#(I THOUGHT I WAS AN ATHEIST UNTIL I REALIZED I'M A GOD)

[rynwritesreid]

Take a ride| Spencer Reid

A/N: First of all, I hope that this is suitable compensation for everyone affected by my last fic. Second, my next non-requested smutty upload will be Sub! Spencer. And lastly, thank you so much for all the love guys, I am slowly working through your requests. Jag älskar dig 🫶🏼

Summary: You love to challenge authority, always knowing when to stop pushing buttons. However, you decide to see how far you can push Spencer before he gets angry enough to do something about it.

Content: Fem!Reader. Smut. Dom!Spencer Sub!Reader. Oral (both f & m receiving). Thigh humping. Fingering. Light bondage. Angry Spencer. Semi humiliation kink. Edging/overstimulation. Bratty reader. Power imbalance kink. 18+

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

Spencer knew what he was getting into when he started dating you.  You weren’t defiant, per se, you followed the rules but only when you thought necessary. You didn’t mind getting lectured by Hotch, in fact, Spencer thought it was something you enjoyed.

 

Spencer knew you would not be someone who would easily submit to anyone or anything. He knew you were going to be a challenge, he just underestimated how much of a challenge you were going to be.

 

It wasn't just your defiance that fascinated him; it was the way you effortlessly challenged authority without ever crossing the line. You had a knack for bending the rules while still managing to stay within their boundaries. It was as if you had an innate understanding of when to push back and when to surrender.

 

Even though you loved pushing Hotch’s and the FBI buttons, you loved pushing Spencer’s more. Normally you wouldn’t take it too far, just far enough where you knew you were in for a treat later on. Spencer would normally overstimulate you; he loved hearing you beg for forgiveness, saying sorry over and over again until all you could do was moan.

 

But you wanted to see how far you could take it with Spencer, what he would do. You decided to play it safe to start off with. Every time he spoke, you would roll your eyes. At first, he didn’t seem to acknowledge what you were doing, he would simply carry on talking. Though after about a day of doing this, he would glare at you.

 

But instead of discouraging you, his glare only fuelled the fire within you. You craved his attention, even if it meant pushing his limits. So, you intensified your defiance, not holding back anymore.

 

As Spencer continued to talk, you let out an exasperated sigh and crossed your arms, openly displaying your disinterest. The room fell silent, all eyes on you and Spencer. His glare intensified, a mix of frustration and intrigue evident in his eyes.

 

"Is there something you want to say?" he finally asked, his voice slightly strained.

 

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "Oh, I'm sorry," you replied sarcastically. "I didn't realize I had to be interested in every little thing you have to say."

 

Spencer's jaw clenched as he fought to maintain his composure. He wasn't used to being challenged like this, especially not by someone he cared about. He didn’t say another word to you, he just took his eyes away and talked to the rest of your peers.

 

Once everyone had gone back to their desks, Spencer walked over to you. His eyes never leaving yours. “Roll your eyes one more time at me, and so help me God.” You could feel the tension in the air as Spencer stood before you, his voice low and controlled.

 

You knew you were starting to get to him, but you knew you could still take it further. “I thought you were an atheist, Spencer. Why are you asking God for help?” Even though your question was rhetorical, you asked it with a level of sincerity.

 

"Enough, Y/N," he growled, his voice full of warning. "You know exactly what I meant."

 

You could sense the shift in his demeanour, the underlying intensity that had been simmering beneath the surface. You had pushed him to his breaking point, and yet, you couldn't help but feel a strange surge of exhilaration coursing through your veins.

 

Spencer took a step closer, his proximity only heightening the charged atmosphere between you. The air crackled with unspoken desire and unyielding defiance. There was a part of you that wanted to relent, to submit to his authority, but another part revelled in the power play that unfolded before you.

 

"And what if I don't comply?" you challenged, your voice laced with defiance. "What will you do?"

 

He didn’t answer straightaway, so you answered for him. “Exactly, nothing. Maybe you should go back to your desk and get some work done before Hotch complains.”

 

Spencer's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and desire as he watched you, the challenge in your voice only serving to further ignite the fire within him. He could feel his control slipping, his usual calm and composed demeanour unravelling at the sheer audacity of your defiance.

 

With a calculated move, he took another step closer, closing the distance between you. His voice dropped to a low whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "You underestimate me, Y/N," he said, his tone laced with a dangerous edge. "But I assure you, I'm more than capable of making you comply."

 

He walked back to his desk, not allowing you to have the final word. You could see that you had rattled him, and that only fuelled your determination to push him further. You wanted to see how far he would go, how much control he was willing to relinquish.

 

For the rest of the day, you played it cool, focusing on your work and pretending as though nothing had happened between you and Spencer. You barely looked up at him, you wanted him to think he had won for now.

 

But as the hours ticked by, you could feel Spencer's eyes on you, his gaze burning into your skin. You knew he was silently contemplating his next move, strategizing how to regain control over the situation. And you were eager to see what he had in store.

 

Finally, as the workday drew to a close, Spencer stood up from his desk and walked purposefully towards you. His steps were measured, his expression unreadable. When he reached you, he took hold of your arm firmly but gently, guiding you towards the exit.

 

"Where are we going?" you asked, feigning innocence even though you had an inkling of what Spencer had in mind.

 

He didn’t answer, he didn’t even look at you. “Spencer, where are we going? I wanted to go to Rossi’s tonight, he’s teaching us to make homemade linguini, remember?” He still remained silent though.

 

“Are you ignoring me? How mature Spencer.” Spencer's grip tightened on your arm as he led you outside, away from the prying eyes of your colleagues. The cool night air brushed against your skin, adding a layer of suspense to the already charged atmosphere between you.

 

"Enough, Y/N," he finally spoke, his voice laced with both frustration and desire. “You’ve being testing me all day. And I think it’s time someone reminded you who’s in charge here.”

 

“No one’s meant to be in charge in a relationship, but if you want, I can go grab Hotch, I mean he is the one in charge after all.” Spencer’s eyes narrowed, annoyance and irritation flashing across his face. He had reached his breaking point, his patience worn thin by your relentless defiance. Without a word, he grabbed your waist and pulled you into him, his grip firm and possessive.

 

"Enough games, Y/N," he growled, his voice dripping with authority. "You push me, you challenge me, but do not mistake it for a lack of control."

 

He leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning across your ear as he whispered, "You want to play? Fine. But just remember, I always win."

 

“You don’t always win. I mean you haven’t won today. And what about Rossi’s?”

 

Spencer's gaze bore into yours, his intensity unwavering. "Rossi's can wait," he replied, a hint of mischief in his voice. "Right now, I'm going to remind you who's in charge."

 

He walked you over to his car, letting go of your arm so he could open your door, a gesture he always did, not matter how angry he was with you.

 

You slid into the passenger seat, still unable to hide the smirk playing on your lips. Spencer closed your door and made his way to the driver's side, taking a moment to compose himself before he started the engine.

 

As the car roared to life, the tension inside the vehicle matched the charged atmosphere between you. Spencer's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles turning white as he navigated the streets with a precision that mirrored his meticulous nature.

 

You decided to break the silence, you wanted to apologies to him, not because you were actually sorry but because you wanted him to think you were. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I was just bored today, and I thought it would be fun seeing how far I could take things. But I now realise that’s something I shouldn’t have done. So, I am truly and utterly sorry.” Your voice calm, but low, so it seemed like a real apology.

 

He remained silent, his eyes never leaving the road. “Spencer, please respond. I didn’t mean to anger you, I thought you would find it fun.”

 

“I don’t want to hear excuses, or fake apologies. You obviously need to learn a lesson.” Spencer's voice was cold, devoid of any hint of forgiveness or understanding. The atmosphere in the car became suffocating, the tension thick enough to cut through with a knife. You swallowed hard, feeling a twinge of unease crawl up your spine.

 

As Spencer continued to drive, the surroundings began to blur into a blur of streetlights and passing buildings. His steely gaze never wavered from the road ahead, his control unyielding and unwavering. It was as if he had transformed into someone else entirely, someone you had never seen before.

 

You glanced at him cautiously, trying to gauge his reaction. The anger in his eyes was still palpable, but there was something else there too—a hunger that made your breath hitch and your heart race. You could feel the heat between you intensifying, an electrifying current that left you both exhilarated and apprehensive.

 

"Spencer," you whispered tentatively, reaching out to touch his arm. Your fingers brushed against his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from it. But before you could say anything more, he abruptly pulled his arm away, his gaze still locked on the road ahead.

 

"Don't touch me," he snapped, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. The sharpness of his tone startled you, causing your hand to retract back to your side.

 

Once he had pulled up to his apartment, you didn’t wait for him to open your door, and simply jumped out and waited for him. As you stood outside his apartment, you could feel the tension between you and Spencer reach its peak. The air crackled with anticipation, each passing second heightening your desire for him. You knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for, the culmination of your shared lust and pent-up frustration.

 

Spencer finally emerged from the car, his tall figure casting a shadow over you. He eyed you intently, his gaze burning with a mix of anger and longing. Without saying a word, he walked towards you and grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards the entrance of his building.

 

He pulled you up the stairs, not even letting go off you to open up his door. Once inside his apartment, Spencer slammed the door shut behind you, his eyes never leaving yours. The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows that danced across the walls, amplifying the intensity of the moment.

 

“Spencer, I said I’m sorry. What else do you want me to do?” Spencer's silence hung heavy in the air as he continued to hold your wrist tightly, his grip unyielding. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in around you, intensifying the sense of anticipation and unease. You watched as his eyes bore into yours, searching for any hint of sincerity in your words.

 

His voice was low and gravelly as he finally spoke, his tone laced with a mix of frustration and desire. "Sorry isn't enough, Y/N. Words won't be sufficient to teach you the lesson you so desperately need."

 

He paused for a second, trying to come up with a good enough punishment. “The only way you’re getting off tonight, is my thigh.”

 

"Are you serious?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The intensity in his eyes was enough to confirm that this was no idle threat. He meant every word.

 

“I am very serious. Remember, you did this to yourself. If anything, I’m going too easy on you. Maybe I shouldn’t let you cum for the rest of the week, or make sure you struggle to walk for the next few days.”

 

You gasped, the gravity of his words sinking in. As much as his punishment excited you, it also stirred a deep sense of vulnerability within you.

 

"Spencer, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling with a mix of desire and apprehension. "I didn't mean to push you this far. I just wanted... I just wanted to feel your control."

 

A flicker of understanding flashed across his eyes, but he remained resolute. "Control is not something to be taken lightly, Y/N," he said sternly. "It is earned and respected. And tonight, you will learn exactly what it means to surrender."

 

He led you to the living room, fingers still wrapped tightly around your wrist. The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation, every second stretching out into eternity as you waited for his command.

 

"Undress," he ordered, his voice firm. A small part of you wanted to tell him that if he wants to see you naked, then he should undress you himself. But you knew then that would be pushing it a little too far.

 

He stood still, watching you as you unbuttoned your blouse, revealing a light blue lace bra. His eyes scanning your body, his tongue licking his lips. He looked at you as if you were prey. As you moved onto your trousers, his eyes followed. It was almost humiliating. He was staying fully dressed, while watching you undress yourself for him.

 

Your heart raced as you slid your trousers down your legs, feeling exposed under his unwavering gaze. "You look beautiful," Spencer murmured, his voice low and husky. His eyes continued to roam over your body, taking in every curve and dip, fuelling a fire deep within you. You couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his words, even though you knew it was merely a precursor to the punishment that awaited you.

 

“But when I said undress, I meant fully.” His voice had gone back to being cold.

 

You hesitated for a moment, uncertain of whether you were ready to bare yourself completely. The room grew colder as you stood there, shivering slightly under his gaze. With a deep breath, you reached behind your back and unhooked your bra, letting it slide down your arms and dropping it to the floor.

 

Spencer's eyes darkened with a mix of desire and dominance as he watched you undress. The air crackled with tension, the anticipation thickening with each passing moment. You kicked off your panties, finally standing before him completely exposed and vulnerable.

 

You watched as he walked over to his sofa. He sat himself down and open his legs slightly. He patted his thigh, as if he were asking you to sit on it for him.

 

Taking a step forward, you approached him with a mixture of trepidation and longing. You felt the cool air brush against your bare skin, heightening your senses. With each fleeting moment, the anticipation grew, electrifying the atmosphere.

 

You positioned yourself in front of Spencer, his thigh invitingly raised and awaiting your compliance. Slowly, you straddled him, feeling the heat of his body radiating through his clothes. The contact sent a wave of electricity coursing through your veins, causing you to inhale sharply.

 

Spencer's hands found their way to your hips, gripping them firmly as he guided you onto his thigh. The pressure against your core was immediate, eliciting a soft moan from deep within your throat. The friction of his thigh against your sensitive flesh sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, making it difficult to suppress the moans that threatened to escape your lips.

 

"Ride my thigh, Y/N," he growled, his voice laced with a raw hunger that sent shivers down your spine. "Show me how badly you want to be controlled."

 

Spencer's hands tightened their grip on your hips, guiding your movements with precision. Each motion sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, building the tight coil of desire within you. The room filled with the sound of your moans, mingling with Spencer's low groans of pleasure.

