#[r]: mercy

[slickchickchocolatier]

H I S M A R K : H E E T H A N

WARNINGS: SMUT (UNPROTECTED), DUBCON TO NONCON SMUT, OVERSTIMULATION, SYMBOLISM, MARKINGS, YANDERE LOVE, OBSESSION, POSSESSIVE, MENTIONS OF MURDER, MISSING PERSON, FORCED LOVE, ISOLATION, CURSING, RESTRAINING, SOLITARY CONFINEMENT, HATE SEX, ANGRY SEX, MAYBE MAKEUP SEX, NOT PROOREAD (YET).

NOTE: THIS TAKES PLACE RIGHT BEFORE THE LATEST EVENTS OF HHP.

‘Let me tell you a story…

It is a tale that takes place before God created angels, and the continents spoke in ancient dialect.

Less stars filled the night sky, and the planets lingered in a straight line. Mortals in their youth stared and admired these stars, and drafted tales based on their alignment. Stories of The Big Dipper, and Orions Belt came to life, fulfilling philosophers with ideas and astronomers with hope. Amongst these glittering specters, was the Goddess of the Moon.

Unlike those around her, she laid in lonesome silence, and invisible to all who stared at the sky. Residing in her shadowed kingdom, she cries out of sorrow, for no light emerged from her home. In truth, she was nothing but the queen of a shallow orbit, despaired at the thought of mortals never witnessing her presence.

One day, while traveling in his usual circuit to warmthe earth, the Sun God appeared, crossing paths with the pitiful Moon. Seeing her in distress, he asks her delicately…

“Pretty Moon, why do you cry?”

Tilting her chin up, she bestows a wet, wide-eyed stare, and tells him. “I am invisible…I have no light. I lay amongst the twinkling of stars who shine brightly without effort, and witness tales created in their honor…I cannot make light of my own, therefore man will never witness my glory.”

The Sun God looks down at the dreadful Goddess, sympathizing with her. To provide comfort, he gives her a solution, by telling her to use his own light to generate her own. He shines brightly and warms her gray kingdom. “Shine bright, my beauty. For you will no longer be ignored by anyone. Let me warm you with my rays, and may you glow brighter than anything in the universe.”

Just as the Sun God promised through his aid, the Moon Goddess shined brightly. She glowed brighter than any star in the sky, and was called the “Sun of the night”.

As the hours of the day rotate, the Moon stationed herself in the middle of the darkened sky, only to find that she went back to being an invisible silhouette again. Seeking his help, she pleads to the merciful Sun; his response gave her gratification once more.

“Pretty Moon, don’t you worry. I will always make you shine and glow. Everyone in the world will know of your beauty. They will use your presence as a guide in the darkness…all you need to do is to commit yourself to me. Never leave my side and use my light to make ‘our’ light. Be a part of me forever…”

The Moon, not withstanding the thought of being invisible any longer, did as the Sun bids her…and each night, she shone brightly than the last.

But as time went by, she soon learned, that no matter how glorious she appeared, everyone could see that she was only as beautiful as the Sun would allow her to be. Mortals spoke and philosophically determined her reliance to the Sun, configuring that her existence could only be due to him.

Shamed at the thought of losing her independence as the Queen of the night, and becoming a slave to the Sun God.

Refusing to end the long line of matriarchal reign, the Moon tries to distance herself from the Sun’s grasp, yearning to gain the freedom she once had…but it was too late.

“Pretty Moon you can’t escape. Don’t you see? Without me, you cannot brighten the dark sky…leaving me means to leave the entire world in darkness. Stay with me and never leave again, and I will ensure that you shine brighter than ever.”

For centuries, the Moon rested in the shackles of the suns rays, finding it impossible to leave. Craving his light, she feeds off his hand and thus lived off of him. The Moon accepted her fate; without him, she would cease to exist…

Without him…she cannot produce light….

Without her Sun…she is nothing. And so, by his side she stays…forever holding back tears of regret. With a permanent smile edged on her surface, mortals are fooled by her perfected glow. Just as she had wanted, tales of her glory did emerge, yet always paired with her husband, the Sun.

“I am forever stuck here. I can never leave…I can never go back home….the Sun has his grasp on me and I won’t ever be the same again…for centuries I have been stationed this side….even during the day. They see my hallow form in daylight, not realizing that I am left with no choice…I am left with no say….for thousands of years he has kept me…and for thousands more, he will.”

Oh, to be the Diamond in the Sky….what an eternal price to pay…’

………………

This week had been the worst…followed by the last, and even the one before that. Was it just a twist of fate? Or perhaps it was something in the atmosphere. There was no way in telling, all you could figure was that each time you tried to make up with him, he pushed you further over the edge.

It has been over a year since you and Heeseung started dating. Despite the atrocities that occurred, such as the one with Samuel, or Tiff and Scott, you both lived blissfully in each other’s presence…just you and Heeseung.

It didn’t take long for people to see the rather unusual circumstance of your relationship with him. Just days after you became his, it became well known that you were strictly off limits…and by strictly, you mean that had anyone so much as looked your way, they would meet a very unpleasant meeting. Sometimes, though you have yet to substantiate it yourself, but you were quite certain by the disappearance of some who took interest, that they may even have met with death at his hand.

Of course with his family connections and the corruption they stirred in the city, any case that raised eyebrows always came to an unsolved end without any leads. The last time you inquired about a certain classmate, who miraculously disappeared after he approached and handed you a note that read…

‘I won’t tell if you don’t. ;)’

Of course, had he had enough brains to hand you the note aside and not in front of Heeseung’s car, he might have still been around. Had he any brains at all, he would have refrained from even seeking any prospective relation with you since you were claimed by “Ethan the Heathen”, or so they called him by.

You knew his level of love for you extended past what was considered normal, and sane. But it didn’t mean that innocent people should get hurt, all because of you. You figured that since he placed you above all, even himself, it may have earned you leeway in talking to him, perhaps even bringing the toxicity down a bit. But just as you inquired about the missing male, he accused you of loving him less. He further provoked you by claiming that your inquiry of another man’s whereabouts was unwarranted and that the only one you should ever think about, was him.

How could he ever speak to you in such a manner?

Perhaps you were at fault…since the very beginning, you knew of his crazed obsession with you. Not only were you aware…you liked it.

Many people would think you’re crazy if they ever heard you say it aloud, and rightfully so. Unlike those around you, they will never know this feeling of belonging to one person, who out of their own selfish love for you, suppresses you in isolation. Detaching you from the world, and safekeeping you for their own pleasure, they beat and pass deathly judgement onto those who touch you, those who try and hurt you. It was a sinful feeling of danger and adventure, and despite wanting him to do things right and in a rational sense, you’d be lying if you told others that his malicious insanity didn’t make you feel most loved.

But you knew it was wrong…and you couldn’t live the rest of your life being a death trap for others.

You denied that he had done anything extensive, but at the accidental discovery of bloodied clothes, kerosene, shovels, and potential weapons, all tucked away in a false wall within the closet, you developed the worst of fears.

……

“I just think that…maybe you could relax a little bit. I am always going to be here with you.” You initiate the conversation…again. Much to his annoyance. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too crazy? Plus, it would be nice if I could leave the room and go to the store or cafe by myself from time to time. I wouldn’t mind being treated like a human being, and not so much as a dog kept in a cage.”

You knew you were crossing the line, and surely you expected for him to give out one of usual punishments of locking you away for hours, chained or tied to one of the heavy upholsteries inside the room, sometimes nude or barely dressed in undergarments. Then of course, when he was really angered by your abhorrence, he took it up a step further from lessons learned through solitary confinement, and subjected you to derogatory acts that resulted in him demeaning you, physically and mentally, and breaking your spirit.

Strange…how one man could make you feel the most love, and yet at the same time, make you feel most ignored and even hated.

“Whenever you’re good, why can’t you just stay that way?” He’d snap out, hissing his tongue as he corners you, pressing your frame into a cowering stance as you kneel before him. “Why can’t you just fucking see how much I love you…it should be obvious by now.”

You argued back that there was no doubt that his love for you was present, and that you appreciated his gestures and the strength of his desire for you…it’s just…

“It’s just—I just want us to be a normal couple. Sometimes you really scare me, and I don’t know how to live with you when you display that side of you…that side that almost seems murderous.”

Instantly you regretted being so upfront. The moment he took your wrist, you regretted it even more.

“I’m so done fighting, get over here!” He spits out as he drags you away. Immediately, you realize he intended on chaining you up again, locking you away while he would ignore and leave you for God knows how long. It always drove you crazy with how lonely you’d become. He’d take away your phone, silence your screams through whatever gag-suppressing method he intended to use, and would even drug you to sleep by forcing a sleeping pill, or two, or sometimes opted for a natural sedative such as melatonin infused tea. It all depended how angry you got him, and right now, he was up there.

“No—stop! No more!” You yell out. It’s too bad you decided to pick today to argue, as his sorority brothers all left for the weekend. In fact, almost everyone on campus did, except you. He wouldn’t let you leave, and since his own schedule didn’t permit him to take you, he kept you back with him. “I want to go home! I hate you!”

You screamed as loudly as you could, not caring if your words hurt or angered him. “One more fucking word and I swear to God, y/n!”

He throws you on the bed, kneeling as he meandered a strategic grip on your arm, attempting to tie you to the bed frame. He’d do so by tightening the ropes to be just taunting enough so that your hands could not meet, and another attached to a belted choker would be latched onto your neck.

He successfully gets one wrist coiled in, and straddles over you to do the next. “You hate me? Then fucking stay here and rot for all I care.”

