she pulls out a small kit, pristine and organized, revealing instruments that slice through the nerves of your apprehension.

as she kneels beside you, the weight of your vulnerability hovers between you, and an unsettling mix of gratitude and apprehension blooms in your chest. “you took me out of there.” you whisper, realizing the implications of her actions. “but why?”

“because i can offer more than survival. i can offer a life.”

the first touch is gentle—a sting, but not unbearable—as she removes the bandage. you wince but remain silent, your gaze fixed on her intense focus. as the cloth comes off, pain lashes through you like a whip, spiking through the haze of confusion. you grit your teeth, the sight of your injury—a jagged bullet wound—is startlingly graphic. it sends a wave of nausea through you, but karina’s touch is gentle, almost comforting, as she surveys the damage.

you can feel the edges of her fingers as she applies antiseptic, a sharp bite that trails warmth as it spreads. the contrast leaves you breathless, a wave of sensations battling in your mind.

“hold on, this might hurt a bit.” she warns softly, and without hesitation, she begins to remove what’s left of the bullet from your thigh. you gasp, the pain surging through your body like a wire crackling with electricity. you feel your grip on the sofa tighten, knuckles whitening as you suppress a grunt.

“there we go,” she murmurs, her voice laced with a strangely comforting cadence. “you’re going to be okay.” with expert precision, she extracts the jagged piece, placing it gently aside. as she applies a new bandage, you can’t help but catch glimpses of her calm demeanor. the way she moves is both careful and confident, a jarring juxtaposition to the chaos you had just escaped.

“i have some experience with these kinds of things. you’d be surprised what money can buy in terms of expertise.”

“money doesn’t matter anymore.” you insist, wanting nothing more than to push through the oppression of helplessness and reclaim your freedom. “there’s no way out of this.”

when she finishes, she sits back on her heels, allowing you a moment to collect yourself. Your breath steadies, though your heart pounds, both from pain and the surreal circumstances unfolding.

“oh, but there is—if you choose to play your cards right.” she coos, her voice almost a sultry whisper as she pours a cup of tea, carefully handing it to you. “much more than your little coffee shop will ever pay you. just think of your parents. what if i told you i could change your life? make sure they never worry about a thing again?”

the room falls into a heavy silence. then, with a twitch of her mouth, she leans closer, her face just mere inches from yours. “you know, i could offer you a lot more than you make working as a cashier in that little coffee shop.” she states, her tone shifting into something more alluring. “you could have a life free from worry, free to take care of your parents without the constant struggle.”

you swallow hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you. the allure of an easier life tempts you, especially when you think of your parents. but there’s always a catch. with karina, everything comes at a price.

you sip the tea, feeling it warm your insides, yet the unease inside you doesn’t dissipate. Understanding dawns on you, but you wish it wouldn’t. “what’s the catch? what do you want from me?” you finally ask, barely above a whisper, daring to look her in the eye despite the unease thrumming in your veins.

iarina smirks, her eyes glinting with predatory delight. “nothing too complicated. be my partner in this little enterprise i’m building. utilize your skills from the game. you know the ins and outs of manipulation and survival better than most.”

the implication hangs heavy in the air, the predatory nature of her offer sinking into your consciousness. “you want me to work with you on something illegal?” you ask incredulously, heart racing. “you know what i am. what we’ve all been through.”

“in a way, that gives you more credibility.” she replies smoothly, her fingers now cleaning the wound with a swab, delicate yet firm. “people respect that type of history. i’ll pay you handsomely, far beyond your wildest dreams. enough to support your family, to elevate your status above merely surviving.”

her smile widens, and for a moment, her gaze holds yours fiercely, a burning intensity behind it. “just a little trust. a little cooperation. things can be… quite beneficial for both of us.” she leans in even closer, her breath brushing against your skin, warm and inviting.

the friction of your emotions collides: the urge to fight back against exploitation, against being used again, but the recurring reminder of your parents—their struggles, their sacrifices—fuels a twisted sense of acceptance. “and if i refuse?” you challenge, attempting to brave the interpretation of her intentions.

karina’s expression shifts slightly, a flicker of danger surfacing in her mischievous smile. “then i’d have to reconsider what to do with you, wouldn’t i?”

you watch as she applies an antiseptic ointment, the calm precision of her movements oddly mesmerizing. the tightness in your chest only deepens; you can feel vulnerability and desire intertwining together, as she leans in closer, the warmth radiating from her body washing over you.