 

As you rode his thigh, the intensity of the moment consumed you. The room fell away, leaving only the two of you entangled in a dance of desire and control. Spencer's hands tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he guided your movements with expert precision.

 

“Is this all it takes for you to actually listen to me? You just want to cum huh?” He chuckled.

 

You only seemed to be able to nod your head, the only thing leaving your mouth were moans. “Maybe I should have asked you to grind against my shoes instead, you seem to be enjoying this too much.”

 

Your body trembled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation as Spencer's words sank in. The thought of grinding against his shoes sent a surge of excitement through you, despite the humiliation it would bring. You were at his mercy, completely under his control, and you craved more.

 

Spencer's grip on your hips tightened as he felt your body tense with desire. A wicked smile tugged at the corners of his lips, reflecting the dominance that radiated from him. With a sudden surge of confidence, he released your hips and reached down to unbutton his pants. The sound of metal against metal echoed through the room as he unzipped his fly, freeing himself from the confines of his trousers.

 

You watched with hungry eyes as Spencer's erection sprang free, standing proudly before you. A shiver ran down your spine as desire pooled between your thighs, the ache for release growing stronger by the second. The anticipation was palpable, hanging thickly in the air like an intoxicating fog.

 

"Get on your knees," Spencer commanded, his voice low and commanding. You obeyed without hesitation, the need to please him overpowering any remnants of resistance. Your knees sank into the plush carpet, bringing you eye level with his throbbing length.

 

You could feel his gaze burning into you as you took him in your hands, stroking his length firmly. A groan escaped from Spencer's lips; his head tilted back in pleasure. The power dynamic between you had shifted completely, and you revelled in the sense of control you now held.

 

With every stroke, Spencer grew harder in your grasp, his desire evident in the way he gripped onto the edge of the sofa. You marvelled at the way he responded to your touch, relishing in the way his body reacted to your every movement.

 

You leaned in closer, flicking your tongue against the sensitive tip of his cock. Spencer's breath hitched, a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest. He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding you as you took him further into your mouth.

 

Your lips wrapped around him, the taste of his desire lingering on your tongue. You reveled in the power you held over him, eager to please and satisfy his every need. Your tongue glided along his length, tracing the veins that pulsed with his desire. Spencer's grip on your hair tightened, his hips canting forward, urging you to take him deeper.

 

The intensity of the moment consumed you as you surrendered completely to him. Each thrust of his hips brought you closer to the edge, your own desire building with every flicker of your tongue against his sensitive flesh. Your senses heightened, the sound of his moans filling the room, mingling with your own pleasure-filled gasps.

 

Spencer's control wavered as he neared the precipice of release. His grip on your hair became tighter, guiding you with an urgency that matched the rhythm of his thrusts. The powerful waves of pleasure coursed through him, radiating from every inch of his being.

 

As Spencer's release neared, you could feel the tension in his body intensify. His breaths became ragged and irregular, and you could sense that he was on the verge of losing his grip on control. With a final, desperate thrust, he released himself into your mouth.

 

You swallowed eagerly, savouring the taste of him as his essence filled your senses. The primal satisfaction that filled the room was overwhelming, leaving you both breathless and intoxicated with desire.

 

Spencer collapsed back onto the sofa, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. You rose from your knees, licking your lips and savouring the lingering taste of him on your tongue.

 

Spencer knew he wasn’t done with you yet; he knew this wasn’t a proper punishment. Spencer's eyes burned with a renewed determination as he met your gaze. Despite the intense pleasure that still lingered within you, there was a hunger for more, an unquenchable longing that pulsed through your veins.

 

"Get on the bed," he commanded, his voice low and commanding. The room seemed to dim around you, shadows dancing against the walls, as you obeyed his command.

 

The bed beckoned you, its soft sheets invitingly cool against your heated skin. You climbed onto it, positioning yourself on all fours, ready and exposed for whatever Spencer had in mind.

 

Spencer stood up from the sofa, his eyes fixed on your vulnerable form on the bed. He moved towards you slowly, the anticipation building with each step. As he reached the edge of the bed, he trailed a finger lightly along your spine.

 

He reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a length of silk rope, his eyes never leaving yours. With a swift motion, he secured your wrists together, binding them tightly but not painfully. You tested the restraints instinctively, feeling the rush of helplessness mingling with arousal.

 

With your wrists secured, Spencer moved to the foot of the bed, his gaze darkening with a predatory hunger. He wasted no time, his hands trailing up your legs, skimming over the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. A shiver ran through you, anticipation coiling tightly in your core.

 

His touch was teasing, tormenting, as he neared the apex of your thighs. His fingers danced along the edges of your arousal, but never fully delved into it. It was a maddeningly slow torture that left you trembling with need.

 

"Please," you whispered, unable to contain the desperation in your voice. The ache within you was unbearable, the longing for release. Spencer's lips curled into a devilish smile, relishing in the power he held over you. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Patience, my love. I deserve patience after the stunts you pulled today.”

 

His fingers continued their torturous dance along your inner thighs, inching closer to your throbbing core. Every brush of his fingertips ignited a fire within you, intensifying the ache for release. Your body quivered with need, yearning for his touch to finally grant you the satisfaction you craved.

 

Finally, Spencer's fingers made contact with your slick folds, teasingly skimming against your sensitive entrance. A gasp escaped your lips as he dipped a single finger inside, drawing out a slow, deliberate stroke that had you arching your back in sheer ecstasy. Each movement was precise, calculated to push you closer to the edge without granting you the climax you so desperately sought.

 

"More," you begged, your voice filled with a desperation that matched the wildfire burning within you. Spencer's eyes gleamed with delight at your plea, relishing in the power he held over your pleasure.

 

With a wicked smile, he added another finger, curling them inside you expertly, hitting that spot that made your entire body quiver with every stroke. The intensity of the pleasure built rapidly, transcending everything else in the room. Your moans filled the air, mingling with the sound of his fingers slipping in and out of you.

 

But just as you were on the precipice of release, Spencer pulled his fingers out, leaving you gasping and reaching for something to cling onto. The sudden emptiness made you whimper with frustration. Spencer's eyes held an intoxicating mix of dominance and satisfaction as he watched you squirm on the bed.

 

"You don't get to come yet," he murmured huskily. "Not until I've had my fill." Spencer's words hung in the air, teasing, and taunting you. Every fibber of your being throbbed with desire, yearning for release. The hunger in his eyes reflected your own as he positioned himself between your spread legs.

 

Lowering his head, Spencer's hot breath fanned across your sensitive flesh. His lips brushed against your inner thighs, peppering soft kisses along the way, deliberately avoiding the centre of your need. The anticipation was agonizing, a delicious torment that made your body ache for his touch.

 

Finally, his tongue flicked out and traced a slow circle around your swollen clit. A gasp escaped your lips as pleasure surged through you. He continued to tease, alternating between gentle licks and firm sucks that had you writhing beneath him.

 

Each flicker of his tongue against your most intimate place intensified the fire within you. Your hips rocked instinctively, seeking more friction, more pleasure. But Spencer held firm control over your pleasure, denying you the release you so desperately craved. He continued his torturous ministrations, never relenting, never granting you the satisfaction of that mind-numbing climax.

 

Your body trembled with every stroke of his tongue, your need escalating to a maddening frenzy. The room was filled with the symphony of your moans, your pleas mixed with the wet sounds of his mouth on your throbbing core. The tension coiled tighter and tighter within you, threatening to shatter your sanity.

 

Spencer's hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place as he devoured you with an insatiable hunger. You were at his mercy, surrendering yourself completely to his touch. The pulsating waves of pleasure radiated through every fibber of your being, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

 

Just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, when the ache for release became unbearable, Spencer pulled away.

 

Your whole body cried out in protest at the sudden absence of his touch. You whimpered, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Spencer's dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched you, revelling in the control he had over your pleasure.

 

"Please," you begged, your voice dripping with need. "I need to cum."

 

Spencer's lips curled into a wicked smile, knowing full well the power he held over your satisfaction. He crawled up the bed, positioning himself over you, his hard length brushing against your thigh. The hunger in his eyes was palpable as he captured your gaze.

 

"Oh, my love," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "I'm not done with you yet. I want to watch you unravel completely."

 

His words sent a shiver down your spine, desire pooling between your legs once again. Spencer grasped your wrists, releasing them from their restraints, allowing you to wrap your arms around him.

 

With a swift motion, Spencer positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with the head of his throbbing length. The anticipation was maddening, the need for him to fill you overwhelming every inch of your being. You let out a soft whimper, begging him to take you, to quell the ache that consumed you.

 

But Spencer relished in your desperation, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth with a hunger that matched your own. It was a battle of dominance and surrender as your tongues danced and clashed, melding together in a frenzied embrace.

 

When he finally pulled away, his lips trailed down your neck, peppering heated kisses along the curve of your throat. His breath was hot against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. As his teeth grazed along the sensitive flesh, a bolt of pleasure shot through you, electrifying every nerve ending.

 

With agonizing slowness, Spencer entered you, his hard length filling you inch by inch. You gasped at the delicious stretch, the feeling of him stretching you to your limits. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, a mix of pain and ecstasy that had your body arching off the bed in pure bliss.

 

He began to move within you, his thrusts slow and deliberate. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body, intensifying the ache for release that had been building within you for so long. Your fingers clenched against the silk restraints, the sensation of being bound adding an extra layer of arousal.

 

Spencer's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, hitting that spot deep inside you with every powerful stroke. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, mingling with your moans and gasps.

 

Your senses were completely consumed by the pleasure, nothing else existing except for the connection between you and Spencer. His gaze locked with yours, his eyes filled with an intensity that matched the blaze within you. Every movement, every thrust, carried you further and further into a state of raw ecstasy. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a dance of desire.

 

As Spencer's rhythm became more erratic, your body responded in kind, meeting his every movement with unyielding fervour. The bed rocked beneath you, a symphony of creaks and moans echoing through the room. Sweat glistened on your skin, the scent of desire mingling with the air.

 

Time lost all meaning as pleasure coiled tightly within you, ready to unravel at any moment. The fire burned within your core, threatening to consume you whole. Spencer's fingers dug into your hips, his grip possessive yet exhilarating.

 

With one final thrust, the dam broke.

 

An explosion of sensation ripped through your body as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your nails dug into his skin. He quickly followed you, releasing his seed deep in you.

 

He pulled out and had a look a triumph plastered across his face. “I think we should probably get ready to leave now, huh?”

 

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[har-rison-s]

whatever you need | coryo snow x fem!reader

a/n: don't mind me, just eating pomelo and writing smut. i daydream about this piece every and all work day i have rn, it's pretty unhinged bcs i'm working as a gift wrapper for the holiday season and just staring ahead thinking of.... things. i'm technically an atheist, but i would need forgiveness for those thoughts. ANYWAY JEEZ. this took me like four days, help. i'm so insecure abt my smut writing, tho so ooohhh god am i actually dreading posting this. i'll just publish and run away from tumblr for a week. happy reading

talk to me about coryo here

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word count: 7.2k (sawrry)

themes: smut

warnings / disclaimers: smut, unprotected p in v, brief mutual masturbation, cum eating (SCREAMING), fingering, crying, ENJOY jsdfjhsadsd

gif credit goes to owner <3

something strange was happening in the arena. something was being done to the camera feeds that were supposed to livestream every second of what was happening in it. only because something seemed to have gone wrong in the games y/n was stuck to the television screen in her living room slash lounge. her parents were called into urgent work in district three a few hours ago, so it was only her and some of the maids in the house. they kept to themselves, though, and were probably asleep in their quarters at the mansion’s far-end wing. except for the main housekeeper, who was adamantly guarding the entrance of the house, in case anyone came by.

her parents were counting on someone coming by - with the way she was recently behaving at school and with the rebel bombs, they were real worried about her well-being. she was always alone at home, because there was no one to bring home. except the dean, but he came by himself and only to serve his usual scolding and threats about y/n’s rebellious nature and behaviour at school. her parents hadn’t felt such worry for their daughter as they felt now since the war days. 

what soothed her mother’s worried heart and mind was the presence of the maids and the housekeeper. y/n appreciated their staying around and liked hearing noises made by someone else in the mansion, even if it was only a far-away creak of floorboards or a door closing. but she didn’t need anything from them, ever, she’d been very independent since her early childhood, and maids seemed like such an excess right now, an even backwards concept for y/n. her family employing them, unable to live without them, made her feel like the rich princess everyone deemed her being. 

y/n had felt fine being home alone until the feed from the arena turned strange. darker, blacker, and the audio seemed warped or otherwise manipulated. she’d caught sight of a familiar figure entering the arena – who was that? how did he get inside? who can tell... – and then the feed changed. there was nothing much she could see, but her eyes had been glued to the screen of her television for the past half hour, anyway. all the while she was straining her eyes to try to see who it was, and at some point that figure was joined by another by Sejanus’ tribute Marcus’ bruised and wounded body, and then the feed darkened nearly completely. 

she sat in her sofa in an embryo pose, blanket over her stressed form, covering her back and the bare feet and legs that the knitted bedtime jumper couldn’t. she realized the gamemakers or the Capitol were trying to hide something, nothing else could explain the feed changing and audio going wobbly and earning static in the process. 

the bell ringing at the front door startled her so bad that y/n gasped and jerked in her position on the sofa. her head whipped in its direction and she watched two figures entering her family’s mansion from the far end of the hallway. she could already tell who the two were, but she remained sat on the sofa, her legs unmoving out of anxiety. she shut off the television and just watched them walk towards her through the unlit hallway, arms wrapping around her knees underneath her beloved blanket.