Your eyes began to tear up as you watch him reach for the other rope. “Don’t worry, I’ll still love you—I can love you even from afar.” He laconically spits out as he attempts to grab hold of your free hand. Desperate to avoid being alone and tied mercilessly, you reach around his neck and pull him in.

“Don’t! Stop! Please don’t do this!”

He ignores your pleads as he attempts to raise his frame, but your hold on his neck brings you up with him. He reaches up and tries to peel your arm off, and nearly succeeded effortlessly had it not been you regaining a grip on his jacket collar.

“Don’t do this…don’t leave me, I need you.” Your voice calls as you feel yourself on the verge of breaking down. Yes, you took on a tone of defeat, but if it meant that you weren’t facing lonely-induced depression, then you were willing to do anything. The sudden realization that you wanted him near you, to pay attention to you and to hold you was stronger now. “Please, don’t do this…I can’t be without you.” You cry into his neck as you held a python grip, embracing him as hard as you could.

He kept fighting with you, trying to break free from the single-arm embrace you had, but the softness of your voice and the pleading desire of needing him was starting to get to him. After all, he still loved you…and all he wanted, was for you to love him the way he understands it. It is brutal, irrational, non-sensible, and sadistic, but it was true love.

You cried into his throat and rubbed the tips of your fingers on the back of his nape. Feeling his tense body softened, you gained hope that he would be kind again. You truly were sorry…in the breach of his harsh punishment, you were left with no choice but to feel remorse. Through the guilt of spitting such terrible words, you realized more than ever that you couldn’t survive without him. What would have happened had he not been there to stop Samuel? What about Scott, and Tiff?

“Please…” you sobbed. Feeling his body growing dense against you, it encouraged for you to initiate the movements of passion as you waved your hips up and down, grinding against his groin. Nearly instantaneously, his cock hardens above and yearned to break free from the cloth.

“Please…Heeseung. I’m sorry…Im just scared…scared and nervous.”

You weren’t lying, you truly were scared, but the claim of being nervous wasn’t entirely so. You just knew him so well that had you said the right things, you could turn his mood around in a flick of an instant. Quicker than two fingers snapping. “I just don’t want anyone to break us apart…I’m scared of losing you.”

He raises his head, and you loosened your embrace as you felt him creating distance, not out of spite, but to relay sweet words. “You don’t have anything to be afraid of…not even me…” he gently takes your hand, while reaching for the rope. Damn he was so stubborn. Was he really intending on still tying you up? You committed another desperate move as you quickly raise your face to meet his, and there you kiss him. Initially, he wouldn’t let you in, but feeling your breath coating his lips, and the more your hips grinds against him, he falters. Finally…he kisses you.

“What do I have to do to prove to you that I’m sorry? Isn’t there anything I could do than to be locked away?” You breathed against his mouth once more, speaking softly as your tongue gently massages his. “Don’t you want me to be close to you anyhow? Wouldn’t you rather be locked away with me? Just the two of us…away from it all? Heeseung?”

Your hips begin to gyrate as that familiar tingle blisters beneath your pelvic muscles. You pick up the pace just a little more, and wrap a leg around his hips. “Heeseung…please…please touch me.”

You begged. He was staying strong in trying to refuse your advances, but seeing how much you yearned for him…it’s all he’s ever wanted and loved on this earth. Staying silent and stoic, he tries and stays strong, but your tenacity is breaking him piece by piece. God…why did you have to put on your bedroom voice…why did you have to move into him the way you were right now…why did you have to kiss him and tell him that you needed him.

“Heeseung please…please touch me. Fuck me…do everything to me.” You moaned out the last bit and that did it for him. Despite being angry with you, he could never resist your obedient nature.

He squares his face with yours, gripping onto your neck, a little more tighter than usual. “Tell me you need me.” His voice was dark and heavy, a bit husky as he clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth. He as still angry.

“I need you.” You whined, licking his throat with the very tip of your tongue, barely making contact. Had his grip on your throat not pinned you down to the pillow, you would have completely swallowed in skin, lacing his Adams apple with your saliva.

“Tell me you love me—“ his grip snaps tightly, knotting your airway. You slightly gasp as he jerks his grip and squeezes. You choked out the words as you looked pitifully in his eyes. “I-I….l-l-love….you-!”

You coughed up the air flowing back into your lungs as he releases his grip. He comes to a kneeling stance and releases the other rope, but does not untie the one already latched to you. He removes his cap and flings it to the floor, followed by stretching his abdominal muscles while he reaches overhead and peels his shirt off. Your free hand latches onto his belt, attempting to loosen it, only for his hands to slap it away. “No—I’m still pissed off at you.” He hisses as he undoes the buckle and zipper of his trousers. Pulling them a quarter way down, along with his briefs, he slides his pants down just enough for his lengthy cock to poke out freely, testicles included.

He leans back in, hovering on her as he extends an arm and props it next to your head, while the other lines his tip directly at your entrance. You could tell that by his nature, he wasn’t going to be as cementing as he would have been, and this been a punishable act, but not entirely loving. It was going to be a little of both.

“Fuck you…y/n.” Was all he said before leaning his head down and aggressively kissing you. Ramming himself in, he thrusts his cock inside, forcing it past un-prepped tissue and muscle as you felt yourself tearing. You help into his mouth, screaming eternally as he swallows it all. He wouldn’t let your mouth break free, in fact each time you moved your head away, his mouth remained latched on and his face trailed your every movement. You felt the flaring of his nostrils as he chalked harshly against your skin while thrusting deeper and deeper. Once he hit bottom, he strung it out rather fast, before rampaging into you at inhuman speed and momentum. You could feel it…the slight bit of blood and skin ripping apart until finally your body responds, producing a hint of moisture, which allowed him to slide in easily. The subtle curve of his length formed a C-shape, allowing the tip to easily find the soft button deep inside. Each time he thrusted in, his tip poked it, causing it to leak your orgasm little by little.

Squelching, squeezing, and slipping in and out, his movements became faster and more pungent as you kept leaking. From blood and pain comes perfection, and that’s where you were at right now.

“Ah! Ffffffuck! Oh my God—!” You gasp out, screaming and moaning as he kept fucking into you. You spew out your moans into his mouth as he restricted your breathing, by permanently enveloping your lips into a kiss that felt eternal.

Deeper and deeper, he digs in. Grunting and growling against your tongue. He adjust his position by extending both arms, propping his chest up to grant just a bit of space between you two. You gasp and moan, mouth wide open and tongue sticking out as he continued to fuck you senseless and numb. Sticking out his own tongue, he licks the flat surface of your own before swallowing your mouth into another prolonged kiss.

“Please—!!! Oh fuck! Heeseung!!” Your desperate cries only provoked him to keep going, to the point where the stimulation stayed past its welcome, and it became blisteringly painful.

“Sssstop! N-no—no more!” You begged, yearning for mercy. How much longer could this man go? How could he always have so much stamina and vigor in his body?

“Come on y/n…keep screaming…make me fucking cum!” He grunts as he swallows a kiss one final time, before plunging deep inside and filling you. So much, you felt the secretion of his fluids rimming out as his cock pulsed, his balls kissing your soft taint.

Your chest heaves, and you gasp for air as your free hair slaps onto his bicep. Your restrained wrist develops rope burn from all the friction of movement. Suddenly you felt the soft touch of his fingers, gently pinching your chin as he forced you to face him. A small glare from your eye greets the gaze of none other than—

“E..Ethan?”

He smirks maliciously. His usual psychotic stare reeks of a sinister intention as he bites down his lip, chuckling as he slurps in the excess saliva. “Miss me?”

You didn’t have the chance to put the moves on him as you did with his softer side…though you could hardly deem him soft to begin with. But compared to Ethan, anything was soft, even hard steel.

“Oh no wait—you could have missed me because….what was it that you said earlier?” He taps his fingertips along the center of your chest, spider crawling them upwards until he establishes a grip around your neck. “You hate me…RIIIIIIGHT? BABYDOLL?”

Your eyes are widen in fear as you attempt to scream but his offensive lips re-engages you to a lengthy kiss…own that contained the loudest of all your screams.

“Please! Stop! I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean it! You know I don’t hate you, Ethan—“

His dark giggle halts your pleads. “I know…and don’t worry—“ licking a teardrop from your cheek, he whispers into your ear. “By the end of this, you just might hate me. But never to fear…I’m always going to love you…and that’s all that matters right now.”

He lines himself, centered to your soft flesh. “Got a surprise for you after this…”

“W-what….what are you—?”

“Shhh….you’ll see…”

……..

“Y/n! When did you get this?” H/n takes on an exciting tone as she notices the small mark located behind your ear. You tied your hair into a high piney tail, allowing the subtle tattoo to gain some air to help the healing process. “Over the weekend…” you softly spoke. An emotionless expression graces your face as you stare at the blackboard ahead, eyes tracing the white chalked equation your professor drafted. The beating pain from between your thighs sets a reminder of words you could never use against him…ever again.

As per usual, he waits by the curb, already standing outside his car as you walk outside. A part of you happy to see him, while the other half resented him for the pleasure he bestowed you…with pain.

“Hi pretty baby, how was class?”

He cups both sides of your neck, placing a kiss on your forehead. He tilts his head to the side, admiring his mark on you. “It’s healing well. Good.” He smirks against your forehead.

You embrace him in return. You love him…and you can’t live without him. Though you’re not sure if that was by your own willingness or if he has broken you down so many times, rebuilding and training you to rely on him…just him.

You look up and admire the dark look in his eye. Yeah…you do love him.

Reaching up, you delicately tuck some of his shaggy hair away from his cheek, the rest remained pinched against his forehead from the baseball cap adorning his head. In plain sight behind his ear, was the sun. It healed completely.

“My pretty moon loves her sun?” He asked you’d you, gripping your neck subtly as he leans into kiss your lips. “Hmm…yes….”