“you see, this could be the beginning of a mutually beneficial relationship.” she whispers with a tantalizing smile, her breath laced with a floral scent.

before you can process her intentions, her lips crash against yours in a searing kiss, a sudden invasion that catches you off guard. you feel the world blur around you, the pain in your thigh forgotten for just an intoxicating moment as you succumb to the fervor of her kiss. it’s passionate, electric, filled with a raw hunger that ignites a yearning deep within you.

her hands find their way to your waist, fingers gripping you tightly as she draws herself even closer. In a confused swirl of emotions, you wrestle with your thoughts. reality clashes with the moment—the situation, the vulnerability, the manipulation—all exposed, stark and unavoidable.

as she deepens the kiss, you feel her hands move, groping at your sides with an urgency that sends an onslaught of conflicting feelings surging through you. it’s dangerously thrilling yet utterly terrifying. you’re caught between the lush fantasy she offers and the grim reality of what it all could mean—the depths of her manipulation, the shadows of power she wields.

when she finally pulls back, your breathless gasps fill the silence that lingers afterward. a mixture of confusion and desire fills your mind. “we both have things to gain here.” she states matter–of–factly, her cool composure returning, eyes glimmering with that same seductive control.

accidentally, karina places her hand on your injured thigh, earning a hiss from you. karina paused for a moment, her expression softening slightly as she took in your words. she stepped closer to you, her hand cupping your cheek gently as she gazed into your eyes. her thumb brushed lightly over your bottom lip, a tender gesture that belied her usual rough exterior.

“oh baby, i'm sorry... i forgot you’re still recovering.” she murmured, her voice uncharacteristically soft and caring. “don’t worry, i’ll be extra gentle with you, okay? i promise i won’t hurt you.”

she leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches from yours. her breath was warm and sweet, smelling faintly of peppermint lip gloss and the lingering scent of cigarettes. when she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“i just want to make you feel good. i want to worship every inch of your beautiful body until you’re trembling with pleasure. we’ll take it slow, okay? nice and easy, just like this…”

with that, she closed the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. her lips moved against yours with a tenderness that caught you off guard, her tongue teasing the seam of your mouth.

karina’s hands slid down to your waist, her fingers splaying across your lower back as she pulled your body flush against hers. she deepened the kiss, her tongue delving into your mouth to dance and twine with yours. the kiss was slow and sensual, a contrast to her usual aggressive nature.

she takes your wrist, guiding you to walk to one of the many rooms in the house. she walked you backwards until your legs hit the edge of her king–sized bed, the plush mattress cushioning your fall. karina followed you down, covering your body with her own as she continued to plunder your mouth. her kisses were intoxicating, leaving you breathless and craving more.

one hand slid down to the hem of your shirt, her fingers slipping beneath the fabric to caress the smooth skin of your stomach. she broke the kiss to trail her lips down the column of your throat, her tongue flicking out to taste your racing pulse.

karina nipped at your collarbone before soothing the sting with a slow lick, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin. she looked up at you with hooded eyes, her gaze smoldering with desire.

“tell me what you want, babygirl.” she murmured, her voice low and seductive. “tell me how you want me to touch you…”

“please karina. i need you so badly…”

karina’s hand slid higher, her fingers skimming over your ribcage before cupping the soft swell of your breast. she squeezed gently, her thumb finding your hardening nipple through the thin fabric of your bra. she rolled the sensitive nub between her thumb and forefinger, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp.

her mouth found its way back to your neck, her lips and teeth and tongue working in tandem to leave a trail of hot, open–mouthed kisses along your throat. she nipped and sucked at your pulse points, no doubt leaving marks that would linger for days.

karina’s other hand slid down to your hip, her fingers dipping just below the waistband of your jeans to tease the sensitive skin. she traced lazy circles, her touch maddeningly light and teasing.

she pulled back slightly to look at you, her eyes dark and hungry as they roamed over your face. her hand slid up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

“i want to taste every inch of you.” she murmured, her voice low and rough with desire. “i want to feel you come undone beneath my touch, to hear my name falling from your pretty lips as you scream your pleasure.”

with that, she slid down your body, settling between your legs. she looked up at you with a wicked grin as her fingers found the button of your shorts, popping it open with ease. “lift your hips for me, babygirl. let me take these off of you.”

karina slowly peeled your shorts down your legs, her fingertips trailing along your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. she tossed the denim aside carelessly, leaving you bare from the waist down, clad only in your lacy panties.

she took a moment to admire the view, her eyes hungrily taking in the way the delicate fabric clung to your curves. she leaned in close, her breath hot against your inner thigh as she spoke. “fuck, baby... you have the most gorgeous legs i’ve ever seen. the perfect body.” she murmured appreciatively. “and this pretty pussy... i can’t wait to get my mouth on it.”

with that, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly dragged them down, revealing your glistening folds to her eager gaze. she let out a low, approving moan at the sight.

karina leaned in even closer, her nose brushing against your slick heat as she inhaled deeply. the scent of your arousal filled the air, and she let out a low, guttural groan.