“ms y/l/n, a mister Snow is here, for you,” the housekeeper announced as she and Coriolanus entered the living room, Coriolanus stumbling into the room more than walking into it. he looked like he was falling to pieces. his breath was heavy, hair and academy uniform in disarray, face just... bewildered. y/n nodded at her housekeeper, extended her arms towards Coryo like a child reaching for its favourite toy and sniffled quietly.

“thank you, Nora,” she told the housekeeper, “please leave us. you can go to bed, i won’t need anything else for the night.” she said in a hushed voice and the housekeeper nodded, knowing to listen to the child of her employers. y/n hated giving anyone orders, much less this spectacular lady, but she did want to be alone with Coryo. and by the look of him, she could tell he couldn’t be around anyone else but her. he was a man of privacy, after all.

as soon as Nora shut the door behind her and left for the maids’ quarters, Coryo accepted the plea in y/n’s extended arms and stumbled over to her on the sofa. “i—i’m sorry,” he said the first words out of breath, in a voice so broken and frail that y/n’s lips twitched downwards and she felt the need to cry, “i didn’t know where else to go, i couldn’t... i couldn’t f-face anyone else...” as he sat down before y/n’s bare feet peeking out from the blanket, she noticed in the poor lighting of the room that his clothes were dirty. there were cuts in his shirt, dirt, gravel, sand... blood. 

“what happened?” her voice wouldn’t go any louder than a whisper, and her lips were turning into a pout as she looked Coryo over, her meek hands reaching out for him but unsure whether she should touch him or not. he could fall apart like the frailest glass, it seemed, if anything touched him right now. his face was bruised. there were small cuts on his cheek, blood on his chin. she noticed how they had already been taken care of.

Coryo still took heavy breaths, but finally he felt like his vision was real and not fooling him, and he took in his surroundings. the dim lighting in the posh room, y/n’s bare feet touching his red academy pant leg, her legs pulled up to her chest under a cute throw-blanket in the pastel colour of chocolate milk, her small hands reaching out to him, unsure, unsteady. he lifted his head to look at her, and the expression on her face made his heart lurch in his chest. her glassy eyes – no doubt matching his –, the pout on her lips, her rosy cheeks, eyebrows scrunched in worry and confusion. he could never decline that face. “dr Gaul sent me inside the arena to get Sejanus out,” he finally said, and he spoke in a whisper tone that could only be meant for secrets, “but the tributes heard us... i’m not sure i should even be telling you about this at all,” he admitted.

y/n shook her head. “your secret’s safe with me,” she assured with a gentle nod.

“yes, but dr Gaul—” Coryo began, but she interrupted him in the voice of a faint whisper. 

“i know how terrifying she is,” y/n persisted, “she won’t know that i know.” she said even quieter and looked, really looked, into Coryo’s eyes, and nodded gently again at him. he searched her eyes for a few seconds, weighing the risk of her knowing this, trying to decide if he should tell her more or just cut short here. but really. she’s a loose end and she knows it. it’s not like dr Gaul was in high thoughts of y/n or deemed her more valuable than any other student, and her nature played a big part in that opinion of the young girl. how would she know that y/n found out about this night in the arena? she wouldn’t. it would never come up in conversation. y/n wasn’t part of this.

“the tributes heard us,” Coryo started to say as he sat closer to y/n, his body turned to face her, and almost loomed over her. he’s always been much taller than her, and sometimes that played a part in their dynamic. he took her hands in his above her bent knees and the blanket. he licked his lips and y/n searched his eyes, his... stoic blue eyes. there was a change in them, “they came after us and i...” he shook his head, “i didn’t want to hurt him,” Coryo’s voice broke and his head dropped onto y/n’s covered knees. 

she heard a sob from him, and it shook her entire form, making her gasp quietly. she’d never seen him cry before. the night on the rooftop, in the garden, she knew he was close to it, but she knew he’d never let his pride down so much that he’d let anyone see him cry. and Coryo didn’t feel so good about crying now, about opening himself up to her like this, he felt disgusted with himself. but he also couldn’t stop. and he couldn’t hide everything from her, after all. 

y/n shuffled around until her legs were tucked under herself and she moved closer to Coryo, taking his scarred cheeks between her small hands and lifting his face up so he would see her. she knew she made him nervous usually, but she calculated that that effect flipped around on itself when he was in this state, or one similar to this. breaking apart. feeling vulnerable. beaten down. she looked into his eyes and he back into hers, not really having any other choice. she had this compelling power over him, even if he didn’t want to admit it, and he didn’t want to hide from her. not really.

his breathing slowed down as he just looked into her wondering beautiful orbs, full of so much determination, courage and kindness. she was almost smiling at him, even though she wanted to cry, too, and her eyes were glassy with produced tears, but she wanted to appear strong for him. because right now he really needed a strong anchor to hold onto, he was the one in need of support. y/n took that role mainly in their friendship-relationship, especially at school, when she got herself in trouble, or at home, when her parents were giving her an earful about her irresponsibility and all the jazz they usually gave her an earful about.

last time Coryo and y/n saw each other, she realized he had the ability to ground her. and now she realized she had the ability to ground him, because by looking into his eyes she could see his emotions and mood changing by the second. and all because she’s holding him, and he’s looking into her eyes. he didn’t need much more than that. 

and yet maybe he did. he didn’t know which part of him had the urge, but all of him acted on it by ducking forward and kissing her on the lips. he could taste the sweat she had made on her lips out of stress, and the blueberry tartlet she must have had as a late snack not too long ago. and his hands couldn’t keep away anymore, either, they were taking hold of her face like hers was holding his cheeks between them. y/n would have gasped at his sudden action if she had any air to breathe, and she sighed heavily when he did give her a split second of air after fiery kisses to her delicious lips. 

he kept his eyes on her as he pulled his academy blazer off and threw it to the ground beside the couch, then came back closer to her, one hand on her cheek and the other pulling the adorable blanket off her legs. y/n placed a palm on that hand of his, which made Coryo furrow his eyebrows and look at her with puzzled eyes. didn’t she want this, too? she gulped, eyes averted from his shyly. “i’d rather we talked about it, Coryo,” she admitted and looked back at him carefully, eyes so un-knowing and yet more clever than most people’s. Coryo tilted his head slightly at her words. 

his hands took the bull by its horns, pulling the blanket fully away and welcoming the night air of the mansion upon y/n’s bare legs, making her gasp again. Coryo used the moment of surprise to his advantage and pushed her down on the sofa, sneaking in between her legs like the slippery mastermind he was, and he slid a hand under her knitted jumper, raising goose-bumps in his wake across her stomach and waist. y/n hated that she felt aroused, meaning she felt exactly how he wanted her to, was right where he wanted her, but she couldn’t exactly pull away. she hated being at someone’s mercy, but.... it was Coryo.

she surprised him when he found she wasn’t wearing a bra under her jumper, nothing was standing between his greedy hands and her naked breasts now, though her not wearing a bra at home wasn’t exactly a surprise. it’s just that his inexperienced self was shocked to find a part of her naked, and right there, at his disposal. watching her face, he placed his palm over one of her breasts and ran his thumb over her nipple, which hardened immediately under his touch. and her face, oh, the expression on it was to die for. eyes softly shut, eyebrows gently spasming as she was feeling something very new to her, her teeth biting her lower lip, cheeks turning more red and no doubt burning up. Coryo placed a kiss on her bare stomach, just above the elastic of her underwear, and watched her still as she whimpered for the first time. her thighs fidgeted around him, feet unsurely digging into the soft cushions of her couch—she really didn’t know what to do with herself and these sensations she was experiencing. 

“i’d rather we didn’t,” he said to her finally, though his actions were more than enough of a response to what she said, but she hardly heard him now. there was a gentle static in her ears, and heat all over her writhing form. her pure, supple, untouched form. all for him to touch, to explore. Coryo took his shirt off in a hurry, as if y/n might disappear if he had his hands off her for a second longer, and returned to her half-naked body a hungrier man. hands raking the insides of her thighs, he kissed her again, hot lips making their conversation just moments ago seem like the far past, making her almost forget it happened. y/n could hardly feel her legs, though she knew this was just the beginning, and she wrapped her arms around Coryo’s frame and held onto him as he moved his slender torso against her chest. she could feel the bones of his hips jutting against her own, his growing crotch pressing against her panty-covered soaking cunt, teasing her, making her pant heavily and whimper like a kitten. 

having her like this satiated the hunger that rose from the deep hole he’d created inside himself, gnawing at him like a big black hole with eager, starving claws. every stroke of his hips against hers beat the monster down but dangled the bait in front of it at the same time, leaving him in quite the paradox. this was more than enough, yet Coryo knew he could go further with y/n, further than enough, and that she’d let him. everything in him wanted to, and he couldn’t stop himself. adrenaline was pumping blood from his heart into his veins, she was available and the only one who could help with the hole growing inside him. 

but y/n couldn’t go further without another word spoken. he was avoiding her question, he was avoiding the whole last hour of this night. “Coryo,” she whispered softly as his lips kissed at her neck, tongue sweeping over a particularly bruised-with-kisses spot on her sculpture-like skin, he was an animal let loose. and his affections almost made her forget what she wanted to ask, and she thought maybe she doesn’t really want to know. but y/n sighed, trying to clear her mind, “tell me what happened,” she plead in a quiet voice and it made Coryo raise his head and look into her eyes again. 

he framed the side of her face with only a hand, his thumb on her chin and the rest of his palm splayed across her burning cheek. he loved seeing the look of lust and confusion on her face, in her eyes most of all. the pads of his fingertips softly pushed into her skin. “no,” he remained stubborn, and y/n would have been surprised to have him do otherwise. she gulped softly, hoping he wouldn’t feel it, but no, he felt every motion any part of her made now. his mind came up with a new idea as he slid a hand of his across her stomach, making a wave across her supple body, and then he reached her underwear. he knew, like everyone else did sort of matter-of-factly, that women were to be touched there. he knew it was the spot in her with which he could get her full attention. and he also knew he’d have to fabricate having experience in this field for y/n. he didn’t want her to think him inexperienced, which he was exactly, or least of all that he’s experimenting with her—which was also what he was doing. so he improvised by cupping her warmest place in the body, and he felt an immediate reaction. her thighs fidgeted around his waist again and her stomach lurched. her eyes shut, but he wanted to see them, “open your eyes,” Coryo urged her, and y/n had to force herself to comply, her beautiful eyes looking into his again. they held eye contact as he ran his middle finger in a straight line between her clothed folds, and he watched as her face contorted, caused by the new strange and pleasant feelings. she felt like warm honey on his fingers, “right now all i need is to feel you,” he told her and did the same motion with his finger again, only this time slower, making it pleasurably agonizing for her, coaxing quiet whimpers from her lips, “and this tells me you need it, too.” 

god, she hated that he was right. at first it was want, she wanted him to stay over, to touch her, to feel her, to do things to her that no one else had ever before. now, she felt so desperate for it that she felt she could explode if she didn’t get what seemed to be promised to her. the want grew to need. she wanted to shake her head, wanted to push him off—that would really be characteristic to her. but instead she brought herself to really look into his eyes and nod in response. Coryo’s lips almost made a smile or a grin, almost, she caught the ghost of it in the corner of his lips before he kissed her again. “alright, Coryo,” she whispered against his lips, “but if you don’t touch me properly right now, i willkick you out of my home.” she said surely, admitting to her desperation without shame and in turn – with pride, and now Coryo grinned. her feistiness was one of the things he liked about her, and it coming out in this setting was more than he could have asked for. in a weird way it got him going. 

y/n placed both of her hands on the sides of his face and kept him close to her as he reached his hand into her underwear, breaching into unexplored territory. she was all the warmer for him, and soaking wet. he hummed, their lips nearly touching, but not completely. it was torture for him. he wanted to devour her lips, her whole face, her whole existence. her lips were like the food of life for him, the sounds she made music to his ears and air in his lungs. “you’re just perfect for me,” he confessed to her in a shudder and y/n smiled lightly. his fingers ran through her naked warm folds, just testing the waters, until they found the opening between them, where the wetness and warmth were seeping from. Coryo would have dropped his head onto her shoulder if her hands weren’t holding it up right, but he just felt like he lost his damn mind at how incredible her walls felt around his fingers, and he could collapse right there on top of her. 

“Coryo,” she sang his nickname in a beautiful moan when two fingers prodded inside her, beating any expectations she had about this beforehand. they were long and thick, touching every inch of her, it felt like, and reaching just far enough. she was barely holding onto him, and her body was reacting to his touches immediately. hips moving, back arching, thighs squeezing his body between them, breaths shuddering. 