I must always have…the sun.

[strgrlxox]

✧.➷ & burn.

☆ || SUMMARY :: ellie taking her frustration out on u

☆ || CONTAINS :: mean dom!ellie. reader gets called a slut like once. oral (r!reciving). fingering (r!reciving). edging.

☆ || WORD COUNT :: 783 !

there was a certain point within your girl's anger where all she wanted was a source of distraction, something new to focus on. you, always her angel, were there to greedily gladly provide aid.

“stop fucking squirming.” her teeth were skating across your clit, hands gripping so tightly on your waist there was no way it wouldn’t leave a mark. 

you fucking loved it when she got like this. 

she knew your body so well, always able to put you at her mercy with a few words or light touches. she was always so good to you when you needed her…you were glad to do the same for her.

ellie laid you done as soon as she got home, telling you something along the lines of  “stop fucking talking.” before she kissed you like she wanted to take all the air that was in your lungs.

she’d make it up to you later. probably put herself on her knees to worship you like you deserved.

but for now, she needed this to be the opposite of that. ellie wasn’t focused on making you feel good like she normally did, she was trying to relieve herself from the pressure of the intense day she had.

you can’t help but thrash in her hold, your body unable to relax when she begins to gently bite down. “what the fuck did i just tell you?” she growled, her eyes meeting yours. you couldn’t stop the sewage of apologies that left your mouth.

she smirked into your skin, detaching her mouth from your core for the third time. the distressed cry you let out was so pretty it almost made her feel bad. almost.

 ellie smirked as she let her eyes trail across your body that was coated in dark purple marks that she’d kiss later when she apologized for being so rough with you. you’d dismiss her, how you loved being her little work of art. 

“please, just wanna come.” your words are barely tangible.

she gripped your jaw and you mewl, not from pain but more so from shock. even when she’s fucking pissed and can only think about how small she wants to make you feel, she’d never actually hurt you. ellie could never even dream of it. “you’ll come if and only if i decide you will. you take what i give you.”

your back arches when she lets two fingers slip past your entrance. 

“what am i gonna do with you?” her voice was so lustful it almost made your mouth water. “you like it when i treat you like a little slut, don’t you?”

you do, you really fucking do. you nod, biting your lip as you fight the urge to buck your hips into her fingers, desperate to feel her deeper. fuck her and her perfect fucking fingers.

“say it.”

“yeah, i like it.” your eyes bubble with tears cause she’s been edging you for an hour…bringing you to the edge only to pull away before you coming.

“hmm.” she kisses your cheek, the sweet gesture making your head spin in contrast to how mean she was being seconds ago. “so pretty when you cry.”

it was embarrassing how much her humiliation turns you on. her words, her mocking tone, the fact that you were naked while she was completely clothed. she looked up at you so casually, like what she was doing wasn’t so goddamn filthy.

you clench when her fingers curl, you’re so fucking close. you’d probably be embarrassed if you weren’t so fucking pent up. 

then she pulls her fingers out of you. you keep your legs closed.

“open your legs.” it’s gruff and demanding, you know better than to tease her but knowing why she’s doing this makes it impossible not too.

“ask me nicely.” you keep your knees buckled together, smiling up at her like you knew all her secrets or something.

“open your fucking legs.” her hands reach up to your knees and yank them apart. you gasp when the cold air hits your pussy, wondering why you flirt with dominance when you know you’ll give into submission everytime.

“‘m sorry, just can’t take anymore.” you pout up at her.

“who the fuck do think you are?” she scoffs and you almost flinch at how harsh her tone is. “you don’t like what i give you?”

“no, no, ‘m sorry. i love it, ‘m sorry.” you rush, apologies flowing from your lips like it was the only language you could speak. she hums like she’s in thought but you can look in her eyes and tell her mind is made up.

her mouth levels with your core again, “so lie there and take it.”

[catfern]

LOVER

pairing: abby anderson x reader

music: rose blood - mazzy star

word count: 409

warnings: oral (r!giving), fingering, sub-ish!abby, desperate!abby

an: a short lil piece inspired by mullet!abby bc she deserves love and rest. also just wanted to let u guys know im not dead. still busy but i'll be slowly writing and answering asks and being more active in the next few days :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

her grip was totalitarian.

anchoring you in her, the pressing of her nails into the back of your neck the only thing that held you through the fog. she was everywhere.

a sorry sight. lipstick kisses pressed into her inner thighs, a gilded path smeared with her own slick. your moans a toxic buzz in her bloodstream, nose bumping against her throbbing clit like a cruel joke, she hisses, free hand running through the harshness of her hair, knowingly pushing herself under, drowning in what you’re giving her. ‘fuck, sweetness.’ 

you’re so good. gripping at her calves, resting on your knees, giving yourself to her like she wanted.

your tongue was godsent inside her, driving her writhing head into the pillow as she eased you along with her own hands, holding you down and knotting your hair with her touch.  she couldn’t keep up with you, overflowing in the electricity you ignited in her core.

‘come on, baby. that’s it.’

abby was never one to surrender control, to give herself up in such a way. but fuck. her very soul was entangled at your feet, around your fingers, your tongue, your feeling. she was at your mercy, fallen like an angel from grace. please, please, please. etchings of words you rarely hear, easing out of her like prayer.

you could see her biceps tensing in the corner of your eye, how her arms flew out into the mess of sheets, unsure and desperate, as they reach for you, and you pull away.

you tease.

she all but whines, collapsing in on herself as she falls back from the edge, looking for you through glazed eyes and trembling hands.

‘come on. come back to me, honey, please. please.’

so unlike herself. abby no longer recognises the voice in the room, the pleading mewl leaving her lips. she should writhe against this feeling of helplessness, of surrender, but she feels your heat above her, your voice like soft star light, if she even knew it,

‘kiss me.’

and you taste like her. a familiarity, like sweet syrup, lip gloss and salt. her hands find your neck in possessive rush, her thumb tracing along the bone, burying her fingers deep in the knots of your hair. closer.

‘please, honey, fuck. i need you.’ it’s barely a mumble, a soft plea against your lips. her words quiet, her grip softening, you can feel abby’s body melt against yours, her hands wandering, you almost take pity. 

poor abby.

[mysebacielblog]

In Depth Analysis: Sebastian and Elizabeth

I love the relationship that Lizzy and Sebastian have. If you know the fact that Sebastian is the Main Character of Black Butler (it’s in the title) and subscribe to the romance/intimacy that he and Ciel share, then this would make Lizzy one of the Biggest Antagonists of all of Black Butler. On the level of antagonism to the Undertaker, perhaps even more! Which is funny because, just, just LOOK AT HER. She’s just this preteen girl!! Who the heck would consider her an antagonist?!

These two have gone up against literal immortal forces that pose a great threat to them physically. The only person who holds this kind of sway is the real Ciel. However. I would consider him to be more of an antagonist to both Ciel and Sebastian, whereas Lizzy is an antagonist and a threat to Sebastian alone. And while Ciel’s Brother (R!ciel) reminds Ciel of his past, Lizzy reminds Ciel of his Future that he will never have. Although she is a bit of a nuisance and a hindrance to Ciel and his plans, Lizzy isn’t a full fledged antagonist for him.

She’s even a sweetheart to everyone, even Sebastian, despite how weird the entire Phantomhive estate is. Their cordial passive aggressiveness and pleasantness between them compared to more direct characters (such as Aunt Francis) is fascinating to watch.

But she has him absolutely TREMBLING in his leather boots, because not only is she the Main Antagonist, but no, a Love Antagonist Even. Because even though our Ciel still keeps her at an arms length and treats her more like family than a proper fiancé, he still cares tremendously about her and her emotions. She represents a life where our Ciel Lives, grows up, has a future, and doesn’t pursue his Revenge. Which is the biggest threat to their contract entirely. As a narrative foil, she’s sweet, loud and angelic, and based on the original story, could be the very salvation that could Save Ciel’s soul.

And the best part of it is she is also really, really good at fighting and can go toe to toe with Sebastian in a fight- and he Can’t even lay a finger on her!

The envy these two have for each other is palpable- each wants what the other has of Ciel’s Time and Affections. It’s the difference between wanting a Public Relationship for Appearances and desiring a private relationship for sharing one’s secrets.

I think the most interesting aspect of their relationship is that even though they’re rivals, Sebastian Lets Lizzy GO, going completely against Ciel’s Wishes, knowing that was “impossible to shackle one’s heart”. Was this some small mercy of growth or sympathy, distance the two from interacting, or simply a way to move the agenda forward?

The only character that would consider her an antagonist of any type would be a demon.

[pinguwrites]

Whenever you feel like it (if you want to write this one), soft!dark!Tom Buckley and housewife kink…this request was inspired by the part where Tom said “I have nothing against housewives…my mom happens to be one!” Sksksksksksskksksks

🤭 ��� I love this so much

Drabble: Tom can’t help but breed you

Pairing -> tom buckley x housewife!reader

Warnings: DUB-CON, implied Tom is making good money which I don’t think is true in the movie lol, overstimulation, dark!soft!tom, reader’s a housewife, she’s lowkey isolated, possesive!tom, breeding kink

Disclaimer: Red Lights characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun. + gif is from wifflegif.com.

Tom Buckley liked to think that he was the perfect husband. He was, wasn’t he? He worked a job at the university, bringing home money for you to use and spend as you wished. He took care of you and protected you, to the point where you weren’t allowed to go out of the house unless you had his permission, and he always pleased you as best he could, making love to you until you were begging and pleading him for his mercy.

In return, he asked for nothing but your affection. For you kiss him all over his face, to cuddle up next to him on the couch, to cook him dinner and clean the house. Nothing but that—except until now.

