#my sick depraved son

[im-getting-help]

Another morning, another minute i think about Oliver Quick being the minotaur, born as a curse. Created to bring pain and destruction. Unlovable creature seeking for tenderness.

Another night, another second i think about Oliver Quick being Icarus, flying carelessly. Forgetting for a moment that the sun can burn. Much too young to know better, loosing everything. Has only himself to blame.

[ladystarksneedle]

Do I make you feel sick?

Aemond x niece reader

Summary: A princess confronts the ghosts of her past.

Word count: 1.7k

Prev<

Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika

She doesn't know what possesses her as she lunges at him, arms flying everywhere, nails clawing at whatever part of him she can hurt. They fall to the ground in a heap, with her screaming and hitting his chest with her fists in quick succession before trying to get to his eye. He flips her over just as she manages to scratch his cheek, hissing as he pins her arms above her head, caging her with the weight of his body.

“Have you had enough?” he huffs impatiently. 

She spits at him aiming for his good eye in response, making him growl and grab her neck in warning. Her eyes widen in fear as she sees him look at her with malice. She struggles to breathe as she realizes it is the first time she's seen the likes of it on his face. His grip relents when he feels her gasping, enough to let her know he's unwilling to kill her. There is a silent warning in his eye, which she accepts with a difficult nod making him relax his hold on her neck letting her breathe at last. She sputters and coughs as he brings his face close to her hammering pulse, biting her neck harshly.

“Why” she whimpers beneath him.

“You know why” he mumbles against the shell of her ear “I was owed a debt”

“At what cost” she spits, angling her face towards his “You've ruined us, destroyed our family”

“He was never mine to begin with”

“But I was,” she croaks as he runs his nose along her cheek.

“You are a liar and a cheat” she breathes against him “Did your hatred not extend to the bastard you laid with”

He chuckles in response pulling her up with him to he sit on his haunches “It seems I've gotten my hands on every last Strong except you”

“What has become of you” she spits in disgust, his moniker lingering at the tip of her tongue.

“Say it, every bit of it is true. I'm just like you”

“I’ve done nothing which wasn't expected of me”

“No, only shed innocent blood for your  mother’s cause”

“I had no part in it” she chokes out  “I didn't wish for him to die”

He gazes at her with mistrust twisting her arms behind her back feeling her riding leathers for a weapon.

“It matters not, little traitor. You made your choice” he hums thoughtfully “Do you know what they said when they murdered Jaehaerys? A son for a son they claimed as they slit his throat” 

She shivers as he pulls her to stand, turning her around to face the trees brandishing the dagger she'd kept hidden beneath her tunic. “Helaena is lost to her grief. They say losing a child does that to a mother, takes away all her sanity. I shall repay yours with justice of my own” he says drumming his fingers across her belly “I know how much you've wanted this, for us to be a family. We'll finally have all that you crave for.”

“You are depraved” she shivers, making him chuckle humorlessly.

“I am what you've made me byka nūmio, you can't escape your fate anymore.”

She twists and thrashes in his grasp as brandishes her blade against her neck, clicking his tongue in response. 

“I despise you,” she whispers. “There is nothing you can do to make me lie with you”

He ignores her as he speaks again “Where is your little dragon, hmm. She seems to have left you all alone.”

She looks around in fright, unable to locate Naerax. The trees around her feel eerily quiet, with no sign of anyone apart from both of them breathing heavily. 

“What have you done to her?”

He chuckles in response. “Fear not she is nearby, uniting with her own. Vhagar shall take good care of her”

“Let me go”

“Didn't you come here to find me” he smirks, nicking her neck watching a column of blood trail down her skin.

“I came here to kill you”

He laughs heartily as he spins her around, sheathing her dagger before effortlessly throwing her over his shoulder “What has your mummer queen's cause come to if they've sent you to accomplish such a task.”

“You don't think I'm capable of it?” she replies, trying to kick him.

“Mayhaps, but I know you far better. Your mother was a fool to test your loyalty”

“I am nothing but” she all but screams.

“Indeed, yet to who begs the question” he smirks, hauling her towards the trees.