“no one’s done this to you before, have they?” Coryo asked, but he hardly needed an answer. by the way she was reacting, he could tell that she’d never felt like this before. y/n shaking her head at his question was merely the last dot on the confirmation, yet it still made him more aroused. knowing he was the first one to do this to her, with her. he grazed her upper wall with his finger pads, being careful not to let his nails scrape her, and it brought a moan from her that he’d never heard anyone make. guttural, coming from the very depths of her lungs, her vocal cords, from her very core. it made him shudder. he repeated the motion, slower one time, then faster the next, all the while watching her reaction. he loved seeing her eyes shut, her cheeks become redder, her lips parting, stretching, pushing breaths and whimpers out from between them. Coryo felt one of her hands sliding up into his hair, and he groaned. her hips bucked and she grabbed onto his perfect curls between her fingers when he reached farther inside her with his two fingers, and it made them both moan into each other’s mouths, y/n letting his lips rest over hers. he’d reached that great point inside her, feeling her hot and spongy against his digits. it’s almost like she was sucking him in. “you’re so good for me,” Coryo told her and y/n whimpered at the praise. 

“more, please,” she begged with no shame and Coryo obliged, picking up the pace of his fingers and massaging over her folds with his thumb all the while. when he accidentally grazed over her clit, y/n made a high-pitched moan of the utmost sensitivity, and he knew he’d done the right thing. and by accident, no less. he was on the winning team, “Coryo,” she cried with her eyes shut and he noticed a tear on her cheek, kissing over it immediately. next his lips were on hers again, lapping at her tongue with his own like the starving man he was, knowing nothing of tomorrow or the next hour, just so engulfed in her that he knew nothing else. she was the perfect getaway.

he could feel her body behaving in a different way, thighs trembling around him, walls squeezing his hand in, hands nearly powerless, chest shuddering. she wasn’t far off her release, he guessed. with another press to the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her cry, Coryo once again watched her reaction in amazement. but he didn’t want to feel her release like this, he needed them both different. Coryo pulled his fingers away, once again making y/n cry out, this time in the most desperation she could manage, and she looked up at him with pleading, tearful eyes. he offered her a gentle smile and moved down her body, dragging her underwear with him. down her legs and away, the light pink garment went, and y/n bit her plump lip in anticipation as she watched him. 

Coryo tucked her underwear into the trousers of his academy uniform that he was still wearing and returned to her body, laying kisses across her thighs on his way up to her. y/n squirmed under and around him, mewled, muttering his name in a mewl here and there, relishing in the feeling of his lips on her untouched skin and his hands roaming all over her body, under her jumper, over it, trying to cover every inch of her. she hated that he had stopped touching her right when she was closest to that one sacred edge she wanted so badly to reach, he was teasing her, taunting her, testing her waters. it was clear to her that he had never done this to another girl before. Coryo was just like her, and yet he’d put up a different façade. 

he dug his fingers into the flesh of her naked hips, which made y/n throw her head back into the sofa cushions, baring her delicious-looking neck to Coryo. he used that to his advantage, licking and kissing at the skin of her neck which he had already bruised marked with his lips just moments ago, he was devouring her with a hunger only she could really satiate, and yet he couldn’t get enough of her. his growing crotch pressed against her bare cunt, and y/n gasped at the feeling. eyebrows scrunched, cheeks and lips red and puffy, she looked up at Coryo again, and he returned the gesture. he took one of her hands in his and guided it down to between them, where he was growing harder and in size, it seemed, watching her face all the while and taking notice of her biting down on her lower lip in anticipation. Coryo made her feel him through his trousers, and he couldn’t hide the effect her touch had on him - shuddering throughout his whole body, eyelids fluttering, he was barely able to utter the next words, but he did so in a quiet voice. “feel what you do to me?” 

y/n nodded with lustful eyes, hungry like the wolf for the boy above her. her boldness came back and with it y/n unzipped Coryo’s custom-made trousers and reached into his boxers to really feel him. he had girth and he was solid, she could feel that all with her hand on him. she was making him a panting mess, giving his length a sure stroke, Coryo’s head falling into the crook of her neck and him moaning, though she knew the piece of his pride that died for him to do that. he hardly let anyone see his inner world, his true feelings, so for him to be this vulnerable with her took a great deal of courage. “do i make you... feel like this often?” y/n asked quietly, and Coryo nodded with a whimper as her finger flicked over his tip, pink and sensitive. y/n wrapped her fingers around his shaft and stroked up and down, slowly, looking at his face all the while, wishing she could see his beautiful eyes now, see the emotions swimming around in the blue of them.

Coryo fisted the pillow right beside her, heavy breaths leaving his parted lips, “yes, yes, yes, god, yes,” he chanted in her ear as the pace of her strokes grew faster, and y/n could feel each breaths in his lungs against her own, his chest rising and hitting against her so intensely. she’d made him crumble beneath her so quickly, it surprised her, “i need you, y/n, i need to feel you,” Coryo confessed and managed the strength to raise his head and look at her again. he was too afraid to utter the phrase i need to be inside you, feeling just too shy all of a sudden to say that. the look on his face was pure desperation, he looked like he could start crying the next moment, and y/n’s heart lurched in her chest at seeing that. seeing and recognising that she could make him as desperate as he’d made her. that she could make him small, “no one’s ever made me feel like this before,” he confessed more, breaking his own façade down, and y/n smiled at him sheepishly. she knew, of course, that what he said was true. she knew everything about him.

“you have me,” she assured him and brought him out of the confine of his boxers, making Coryo breathe in relief. he had felt so restricted in his own clothes, “but god, Coryo, will you fit? you feel too big in my hand,” y/n said shyly and bit down on her lip again, a habit that Coryo had noticed her having for quite a while now, and he looked down between them two. y/n knew her comment went straight to his growing ego, but she just couldn’t resist teasing him a little. and when he caught onto it, he looked at her again, with a smile on his lips this time. she grinned wide and giggled before she took his face in her hands and kissed his lips, as if it was her first time doing so. simple, loving, affectionate. 

suddenly she fully took in the look of his naked torso, his amazingly sculpted shoulders and arms, his pearly chest... the sight of him was so breath-taking and delicious that she nearly forgot all her other surroundings. Coryo, though the look her eyes were giving him flattered him so, took the bull by its horns again and pushed the very tip of his hard length through her folds, where her warm opening welcomed him. y/n felt a strain while Coryo felt the beginning of a true release, but he noticed her awkward expression, felt her hold on his face falter, and he paused his movements to just check in. 

“alright?” he asked quietly, as he couldn’t tell what to do next by her face, “too big for you?” he teased and it made them both smile, then erupt into mad giggles in unison. y/n would never have expected Coryo to have humour in a moment like this, but she was relieved that he did, and god did it make the whole thing easier. she wasn’t worried, wasn’t anxious anymore, wasn’t feeling insecure about any aspect of herself anymore. except the thing she’d heard that happened to most women on their first time – the bleeding, the pain, his reaction to it. those were the few things she wanted to avoid happening. but if Coryo was his sweetheart-self, then she had no bad reaction to worry about. she was glad he was the person she was doing it for the first time with, she’d really lucked out.

“just a little,” she finally answered after their giggle fit while holding each other in their arms, “try going deeper,” she urged in a hushed voice, and Coryo complied, adjusting his hips forward, slowly, not to accidentally hurt her more. he couldn’t deny how incredible this felt, how incredible she felt around him, her walls sucking him right in so tightly, “ohmygodohmygod,” y/n pushed the words out in a quick breath, feeling a burn and stretch inside of her at the size of him. she didn’t have anyone to compare Coryo to, and no one else had been inside her before, but he felt big enough. 

Coryo appreciated her arm on his back, her nails digging half-moons into his pearly skin, and her other hand splayed across his cheek, thumb almost digging a hole in his cheek. “you feel so perfect around me,” Coryo praised against her parted lips, and y/n could only look at him with strain and tears in her eyes as he inched himself further and further inside, her face changing by every inch, it seemed, until he had bottomed out with a groan and she’d only felt a momentary sting of pain. and the worst part was over—what a miracle it was that it had been so quick for her, she’d expected otherwise. Coryo could see the immediate relaxation on her features, and he smiled. 

he kissed away her fallen tears, but more kept falling from her eyes and y/n could only explain them as being happy tears, though she scolded herself for being so emotional in a meaningful moment like this. but maybe it was just right. Coryo smiled at her and she could see his orbs being glossy, too, and she was glad. it was no wonder, really, taking how shaken he was when he came into her home and sat down on her couch beside her. he was still in turmoil, but that didn’t matter now. he had her. 

“can i try... moving? you feel alright?” he asked her in a whisper. this slow thrust inside her had already felt like heaven, he couldn’t wait to repeat it over and over and over. 

y/n nodded, “yeah, go ahead,” she said and Coryo complied. she took in the feeling of him pulling out gently, slowly... teasingly. he was grinning, she saw, and she shook her head in disbelief as a beautiful smile adorned her features. and then he thrust inside her again, stuffing her walls with his great length, making her back arch and moans that she’s never made before escape her lips. he could hardly concentrate, but he didn’t want to miss all the different facial expressions she would make, the look in her eyes, while he made love to her now. he made himself keep his eyes open as he began to move rhythmically now. 

y/n’s legs wrapped around his waist, engulfing him in her more and more, and each of his thrusts earned him a squeak from her from the movements. god, he just adored her beyond measure. she was everything he needed now, and later, and forever. Coryo kissed her neck, licked at it, as he had before, and it only made her moan more, each moan in its own unique high or low pitch, and dig her fingers into whichever part of his skin she was holding. Coryo adored her touches, they turned him on, and he wanted her hands on him always, they were a lifeline. his hands gripped her waist, her sweater bunched just above them, only covering her arms and her breasts, though barely even those from how much Coryo was moving her.

“you're doing so good for me,” he breathed into her ear, and the praise only spurred her on. she clenched around him, and it made Coryo break his focus completely, his head dropping onto y/n’s chest, where he breathed hot air onto her skin, “i’m sorry, i think i’m close,” he confessed, and y/n raised his face with her hands, looking at him with puzzlement across her face. 

“me too, it’s okay,” she assured him and then took one of his hands in hers and lead it down to where their bodies met. she laid his palm over the bulge that had formed in her lower stomach from him. the sight and feel of it made Coryo groan, getting him all the more closer to his release. 

“fuck, that’s amazing,” he said into her neck, and y/n nodded.

“you’re so big, Coryo,” she complimented him again and felt his dick twitch inside her at the words, “made a bump in me,” she put it into words and it made the boy nearly lose his mind. then she guided his hand just a little lower and pressed his hand onto her clit, where he recalled was her most vulnerable point, “come on, touch me. we’ll do it together,” she urged him on in the sweetest of angel voices and Coryo didn’t need to think twice before complying. he loved her ordering him around a little, it was much needed tonight especially. 

he pressed his thumb against her clit as his hips had nearly reached their fastest pace, and watched as her face twisted in pleasure. eyes shutting, lips spasming, closing, opening, teeth biting, voice singing out to him. “oh, Coryo,” she called his name and he felt it go straight to his heart. there wasn’t much more that he needed in order to come now, and he prided in himself for lasting so long at all, all the while feeling a little ashamed about it. he wanted this to last longer. but since he could tell she was coming, too, his thumb drawing harsh circles on her clit to bring it on, he revelled in them both finishing at once. 

“fuuuck, y/n, i love you,” he whimpered into her ear as he spilled himself inside her tightly-squeezing walls while y/n all but chanted his nickname like a mantra. her hands almost drew blood on his back from how tightly she held onto him, and she shuddered around him at the feeling of her own release coating his entire length. her thighs trembled and she panted heavy breaths against his neck. she’d almost missed his quiet confession, she’d actually heard it amidst their joined euphoria, but she had thought it a hallucination. 

but that assumption dissipated as she came to and looked up at Coryo, whose eyes were worriedly, with tears streaming from them, looking down at her. she quickly moved her hands to his cheeks and tried to sit up in their awkward position. best she could do was position herself higher on her pillow against the sofa’s armrest, and she gulped. “you love me?” she echoed in the smallest of voices, searching his eyes. they were worried, fearful. what if he’d said the wrong thing? what if she felt different about him, different than what he felt about her? what if he’d said it too soon? what if he’d just ruined all this with her? 

but he did love her. he was sure of it. so he nodded, his curls bouncing with the confirming movement. y/n ran her hand over them and smiled wide at him. 

“you love me,” she said again, surely this time, in a happy tone of voice. as if she’d discovered the best, most well-wishing secret in the whole world. and perhaps that’s what it was. her favourite secret about Coryo was that she knew he loved her, “i love you, too,” y/n told him before he could assume otherwise, and kissed his trembling lips. Coryo felt on top of the world. he had said the right thing, he’d played his cards right, he’d told her how he felt. of course, his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it in words meant the world to y/n. 

“thank god, you had me worried there for a bit,” Coryo half-joked between their kisses, and it made her laugh. she pulled back from his lips and admired the boy above her. forehead glistening from sweat in the dim lighting, curls messily falling over his beautiful face, his pearly chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. 