He knew he wanted to have kids with you from the moment you two started dating. It was something you both agreed on before getting married, but you weren’t in a rush to get started, and while all Tom wanted to do was bend you over on his bed and breed your pussy, he wanted to make sure you were ready.

When he came back home from work earlier today, ready to greet his beautiful wife and fall asleep in your arms, he saw you taking care of the neighbor’s kids while their parents were out, and was immediately sent into a primal frenzy.

He didn’t care if you wanted to wait longer. He had to get you pregnant. You were so perfect with children, all motherly-like and angelic — this proved it, it was your calling.

“You know, I can’t wait to be a dad,” he had murmured against your neck after you dropped the kids off, leaving kisses on your collarbone. “I can’t wait anymore.”

You were surprised at his words, but liked them nonetheless. You had giggled, enjoying your husband’s touch, when he suddenly pushed you into his room and shoved you onto your bed.

After getting you warmed up, he pulled out his cock and plunged it into your hole, not relenting for a moment even as you asked him to slow down.

His kisses were rough and forceful, his tongue slipping inside your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you both as he hit inside of you, ready to come again, and again, and again, no matter how overstimulated he got, no matter how tired he felt.

“You can take it,” Tom said in your ear when you tried to push him away. “You can take my cock. I know it’s big, but all you have to do is lie there, okay? We’re not — augh — we’re not stopping until I’m satisfied you’ve been filled.”

“I have been!” you cried out, but Tom chose to ignore his cum leaking out of you. “I’m pregnant! I’m pregnant!”

He chuckled at your weak protests. “I have to make sure,” he groaned, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Don’t pretend like you don’t need this.”

He could feel himself getting exhausted. After the third orgasm, his legs began to shake and his thrusts became more sloppy and slow. You still kept squirming, but he could see your eyes start to glaze over, your mind going dumb.

“My sweet wife,” he praised softly, coming inside of you again with a shudder. He held your hips in place, making sure he was as deep inside of you as he could, pressing up against that swollen spot inside of you, until about a minute passed and he pulled out, his panting almost covering the sound of squelching.

He collapsed beside you on the bed, taking a few moments to recover his breath. The blanket had fallen to the ground, but he wasn’t in a rush to pick it up.

Once he regained his clarity he turned to you and placed a hand on your belly, caressing it gently, before leaning over and planting kisses all over it.

“I’ll be perfect,” he promised. “The perfect father. I’ll take care of you and our baby. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@shroombloom-rry

@meetmeatyourworst

@mrkdvidal1989

[augustinajosefina]

A request

Please suggest books to me! Preferably in the glove kink/lesbian space atrocities, urban fantasy or dark academia genres but I'll happily try any SF/fantasy at least once.

So far I've read and loved:

Before 2023

The Imperial Radch (Ancillary Justice/Sword/Mercy) - Ann Leckie

Jean le Flambeur (The Quantum Thief/The Fractal Prince/The Causal Angel) - Hannu Rajaniemi

The Windup Girl/The Water Knife - Paolo Bagicalupi

Memory of Water/The City of Woven Streets - Emmi Itäranta

2023

The Locked Tomb (Gideon/Harrow/Nona the Ninth) - Tamsyn Muir

The Masquerade (Traitor/Monster/Tyrant Baru Cormorant) - Seth Dickinson

Teixcalaan series (A Memory Called Empire/A Desolation Called Peace) - Arkady Martine

Machineries of Empire (Ninefox Gambit/Raven Stratagem/Revenant Gun/Hexarchate Stories) - Yoon Ha Lee

The Murderbot Diaries (All Systems Red to System Collapse) - Martha Wells

The Broken Earth (The Fifth Season/The Obelisk Gate/The Stone Sky) - N. K. Jemisin

Klara And The Sun - Kazuo Ishiguro

Xuya universe (The Citadel of Weeping Pearls/The Tea Master and the Detective/Seven of Infinities plus short stories) - Aliette de Bodard

This is How You Lose the Time War - Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

The Goblin Emperor/The Witness for the Dead/Grief of Stones - Katherine Addison

Some Desperate Glory - Emily Tesh

2024

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue - V. E. Schwab

The Craft Sequence (Three Parts Dead/Two Serpents Rise/Full Fathom Five/Last First Snow/Four Roads Cross/Ruin of Angels) - Max Gladstone

Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution - R. F. Kuang

Dead Country - Max Gladstone

Hands of the Emperor - Victoria Goddard

Read and liked:

The Moonday Letters - Emmi Itäranta

Piranesi - Susanna Clarke

Great Cities (The City We Became/The World We Make) - N. K. Jemisin

Autonomous - Annalee Newitz

Dead Djinn universe (A Master of Djinn/The Haunting of Tram Car 015/A Dead Djinn in Cairo/The Angel of Khan el-Khalili) - P. Djèlí Clark

Even Though I Knew the End - C. L. Polk

Station Eternity - Mur Lafferty

The Mythic Dream - Dominik Parisien & Navah Wolfe

Shades of Magic (A Darker Shade of Magic/A Gathering of Shadows/A Conjuring of Light/Fragile Threads of Power) - V. E. Schwab

The Luminous Dead - Caitlin Starling

Last Exit - Max Gladstone

The Stars Are Legion - Kameron Hurley

Ninth House/Hell Bent - Leigh Bardugo

Machine - Elizabeth Bear

Our Wives Under the Sea - Julia Armfield

She Is A Haunting - Trang Thanh Tran

Sisters of the Revolution - Jeff & Ann Vandermeer

Station Eleven - Emily St John Mandel

Nettle & Bone - T. Kingfisher

Monstrilio - Gerardo Samano Córdova

Was uncertain about:

Light From Uncommon Stars - Ryka Aoki

The Kaiju Preservation Society - John Scalzi

Paladin's Grace - T. Kingfisher

The House in the Cerulean Sea - TJ Klune

In the Vanishers Palace - Aliette de Bodard

Uprooted - Naomi Novik

What Moves The Dead - T. Kingfisher

All The Birds In The Sky - Charlie Jane Anders

And read and disliked:

To Be Taught, if Fortunate - Becky Chambers

A Psalm for the Wild-Built - Becky Chambers

The Priory of the Orange Tree - Samantha Shannon

The Calculating Stars - Mary Robinette Kowal

The Space Between Worlds - Micaiah Johnson

How High We Go in the Dark - Sequoia Nagamatsu

Shadow and Bone - Leigh Bardugo

The Passage - Justin Cronin

In Ascension - Martin MacInnes

(My pride insists I add that I have, in fact, read other books as well. Just to be clear.)

[gomacave]

I have some questions for you about advent children which are

1-What do you think of Loz, Yazoo and Kadaj?

and

2- How gay is it, what do you think about sfkr in that film?

YESSS OKKKK this is gonna get sooo fucking long buckle up

I FUCKING LOVEEEEE THEMMMMMMMM THEYRE SOOO 🫶🫶🫶im like omg the sillies...! one second and then the next second im like.

LITERALLY. KADAJ MAKES ME SO FUCKING. SAD. doomed from the beginning. pulls all my hair out and vomits. seph was propped up as a false messiah and kadaj was propped up as seph its like. both of them are denied legacies and identities because of how trapped they are by the circumstances of their birth. like their births determine the trajectory of their lives AND ITS ESP TRAGIC CUZ THE TRIO R LITERALLY LIKE THREE DAYS OLDDDD.... seph was a grown ass adult and could have chosen to resist at any time but kadaj is a three year old teenager. kills msyelf. what do you fucking do hes the smudged charcoal on the other side of a drawing thats already an imitation of something from life. NOT TO FUCKING MENTION BRO NOT TO MENTION. THE WAY HE DIED. CLOUD HOLDING HIM UP PIETA STYLE WHAT IF I KILLED MYSELFFF GRRAHHH. offered mercy by ur executioner after being used as a vessel for a battle much larger than you that swallowed you up. the biblical allegory goes crazy bc the same way jesus was born to die i believe kadaj was born to die. the narrative requires him to die for cloud to have his rematch and to become a vessel for cloud's metaphorical demons (sephiroth)

i also rly like the idea that kadaj is more human/childlike than seph and post ac au when seph returns she returns with memories of having been kadaj. with all the insecurity and teenagedness and rawness of being removed from a godly existence. (in a similar way to where some ppl believe jesus/god in christian belief incarnated as a human to know what it was like) And also with the memory of being held by cloud in that way 🤠👍

Also @dykesferatu has a big brain beautiful interpretation where kadaj contains elements of cloud (the insecurity, desire for (motherly) validation, desire to prove himself etc) and is proof that seph contains elements of cloud the same way cloud contains elements of seph (s cells and stuff) I LOVE IT A LOT... THEYRE MIXED UP..... They're forever leaving scars and parts of themselves inside each other... Guh....

Loz and yazoo r so cute and cunty also.... I wish we had more of them :oT id ego and superego if they slayed....

2) ok time to go crazymode. ITS GAY!!!! ITS GAY!!!! ITS GAY!!!!!! ITS GAY AS FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My godddd. The geostigma thing is so fuckinh gay acting like its a hickeyyy 😭😭😭😭😭 "you got rid of it 😈?" GIRL. ITS A DISEASE NOT A HICKEYYYY THEYRE SO WEIRDDDDD sephs obsession w leaving her mark on cloud is insane (she is the mark) also casually confessing that she wanted to sail the universe with a barren earth w cloud specifically is so 🤮🤮🤮 GAY SEX WOULD BE LESS GAY. God. The way she sounds turned on by cloud getting stronger 😨😨😨 like howd u get so strong <333 and clouds like stfu none of ur biz LIKE HELLO??????