“Has all the smoke gotten to your head qyybor. You are a fool to think I'll ever betray my family just as you were to leave King’s landing.” She feels him stiffen as they pass through the canopy, his grip tightening on her. (Uncle)

“I have waited out this war to claim what is owed to me and your tantrums shall be the last thing standing between what I want” he says as she tries to reach the dagger sheathed near his waist.

“I've caught you now byka mittys” he says, pulling her braid to face him, eye glinting in the dark as he smiles at her with glee. “Rest, you'll need it in the days to come” (little fool)

The last thing she sees before she goes limp in his arms are spots of green through the mist shrouding them.

She wakes up to the night sky, clear and starry, as she rubs her eyes. There is a fire kindled before her with a woman turned away from where she now sits awake, staring into it as she grinds something in her hands. 

“Be welcome princess, it's been a while” she says without turning to face her. Her voice rings in her ears, unnaturally shrill as she tries to catch a peek of her face.

“You must be the fire witch”

“I have many names. Most call me Alys”

“Where am I?”

“You are safe, as he would have it”

She glances around trying to find him at her admission, perplexed at the strangeness of her surroundings. They appear to be near a small clearing hidden unnaturally from the rest of the land.

“He shall return soon, you need not worry for him”

“I do not”

Green eyes turn to her, deep and cold as they regard her with mirth. “You are as he spoke of, young and foolish”

She fights the urge to bite back as she responds “You know nothing of me”

Her words evoke the strange woman's laughter, a shrieking sinister sound, rattling her before a few ravens croak near the skyline. 

“Be grateful for his affection, princess” she says mockingly “For that is what is keeping you alive”

“As it has been serving you, I suppose” she says, staring at her swollen womb with distaste.

“Oh yes, but I'm far more useful than a lost girl without her dragon” she snickers. 

“What do you see in the flames? I've heard whispers of your visions.”

“Things that have and will come to pass” she replies cryptically.

“Must be lonely to know he's keeping you with him for your gift” she replies snarkily, noticing her frame stiffen in response. 

“Do not antagonize her too much dōna” she hears as she feels him towering behind her. (Sweet)

She huffs in annoyance as he regards her before walking past her to hand the witch something. She sees her take it before retreating into the forest, leaving them alone again.

“Where is Naerax”

“Asleep, as you were a while ago”

“Why are you keeping me here”

“What do you have to return to? You're far away from home” he bites back. “Or does a certain bastard await your return” he asks, twirling her dagger in his hand.

She stares at him incredulously laughing at his response. “Addam? Nyke daor pāsagon ao” (I cannot believe you) “After all that has happened, that is what bothers you”

“It doesn't matter, he shall not live to see you again”

His response elicits another scream as she tackles him to the ground before being flipped over again with force.

“Does the thought of him dying evoke such despair, perhaps I'll have to kill him sooner”

“You are craven. Will you slay the entire realm in your madness”

“Every traitor shall face his due”

“Perhaps you should start with your lover then”

“And here I thought you wished to spare the innocent”

“She is hardly free from blame”

“The child she carries has no part to play”

“Your babe is as treacherous as his father before him”

“The only traitor I see here is you”

“I have never betrayed you. You are a fool to think so”

“I suppose galavanting about with a Velaryon bastard isn't the treachery that you speak of”

“You base your accusations on rumors? Slanders which are nothing but falsehood” she spits “I stand by what I said, I am nothing but loyal”

He lets her go in bewilderment as she feels her cheeks wet with tears. “None of it is true”

He looks away as she speaks, anger flashing in his eye “You were lost to me”

“I was”

“Then I am not to blame”

“You are and you can never absolve yourself of it. I loved you and you betrayed me.”

“You chose your mother”

“As did you”

“Do you think my decisions haven't tormented me? Do you think you're the only one who's suffered? You made me lose everything” he shouts. “I lost the capital. I lost our advantage while you ran around doing as you pleased.”

“You confuse me with yourself,” she scoffs.

“You've tormented me for years. Do not come here and claim that you love me when all you've ever done is left” he remarks with uncontrolled rage.

“And all you've done is find the first woman you could to warm your bed while I mourned my loss, one that you inflicted” she screams back as he moves towards her grabbing her face in his hands. 

“I despise you” she whispers as he brings his face close to hers shaking with emotion

“As do I,” he whispers back, inching closer to her.