“you smell divine.” she purred, her voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. “i bet you taste even better…”

she didn’t waste any more time, burying her face between your thighs and running her tongue along your slit in a long, slow lick. she savored your essence, moaning wantonly as she lapped at your dripping core.

karina focused her attention on your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of her tongue before suckling gently on the swollen bud. her hands gripped your thighs, spreading your legs wider as she delved deeper, plunging her tongue inside your tight channel.

karina’s tongue explored your depths, stroking and caressing your inner walls with skillful precision. she curled her tongue in just the right way, hitting that special spot deep inside you that made your back arch off the bed. pleasure coursed through your veins, setting your nerve endings ablaze.

she could feel your slick walls fluttering around her invading muscle, your body instinctively trying to draw her in deeper. karina obliged, thrusting her tongue in and out of you at a steady pace, fucking you with her mouth as she savored your essence.

pne hand slid up your body to palm your breast, kneading the soft flesh and rolling your nipple between her fingers. she pinched and plucked at the hardened peak, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core.

karina’s other hand slid down to rub at your clit, her fingers circling and stroking the sensitive nub in time with the thrusts of her tongue. she could feel you growing closer to the edge, your body tensing and trembling with impending release.

she pulled back slightly, her lips wrapping around your clit as she suckled greedily. two fingers plunged deep inside you, curling in just the right way to stroke that special spot with every thrust. karina fingered you hard and fast, her mouth never leaving your clit.

“that’s it.” she encouraged, her voice muffled against your flesh. “come for me. i want to feel you come all over my fingers and tongue. give it to me, darling. let me taste your pleasure.”

karina could feel your walls starting to quiver and clench around her plunging fingers, your body tensing as your orgasm approached. she doubled her efforts, sucking harder on your clit as she pumped her fingers in and out of your dripping cunt at a furious pace.

she could tell you were close, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps and your hips bucking erratically against her face. karina wanted to taste your release, to feel your essence flooding her mouth as you came undone.

with a final, hard suck on your clit and a curl of her fingers deep inside you, she sent you hurtling over the edge. your body convulsed, your walls clamping down like a vice on her invading digits as your orgasm crashed through you.

karina moaned loudly as your juices gushed out, coating her fingers and chin. she continued to lap at your spasming flesh, working you through your high as your pleasure peaked and then began to ebb.

finally, as your body went limp and pliant beneath her, karina slowly pulled back. she sat up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she gazed down at you with a satisfied smirk.

“that was so fucking hot, sweetheart.” she purred, her voice low and rough. “watching you come apart like that... it was beautiful.”

she crawled up your body to capture your lips in a searing kiss, pressing her mouth against yours and letting you taste yourself on her tongue. karina’s hand slid down to your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh gently.

“i’m not done with you yet though, babygirl.” she murmured against your lips. “that was just the beginning. i’m going to fuck you over and over again until neither of us can move. i hope you’re ready for a long night."

#yu jimin #yu jimin x fem reader #yu jimin x reader #yu jimin smut #yoo jimin #yoo jimin x fem reader #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin smut #karina #karina x fem reader #karina x reader #karina smut #aespa #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #aespa smut

667 notes · View notes

gazstations · 13 days ago

Text

Trying my hand at little scenarios involving hybrid/shifter!141. I tried to think of different creatures than I've seen for some of the boys, but some were too perfect to pass up. This is probably lame, but here you go...

TW: Quick mentions of breeding/pregnancy, obsessive behavior.

You're a thief that takes more and more risks every time. A sleazy man in a tavern gives you a contract to steal something worthwhile from the supposed dragon hybrid that lives in the mountains. You agree, maybe half a pint too deep.

You journey out into the woods later that week and find a looming cave. It's easy to enter. If you weren't blinded by your determination, you'd realize how suspicious that was.

The place is warm and full of gold, as expected. There are some other random treasures as well. You had never seen a dragon hoard before. It baffles you where someone even finds all of this stuff.

As you're elbow deep in one section of golden items, you hear a low timbre behind you. You happened to visit Dragon!Price right in the middle of his most intense rut.

And being in a rut means he obsessively hoards.

You don't mind if he adds you to the collection, do you? Maybe he'll pin you amongst his trophies and stuff you full of his clutch. He's been alone for a long time.

Safe to say, the news of your "death" spreads through the town when you fail to return from your excursion.

♡◇♡

You're the princess/prince of a struggling kingdom. The king and queen got dragged into a war they could not handle in order to keep their alliance with another neighboring kingdom going.

After the castle suffers from an invasion, your parents plead for the gods to send you protection. You are their only child and heir to the throne, they cannot lose you. They will hold off on making any marriage alliances in exchange for peace as long as they can.

Gaz appears on the steps of the castle one day. He exudes a regal energy and seems to know everything about you instantly as his heartfelt eyes analyze you closely. He's a cross between a lion and eagle, and his wings alone are majestic.

Your parents are overjoyed. The gods must have sympathized with them to send a Griffin hybrid. They take it as good fortune.

They don't seem to mind as Gaz slowly imprints on you. Giving you soft, newly preened feathers. Tucking you under his wings whenever you're exploring. Marking you with his scent in every way.

Griffins are known to protect treasure. And even once the war is over, Gaz knows he's not letting you go.