God also ac idea that seph can only come back through cloud is so. 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 Guhhhhhhh... GUGHGGGHHH... LIKE WHEN SHE STARTED GOING OFF AB THE GEOSTIGMA I WAS LIKE BITCH STFUUUU WE ALL KNOW WHY UR GAY ASS IS BACK. Thematically ac works well for me too. Not in a way where i think it directly is connected to the og game but its a good addition. I believe that seph will always come back (in some form) because shes a metaphorical wound on cloud. And wounds may heal but they still generally scar and ache and never really go away fully. So cloud has to learn to live with her. So im a sephiroth always comes back truther. Until they reach a truce or equilibrium of some sort. (Preferably this equilibrium involves them kissing) I love divorced vibes they give off too where this godlike angel of death comes back bringing destruction and this guy's like "🙄🙄🙄 ughhh fucking you again. GO AWAY" DIVORCEDDDDDD!!!!!

[pink-valkyrie-writes]

Hiiii can I request mercy x Fem reader that is refusing to get treated from mercy even though she is really sick and falling around? Maybe she's scared or smth, thank youuuu

I'm back from the dead LMAOO but I missed you guys! A break helped me clear up my head a bit :) but I'm here to deliver a fic for my fav girl <3

"Rest Now, Liebe"

You couldn't tell if it was just Monday blues or the fact it was 04:30 in the morning but...you felt like shit. Looking over you saw your sleeping angel next to you. As much as you didn't want to wake her up, it was time for work. Your throat was feeling sore already...but you'll be fine, you can walk it off.

Though you and Angela work in two different areas of the overwatch base, she still makes her rounds around to make sure you're alright. Her lunchbreak was her favorite since she got to spend an hour with you.

Angela did notice your sluggish movements you were getting ready this morning. Yes, you both get up early, but this has been your morning routine for the 2 years you've been together. You stopped having trouble waking up early after staying with her for the first few months. As your girlfriend she was worried about you, but as your doctor, she could tell you weren't feeling good.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As soon her wall clock hit 12:00, she got up and went to the mini fridge and grabbed the salad she packed herself the morning. She went to her door sign and flipped it so it would read "The doctor is out! Please come check again in an hour!". She looked at the sign and smiled, you had actually gotten her it as a small part of her birthday gift a while ago.

She went to your usual meet up spot which is a little bench outside by the training rooms, the place where she first met you. Angela saw you already sitting there, slouching a bit. She always scolds you on your posture, sometimes she'll poke fun and say you're her "little shrimp" from how you're sitting. When she got closer, you looked at her with a tired smile, "Hey babe, how is work so far?" you asked, voice sounding nasally.

"I'm fine meine liebe, but are you? You sound sick...Are you feeling okay?" She asked, placing the back of her hand on your forehead. You were definitely burning up. "Oh honey...Let's go to my office, yes? You need to rest," she stated, and you shook your head, "I'm okay! You don't have to worry about me baby," you said, taking her hand off your head and giving her knuckles a kiss. It's a cute gesture to Angela, but Dr.Ziegler hated germs and sickness.

"Well...If you're so fine, then let's walk back to my office and I'll give you a checkup just to make sure you're okay," she said, taking you by the hand and helping you up. You nodded and started walking back with her. Immediately she noticed you quickly out of breath just by standing up. She started to talk about something, but you couldn't really focus on her talking, you just wanted to go lay down in her office. You closed your eyes to try and help you focus, but you ended just stumbling forward and falling on your hands and knees.

Angela gasped and immediately helped you up, "That's it! You're staying in my office for the rest of the day. And you will be taking the rest of the week off! I'll let everyone know so they don't come and bother you with training or mission!" she said, putting your arm around her neck and helping you walk with her, "Nooo, I'm fine! I promise!" you whined.

The both of you made it inside, your girlfriend was basically dragging you at this point. Angela huffed as she saw Genji at her door, "Hey Angela can you hea-"

"Not now Genji!" she yelled, opening her door and bringing you inside. Angela brought you to the nearest medical bed and laid you down. She started to grab medicine and her medical tools. You don't if your sickness it getting to your brain, but it seemed like everything was going in and out and everything was moving so fast.

Angela took your temperature, placed a wet rag on your burning forehead, and fed you your food from earlier so she would be able to give you medicine. She took your food, your favorite she may add, and fork and started to feed you. You slowly ate but at some point, you started gagging, "Okay, I'm done eating..." you pushed the fork away from you. "Oh, meine liebe, my poor baby," she whispered, kissing your cheek. You mustn't be feeling good at all if you're not eating your favorite food.

You whined, "Angie...I wanna go home and be in our own bed..." She gave you a sad smile, "I know you do, but you need to lay down for now," she whispered, brushing your hair out of your face. "Rest now liebe, whenever it's time to go home I will wake up..."

You nodded, feeling yourself slip into sleep slowly. Angela watched over you as you slept, occasionally kissing your cheek and knuckles. She then looked up at the clock.

13:00

She sighed, getting up and going to her door and flipping her sign to read, "The doctor is in!" She looked over and saw Genji sitting on the waiting chairs outside her office. He smiled at her and she sighed, "Come in Genji, what happened this time?" As he was explaining what happened, she felt her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

She wished it was time to go home with you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you reading

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! :) <3

[unholydeukae]

Gahyun's Sex ABC

A - Angel (her face is literally angelic and she uses that to her advantage) B - Brat (...you didn’t like that she did that? Well, I guess a punishment is in order 😇) C - Choking (being choked obviously) D - Desk (if anyone loves to be bent over a desk to get fucked, it’s the maknae) E - Exhibitionism (in “real life” and also e.g. being on the phone while being fucked) F - Free use (use her whenever wherever you want, she’ll like it) G - Greedy (sometimes even overestimates herself) H - Hair pulling (when she’s getting backshots or giving head) I - Intensity (she wants to feel everything as intensely as possible - so basically harder, deeper, faster :)) J - Jelly (not the food, but the material that some sex toys are made out of - she enjoys the way it feels inside of her) K - Kneeling (the most powerful position is on your knees, right? 🙃) L - Lips (her lips are so gorgeous and kissable and she likes lips in general) M - Make-out (anywhere and anytime) N - Nudes (she loves to show her body off) O - Outdoors (car, music show, amusement park…) P - Praise kink (tell her what a good girl she is while blowing her back out) Q - Quickie (not her absolute favourite, but she’ll take it if there’s no other possibility) R - Rough sex (in any capacity, really) S - Switch (you might not believe it and she’s strongly sub-leaning but when she doms… I hope God has mercy) T - Teasing (she does the teasing but from the sub/brat-perspective - moving sensually, sending pics…) U - Unicorn dildo (probably her most precious possession, it’s perfectly twisted and pastel rainbow coloured - glittery, of course) V - Vulgar language (she might be the youngest but she has the wildest vocab) W - Wannabe size queen (you could also say, the size queen in training) X - Sex everywhere (she has a list with places where she wants to get fucked, those could be as vague as “supermarket” and as specific as “over the counter in the dressing room of music show XY") Y - Yoohyeon-sexual (submissive, bratty partners in crime) Z - Zoo (you guessed it, public sex - and she’s definitely proud of this one…)

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Night Nurse - Ch 6

A John Wick x Helen Fic

When nurse Helen Morgan is caught in the crossfire of a shootout and aids the injured John Wick, she’s faced with two options: serve the High Table, or be executed as a Witness. She tells herself her choice to work at the Continental has everything to do with survival, and excellent pay, and *not* her growing feelings for the Tall, Dark, and Handsome Assassin™ who got her into this mess in the first place, thank you very much. │ Masterlist / Chapter Map │

VI.

On their way through the lobby they found themselves intercepted by Winston, who presented Helen with a small red box, the sort with gold trimmed corners that usually would contain an expensive piece of jewelry. With wide eyes she accepted it, shooting John a look of bewilderment, wondering if there was some Underworld ritual happening she didn’t grasp.

John, however, had an idea of what it might contain. He nodded for her to open it, and she found a little black transmitter with a button. It had a clip and would be easily concealable anywhere, from a pocket to under her clothes. She let out a little sigh of relief, slipping the box into her purse. “Thank you, Winston. I appreciate it.”

Graciously he nodded. “My pleasure, and my regret that it may be necessary. But then, we are all villains within these walls, Miss Helen. I fear you are an angel of mercy walking amongst devils.”

John barely repressed an eyeroll at Winston’s dramatization. It didn’t mean he was wrong, mind, just…so…Winston.

“I’m not that angelic,” she countered with a little smile, and a sidelong look at the assassin at her side that spoke volumes. It was frightfully telling, earning John a raise of eyebrows from the Manager. John simply returned the older man’s gaze, betraying nothing, even while his heart did a frantic drumroll in his chest.  

 “I have no doubt you’re just full of surprises,” said Winston, his words heavy with double meaning as he looked between she and John. John got the sense that Winston was trying to communicate something else, but as usual, it went over his head. “I fear that device will only serve you here on the Continental grounds. Out there, you must fend for yourself.”

“Understood. I truly appreciate your accommodation. I know I’m not as dangerous as all of you. I’m afraid I’m a healer, not a killer.”

Winston’s stare settled on John once more as he said, “Give it time.” Leaning in closer, the Manager lowered his voice nearly to a whisper. “You might ask yourself, Jonathan, why the little bear would so seemingly foolishly provoke you. For Mikhail Medvedev is not, in fact, as stupid as he looks.”

John’s eyes narrowed to slits, a look that was sharp as obsidian. “Do you know something?”

“I know only what I am seeing played out on my stage.” He waved to indicate the entirety of his beautiful kingdom, the luxuriously appointed lobby and everything beyond.

“Uh huh.”

Helpful, as usual.