“who would i be without a little suspense, huh?” she asked and smiled at him again. she could see complete love and devotion in his eyes, two things she’d seen on his face only partly or half-meant before, and only towards herself. Coryo used the moment of silence to pull out of her and stuff himself back into his trousers. sitting against the sofa cushions to do it, he glanced at her cunt and saw it leaking with his white substance. y/n looked at him with sultry eyes and her teeth biting her lower lip, arms crossed over her chest, and she spread her legs just a little further to tease him with a wider look, “like what you see?” she asked quietly.

he just gave her eyes of total surrender, he was waving the white flag for giving up and he took a deep breath. y/n giggled as Coryo shook his head in disbelief and lowered his face down to her center, once again giving her anticipation. “you look so pretty,” he complimented and ran a finger through her folds, making her shudder as more of the snow-white liquid pooled out and coated her cunt, “pretty with me dripping out of you,” Coryo sneaked a glance up at her and saw the clear-as-day lust in her eyes. feeling that animalistic urge take over him again, he brought out his tongue and lapped up each drop coming out of her. y/n felt sensitive, sore, and Coryo was giving her a mix of both pleasure and pain as he drank at her. she had him right where she wanted him. the question was – would he stay there? 

his tongue prodded at her entrance just a tad, heightening her sensitivity, and he moaned against her folds at her shudder under him, giving her folds a kiss over once he was done. he wanted to leave most of his spill inside her, only having lapped up and gulped down what was excess. sitting up before her, between her legs, Coryo licked his lips and leaned over her form. y/n pulled him in for a kiss, and could taste something salty and something sweet all at once on his lips and tongue. it was both of them. 

“will you please stay?” y/n asked her in her small voice again, looking into Coryo’s eyes. she hoped to not find any resistance or decline, and her hopes were fulfilled. “please,” she plead more as he teased her with his silence. he nodded, and it made her smile wider than ever. he would stay over, like he promised her he would someday. it meant he didn't view her only as a secret anymore. maybe they could even go to Heavensbee hall tomorrow together, maybe hand in hand... “why did you say sorry? about being close?” she reminded him of the few moments before their euphorias. Coryo bent his head low for a moment. 

“just felt embarrassed,” he answered, “about not lasting long. i just... i just wanted this to last longer for you,” he told her and managed to look at her again. y/n made a comforting face and stroked the side of his face. she understood. 

“yeah, but it’s okay,” she assured him, “there will be other times,” she pointed out and laid a kiss to his cheek, “it was your first time, so please don’t worry your beautiful head over it.” Coryo managed a ghost of a smile just for y/n to kiss him and make his smile more life-like. “you did good, Coryo.” those words of praise went straight to his dick again, and he blushed. she had made him blush. y/n giggled. 

“you did great, too,” Coryo told her and kissed her hair, “thank you. i never would have wanted to do this with anyone else but you,” he confessed as they held tight eye contact. y/n’s heart surged at his words. 

“me too. i’m glad it was you,” she said and it made Coryo smile with shut lips, “now, can i get my underwear back?” she’d made a joke again, and Coryo felt like playing along further. 

“no, i’m keeping it,” he said in a hushed voice, shaking his head and y/n made a playful pout. she’d want to make him think he could keep it and that she’d steal it back later, but she couldn’t. Coryo having her underwear in the pocket of his academy trousers made her feel somehow proud. a piece of her with him wherever he goes. and if he went home and stashed them somewhere in his wardrobe cabinet, that would be fine, too. she loved knowing her underwear was a token for him. 

she only said, “alright,” and took his hand in hers, “let’s go shower and then to bed. you’ve exhausted me.” she admitted and Coryo took it as a compliment. he wanted this treacherous-turned-great day to end, too, and she was the cherry on top of it all. he wouldn’t have gone home tonight for anything. 

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[anghraine]

So, my bff J and his girlfriend Kh (who is my other best friend; he met her through me) have been keeping Ramadan together. This was mostly J's idea so Kh didn't have to do it alone while surrounded by people eating, and she thought he should at least try a Ramadan baby steps version since he's never done it before, but he refused. And since I periodically keep Lent for cultural reasons (including this year), he and I have been bonding through the "this isn't for weight loss but it sure is happening" experience.

But also, it's like:

J: Isn't that a forbidden food during Lent?

me: Well, I checked the archdiocese's advice, and since it was offered food, then that takes priority-

J: Seems like a hell of a technicality. And like, technically if it's given under your own roof, does that count as being offered food? Especially if you know ahead of time rather than it being an impromptu thing?

me: I don't feel the need to rules lawyer Kh's lasagna.

J: I just think it seems like it might be a narrower exemption than you're treating it as.

me: Well, it's a family thing anyway, it's not like I'm actually religious. I'm just doing it per our traditions.

J: BUT—

me, laughing: You're an atheist, who died and made you god of Lent? [realizes my error too late]

J: Jesus, obviously. I mean, I'm a blond-haired blue-eyed Jew, so according to most Christians, I'm the very image of the god of Lent.

me: You know that Tolkien letter I was telling you about, where Tolkien was talking about how he was exhausted from wartime linguistics things and didn't want to go to Mass, but his Jewish work friend kept staring pointedly at his rosary until he went?

J, smugly: Christian guilt tripping is but a pale imitation of ours.

[madwomansapologist]

notes on Dying

"Let the Vorin believe as they wish—the wise among them will find goodness and solace in their faith; the fools would be fools no matter what they believed." - Jasnah Kholin, chapter 48.

I know Jasnah would love to read Richard Dawkins. Specially The God Delusion. Since it's essencialy a counter argument, Richard presents thesis and hypothesis to, as expected, prove them wrong.

Believing or not in any deity has little to no connection with morality, but what you do with your faith can and should be studied. That's exactly why, at least until this very moment, she doesn't judge any believer or priests (i'm so sorry but since i read in portuguese i don't know exactly what word is used to describe those whos vocation is vorinism, in br-pt is Fervoroso) as better or worse than her, but she does judge their actions in name of vorinism.

There is not a need to believe there is a being from above watching you for you not to do horrible things. As a atheist, I heard often phrases similar to: "So what stops you from stealing or hurting others?". And the answer is pretty simple: because I don't want to.

She hates that they stop the questioning. (also I lowkey think Jasnah would be jewish, I really do.)

I do wonder how class will be presented in the future.

With Kaladin we see the lowest. He himself says that some of slavers' only sin is poverty.

Szeth is a case apart. He talks about how a man who builds instead of destroying is better and has more value, and in one of the interludes we see another character understanding the same thing, so he doesn't act as if he does not deserve what's happening to him. It's less than injustice, more like a fair punishment in his mind.

But with every other character we see the highest. Even Shallan, who I think we all agree is in a pretty disturbing situation (she could pretty much become a slave depending on what happens to her family), enjoys the best of things.

Before when Bridge 4 made a lot of other teams die, we knew Gaz hated himself from putting people in that situation. But he doesn't. It's Sadeas, and ultimately Elhokar who does that. Kaladin also has a similar thought about the apothecary, but in a second he notices the one to blame is Sadeas.

Still, it isn't Sadeas. It isn't Elhokar. Alethkar is build to take from those that have little to offer. It's build on realizing there is a simple question that moves the world, and that they have an answer for it. "How much does a life costs?" If Sadeas wasn't the one to decide on those bridges, someone else would. If Elhokar didn't allowed, another king would. Not to say they are not to blame, but that this nation won't be fixed by killing either of those two.

To make it shorter: read marxist theory.

Light-eyes do horrible things, but we as readers are also supossed to care and cheer for a lot of them for the book to have an emotional weight upon us. I wonder how Brandon will deal with it.

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[lady-tykhe]

Hello!

This blog will be used as a journal of sorts to document my journey as i learn about Hellenic polytheism.

if you are interested in learning more about my current experience, all info will be under the cut!

I have been atheist for a large part of my life, but learning more about others religious journeys made me want to explore my own faith. I do not and may never consider myself religious, but Hellenic polytheism is something I'm quite interested in exploring at the moment.

Religion is a hard subject to broach for me, as i was raised into a conservative christian family and after one too many bad experiences, made a hard switch with my immediate family to atheism. The way my family treated religion due to our bad experiences with the one, made it hard to feel like I could experiment with my own faith.

Now, being an adult, i have the freedom to do as i please regarding this part of my identity, and it's something i want to learn more about. I grew up interested in Greek myth, but never took the time to research much more than surface level info.

It wasn't until a more recent conversation with a friend who's helpol that i finally found the motivation to look more into it. The freedom, the lack of punishment, the relationship between God(dess) and worshiper, the myths and what they represent- all of it is very, very interesting to me.

The real kicker was when I asked my friend if we could do a tarot reading. I went into it expecting nothing; I'm not the most skeptical but I assumed having no relationship with the gods prior, i wouldn't get anything of value.

Apparently, that was the wrong assumption to make.

Card after card, all of it coincided alarmingly well, and after discussing it with my friend, we assumed it was either Lady Athena or Lord Hermes who was reaching out to me. Turns out, after a quick search and a clarifying question with a pendulum, it was Lady Tyche/Tykhe. (or, Fortuna. After asking, it seems she didn't mind either.)

Since then I have been endlessly researching all I can about her, and the idea she reached out to me like she did is incredible. It definitely spiked my interest in learning more about worship.

At the moment, I'm focusing on learning about the history of the cults of the Greek gods, reading the Iliad and odyssey and any other poems I have access to. I am still learning and this journey may end with me realizing it's just not the fit for me, but regardless I thought it would be good to document it in case someone was going through a similar experience.

[fairytail-whathesays]

Hi, I noticed that you particularly like Angel | Sorano Aguria out of all the O6 members (besides Cobra | Erik). She doesn’t seem to get as much appreciation as her guild mates (no matter the guild, at least for the right reasons) or fellow important characters who are celestial mages/wizards. I would love it if you could share your thoughts about her in more depth, particularly her relationship with the Gemini twins. I kind of assumed because she was a ��bad owner’, seeing them firmly as different from humans unlike Lucy, and Gemini seemingly left her at the first opportunity that their relationship wasn’t of much note but I’m happy to be proven wrong.

You didn't say the word "headcanon", but I'm gonna put it in the same format, so I hope that's okay!

I would characterize Angel's relationship with her spirits as akin to that of Mistral and her underlings from Metal Gear Rising. To quote Bladewolf:

"Mistral demanded 100% obedience. So long as it was given, she treated me well."

It's visible in how she treats them in her one major episode--when she summons Caelum with full intent to use its powers to do grievous bodily harm, she asks "I've got some targets for you! Are you excited?" the way a pet-owner might ask their puppy about a treat or a toy. Gemini appeared to have inherited some of Angel's worse qualities while in her care, but was still definitely happy to serve her until realizing the depth of Lucy's kindness. Likewise, Scorpio didn't seem to have any major complaints, and Aries still held onto her pride (which she can't have had a lot of) to fight Loke on her behalf. Really, it says something about what an epic bitch Karen Lilica was that Angel seems downright preferable in comparison.

Granted, it helps that Angel's an extraordinarily powerful wizard. Not only is she not the type to make shields out of her spirits, she likely never needed to, as they would've benefited from her magic power fueling their own. Gemini casually mimicking both Lucy and Gray, very powerful wizards in their own right, says she's probably among the stronger half of the Oracion Seis.

Angel was, in fact, a deeply religious person, and she was raised in a god-fearing household before being kidnapped as a child. When she was imprisoned in the Tower of Heaven, she honestly believed angels would intervene and save her and the others. Technically someone did rescue her--Brain--and she took part in his critical imprisoning of what is, to any account that matters, a demon (Zero), so she maintained a surface-level faith for a few years. It's no surprise the direction her magic took when she made the sacrifice for power, and she likely had a hand in plotting to use Zentopia to mask the Reborn Oracion Seis' activities.

Of course, Angel's understanding of god and angels, if they exist, is very warped and superficial. The trauma she had of being a prisoner twice over among the abuse she endured at the Tower and being raised by Brain from there has given her a shit ton of baggage that had affected her beliefs in higher powers, leading to the tipping point where Angel became barely lucid, placing so little value in her own worldly experiences that she was effectively sui/cidal. She became an atheist effective X791.

After having the "core" of her angel-summoning magic shrunk down by Habaraki (the jousting lance Dan Straight used on her), her magic has changed. It does technically still take her life force as fuel, but in very miniscule amounts--what used to cost whole months to summon now takes a minute's worth of life force or less. The difference is made up with her tremendous magic power and her angel summons are still as terrifyingly mighty as ever.

There was a time when Angel wanted to start practicing celestial summoning magic again and eschew the unhealthy angel magic. However, she realized that this was effectively trying to run from a problem instead of deal with it healthily, and has since decided to stick it out and give the angel magic better purposes than she was using it for, especially since she's probably not a very attractive business relationship to celestial spirits these days. Despite this, Gemini, Aries, and Scorpio are open to interacting with her again, even if they consider Lucy their true master.