♡◇♡

Every time someone has died in your village, you see a large black wolf right before. The thing is emaciated, though doesn't seem deterred in the slightest. He's lithe and quick regardless. The village has taken to calling him Ghost.

You often find him prowling the graveyard whenever you go to visit a family member who has died. The pup watches from a distance, and when you end up crying, the canine howls for you. You swear his eyes glow orange in the gloom of the graveyard. For a feral animal, it sure is interesting.

You always try to find his den. It must be somewhere in the premises of the graveyard if he's always there. Your bleeding heart tells you to help the poor stray.

One time, you manage to catch the bastard and he whines the whole way. He nips at the heavy leash you've subdued him with. You manhandle the beast into your little cottage and drag him to the bathroom.

Your bathroom didn't survive the wolf's stubborness.

He reluctantly jumps up onto the bed with you that night, and when you scratch behind his ear he lets out a bitter chuff as he leans into it and wags his tail.

Just don't scream too loud when you wake up to a grown man wrapped around you. He smells oddly like death.

♡◇♡

There's a seal that won't leave you alone. It chuffs and flops on the floorboards of your simple fishing boat, making it rock slightly as you stare the creature down. You're unsure of whether or not to play submissive or be intimidating.

The seal stares at you with big eyes, nostrils flaring as it analyzes you. It doesn't seem threatened, scared, or really anything. It's just one very big seal that lumbers around.

He dives back into the water after a little bit, and you sigh in relief.

But he shows up every time you're out. Blubbered form hitting the deck and glistening under the sun. You grow wary less and less as the visits continue. You even offer him some fish from the collection you already caught.

You, admittedly, become attached to the creature. Not many people can say they befriended a seal.

And the oddly docile animal takes your affection and runs with it.

One day, you wander down to your docked boat in the cove and find a man lounging against the edge. He fiddles with some ocean worn charm as he hums to himself.

The man beams when he spots you. You don't notice the pelt he leaves on the floor as he walks your way.

You arrived in Johnny's life just in time for mating season. At this point, he doesn't care if you take his pelt. He will purposefully "lose" it and have it magically appear somewhere in your belongings.

150 notes · View notes

sapphicandgraphic · 2 months ago

Text

The Girl Next Door—Chapter 6

Synopsis: A new neighbor turns Melissa’s world upside down.

Chapter: 6/10 (The Dinner)

Series Warnings: Slow burn, angst, drama, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, protective Melissa, fem reader, age difference, WLW

Chapter Warnings: References to drug use and sibling rift, internalized homophobia if you squint, lots of angst and longing in this chap but I promise we’re gonna work thru it together!

Melissa walked into the teacher’s lounge with a spring in her step. She was staring at a message on her phone. Whatever it said made her chuckle, and she typed a quick response before stepping over to the kitchenette counter.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Jacob asked.

Melissa narrowed her eyes playfully. “None of your beeswax, kid.”

She hip-checked him out of the way, grabbing her favorite mug and pouring a cup of coffee.

“Hot date?” Jacob wheedled, shaking a sugar packet back and forth. Melissa hadn’t mentioned anyone by name, but the last few days she’d been glued to her phone in the staff lounge, a fond sparkle in her eyes.

“Maybe,” she said, unable to keep the smile off her face.

“Omg.” Jacob clapped a hand to his chest. “Who is he?”

Melissa faltered, but only for a second. “A paramedic.”

“You really have a thing for the emergency service community,” Gregory intoned, not looking up from the newspaper he was leafing through.

“No kink-shaming,” Jacob reminded him in a sing-song voice. “This is a safe space.”

“It’s not,” Gregory replied flatly.

Janine wandered in next. “Good morning, peers and mentors!”

“Melissa has a secret boyfriend,” Jacob announced without hesitation, almost vibrating with excitement.

Janine rounded on the redhead and the interrogation kicked into high gear:

“What’s his name?”

“Do you have any pictures?”

“Where did you meet?”

“Where is he taking you?”

“Enough!” Melissa cried, starting to regret sharing her private business with these jamokes. “It’s just dinner.“

All week she had looked been looking forward to your “date”. Sure, neither of you had officially called it that. But after exchanging numbers, the texting had turned…flirty.

It started when you got a late night notification from Melissa. You were on shift, a little distracted, and quickly scanned the message (What are you wearing?), trying to ignore the pleasant flutter in your belly.

My uniform. You?

Melissa was momentarily confused by your response, then laughed out loud before typing back.

No, idiota. On Friday.

You closed your eyes, mortified. “Oh my god.”

Boone fiddled with the radio dial. “What is it?”

Melissa, who had been standing in front of her closet, sank onto her bed. She couldn’t quite resist teasing you and typed a quick follow up.

But since you clearly wanna know, I’ll give you three guesses what I’m wearin right now…

Your brain went staticky as a dozen mouth-watering images materialized in your mind’s eye. Melissa in a red negligee. Melissa in a black satin robe. Melissa in a thong. Jesus. The redhead made you feel like a teenage boy.