“He certainly could not challenge you out in the open.”

John lowered his voice, unable to conceal the thread of heat in his tone. “But he didn’t challenge me. He went after her. I feel like it was dumb luck I intercepted the...” He paused, choked by rage all over again as he thought about it. When he could speak again, he settled for, “Shake down,” though it hardly encompassed the intended offense.

He thought about how he had tossed and turned that night after Helen had left him for another patient, unable to rest, unable to sleep. As though he’d known a signal would arise, that she would need him. It was ridiculous, of course. There had been no real specific indications. He wasn’t fucking psychic. Perhaps just filled with dread for what seemed inevitable, in a hotel filled to the gills with predators.

“Like it or not, it is widely known among us now that the Nurse came into our world because of you, and that she possesses your favor. You think it can’t be considered an indirect attack on you? Tarasov’s most feared assassin?”

The thought made John’s blood run cold.

Fucking politics.

“You think the Medvedevs are moving on the Tarasovs?”

Winston shrugged. It was as good as a yes. He wasn’t supposed to favor one crime family over another, but Managers were human, and prone to their preferences. What John maybe didn’t realize, was that he himself bore more of Winston’s favor than Viggo or any of the other Tarasovs.  

It wasn’t that John cared, really, for the well being of the Tarasov Bratva. Viggo was a business associate. Friends...were a rare beast in their business. True friends were goddamn unicorns. The Tarasovs paid him well enough, but what worried him most now was not war, but that Helen seemed to have landed right smack in the middle of it.

“God dammit.”

Winston tilted his head in acknowledgement to John’s assessment.

“I sense you have a day ahead of you, Jonathan. I will leave you two to it.” He nodded, and took his leave, crossing the lobby to greet another assassin newly arrived.

Despite Winston’s warnings, John wasn’t sure he should raise the alarm just yet. Going to Viggo with this might prove premature.

Maybe he would get the opportunity to just kill Mikhail, his two mountainous heavies, and sweep it all under the rug.

The Tarasovs and the Medvedevs had coexisted for years. A bloody power grab smacked of a plot thought up by the meathead youths hungry for glory, not the older men who were already rich, powerful, and managing nicely to stay out of prison and enjoy their ill-gotten gains living lives of luxury. Wars drew unwanted attention. Federal attention, that couldn’t be bribed away so cheaply as the local talent.

John nodded to himself, answering his own internal dialogue. Helen watched him, her expression solemn. “It’s ok, John. Whatever you need to do…”

“No,” he said. “We’re still going to have our day.”

“Are you sure?”

He appreciated that she thought that maybe he shouldn’t run off to Jersey with a possible war on the horizon. But nothing was certain. He imagined what he would actually say to Viggo, if he tried to warn the boss now. So there’s this woman I like, and Ivan’s son may or may not have tried to have his way with her. Then we glared at each other over breakfast. Then I put him in his place with the direst of insults.

Yeah. That wasn’t going to fly.

“I am.” Then it occurred to him, “If you still want to go?”

She gave a little snort, a sparkle of laughter in her eye. “Good one, Mr. Wick.”

He just couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from turning upwards at that. She was fearless, or, dare he think it…she felt safe with him. “Can I take your bag?” He gestured at the carryall she had slung over her shoulder. 

“Thanks, you’re sweet, but maybe you should keep your hands free?”

For guns, or whatever might come their way, he realized.

“You really are perfect,” he blurted before he could stop himself.

Her eyes glittered like goldstone, and she sidled a step closer, smoothing her hand down his tie. Every nerve in his body came alive with that small, seemingly innocent, touch. “Remember you said that when you get to know me better.”

He didn’t think he could ever think of her as anything but perfection.

“Well…I think I’m adding blades training to your lesson plan today. If I ever forget, you can remind me.”

She paused at that, but only for a moment, a ripple in a pool there and gone. “Well, I’m already pretty good with a scalpel. Just saying…”

Her smile was the sun, bright, beautiful, and lifegiving. He was such a goner for this woman. They had to get out of here, before he really embarrassed himself.

“Ready to go?”

“Sure.”

He offered his arm, and together they bravely, or very foolishly, dared to leave the sanctuary of the Continental for the big bad city beyond.

***

“John. What. The hell. Is this?”

These were Helen’s words as the valet roared up in John’s 1969 Mustang Boss 429. She was grinning like a fool as she said it though, so he didn’t take terrible offense.

“My daily driver?”

“Oh my god.” The heavily tattooed valet looked between them and his colleagues on the steps, simultaneously interested and anxious about this interaction.

No one talked to John Wick this way.

Little did they know, John Wick was loving every minute of it.

She ran a hand lovingly down the hood, appreciating the machine’s vintage lines. It was sleek, predatory, but stylishly subtle with its deep gray and matte black paint job, the dark racing stripes on the front. Like it knew it was the meanest motor on the road—it didn’t have to be vulgar about it.

“You know what. I take it back. It’s so you.”

John had always found the art of automotive pinups fairly ridiculous. The back room of Aurelio’s was plastered with scantily clad, implausibly proportioned women suggestively positioned over cars. He’d never understood the point. Wasn’t the car sexy enough? Yet now, seeing Helen leaning against his machine in her street clothes, just that shapely green sweater, a short brown leather jacket, and indigo washed jeans—he was starting to understand. Desire overtook him like wildfire from his head to his toes, and he found he wanted to christen the hood of this car with her beautiful long legs wrapped inextricably around him.

The thought made his every hair stand on end, an uncomfortable flush blooming beneath his collar.

“I’m glad you approve,” he finally got out in an attempt to cover the raucous churning he felt inside, his voice gone rough with this unhelpful inner dialogue. He held the passenger side door open for her, and she would never know the feat of self-control it took not to grab her up, as she brushed past to situate herself down in the passenger’s seat.

He took her bag to throw in the trunk. But before closing her door he couldn’t resist leaning down towards her, his arm on the roof, an eyebrow raised. “So, do you like to go fast?”

She inspected her nails, playing along with a knowing little smile. He knew then that he hadn’t fooled her a bit. That she saw everything with those intelligent amber eyes, and he’d never been so glad to feel so exposed.

“Honey, I’m not the one who’s been taking it slow here.”

Their eyes met, her gaze hitting John like a bullet to the heart. He clutched at his chest with a conspiratorial little smile, wishing he could keep this perfect moment in a bottle. A moment with a woman in which they were both perfectly happy. Was it really possible?

His long-ingrained cynicism tried to quash this feeling under its thumb, but this strange new sense of joy resisted.

It seemed like anything was possible, with her.

He didn’t quite burn out as they left the Continental, but the roar of their departure won grins from the red-suited valets who stood on the sidewalk before the hotel. 

Truth be told, downtown Manhattan wasn’t actually the best place to drive fast, the constant stop and go of traffic and stoplights getting in their way. Helen didn’t seem to mind, curled up in the seat next to John, surveying the city going by through the windshield. Though technically she possessed a car, she rarely drove it, letting her little sister use it for the transport of art projects and her circle of wacky bohemian friends.

Helen had been a caretaker since she was practically a child herself, to her little sister, and her mother who was often incapacitated. This new sensation of being taken care of was a heady thing, and not just because her protector was a tall, dark, and handsome mafia assassin with the soulful eyes of a poet, and the long-fingered hands of a musician...

She was staring at those hands on the steering wheel, and the gear shift, painfully aware that it would have been such an easy thing for him to reach out to her in between changing gears. A part of her wished he would, and yet, it was achingly sweet, how respectful this man was. Most men would have tried to bed her by now, would not have resisted the pull of their chemistry, no matter the consequences to her or to him. Since that first night, when he’d been weakened by injury and unwilling to stand against her as she bull-dogged her way into his world, he’d been so careful not to further entangle her.  

As much as she despised him, maybe she owed Mikhail Medvedev a thank you for bringing John closer to her. It was a dangerous thing, perhaps. Not because of John Wick’s reputation or his involvement with the Tarasovs. Because, she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to let him go.

“Can I ask you a question?” she posed as they paused at a seemingly unnecessarily long red light.

“Sure.”

“Did you ever find out who was shooting at you on the subway?”

John blinked, looking over at Helen from behind his dark aviator glasses. It felt like all that had happened a lifetime ago. The incident officially had been swept under the respective rug, any pertinent surveillance video erased with the offering of a gold coin, and the truth was… “No.”

He hadn’t even looked into it, really, past ensuring the cleanup. The occurrence of people trying to kill him was so frequent he’d damn near forgot about it. He’d had a couple of time-sensitive contracts to prioritize completing, and getting Helen settled at the Continental, and…he definitely shouldn’t have just let it go.

She nodded, not seeming to judge him for it. But he could tell the wheels were turning in that brilliant brain. “Is there a chance…it has to do with this Medvedev-Tarasov thing?”

There was a very good chance of that, looking at the separate pieces now, and Winston’s cryptic little warning disguised as idle gossip.

“Yeah. I’ll look into that.”

The more he thought about it, the more feasible it seemed, although also, ridiculous. The Medvedevs wanted to waste him, The Baba Yaga, so they sent some punk? Who did they think they were dealing with?

But then…he had behaved rather foolishly, making a pattern of taking the subway at the exact same time on a weekly basis. It had almost been asking for someone to at least try for it. 

Helen seemed to be thinking about the vehicle of their first meeting too. “John, what were you doing on the subway all those times, if you have a car like this?”

What, indeed.

Torn between not wanting to lie to her and not wanting to admit the truth just yet, that he’d been drawn to her like a moth to a flame, or from a different side of the coin, that he’d borderline been stalking her, and then nearly got her killed, a silence drew out between them. John glanced in his rearview, checking his surroundings out of habit.