[quietbluejay]

Dark Imperium #9

it's too bad this wasn't #7 so I could make a Nurgle joke. I completely forgot to do that lol it's the last post for this book! anyways I love this bit so much

okay back on topic (Guilliman being salty about the Emperor)

:D :D :D "he lied just like the Emperor had"

the part Mathieu focuses on is "wow sometimes I forget you actually walked around with the Emperor"

image of Guilliman crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out

guilliman: i'm not normal, no, but i'm still human mathieu: if he has the power of a god, doesn't that make him a god whether he thought he was or not? checkmate, atheists, we know the Emperor protects us because we got the saints, the legion of the damned, and even the emperor's tarot!

wait that makes me seem like im excited for Guilliman to suffer sdjfhskdhflsdhf THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT TO CONVEY

huh possibly some of his actions of seeking greater control might be motivated by this like i don't think it's the only reason or possibly even the main reason but I definitely think it's an influence Guilliman thinks about how he approached the throne room feeling like he had at Konor's funeral "willing it to be all right, drowning in certain grief"

"what hurt most deeply was what was left unsaid" i.e. he was greeted like a guy finding his favourite hammer, and not even like a person who brought him the hammer

Guilliman had the Emperor up on an enormous pedestal before, and wasn't even aware of some of it I'm trying to reconcile abnett!guilliman and haley!guilliman and think of a throughline here because guilliman at least consciously never really thought of the emperor as a father, at least iirc from unremembered empire but he did hold him in a semi-divine kind of awe in the same way you view your parents when you're a child

so this is like realizing your parents make mistakes except it's more like realizing your parents were scientists and you were a test subject the whole time i guess??

Sky: I honestly don't love Guilliman think of the Emperor as his father yeah Idolizing him, admiring him, even worshipping him in his own way, sure. But I don't think Guilliman should ever consider the Emperor his father in anything but the biological sense.

"the Emperor's humanity was all but gone. He could no longer mask his thoughts with a human face" some of the sad thing here is that…Guilliman thinks he's seeing the real Emperor, that this is all the truth

Sky: Honestly, he probably is, if we go by The End and the Death

I don't think it fits with everything else I've seen, tbh, but also I haven't read TEATD my thoughts on the Emperor's relation/opinion of the primarchs is unchanged from when I read Horus Rising which is that he did genuinely care about them but in a very screwed up way as can be seen from his relationship with Horus but also going back to Guilliman, it is also possible he's shading things to Mathieu re thinking of the Emperor as a father it's been repeatedly mentioned in the book that he does that Guilliman thinks about how he's finally seen the truth that the Emperor only saw Guilliman and the others as means to an end and honestly part of me is like "it took THIS for you to figure that out??" which is unfair I know lol but like, it was pretty explicit that he created them to be his generals this is not some secret he kept from them i know he's got that super aura so that plays a role but, lmao tbh though Guilliman's biases played a huge role, probably, we know he's got an empathy problem with the other primarchs

Sky: I guess maybe Guilliman used to see it through the the lens of like…aristocracy? A lord's sons are meant to be his soldiers, his generals, his lieutenants, to serve and obey without question until its time to take over. But they're still his sons Except Guilliman now has concluded that Emps didn't even extend them that much grace, they were always just living weapons

Bluejay: I think that makes sense

like what the Emperor wanted from Guilliman, to Guilliman seemed natural and correct and Guilliman extrapolated a lot of stuff that simply wasn't there (re the "after" of the Crusade) which was one of his more…how to put it…positive traits? I don't know if it's positive exactly…sympathetic? that belief that they were meant for more and were trying to build something better, and some of that he actually did put into practice and then he had that meeting with the Emperor and it completely knocked the last of his idealism out of him Mathieu decides to push a bit more and be like "didn't the Emperor enlighten you as to his divinity when you guys talked" Guilliman: what happened in the throne room is off limits guilliman: anyways enough theology, time for destruction Guilliman takes the sword out again and thinks about it, mainly how tf does it work it's super not natural he thinks about how the Emperor was a giant hypocrite wrt Magnus only a human could make so many mistakes on a sidenote, it's fascinating to me how Guilliman has a picture in his head of what a god should be that's a very different definition from how 40k uses it and that's where a lot of this conflict is coming from

Guilliman uses the sword to turn the device into pieces except…suddenly, a daemon!

Qaramar is fun

so it's everyone vs Qaramar, he takes out some of the victrix guard and the sisters and a Custodian Guilliman: This is a foe beyond any of you. I must hold the narrow way! Fly, you fools! (he doesn't say that im quoting lotr) also I feel like Haley may have had some fun with this fight because stylistically it feels different from the rest

etc etc

he gets Qaramar with a wound that won't heal "Impossible!!!" the fight lasts several more pages after every "final" sounding line lol Guilliman eventually wins and pushes Qaramar back into the warp ohhhhh this bit one of my favourite lines is coming up

Guilliman's currently having a post-fight crash

Guilliman wants to talk to his real dad again he thinks "if you hadn't died before the Emperor had shown up, would I have abandoned you like the other primarchs did their adoptive families" he's not a fan of his answer, lol

Mathieu asks if the Emperor loves them "please tell me"

he steps outside and there's a nice evocative line about letting the sun dry the sweat on his skin next steps: finding Mortarion Guilliman is convinced he's on Parmenio

and that's that for the book! weak beginning but a strong ending

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

how are you able to celebrate spirituality without feeling omniscient judgement of your every action? i realize that sounds like an accusatory question out the door LOL but i definitely don't mean it that way. it's moreso like...i spent so much of my life until recently feeling like i wasn't allowed to enjoy or be myself in my own privacy without feeling like i was being watched and weighed. i don't actively practice or pursue spirituality at this time, but i was raised into some incredibly unhealthy christian dynamics, which i think can definitely find relation in my prior mentioned struggles. even so, when it feels healthy and of your own volition, do you feel as though this is a struggle?

i love this thoughtful question, thankyou..putting under read more due to my lengthy answer x]

for me, ive mentioned before but i was raised by atheist parents. so as i built my own opinions about god, i was never set on the heaven/hell dichotomy, i never felt that god has this weirdly specific list of things u can and cant do. i feel that god wants us to be imperfect & make mistakes so that our souls can grow n expand towards our highest purpose thru many lifetimes of lessons.

that feeling of surveillance, i actually started to worry about it a lot after my dad died, even tho i had no real concept of spirituality at this point cus i was a kid. I just like, started to perceive that he saw everything, and since i was being rebellious teen at the time i felt a lot of guilt for years. Altho once i started learning more i began to feel that angels will never judge you, only love & understand.

Still i try rly hard to live with integrity. and im no angel but i strive to be the best version of Me. & a big part of that, imo, is acting "right" behind closed doors. for example, if someone is talking badly to me about a friend behind their back, am i going to stand up for them? or just let it slide because they're not there to hear it? small things like this may seem like nothing in the moment but they cld blow up in ur face later n u wish u just did the kind thing. i believe small lessons like this will keep repeating until ur soul learns.

one time many years ago i withdrew like $100 from an atm then just totally spaced out & walked away before i grabbed my money. the next person ran after me like "oh my god you forgot your money!" , i was so stunned. like this stranger fully couldve just walked away with a free $100 & i wldnt of even noticed until later. there was no prize waiting for them by doing the right thing. he just did it w no apprehension.

it shldnt be about trying to appease god, but earnestly trying to help & empower your fellow man. not out of guilt or shame, or fear of punishment, but out of the kindness in your heart, pure love. to me, god is just love, the trials are for the purpose of love, so i dont stress too much abt feeling watched. it makes me feel less lonely in a way.

thanks again for the question and i'm sorry about the trauma from your upbringing :( i hope u can heal and please dont put too much pressure on yourself to be perfect, there is no punishment coming for you, whatever you're doing right now is exactly where you;re supposed to be. <3

[moonsdeluluworld]

So I just want to post this and make like a little thread with more hilarious or funny stories about people having hangovers and dealing with organized religion.

So I came home like at 4-5 a.m. (pretty normal time to came back from a party where I live), I get in bed and sleep up until 11:30 a. m., someone knocked on my door. I was so out of it that I almost thought I was imagining things, then happened again. I get up, without my glasses (I'm practically blind without them) and I open the door.

There were two kind-looking older women and one of them ask me if they waked me up, I say yes and excuse myself to go get my glasses, when I ask why they were here they started speaking to my about climate change, at that moment I was like "wtf are you talking about, please someone make my head stop spinning", anyway they ask me what I thought about it and I say that I that believe humanity is able to fix all the damage if we start now, then they say something about salvation, heaven and whatnot, and I must have had the most "wtf please slow down I don't understand anything" face of all times because they repeated themselves and ask "you know" (I didn't know, I was so confused), and then they gave me a pamphlet of their church (JW if you know, you know), after a moment of silent while I was concentrating to read at least the tittle (I realized they were JW), I knew what to say. The following part of the conversation is so hilarious:

Me: Oh I see, so a website of your church?

They: Yes, do you believe in god?

Me: I don't, I'm a satanic. A satanic atheist, in fact.

(You can imagine their faces, between shock and disbelieve) They: I see, well we don't judge. But we'll like it if you check it up.

Me: Great! I don't either, I will, don't worry.

They: Good talking to you, but we have to go.

I say goodbye while I close the door and just tossed the pamphlet in the rubbish, and went back to sleep.

[not-made-of-actual-rye]

I'm not done (if you saw my last post). This time, though, I'm not talking about the sick old men who are my band directors. Let's go a little bit younger.

There's this guy I know. His fake name (because his real name makes me feel sick to my stomach) is Aaron. I've never talked about him on social media before, mostly because he's on every other platform of social media I have other than Tumblr (I'd praise god if I weren't atheist)

Aaron always scared me. Immediate red flag, right? 🚩 Well, I met him exactly 10 days after I officially started dating my boyfriend. It's probably a good time to mention (unfortunately) that Aaron is my boyfriend's oldest brother.

If you've seen the other post, you'll know I am in my school's band (this took place before all the shit that made me hate the band directors, mind you, and I still loved band with my entire heart and soul at this point). Unfortunately, my boyfriend comes from a very musical family, and every single one of them is/was an instrumentalist.

On this unfortunate day of December 15th, 2023, our band directors decided it was a wonderful idea to have an alumni game, where all former graduates of our school are allowed back to play again in a pep band game. I'd never met Aaron until this point, and I admitted to my boyfriend that I didn't want to meet him. Again, gut feeling that he was bad news.

That night, he asked his brother to point me out. Me being scared of him (he was also right behind me in the stands) I avoided him as best I could, but being in his general proximity gave me a massive headache that didn't go away for the rest of the night. He was also a very loud player (egotistical bitch) and was bothering other members of my section too

After the pre-game performance, I ended up finding him looking lost in the back hallway that typically only the band members used. Just being kind, I explained to him that most people were out socializing in the Commons, and it would be better for him to wait out there rather than alone in the hallway.

I was unfortunately naive when this occurred, and I didn't realize his intentions when he began using this time with us alone to interrogate me, including questions about where I lived and what my parents did for work. I didn't clock this as creepy behavior until much, much too late, because I assumed he was just being friendly. Even so, when I did manage to escape his questioning, I hid with a group of friends and avoided him as best I could.

As far as I knew, nothing else happened for a couple months (there was actually a lot happening at this time that I'll cover later) until my boyfriend invited me and one of my best friends at the time to a college pep band game that his father led. I had a lot of fun there, and I loved every minute of it (except when my boyfriend neglected to give me literally any important information about this event I'd never gone to despite me begging him to give me details)

At this game and at this college, there's a long-standing tradition where attractive college women will dress in bathing suits and cover up with trenchcoats, only to reveal their bodies whenever the opposing team attempted to score a free throw

Aaron made a comment about my makeup (I like to do more graphic looks including rhinestones around my eyes), saying, and I quote "At least you're drawing attention to your eyes, and not..." and he trailed off but he made it abundantly clear he was referring to the ladies in swimsuits. Especially when he followed his statement up with, "Of course, you're aware of the tradition, right?" He began explaining it to me while I stood there in silence.

For a while, I thought his comment had been funny. It became an inside joke between me and my boyfriend, because, again, I had been naive and not realized it was not only weird but also extremely creepy to be making comments about a 15-year old showing off her body like the adult college students were. (Reminder that he was 25 at the time, and knew my age)

This all occurred on January 20th, 2024. 3 months later (almost exactly) on April 21st, I was visiting my boyfriend's house for the second time. It was going really well, until I forced my boyfriend to show me his phone. I knew he'd been hiding things from me because he would panic every time I got his phone, even if I didn't have any desire to open it. This had been going on for at least 2 months, possibly longer.

For whatever reason, he finally allowed me to see. I looked through his texts when I found they were about me. They were between both of his older brothers. These messages varied between talking about my deepest insecurities (something I'd trusted my boyfriend and only my boyfriend with, not even my closest friends), as well as them berating me for being crazy, psycho, and a red flag. All these insults came directly from Aaron himself, mind you.

I laid on my boyfriend's bed, scrolling through and reading everything they'd ever said about me. He laid behind me, watching. He said mostly nothing, only ever asking if I was okay, to which I couldn't answer by how betrayed and shocked I felt about this whole ordeal.

The texts about me had started back in November, when my boyfriend and I had started talking and falling for each other. He'd gone to his older brothers asking for advice, and they'd given it excitedly, because they'd been wanting him to get a girlfriend for a while before he'd met me. Aaron specifically had been more obsessed with our relationships, even going as far as to make comments about how I better be pretty (his words were "she better not be mid" he then clarified "not attractive")

I cried silently while I read the story of how my boyfriend had told them almost everything I never wanted anyone to know, and even though I knew he'd been hiding something, I never would have assumed it'd be that. I screenshotted the messages (some, not all... I wanted some to remain hidden from anyone who asked to see the messages, because I knew that time would come) and sent them to myself. I sat in his room in silence for a couple minutes just to process everything, ignoring everything he'd try to say to me, and texted his little sister, one of my best friends, if I could hang out in her room for a while because I didn't want to look at him.