Your fingers shook as you typed your first guess, trying to play it cool.

Hmm…French maid’s outfit?

Melissa settled back on her pillows feeling almost predatory, like a lion closing in on a gazelle.

Nope. Mine’s at the dry cleaners this week.

You chuckled and Boone glanced over. “What’s so funny?”

You ignored him, eyes glued to the new text on the screen.

Guess again.

You looked out the window, thinking hard.

Eagles lingerie?

Melissa grinned before firing back.

Go birds. But no.

You chewed your lip, wondering how far you could push this.

Can I get a hint?

Melissa considered your request. Opening her camera, she held it just above her chest and snapped a quick picture. You gasped when it came through.

Melissa was looking directly at the lens, her face soft and makeup-free at the end of the day. Her hair was down, covering her shoulders, and the shadow of her cleavage was just visible at the bottom of the frame. She might have been wearing nothing at all.

You felt a pang of warm desire gathering in the pit of your stomach as you formulated a reply: Is this a trick question?

She typed back three words: No more hints.

Your fingers hovered over the screen for a moment.

Birthday suit. Final answer.

You held your breath. Three dots appeared, indicating the redhead was typing, then disappeared for several long seconds, before reappearing again.

You wish.

You could almost hear the words in her throaty voice, taunting and warm. What did Melissa Schemmenti wear to bed? Had you ever wanted to know the answer to a question so badly?

The rest of the week passed in similar fashion, a slow chain of tortuous text messages building between you. By the time Friday night rolled around, you felt almost light-headed with anticipation.

Stepping out of your apartment, you walked across the hall and knocked on Melissa’s door. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you heard the click of the lock, the turn of the handle.

“Hiya, hon.”

She appeared in the doorway, wearing a mesh long-sleeve bodysuit and skintight leather pants that hugged her curvy hips. You tried not to stare, but couldn’t keep your gaze from flickering down to her perfect tits, nestled in a lacy bralette.

“Hi,” you managed.

Melissa grinned, enjoying the slack look of desire on your face. She stepped forward, almost at eye-level. The perfect height for kissing, some distant part of your brain informed you. Looking down, you saw she had on black boots with a wicked high heel. She slung a dark blazer over her shoulders and swanned past you.

“Comin’?” she called.

You helped her into the passenger seat of your car and then took off toward the restaurant, knuckles white from how hard you were gripping the steering wheel.

You had made reservations at a steakhouse. The host led you to a private alcove with a view of the water. Melissa looked around, clearly impressed.

“How’d ya manage this?”

“Called in a favor,” you admitted. “The chef owed me.”

You gave a brief overview of having once assisted a patron on the premises in medical distress, leaving out the more grisly parts about blocked airways, mouth-to-mouth, and expelled foreign bodies.

The redhead laughed at your abridged version of the story. “You’re full of surprises.”

The waiter came and you ordered, then sat back and considered each other across the candlelit table. That familiar chemistry crackled between you, thickening the air.

“You look beautiful.”

“Yeah?” Melissa ducked her head. “I clean up okay?”

“More than okay,” you insisted. “You’re…insanely hot.”

Melissa rolled her eyes, but preened at the compliment.

“Not so bad yourself,” she said, drinking in the sight of you. “I like your hair pushed back.”

Drinks arrived, followed shortly by entrees. You slowly relaxed, finding it easy (as always) to talk to Melissa. You had plenty of wild stories from living abroad and she was eager to hear them, laughing and gasping and interrupting at all the right moments. Likewise, you wanted to know everything about Melissa’s work. You loved the way her face lit up when she talked about the kids she taught, the other teachers on staff.

“Sounds like a good bunch,” you said. “I’d love to meet them, especially Barbara.”

“Yeah,” she said fondly. “She’d like you a lot.”

You felt a blush creeping up your neck and reached across the table for your wine. Melissa glanced down at your hand, which was still bandaged. Her fingers twitched, as though she wanted to grab it.

Instead she said, “Any word from your brother?”

For the first time all night, a different kind of tension fell across the table. You shook your head. “Think you scared him off.”

Melissa cracked her knuckles. “Damn straight.”

You chuckled, taking a bite of food even as your appetite suddenly waned. Thinking about your brother—about any member of your family—tended to lower your spirits. Melissa watched you carefully, patiently.

“We were really close growing up,” you said, tracing circles in the condensation left by your water glass. “But in high school we kinda drifted apart. You think I got authority issues? He makes me look like a choir girl.”

Melissa’s mind flashed to her dream (your mouth making its holy pilgrimage up the inside of her thigh) and she inhaled sharply.

“You ok?”

She nodded, tipping her wine glass back and taking a hasty sip.

“Well, anyway, when my dad…after that happened, Mikey just went completely off the rails. Got mixed up with the wrong people, got himself a hardcore habit, got arrested. And I let it all happen.”

Melissa watched as a weary cloud of self-loathing settled in around your shoulders, making you look so much older than you were. She nudged your knee with hers beneath the table.