He was almost relieved, when he beheld a black Mercedes G Wagon, the same that had been behind him for several blocks and several turns. He would have bet a fistful of gold coins that Igor or Alexei was behind the wheel.

“Are you buckled up?” he asked quietly, his eyes fixed on his mirror. Were they just following to try to spook John, or would Mikhail be so audacious as to give orders for them to attack here in the middle of Manhattan in the middle of the day? He was afraid the answer might be yes.

Goddamn kids.  

“Yeah. Why?” Bless his brave girl, but there was only a hint of worry in her question.

“Because we’re about to burn some rubber.”

Rather than telegraph with her turning silhouette in the window that they were on to their tail, she calmly examined her own side mirror to look back.

“Is it Mikhail?”

“Not sure,” answered John honestly. “Probably just his soldiers, though.”

“Who the fuck do these assholes think they are?”

John’s mouth twisted into a tight-lipped smile, inexplicably delighted by her cursing. Angry Helen was surfacing, and maybe his wires were a little crossed, but he still thought she was fucking hot.   

“Only one way to find out.”

The light turned green, and he made a sudden right turn without signaling. When the G Wagon swung madly to follow, he knew they had a tail for sure. “Hang on.” The Mustang’s engine roared as he shifted, and the car took off like a shot. They wove in and out of traffic, the less maneuverable Mercedes struggling to follow.

“Oh my god!” exclaimed Helen, gripping the door handle as John wrenched the wheel, downshifting for traction, skidding into a left turn down a smaller street.

The Mercedes nearly tipped trying to follow. The Mustang barely slipped between a brick building and an oncoming box truck. The truck slammed on its brakes, causing a pile up, conveniently blocking the way to the street. They left a snarl of horns and yelling motorists behind them in the dust.

No one did road rage like New Yorkers, God Bless.

“Holy Shit!” exclaimed Helen with wide eyes and a huge smile, turning to watch the kerfuffle behind them quickly disappearing through the back window. Her laughter was like balm for his soul, and John found himself grinning.

 “Your first car chase, I presume?” he asked, looking over with an oh-so-pleased smile.

“I thought that was just New York driving?” she tossed back with a smirk, settling back into her seat again, seemingly unphased. John couldn’t help but feel a swelling sense of pride for how well she took the stress of their madcap car ride.

“Oh no.”

The sight of the G Wagon turning onto their street ahead put a damper on the atmosphere of joy in the car.

“Get down,” instructed John. The passenger in the G Wagon, Igor, brandished a black pistol, and Helen sank down as far as she could in her seat.

Igor squeezed off a couple rounds. John swerved, and the shots went wide.

“Are they actually shooting at us in broad daylight?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

“Yeah.”

There wasn’t really anywhere to go but forward. No way to turn around quickly, no alleys to cut down.

Rather than slow down, John shifted, the growl of the engine echoing his rage. He knew that having Helen in the car with him made everything sharper somehow. The stakes were higher. He never wanted to die, but he’d long ago accepted the inevitability that someday someone would get lucky, and it would be lights out. He didn’t really believe in anything beyond that.

But Helen was here, and he had to survive.

“Hold on.”

“John?”

“Stay down, honey.”

Ducked down in her seat, she couldn’t see, but she certainly knew they were barreling down the street at breakneck speed. Her eyes were the size of saucers, and he hated himself for scaring her.

This had to end now.

With a flick of his wrist John steered into the Mercedes’s lane, challenging the expensive SUV head on. He could see Alexei at the wheel, his dour expression set in grim determination for this game of chicken. Igor, however, was another matter, clearly not such a fatalist as his partner, gesticulating wildly in his seat.  

“John!”

She was peeking just over the dash, unable to keep herself from looking.

He did not answer, his focus on the obstacle before him. Rather than shooting at the oncoming Mustang, Igor was shouting at Alexei, grabbing for the wheel.  

At the last minute, the G Wagon chickened out, swerving madly, a turn so sharp it kicked up on two wheels before skidding into a parked car on the street. There was a magnificent crash, and the Mustang roared on, switching lanes just in time to miss an oncoming taxi cab.

“Holy shit!” Helen sat back up in her seat, watching the carnage as they sped away. Then, to John’s surprise, she laughed, a deep belly laugh that sent warmth from his heart to his toes. “That was fucking awesome.” Her eyes shone like stars, her thick russet curls waving wildly about her face. He’d never wanted to kiss anyone so badly as in that moment, the adrenaline from the chase rushing through his veins. These were the moments that made life worth living for John—who knew it would be made so much sweeter, with a woman by his side? 

This woman, his hindbrain corrected.

Everything was sweeter, with this woman by his side.

<<Chapter 5 Chapter 7>>

[pekodayz]

osoaini angel killer au synopsis kinda (an idea that’s prob finished i just typed smth up)

beta ver. To kinda understand. babys first🤫

Okay so we know how all of the matsus r in disguise as priests at ze chapel. So aini is kinda the same but she is well aware of oso being a demon like ewwwww his vibe ..disgusting creature (we r the same). She’s demon in this but more like a fallen Angel, she didn’t choose this life but she’s learned to live with it sadly. She wishes she can be “pure” again but that life is behind her now. So she spends her time being a priest as well and holding extreme resentment to oso bc it was kinda his fault she’s fallen. Like she hearts her big powers but hates the fact that he’s stripped aini of any access to her world ever again. She misses her life. She wants oso’s head, for everything that he has done, this is all his fault…though she has some faults too. But she dresses in pure white robes to cope, being the “kind soul” to ppl she looks at directly but she isn’t like that at all 💔. She knows this isn’t her, she’s in pain and sorrow every day bc of him.

emotional ver. u can tell i had mental pains

ok so like a long time ago (knowing how mythic beings age way differently than humans) aini and oso knew each other and oso was a demon in disguise (a shame ik) but he was an angel like aini. The were teens at the time, but were very close. Aini saw him as an equal, someone she could trust…that was a big mistake though. Aini was more way more purehearted back then and had let her guard down too much. She told one too many secrets to oso and since he was a demon in disguise, he used that to his advantage (though he felt extreme guilt, but it was his duty as a demon to get rid of all angels) He pulled a stunt that resulted in the death of an angel…and put the blame on aini. She was so confused and betrayed, she trusted him! How could he just go and turn on her back like that?! He’s an angel…wait..no…angels don’t kill other angels. She stared at him, her innocence wilting away as she saw his tail and horns. She felt her heart sank as she stood amongst the council who decided her fate. As unusual as these circumstances were, they believed that she was keeping osomatsu’s true self a secret and were to be banished with him. Aini cried and begged for mercy, but no avail. A punishment this harsh warranted no eyes to see, she was immediately shunned and sent to the depths of the underworld. With him. She never felt this sort of pain before…she looked at her wings…they were bloody and burning. Damnation? Her halo still stood as a reminder of what she once was, but it was blackened. Aini bit her tounge hard enough to draw blood and immediately started looking for osomatsu. This was his fault. All his fault. Where did he go???? This is hell, figuratively and literally. Aini would spend many, many, many years searching for him. Those years took her deity status away and replaced it with the demon one she resented…but must embrace of course. At least I’m strong…she would tell herself with tears. I’m so alone… She ends up becoming a priest, a pure one…to feel what she once felt those hundreds of years ago. Then one day, she sees a priest who looked eerily similar to her old friend. Aini has heard stories of a demon named Lucifer and always wanted to fight him head on, but she had no idea it was osomatsu until she saw him once more. This will finally be her chance to get revenge, but she sees the remorse in his eyes…he knows that’s aini, the one who was the closest to him. Oh how his heart pained every time he was near her. This was your fault y’know. Maybe they’ll rekindle, but not after a well deserved confrontation.

[bandsandwristbands]

“Virgins omnomnom each other” made me laugh xD BUT I would like to ask about “Backyard Heathens” please *0*

(I still regularly think about your diving gaalee comic with the beautiful colors giuzbguiebguibze it was amazing)

HOOOOOO BOYYYYYYY You picked my big one lol

Backyard Heathens is going to be my version of GaaLees relationship development from end of chunnin exams until they get together officially but it involves a metric fuckton of my Suna religion and culture headcanons and it's going to have spritual themes throughout the story. I'm working out prose for retelling Sunan folklore in chunks throughout the story, I'm being weird about formatting. I really want to flesh out Gaara's personality and show that slow burn build of trust between him and Lee!

I already have like 20k written for this and another 6k for an outline and I'm not even close to done lol I might be inventing a whole ass language now im getting carried away so hard

Some Sunan lore dumps for you straight from my sloppy notes

Dyanh- Angels do not exist in sunan lore. There are demon, humans, and those inbetween. So when a flaming humanoid, a deity falls from the sky, creating a crator of magma and subsequent eruptions around her, the presumption is obvious.They label her a demon and a vengeful, one at that one that causes death and destruction and rot something to be feared. She's covered in ash and molten gold. People don't realize how these processes of death enrich The Earth to create a cycle, a bed for new life to be born.

There's a fantastical garden in Sunan lore, similar to the hanging gardens of Egypt or maybe the garden of Adam and eve something akin to that. It is a beautiful Oasis with glass sand on its beaches, and people say this was where the goddess landed. It's mythical, though no one has ever found it. But every once in a while, we find pieces of what's called desert glass, which is yeah just random natural superheated sand that you can find throughout the desert, and it's said that that comes from the origins of suna itself. And it's quite romantic to gift it to someone.