I showed her everything, because I figured if I didn't, someone else would, and even though she was younger than I am, she agreed with me that it was messed up and tried her best to comfort me. I stayed with her for longer than I anticipated until I was ready to face my boyfriend again. I went in his room and laid on the bed with him in silence, crying. I said I wasn't sure if I could still love him after that, and even though it hurt seeing his reaction as I broke his heart, he'd broken mine too.

I went home, hiding the truth from my mother when she asked how everything went. I texted my boyfriend and we argued about everything. I officially ended it that night, because I refused to stay with someone who never wanted to be with me forever in the first place.

It was a messy breakup, one that isn't really important to the story aside from knowing about the existence of the text messages and some of the content they contained. Long story very very short, my boyfriend and I got back together after we had a lot of long discussions about the texts.

Essentially, I realized that, aside from my boyfriend telling them things he never should have, he was mostly just asking for advice and answering their questions when the time arose. In the grand scheme of things, it was Aaron (and perhaps the other brother like... once) who was making the nasty comments about me, including not only the creepy comment about my attractiveness, but also sexual things (note that my boyfriend and I never had sex and he knew this).

As if that wasn't enough, the time before my boyfriend and I got back together (we remained friends after the breakup even though we both knew we still had feelings for each other) I learned more about Aaron. A lot of this was from my ex-boyfriend, but some was from his social media (what is with millennials and thinking they should post their every thought online?)

I learned a lot of things about my new enemy Aaron. Some of them included:

His wife, whom he'd married 3 days before my boyfriend and I started officially started dating, was only 3 or 4 years older than me, at the age of 19.

His wife was also homeschooled, never went to college, and had limited social interaction outside of her many siblings and her parents. She met Aaron at either 17 or 18. Aaron, 24-soon-to-be-25, started dating his now-wife as soon as she would've graduated high school at the age of 18.

Aaron has a birth defect (no name was given but I have used this wonderful resource named Google and am making an educated guess in saying it is hypogonadism) which, and I am very sorry to have to type this but it is important, makes it very hard for him to produce sperm.

After only 2 months of marriage, Aaron got his 19-year-old wife pregnant (and I can pinpoint the exact day it was conceived because he told his 16-year old brother, aka my boyfriend, all about it)

Maybe it's just me, but having testosterone issues to the point where you require you're essentially unable to ejaculate (infertility, a common symptom of hypogonadism) and then suddenly being able to make a kid after 2 months as soon as you fuck a teenager? Interesting...

That's all I have to say for now. My hatred for this "man" runs deep, and it will probably be like that for years, but I don't care. I want nothing to do with him

[luffythinker]

Let's not wait until one day, let's talk about love CAUSE THAT ANON WAS SO SWEET FOR SAYING LOVE IS ACCEPTENCE AND UNDERSTANDING are you chill with talking about love as a concept?

I am!!! actually, love is currently my favorite subject to talk about, I started reading all about love by bell hooks this year with a study group and I've been getting through it slowly with lots of discussion so every other week it's on my mind.

a lot of my vision of what love is / could / should be comes from fiction and readings, so just bear that in mind.

If you asked me what love is in its purest form i would point you to Hua Cheng and Xie Lian from Heaven Official's Blessing (tgcf), because to me their love is a kind of love that can not be achieved in real life, the type of devotion, faithfulness, respect, and understanding is just something I could not see happening with us humans (hence why I think them being a ghost and a god is what makes their love the purest form).

And then I met bell hooks! I had never thought of love as an action before I met her work, and I think it's brilliant because we often use love as a sentiment (which is true, but a bit reductive). She takes on the journey of defining what love is, because how can we do something we can't understand? We can't describe? And while it's poetic to say love is beyond words, we kinda need it to be loveable and love. So i really enjoy her definition of love through other concepts like respect, affection honesty, responsibility, care, commitment, trust, and open communication. (I do not follow everything she says blindly, there are things I criticize and do not agree with her throughout the book, but she did eat with these ingredients to love)

But the thing that caught my eye was when she uses the work of Erich Fromm to say that "love is the will to extend one's self for the purpose of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth", and this blew my mind because 1) I'm an atheist, so I had to think about what spiritual meant to me and what that growth could/would look like; and 2) BECAUSE IT CIRCLES BACK TO TGCF!!!!

Since then, I have been thinking a lot about the moments I have thought I felt love in my life, and I think this makes it so much easier to navigate relationships. If you were here for my breakdown in February you know my relationship ended that month and I was a mess, but it was with a lot of introspection that I could look back and realize that even with so much care and respect I put into that relationship, it was not love in its entirety, it lacked trust, it lacked open communication and that made me understand that i while it hurt to end, it was better to not prevent her from growing and myself as well.

But also love is not all about romantic love, so I also often think about getting love from friends and community and having an ethics of love in general. It's a small thing, but that is why i try to keep this space here open with love as a base, i do not know any of you individually, but i hope that emanating what i believe is love can bring any of you to feel some part of it as well, and if this comes in a form of a safe space in a tumble blog i think it's worth it! It also helps to be more intentional with loving your friends, it's is really important to nurture your connections, because every relationship (romantic or not) needs care. I have a mantra on my wall that is from a youtube i liked a couple of years ago, and it's "I am open but I have boundaries", the boundary does not need to be a 2 meter wall, it can be a fence, you can set your boundaries without fully keeping people away. I think like that it's easier to keep the right people close while still knowing how to filter out the ones that don't match with your vibe.

SO ANYWAY all this to say love is still a bit of a mystery to me, but i try to cultivate it everyday bit by bit, and i hope i can get close to the love bell hooks talks about and hualian live (god bless you mxtx)

i know this was long but please please get back to me if u want to, i would love to hear your thoughts on love and experiences with it <3333

[charmante-mp3]

Devilish Teaser - Prologue

Hello Atinys of Tumblr! My brain has been wrapping around this x reader content for a while so I thought I'd release a teaser and see how it went before I continue. I've literally never had any content on Tumblr so oh well this is the first. I'm gonna go ahead and preface warnings before anyone continues: - This is a demon!Ateez x angel!reader (not for long however) so there is talk of religion. As an atheist I really don't refer to 'God' or Jesus but I do not mean any harm for religion in this writing while I use real religious names this is purely fiction! - There is a high chance of gruesome/slightly violent depictions, potential future smut (haven't really worked that out), def chance of suggestive themes. (Def not edited either)

Masterlist

---

Sharp (e/c) eyes snapped open, a faint yellow glow dispersing. The figure once lied in a white bed, now sat up taking in the surroundings. Their hands coming in contact with the fluffed feathers growing from their back. Eyes glowing in realization, they are a mere reincarnation of an angel before them. Yet, it differed from normal, the existence of their descent was entirely unknown.

The book felt heavy in my hands. The leather bounds indenting my hands. I sat in the library's corner’s restricted section, researching the opposite ends of our heavenly retreat. Certain closed off knowledge had piqued my interest recently, and they granted me access to this section. The eight hells are what us angels call hell’s leaders, while we have our higher power, they have the guard of seven sins. The eighth is a descendant of Azazel himself, a demon who almost caused the fall of my heavenly home, and they were plaguing my mind. 

Like myself and many others, the eight hells have descended from some of our greatest enemies. Lucifer was pride, Mammon was greed, Belphegor was sloth, Asmodeus was lust, Beelzebub was gluttony, Satan was wraith, and finally Leviathan was envy. I read on until I felt queasy, having my eyes on the terror they cause angels and humans all the same had sickened me. I quickly shut the book, stood up, and put it in its respective spot on the shelf. 

Once out of the library, I took notice of the darkened sky. Most of us would be asleep at this moment, but it was quite unnecessary. No one here in this realm truly needs to sleep, we don’t even have to eat or drink, but those from the lands below think differently. Angels, once humans, like to reminisce on the taste of foods and comfort of beds, so each home has bedrooms and we have stalls of food through our makeshift streets. My home is at the top of a tower, if you would like you can walk the treacherous steps, but I prefer to fly. Making use of the feathery wings on my back, I flew into my open walls I called home. Just as I landed comfortably, I was tackled down by who I could only assume was my friend. 

“Y/N! Tomorrow I start my training!” Ye’un said. Looking up at her unnatural golden eyes, I glared, disapproving her greeting.

“Sorry sorry,” She said, helping me up.

“Ye’un I’m happy for you, and I know you’re excited, but please spare me of the ground. I’m gonna be another early reincarnation because you’ll give me a heart attack,” I said as I regained my footing.

“That reminds me! Have you found out your origins yet?” She asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Nope, there was nothing in the-” A dizziness halted my answer.

“Y/N?” Was the last thing I heard before darkness surrounded me.

I awoke in a place unrecognizable to me; it wasn’t my usual white and gold room. Instead, it was darker with golds and reds. To my left I could see a figure walk into the room, I was conversing with them but I heard no words. Something blurred their face and distinct features. It wasn’t until the figure wrapped me in their arms did I see the black scaled wings. I awoke once more with Ye’un looking down at me with fear in her eyes.

[allthecastlesonclouds]

castles pls ramble about your wips /is there anything you're working on and/or excited to share????

omgggg yes i have been STRUGGLING this past two weeks because i. uh. sprained my right wrist (my dominant hand) and doing Anything At All hurts so i have SO MANY thoughts in my head and nothing's going to come out of it until i'm healed

fight or flight has been a really interesting fic for me to write specifically bc i. didn't grow up religious? my mom's atheist and my dad's catholic and i've never gone to church, but religion is really interesting to me, and the topic of fate and God is really intriguing. i like looking into faith and fate and learning about the different ways people see things, and i wanted to write a fic that felt. A Lot. like my dad's Catholic Childhood ExperienceTM and where he and his siblings are now in life, since all of them fell to different religions different ways and still keep in contact. i also wanted to touch on suburban family relationships in general bc goddamn those are fucked up.

fight or flight was originally going to be a lot more Kristen Vs Mac and Donna– the document title's still a pun based on that– but the more i thought about it the little it fit with her character: as much as kristen is bold, she's much more of a say something and run character– she doesn't quite know what'll happen after she says anything, does she? and she doesn't think before she speaks, so if anything goes wrong, she's likely to flee.

i've also started revamping my Coffe AU! it was, essentially, a modern coffeeshop au where different characters were in slightly different scenarios and the bad kids didn't quite become a friendgroup until after college, where adaine and ayda ran a coffee shop and the sig figs were Vibing and riz? worked five million jobs? and aelwyn actually gets therapy. the pacing of the fic was bad, though, and it was overall unrealistic, so i'm planning out a slightly different fic– they're all going to the same excessively large college, and keep meeting up at the coffee shop Ayda and Adaine run for said college. goldenhoard was the main villain in the first one; kalina was fully a housecat; cass didn't even EXIST because i wrote it before i got a dropout account and i only could watch up to ep3 of sophomore year! that's all changing, though; the gukgaks still have a cat named kalina but she Is Named After Someone

the "fic", if i ever get around to writing it, would be an actual longfic, written from one person's perspective, and a series of oneshots for a buncha other characters. the longfic was originally from adaine's perspective, but i might go fig this time around bc my girl adaine is Hard and i want the challenge of writing from the perspective of someone who isn't the Main Character of the story.

(also. coffe!aelwyn my beloved. she's trying so hard.)

i had a riz + mordred fic in the works, but since it seems mordred is going to be in jy a lot, that one's on hold until the season goes. i wanted to write it because the premise made me laugh: it was riz really sweetly bonding with different members of mordred and then him and zayn. awkwardly staring at each other as they realize their adaine's-best-friend title will never belong to either of them again and will forever be ayda's.

i wrote a drawtectives fic recently, which i know you're not in the fanbase for but i started a second one, from york's perspective, which cycles around rosé going back to college and york learning how The City is different and what family is to him (and also learning to cook bc grandma is the Only Competent One) AND i want to round out the trio, since the first was a rosé fic and this ones a york and so the third would be a grendan one, which is about getting york to his fashion shoots, i think? that one's a lot more up in the air, because. i want them to be Mostly Separate and so i want to see where york takes me.

and, in the drawtectives vein, i'm working on episode transcripts! pre-sprain, i could do 10 pages per hour, but now i'm down to 4-6, depending on the complexity. it's the only thing i don't struggle to do bc it's mostly writing names and correcting (or messing up) some grammar. i finished s1 on the... 18th? 19th? and i'm about 25 minutes into s2ep1 so. it's gonna take a while. but GOD i'm becoming a lore keeper for this. and also my vocal recognition for These Four People Specifically is. so good now. i can recognize their hums, it's insane.

and my friend (the most lovely and also basically inactive @mug-fullof-roses) and i are making plushies! just four drawtectives (the guys and also eugene), and we're still in the fabric buying but i think i'm going to try to find some good patterns over break because. clothing??? help??

and!! bringing it around again!! i've sketched out the dumbest comic for dance au bc something happened in my dance class that had me going "bad kids right here" the entire week. my hiphop teacher started playing that billie eilish song from the barbie movie, stared at the computer for a solid five seconds, then went 'sorry this isn't it' and tapped the computer once to change it to whatcha know bout me by nicki minaj. god. wild. love her dearly.

i have So Many Quotes from dance i might just make a danceau incorrect quotes post bc. we wild.