“Hey,” she said. “It ain’t your fault.”

“I’m his big sister,” you protested. “And I left right when shit hit the fan.”

Melissa couldn’t stand the look in your eyes, hard and unforgiving. She reached out and took your hand in hers, tangling your fingers together.

“You had to take care of yourself in the best way ya knew how. That ain’t selfish, it’s survival,” Melissa said. “Besides, you were just a kid.”

Her warm touch thawed you slightly and you considered her words, the absolution she was offering, uncertain if you would ever be able to accept it. You traced the pad of your thumb back and forth over her knuckles, momentarily distracted by the memory of what it had felt like to have her arms wrapped around you.

“About that night,” you said, licking your lips nervously. “About what happened…between us…”

“Forget it,” Melissa interrupted, not unkindly. “You were upset. We both were.”

“What if I said I’d been wanting to do that for a long time?” You looked up, trying to gauge her reaction. “What if I said I wanted to do it again?”

Melissa took a shaky breath. Her eyes glazed over as she allowed herself to indulge in the fantasy of kissing you properly, the warmth of your mouth, the little noises of pleasure she’d pull from you. She felt that familiar gut-punch of affection and lust mingled, for the first time, with fear.

“I don’t wanna hurt ya,” Melissa confessed softly.

You gave her a lopsided grin, all hope and charisma and vulnerability. “So don’t.”

You realized you were still softly gripping her hand and brought it to your mouth, kissing each knuckle one by one.

“I got baggage,” she whispered, eyes glassy and glued to your lips as they traveled from one finger to the next.

“Join the club,” you said, moving to the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist and planting a kiss there, mapping the blue-green veins.

She shivered. “What if I can’t give you what you want?”

This last question came out in a jagged whisper, Melissa’s head tipped back slightly in pleasure. Your eyes flickered to the pale expanse of her chest and throat, dusted with freckles. You opened your mouth, probably to say something stupid, something you wouldn’t be able to take back, something that would scare her off for good.

Suddenly a busboy arrived to clear your plates, and the spell was broken by the gentle clatter of porcelain and cutlery and glass. Melissa snatched her hand away as if burned.

“Sorry,” you said several seconds later. “I know I promised not to do that again.”

The older woman looked torn, her normally easy smile tinged with uncertainty. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.

You paid the check and drove Melissa home, your feverish trance evaporating in the chilly darkness.

“Night cap?” you offered as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, even though you already knew the answer.

She shook her head, hair falling in a curtain to obscure her face. “Long week,” she said.

You lingered in the hallway, staring at your feet as she unlocked her door. Melissa turned around with every intention of letting you down easy, of telling you this was a bad idea, of insisting you deserved someone less damaged, less complicated. But as always, the sight of you wiped away every rational thought in her brain.

“Hey.” You looked up to find the redhead standing much closer than you expected. She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. Her eyes were closed as she swayed back, licking her lips. “Thanks for dinner, hon.”

You stood there for a few minutes after she had disappeared, rooted to the spot, more confused than ever. But the memory of her warm lips against your face was so clear, and the lingering cloud of her perfume so sweet, that for several long dreamy hours that night, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

>> Want to get notified when new chapters go live? Subscribe to my Patreon! <<

#melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary

56 notes · View notes

legendsoffodlan · 8 months ago

Text

No nuance, no middle option, no i'm bald, just war. Who's best?

#fire emblem #three houses #legends of fodlan #fire emblem three houses #Golden Deer #Black Eagles #Blue Lions #Ashen Wolves

141 notes · View notes

cultkinkcoven · 1 year ago

Note

hey there, would you mind telling me a bit about Lilith and your practice with her? I’ve been trying to do some research on her modern worship, offerings, and signs, but it can be really difficult to find anything that’s serious when there are so many references to her in pop culture :/

Okay so Lilith is extremely, and I mean extremely complicated.

Contrary to popular belief, “Lucifer” isn’t actually a name, but a title. The name Lucifer means “light bringer” in reference to Venus as she appears in the morning, but any “light bringer” can be considered a Lucifer. Prometheus for example, the man who stole fire from the Gods to give light to humanity, is a Lucifer. And so, there are actually many different entities that have taken the role of a Lucifer throughout history and in various different retellings. Eosphorus is the name of the deity that was revered by the Greeks as Venus, but Lucifer is a title that many different figures have taken on depending on the context.

Why do I bring up Lucifer? Because he and Lilith are very similar in that regard. Our earliest mentions of Lilith throughout history paint her not as an individual but as a species of night demon that frequently takes the form of an owl, she was known to bring crib death and miscarriage.

In the myth, Inanna and the Huluppu tree, a huluppu tree (a type of willow) is planted by the banks of the Euphrates River. The tree is tended and nurtured by the goddess Inanna, who plans to use its wood to craft a throne and a bed for herself. However, as the tree grows, it becomes infested with three troublesome creatures:

A serpent that makes its home at the roots of the tree. (What troublesome serpents have been portrayed in another mythology having to do with magical trees? HMM!)