Driotz (rolled r DR-EE-Oh-TZ) Sunan Goddess of pleasure and temptation. Represents indulgence and all-consuming desire. Yes she's the sex one but also drugs and delicious food and wine like dionysis. Less focused on parties and more focused on connecting with and worshiping your body and it's capabilities, not often prayed to specifically but she's the one you call out to when you are feeling so good it's a religious experience. Most commonly used in reference to food (Gaara will say it in coitous lol) ex: "Driotz have mercy" because there are tales of her driving people mad with desire similar to demonic possession usually people who had already allowed a vice to destroy their life and morals. Often mistaken as a succubus by christian based ppl but she doesn't drain your energy and is morally neutral. Pleasure and desire are simply a fact of the human existence.

Some snippets yet to be edited or proof read woops

And designs I drew up for a little something something towards the end of the story

hhhhhh i'll stop info dumping for now but yeah

Tldr; My religious slow burn fic

Also the title comes from the song Sex Concept by Sofia Isella

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

15th August >> Mass Readings (USA)

The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

(Liturgical Colour: White. Year: B(II))

First Reading Revelation 11:19a; 12:1-6a, 10ab A woman clothed with the sun, with the moon beneath her feet.

God’s temple in heaven was opened, and the ark of his covenant could be seen in the temple. A great sign appeared in the sky, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. She was with child and wailed aloud in pain as she labored to give birth. Then another sign appeared in the sky; it was a huge red dragon, with seven heads and ten horns, and on its heads were seven diadems. Its tail swept away a third of the stars in the sky and hurled them down to the earth. Then the dragon stood before the woman about to give birth, to devour her child when she gave birth. She gave birth to a son, a male child, destined to rule all the nations with an iron rod. Her child was caught up to God and his throne. The woman herself fled into the desert where she had a place prepared by God. Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say: “Now have salvation and power come, and the Kingdom of our God and the authority of his Anointed One.”

The Word of the Lord

Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 45:10, 11, 12, 16

R/ The queen stands at your right hand, arrayed in gold.

The queen takes her place at your right hand in gold of Ophir.

R/ The queen stands at your right hand, arrayed in gold.

Hear, O daughter, and see; turn your ear, forget your people and your father’s house.

R/ The queen stands at your right hand, arrayed in gold.

So shall the king desire your beauty; for he is your lord.

R/ The queen stands at your right hand, arrayed in gold.

They are borne in with gladness and joy; they enter the palace of the king.

R/ The queen stands at your right hand, arrayed in gold.

Second Reading 1 Corinthians 15:20-27 Christ, the firstfruits; then those who belong to him.

Brothers and sisters: Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through man, the resurrection of the dead came also through man. For just as in Adam all die, so too in Christ shall all be brought to life, but each one in proper order: Christ the firstfruits; then, at his coming, those who belong to Christ; then comes the end, when he hands over the Kingdom to his God and Father, when he has destroyed every sovereignty and every authority and power. For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The last enemy to be destroyed is death, for “he subjected everything under his feet.”

The Word of the Lord

Thanks be to God.

Gospel Acclamation

Alleluia, alleluia. Mary is taken up to heaven; a chorus of angels exults. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel Luke 1:39-56 The Almighty has done great things for me; he has raised up the lowly.

Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the infant leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, cried out in a loud voice and said, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And how does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the infant in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.” And Mary said:

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my Savior for he has looked upon his lowly servant. From this day all generations will call me blessed: the Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name. He has mercy on those who fear him in every generation. He has shown the strength of his arm, and has scattered the proud in their conceit. He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty. He has come to the help of his servant Israel for he remembered his promise of mercy, the promise he made to our fathers, to Abraham and his children forever.”

Mary remained with her about three months and then returned to her home.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[katy-133]

What's so funny to me about the whole "Medic vs Mercy" thing is that, if you try to look at it with a non-biased mindset, both characters could have worked and been very well-received. When you get right down to it, they are both one-sentence character archetypes (Medic is "a mad scientist" and Mercy is "an angel taken human form").

It's just that Medic was given additional nuance, because as you play Team Fortress 2, you learn about the contradictions to his character:

The medi gun he invented was originally designed to be a weapon but accidentally healed people instead, so he rolled with it.

He treats his fellow teammates as both his found family, and also as his own personal science experiments.

Lost his medical licence because he stole a patient's skeleton.

Was at least 18 years old during WWII and possibly fled his hometown to either join the Allies or avoid being drafted in Germany (his WWII paraphernalia helmet is of German shape, but is white, not grey-green, and uses Geneva Convention/red cross iconography).

Stole his teammates' souls by surgically removing their hearts (hearts are souls in the TF2 universe) and placing them inside himself, but we later find out that he did this to cheat the Devil by preventing him from taking any of them.

Was given a marble bust of Hippocrates with the Solemn Vow engraved on it ("Do No Harm"), but ends up using it as a bludgeoning weapon, thereby breaking his vow in the most ironic way possible.

Loves taking care of birds and has a pet dove named Archimedes, whom he can recognise amongst all the other doves.

Mercy is seemingly "what you see is what you get." An angelic doctor who aims to heal others and felt hesitation in joining the war. She is exactly as advertised.

The fandom found potential nuance to her character when they found dialogue between her and Reaper that implies she helped create him (specifically the exchange, M: "What happened to you?" R: "You tell me, Doctor."). The twist that she possibly created one of the more evil-aligned characters in the game could have helped expand her character, but the devs reacted by saying that the bark lines are not canon, essentially shutting down the conversation, and eventually giving Reaper a different backstory. I have no idea why the devs wouldn't just lean into it, even if it wasn't their initial idea. It was a concept that could have potentially made the fans more invested with Mercy (which is something you want if you're running an MMO) and would give them a starting point for giving players scraps of new lore to keep themselves fed between game updates. It's like Overwatch 2 is allergic to money (but then again, Activision Blizzard isn't known for listening--there's a reason they are referred to as "the Devil's publisher").

In conclusion, Medic became the more contradictory, developed character, and the fandom loves him for it.

Medic can be both this:

*Meet the Medic's choir introduction plays*

And also this:

*Rocket Jump Waltz plays*

And I think that's neat.

[domquixotedospobresblog]

She always took the light for herself, trying to free herself from the darkness that surrounded her, paths full of thorns, where this flower walked, roads full of wild beasts, and fire, it rained and the fire ceased, she was the tamer who calmed the beasts, the wounds came trying to bring down this wingless angel, but the hands of God always healed her, merciful to those who always accused her, his kindness enslaved her, the bonds finally fell to the ground, her mind was at peace, after so many wars, she never got tired, she didn't lose faith, weak, tired, she always stood up, sadness sometimes returns, longing, memories, hopes, everything passes quickly, because being happy is what she wants, she is an angel, who no longer flies in the heavens,he stayed here and can finally rest.

Jonas r Cezar

[elizakai]

RADIANCE REPUDIATION

A Dreamtale Poem (word dump?)

from an entity who believes their an angel, fallen. 🌙

to an entity they believe to pose as one. ☀️

(aka written from Nightmares pov towards Dream, somewhat)

⬇️⬇️ UNDER THE CUT ⬇️⬇️

isn’t it funny? How Time changes Or rather, refuses to

Time doesn't change, in actuality Such is only perception on the part of lower beings Mortals The acute minds of smaller entities

Time Continues steadily Time knows only one loyalty Yes, Time is faithful

For you, the same cannot be said.

It's funny.

You spawn of Regret Regret, a curse that can be escaped Or, alas, could have been, had hindsight not hidden her naked body from your youthful eyes

Irony, too, plays with it's food But, of all this you are aware.

Or…are you? Do you regret? Do you grieve?

…of course not What am I thinking Of course not.

…It's funny

Nurturing such questions

It's…funny

Fate has laid her pieces out And you have made your moves Woe to you, it seems, one who is set in their ways

One who is set in stone.

Hardened is your soul, your essence Why is it we were placed wrongly on this scale? Alas, it seems your longing for mercy goes unanswered Alas, we've fallen from what little grace we'd attained

That is the nature of things This world rewards those who reap misfortune

A bittersweet misfortune, it is

It's funny.

What pride have you, to rebel Fate and her peons?

What arrogance do you cling to? That you may set things right?

Though, I suppose… That, we shall share always. Eternity till Entropy Until one or the other crumbles

Remember, chimera, stone is brittle. The blood of a companion is thicker than the waters of birth. Of this I am relieved… For you've long since tainted the streams of our youth. No tree can grow in a parasitic wasteland.

That is, none that will last.

No, long gone is the person I once thought to know Long dead, are they, and no requiem shall I hold.

Loathe am I to the sowers of our misfortune

Loathe am I to the mother of our wakefulness. It would have been better to have never existed.

To have never known you To have never held you To have never loved you To have never lost you

But Solace is my lover, for she reminds me that it is not I, nor myself, nor him to blame, but you.

Her and them and you and you and you and-

It's funny.

Scramble up the hill A hill of graves Tombstones upon tombstones, add as many as you will. Will it ever be enough for you? Their downfall will not be your upbringing The ladder is unstable Your goal is unattainable.

Claw, fight, scream

Not an ear will turn to you in pity

Humorous, Karma and the bubbling brooks of her laughter

Where is your control?

When did you pass it to me, pray tell?

…unfortunate fool. Not an ear will turn to you in compassion

Forever out of reach, as long as free will remains mine

Time changes not But every person does, will, must! Oh the pained naivety! Does rock abstain one from growth? Silly me! Silly you!

w h y a r e n ' t y o u l a u g h I n g ?

…I can't hear her laughing anymore.

I can't hear her at all.

The laughter is him. Always him. Us? us.

You were never needed, were you, oh iridescent zephyr?

Acceptance.

A weapon I've obtained A defense you've yet to claim

Illusion of the unconscious mind, feeder of false hope, luminous liar of the night. Dearest delusion of grandeur.

Rest now, in what grief you can muster

Rest now, in the act of sorrow you play

You're 500 years behind.

It’s 500 years too late.