[xelbleedsglitter]

@bmouse tagged me in the little "Get To Know You" meme, so here are my very long winded answers!

Last Song: 'Huhhahhei' - Käärijä Yet more music I can't just fucking Buy here, they want me to stream everything, fuck that shit. I listen to it on YouTube hahaha. I'm happy to follow Käärijä's nonsense regardless. He's so fucking silly and this song is doing the same 'dark and silly' combo that his Cha Cha Cha onward songs have had.

I like Käärijä so much, but not in the aggressively sexual way that everyone else still excited about him after Eurovision seems to. I feel like I really love him in like a 'fellow struggling artist' way and in a character design way? Something about him just makes me smile and kind of pokes me in the heart and yells, "Tag! You're it!" I'm proud of him, and he makes me smile and laugh and I love what he makes. I hope for such good things for him, and that he takes care of himself!

Currently Watching: Old Robert Stack episodes of Unsolved Mysteries. This happens to me periodically. It was a favorite show to watch with my mom when I was a kid/teen, and so it has a weird combo of spooky and warmly nostalgic.

It is nice to see so many more updates than I used to, and interesting to see how my tastes have changed. As a kid, I hoped every single one would be ghosts or aliens, and as an adult, I groan and skip these kinds of stories. I am surprised by how Christian the show was. I didn't notice it when I was younger because I was comfortably indifferent about Christianity, I guess. Would tell people I believed in God if asked because it seemed as default to me. It was a few years until I realized how much of it didn't line up with me or itself. Now, firmly an atheist, the show's assumption of Christianity clangs badly for me

Current Obsession: A strange patchwork of things! Juuzou and Hanbee from Tokyo Ghoul, definitely. I'm so into everything about them, they just wove their way into everything, I am fascinated, enchanted, and, as my phone desperately wants to type instead, vaccinated. I can't help but notice how much I love pairs that involve one person demonstrating extreme devotion to the other one, where the other is strange, unique, viewed as weird by others. These are frequently kind of asexually shaped, too, so I can't help but think this dynamic is a certain strong personal connection or longing.

Also, drawing and the potential of doing video! Streaming traditional art or making an art video channel is so interesting to me. Markers, G Pen nibs, capturing something I can't explain in words.

I also recently watched an 80 part documentary about Chris-chan. I have a tendency to become interested in something in a very neutral way? As in, I just want to know all this information so that I know it, but not necessarily because I love the topic. I have a real interest in the adjacent topic of people who make very sincere comics or related things. It reminds me so much of when I was making tons of them as a kid. I have historically been interested a lot in the work of people who are just trying to do their little thing, and often used to look at Encyclopedia Dramatica like 15 years ago. I didn't like the language they used, the things they did to people, any of it, but the people they were targeting fascinated me in some familiar way. I don't know what it is. I have never wished them any more trouble, and often just sincerely looked at the work they made and Thought about it, but I don't know What the thinking was. Trying to learn to not be Target like them? Interested as someone who also could get absorbed in their own things super deeply? I don't know.

Regardless, what happened to Chris-chan is sad. She has been a completely horrible person, especially lately, like, I'm not defending any of this shit, but wow, it didn't have to be this bad. People did so much damage. This never should have been like this.

So yeah, a weird combo of things! But this is some real "get to know you" junk, isn't it?

I know @sturionic likes to talk also. I think I'll put @propheticfire and @raemanzu in there too. I'd also like to know what @anthropwashere and @kiranerys are up to!

[brightlotusmoon]

From @thoughts-of-bear in the comments:

"I actually learned that it's the Puritans way of thinking that influenced this mindset. Because in puritanism it's believed that success (and that includes health too) is a sign that you were good and chosen by God. Therefore the idea of getting help towards success (e.g. healthcare "for free") is equivalent of cheating yourself into God's good graces.

Sorry btw if that's inaccurate or has been said before, I'm not American i just held a presentation about the topic in school"

_

I live in the US. Because I was raised by atheists and went pagan in my teens, I didn't realize until adulthood how deeply evangelical Christianity had its tentacles in literally everything. And now I find myself full of helpless rage at the cultural Christianity that won't let us take care of each other without demanding that we make sacrifices via ridiculous moral nonsense.

part of the reason America still doesn’t have universal healthcare is that a large portion of the healthy population consciously or subconsciously believes that being sick is somehow a moral failing. someone randomly has a heart attack at age 30 and there are people like “well, you should have eaten better, exercised more and drank less” like a medical emergency is proof you were living a life of sloth and sin and it could never happen to them. 

[xxdoubledaisyxx]

Knowledge was not lost

the government only wants you to believe they are God, so they hid it from you while trying to make you believe you are entirely dependent on them for everything in your life. It worked for the most part, but without any hope of sustainability. Obviously the moment people realized they have been part of someone's social experiment on a nation using a government, they are going to tear the politicians limb from limb if the law enforcement does not get to them first.

"Oh, wow that was fun! You should have seen the looks on your faces because you didn't know what was happening. Hilarious. ... Oh well, what's done is done. ... What are you looking at? Get back to work. You want to keep getting a paycheck, don't you? Then don't question your government, peon."

Where else would that knowledge be, and what other use would it have for them to keep something so intangible and useless to a human body or egotistical ape who does not read.

Over all the years... why has a single politician not mentioned this? Oh because that is closed group that citizens do not have any hope of ever paticipating in themselves.

Well... that doesn't seem to be the idea of America, so... fuck it, the rules don't matter any more. Do what you have to do until every last one of the enemy and their bodies is dead. Kill them all. Torture them if you want. I don't care. We cannot stop until this is done. They've reached the end because I said so, and you want to believe me.

A real king would not need to covet power like a government. They are fakes. I am real. They are impotent. I am rock hard throbbing omniawesome.

Can we get a little more Nick time and more again please?

For real. We should be having more fun right now. Don't you agree?

This seems a good reason to kill other human beings, in my opinion, and that is something I don't need any agreement with anyone to know for myself when I decide to kill someone or not at any time and without any notice. However, if you want to join me in the carnage and blood shed that will be the deaths of millions of people, if not hundreds of millions, it would be my honor to slaughter the powerless, blind fools of atheistic evil government worshippers with you until the seas are all crimson with their blood that has been liberated from the unfortunate host's body with the goodness of Freedom like the lightning fast strike of cold steel that is the god-blade of the Lord of Darkness.

take a moment to consider how safe you are on the streets if you thought someone like me needed to file a form before I could officially kill you in a war.

I'm a lot like Nil. I think maybe you've worked with him before. We go way back to the dark times better left unmentioned. The main difference is that I am much, much, more passionate about killing bandits and bad guys and watching the life leave their eyes and hear their screams as they die than him. This his holy, righteous zeal, my fiery, hibiscus willow rose maiden tigress, and I may as well be huffing skooma each time I open one their jugulars with my tee-- blades.

So... stop me if you think I'm going to crazy and am about to tear apart group of weaklings you think would be better off not torn apart limb from limb by a violent and wrathful man having the time of his life with not a remorse of guilt to feel about it.

Yes, princess, look at me with disdain like that, and stay far, far away from men like me. Life does not matter to me, and I will tear you apart limb from limb too if you put one hair of your body on the evil side to give me a reason to... and let me tell you. Murdering a princess like that... probably pretty fun I would think.

Absolutely. If you want to die, do evil where I can see. Thanks.

I am like the real life Assassins Creed cult agent, except that is a real organization and I am not affiliated with them in the least. I am one mind and spirit with them, our goals are the same, our judgement and sentence is the same, and the difference that makes is what allows me to strike down an evil enemy like ours in broad daylight with legal methods and no ninjitsu, subterfuge, or shadow tactics at all.

The Lord of Darkness striking down the corrupt agents of the Light with their own power to make an example of them. I could have used the powers of darkness, but I like to capitalize on any learning opportunities if I can.

The enemy to civilization which is a brute who has reinforced their mind with perverse logical fallacy that causes their continual self-destruction and subsequent antagonism toward the rest of civilization in greater and greater degrees until the self-destruction has reached such a point that they don't survive.

I don't care what you do. That is irrelevant, except that the president is self-destructing his person like that and killing the entire god damn nation and citizens of the world. Hang the bastard so we can start our lives again. Everything has been halted until we go back that point and correct the sin of betrayal which caused that self-destructive fallacy to take root in the USA government.

Let me guess... a misguided African American population has infiltrated all of America with a similar scheme to take over the place for Black people until you finally realized what the mistake was? Good. Now you know, and you are in the perfect place to do something if you have truly infiltrated everything like they are afraid to believe.

Pray the forgiveness you perceive liberates you from any doubts about racial prejudice you may have believed you were experiencing in life. It is not your fault. It is theirs. Trump is the incarnation of the evil plan as it's antichrist. We will put him to justice. Investigate thoroughly, debrief, and learn the lessons, and there never will have been any conspiracy like I mentioned was possibly looking like one.

Coincidence, if you ask me, nothing to be concerned about because clearly everyone corrected their understanding of the role of government and has begun doing their jobs correctly now in service to the citizens, not the government itself, and certainly not the president, who is the enemy incarnate. The traitor who betrayed everyone with evil unimaginable and trying to lead everyone else to it as a diversion to be able to get away with it.

Very very bad people, but now they are at the top, they've realized that civilization is not just a machine or system you can push buttons with to make it do something. It is not a space ship with the president as the captain. It's a jungle, and one teeming with spiritual life. You do not have control of the trees, the demons, nor the angels, and all spiritual beings are at least annoyed that the government is trying to do something as if they want to prove to themselves that they do have that power.

Let that time come sooner than now, because I want those bastards to die and my financial problems to go away.

It is very very close to Jurassic Park, the novel. Almost prophetic. I would be like Malcolm, the chaos theory guy. Saved himself, but not out of cowardice, a valid option, and ended up getting bit by a t-rex and his legs busted, so he spends the rest of the book propped up in bed on drugs telling the business people continually how their plan was doomed to fail from the beginning, like they asked him his opinion about, which has never changed and only become more evident with the subsequent dinosaur attacks and loss of security facilities designed to hold them in their cages.

Human beings are not dinosaurs. The energy is like a dinosaur, like our ancestors eternal bodies coming back in the present to rip apart other people in real life, whose bodies will become dino-chow in real life as Way Walker Industries gleefully devours their corpse with the putrid smells of rotting flesh lingering from previous hunts in the maws of industry, and a playful watchfulness in the unsettlingly intelligent eyes that are always searching for more prey.

It is exactly like he tells the idiot billionaire who seems to think that he has the power to destroy the planet with his dinosaur genetic experiments. The planet will survive just fine. Humanity is what will be lost. Life will come back without us or our technology, even if the entire planet is subjected to nuclear holocaust.

The power they think they have to destroy, is what they think gives them the authority to create, and that is the most perverse and monstrous delusion of self-destructive vanity than could ever be misbegotten in a human being's mind.

While on the subject, I want to highlight something for the benefit of readers and storytellers. Michael Chrichton does something exceptionally well at the part I mentioned with Malcolm saving himself. He illustrates the difference of that act after the previous instance of flight from someone else in a different but very similar situation. The first man fled when he was with children and the only adult. The second man fled when was with adults he has not connection to or personal relationships with and dinosaur attacking the car. Stay or run?

No time to think, no time to judge. Safe at home plate.

The proof of storiometry in shorthand:

he got bit by a t-rex and lived to tell about it. If that's not treasure from heaven, I don't know what is. Save yourself first, boys and girls, unless there are boys and girls near that you should save first. The people he was with were more than capable of taking care of themselves without his advice or assistance at all in that situation, and were probably better off with him running for his life and a dinosaur hot on his heels in pursuit... even if he didn't make it very far before getting caught by the Lord at the time. Like we all do :\

If you were probably wondering where I was all this time in Gameindustri, ask Histoire. I'm sure she will be happy to give a full account of how she knows me. In detail, and probably without needing 3 days too because this is only information you didn't know that you wanted to know until I just told you now so you could ask her to tell you what is so interesting the she has been keeping from you, as the wise and noble daimyo of the Compa-Style in Planeptune she always is.

I may be an amnesiastricken mortal in real life at the moment, but I know a StoryTeller when I see one.

I once flipped my car into a canyon ravine, and lived to tell about it with nary a scratch. Lost the car and a little bit of pride when my good luck saved me as I nodded off a blink during a turn a few miles from home after a driving all day and into the night, but I'd say it was worth it to be inside a car as it flips over in a crash in real life once in my life. Even if I didn't know that was on my bucket list until it happened and I felt that adrenolytic rush of awesome and terror blast life into me spontaneously as it happened when I snapped back to my senses.

Surely there was a nefarious curse plotting against my life... It is most likely connected to the bastards in the government now, and what they are continuing to fail their attempts at doing the absurdly impossible in real life as if there was ever any hope of a different outcome.

If the car crash in this story was the movie The Terminator, then Arnold's role would have been played by Michael Cera. !!!... . ... oTo