The Anzu bird (sometimes described as a mythical lion-headed eagle) that builds its nest in the branches.

The Lilitu (a female demon or spirit) that makes her lair in the trunk.

Inanna, distressed by these creatures occupying her tree, calls for help from her brother, the sun god Utu (or Shamash). When Utu does not assist her, she turns to the hero Gilgamesh. Gilgamesh comes to her aid and, with his great strength, drives away the serpent, the Anzu bird, and the Lilitu. He uproots the huluppu tree and uses its wood to craft a throne and a bed for Inanna, fulfilling her original intention. Consider that it is a human, not the God of the sun, who helps Inanna with this problem. Interesting.

The inclusion of these three very specific creatures occupying this important tree tended to by the Goddess of love, to her dismay, are very important. Especially when he consider how Inanna’s visual depictions have been syncretized with Lilith. The idea of a serpent (perhaps a Lucifer) , an Anzu bird (described quite similarly to some depictions of abrahamic angels, specifically those like the cherubim) and a Lilith being “driven away” from this mythical tree are notable, especially because these are all symbols associated with Inanna herself.

Inanna, one of the most complex deities in Mesopotamian mythology, embodies aspects of fertility, love, war, and the underworld. Inanna's association with snakes can be seen in her connection to the underworld and her transformative journeys. In her descent into the underworld, Inanna removes one magical garment as she continues into the deathly realm. Just as the snake sheds its skin, Inanna sheds her power and identity as she descends, only to be reborn and restored.

Inanna is frequently depicted with wings, highlighting her divine nature and authority. The Anzu bird in the Huluppu Tree myth, while initially a source of trouble, also connects to the theme of overcoming chaos, which aligns with Inanna's role as a powerful deity who brings order.

Lilith, often depicted as a demoness, represents untamed feminine power, independence, and sometimes chaos. In later Jewish mythology, she is considered a night demon, but her roots trace back to earlier Mesopotamian beliefs. Her inclusion in Jewish mythology is summed up in the verse Isaiah 34:14: "Wildcats shall meet with hyenas, goat-demons shall call to each other; there too Lilith shall repose, and find a place to rest." (Hm… I wonder WHERE she will find a place to rest? Perhaps in a… magical tree?)

In Jewish mysticism, the feminine side of the tree of life is what creates the potential for evil. Even though it is the lightest, brightest, goodest form of feminine energy, for some reason, every time, disobedience pops up no matter what we do. It is an aspect of the feminine itself.

In the Huluppu Tree myth, Lilith (or a Lilitu) makes her home in the tree that Inanna nurtures. This connection reflects Inanna's association with both nurturing and taming wild, untamed aspects of the feminine. Lilith's presence in the tree also highlights the tension between order and chaos, which Inanna must navigate and control.

So what does this all mean?

Each creature in the tree draw direct parallels to the Goddess of Love herself. These can be interpreted as perversions of her divine nature, that she herself cannot be-rid of on her own. Inanna the Goddess of WAR couldn’t get an owl, a big bird, and a snake out of a tree??? Why? Likewise, why did the divinities refuse to help her? Why did she have to seek out a human specifically, to get those unwelcome guests out of her tree? And if it is so that Inanna just doesn’t really like owls and snakes, why is she represented with them (and generally just hanging out with them) so often?

Lilith, the serpent, and the Anzu bird reflect aspects of the divine mother that she herself cannot even tame. Lilith as the night owl also reflects an aspect of knowledge and wisdom, as owls can see in the dark and hunt strategically. Even though she is portrayed as an enemy of Inanna, Inanna never once can or even tries to harm her. Inanna being the Goddess of fertility, and Lilith being the demon that causes miscarriage, show that they are natural opposites, yet still derived from the same divine source, and never combative towards each other.

Similarly, Lucifer’s first ever depiction was as his role as Venus, the same astrological planet as what is associated with Inanna. In Christianity, Lucifer played the role of the serpent who convinced Eve, another archetype of divine femininity, to eat the forbidden fruit of knowledge. Interestingly enough, Lilith is never actually portrayed eating the fruit. Does she posses a divine knowledge that is inherent to her qualities as a night owl, to the point where she didn’t need to eat the fruit to have the wisdom to disobey Adam? Does she possess a knowledge that is inherent to the divine feminine force from which she was created? Is this because she was created from the divine forces of femininity itself and not derived from man, as Eve was? If this is the case, that even though Eve ate the apple, she did not become a Lilith, that stands to imply that there is an inherent quality about being derived from a human man, that repels or deflects that inherent feminine rebellious quality. Instead, being replaced with the the ability to submit.

Knowledge applied with the associations of night and mystery, create a feminine energy that cannot submit, and this is likely Inanna’s fault herself, as she very notably has a big issue with respecting any authority higher than herself, even death herself (as her big sister)

From a symbolic standpoint this tells us a couple things about Venusian energy in general.

1.) Regardless of how hard it tries to behave, it is inherently chaotic

2.) It has many faces, some of which do not jive with eachother, but even so, they continue to coexist, even if not in the same places

3.) It is a creator and a destroyer.

4.) It has a very rough time with the concept of submission.

Okay YAP fest, what’s the point?

Lilith is a great example of how the dark feminine exists within the light feminine as an inevitability. Lilith is not so much associated with war, the strategic enactment of violence., but rather the inherent unpredictability of femininity. Women both create life and snuff it, women can decide to procreate or to have an abortion. Lamashtu and Lilith respectively were invoked for abortive purposes.

And of course, Lilith’s adoption by feminist spaces as a self actualized protector of individuality and feminine rage also invoke heavy associations with Inanna as the Goddess of war. So in my interpretation, Lilith is that part of Inanna that went a little unchecked for a little too long. That combined with the themes of Lucifer’s liberation, paint a very interesting narrative about how femininity as a divine force shows up in obscure ways, perhaps even negative ways, whilst still being just as divine and inherent. To recognize Lilith as the antithesis of all of these things, is to see her as the unwavering aspect of femininity that cannot be tamed, even by femininity herself. The snake, the reborn, will always cause chaos at the root of the feminine energy. The Anzu bird, the angels, are susceptible to that same corruption. And the Lilith herself will always find a home within that feminine energy, unless of course, she is snuffed by the will of a man who doesn’t respect her. Still, she does not die, just searches for another place to rest.

Wow this was really long. SO. Lilith is the entity that embodies our biggest fears about femininity and the inherent knowledge that women posses. Women know how to create life, and women have the ultimate authority in ending it. To honour Lilith as a Goddess rather than a troublesome demon, is to recognize that even the parts of femininity that femininity herself can’t control are divine in nature. The knowledge that she possesses makes women incapable of submission. And the Gods themselves are aware of this, and do not interfere with her, because she is a Goddess herself carrying out an important function, even if it doesn’t adhere to what they might like. Basically, rebellion is an inevitability to any feminine creature that possesses knowledge. It is unavoidable.

It’s incredibly difficult to find anything about the worship of Lilith because for a long time she wasn’t given her flowers as a divinity. Even Inanna herself tried to get her to fuck off. You can honour her quite similarly to the way Artemis and Athena were worshipped, alongside Inanna or Aphrodite of course. As the dark, mysterious, yet inexplicably wise mother of demons, she is the creative force behind destruction. She’s the aspect that exists in all of these Goddesses, that most of us would rather not think about. She is a woman who cannot be held in captivity, if you tell her to procreate, she will cause miscarriage. If you tell her to obey, she will become even more rebellious. The more you repress her, the stronger she becomes. No matter how oppressed women become, no matter how subservient, so long as they have any connection to the divine feminine, they will have a Lilith inside of them.

Lilith’s representation of a succubus expands upon her associations as a woman who does what women do, (men thought women were sex objects for a long time) but not for the sake of cooperation, but for her own means. Lilith is very much a woman, capable of doing what all women and feminine goddesses can do. She simply chooses not to, similarly to how Artemis simply chooses not to procreate. The element of choice, (hello again, Lucifer) always being an option to women is, from a patriarchal standpoint, really scary for men.

So how do you worship her? Worshipping Lilith, like Lucifer, is technically paradoxical. Lucifer wants us to worship ourselves. If he accepts worship it’s because you’re using him as a metaphor for yourself. Lucifer believes in no man submitting to no God, so he won’t take on the role of the usual “authority”. Lilith is quite similar, to worship her is to worship the wise and rebellious spirit that exists in the feminine- yourself. Self honouring acts honour Lilith, just as they honour Lucifer. It’s important to remember that Lilith isn’t just rebellion for the sake of arguing, she isn’t a contrarian. She is self actualization that just happens to not go with the status quo. She does what she wants, if that pisses you off: cope. She’s not inherently against men or procreation, or even women who are submissive. She is the constant exception. The random variable that always pops up whenever we deal with feminine deities. So for me, I honour her as an extension. of every existing goddess. Within Inanna, there is a Lilith, as there is within Aphrodite, Hera, Artemis, Athena, etc etc.

Wow this was long as fuck but I hope it provided a little bit of insight as to why Lilith is so fucking confusing. Regardless of which contexts you feel are the most true, Lilith, like all deities will continue to evolve with time. Just as the narrative around Medusa has gradually changed into her being a victim instead of a monster, Lilith has shifted from being a demon that just kills babies to the ultimate personification of feminine independence. All of these interpretations are correct in the right context, you just have to figure out which context best applies to you.

OKAY if you actually read this far here’s a flower 🌹

#lilith #lilith deity #witchcraft #magick #paganism #pagan #occultism #witch community #witch aesthetic #witchblr #demonology #grimoire #lucifer #inanna #luciferian #goetic demons #goetia #mythology #syncretism

195 notes · View notes