It is only fair, she thinks when he consumes her finally. She feels the salt from her tears coat his lips as they move against hers, velvety and soft as he grips her harshly, pulling her closer in haste. She clings to him as they devour each other and when she lunges at him again, pushing him to the floor of her makeshift bed, he relents easily in his own desperation and unrestrained rage of being pulled apart from what was always meant to be theirs.

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond @watercolorskyy

[the-heartlines]

offering

rhaegon (+ jacenyra if you squint 👀)| [e. 1.1k] dead dove 🪦🕊️

(ughhhh wrote this in a feverish haze when i thought of aegon threatening to kill rhaenyra’s sons if she doesn’t fuck him and give him a son. this is chapter 1/2 most likely {definitely})

“offer yourself up to me, sister, and i shall spare our uncle. provide me with a son and i shall spare your sons my wrath—my fire and blood.”

rhaenyra glances over at the body of her bloody, unconscious husband for a brief moment. his body sprawled, broken, but still breathing—just barely. 

time slows, her heart beats, thundering rapturously inside her chest, when she turns to her precious children, chained up, bound, and gagged. jace, who already has a black eye, and a bloodied, fat lip, struggles against his, trying to fight for her, for his mother—his queen.  

lucerys and joff clutch onto her younger silver haired sons who are all frozen, rooted to the spot, tears streaks and snot staining their faces; desperate to call out for their mother to save them. but there is only one way to surely save them, to spare them from the fiery wrath of sunfyre.

her utmost compliance. obedience. submission.

she has already been forced to kneel, forced to bow to her usurper brother. and now she will either bend to his depravity or break. 

but either way rhaenyra knows she will lose, so she bites her tongue and stares daggers as sharp as their father’s—the one her half-brother is twirling carelessly between his fingers—directly in aegon’s direction, defiant and damning. 

for he can bend her body into any shape, but she will not break. she must remain strong. for her sweet sons.

aegon’s lips curl into a wicked smile, cruelness dripping from his voice, evilly and equally venomous. “or if you would prefer, sister, i can fuck you in front of them all. make them watch me rape their mother before your sons die one by one.” rhaenyra hears a low and guttural noise, a growl, leave jace’s throat and they both look over at him. he’s shaking his head from side to side, trembling with anger, trepidation and tears now running down his face. 

it takes two of aegon’s kingsguard to hold him back, his hands clenching into tight fists, rage alight in his brown eyes. another tear falls down rhaenyra’s cheek, because her oldest son reminds her so much of his father in this moment. no longer a boy, but a man, strong and resilient, unbroken.

and she must be brave for him, her future heir, be a beacon of hope, an example of how sacrifices must be made for those you love, those you cherish. 

“yes.” rhaenyra hisses through gritted teeth, wanting to shove their father’s dagger into her half-brother’s heart. to eat it. to  slice his throat and spill all of his blood, until there is none left in his veins, but her fire seeping inside, replacing his cold, heartless body with every fiber of it.

“my king.” aegon corrects, mocking her, reminding her of her place, beneath him, at his feet, his beck and call. with just one word uttered from her lips that gives him all the power, everything he’s ever wanted: her.

“yes, my king.” rhaenyra seethes, voice unwaveringly upset, burning with resentment. and it makes aegon’s ego swell and cock harden hearing her say it with such contempt, such malice. her lilac eyes ablaze with enough malevolence to murder him. and he wishes, hopes she will try to. for when he fucks her for the first time, he plans on leaving their dagger near her. just close enough for the temptation, near enough to coax and entice that violence brewing and boiling beneath her skin. 

for once aegon tells her it was he who killed their father, that he suffocated the sick man like it he was suffocated for years, unable to breathe, to think about nothing but her—his sister will want nothing more than to kill him. to tear him to pieces. seek revenge with his blood upon her hands and teeth. and aegon will let her draw his blood eventually, but first he wants to have some fun. 

“you’re a good mother, rhaenyra. choosing your children’s wellbeing above your own.” aegon taunts, climbing from the throne, ascending the steps and moving towards her. “an unselfish and caring queen through and through. on your knees, where you belong. below me.” 

his crotch is eye level with her and rhaenyra can see the outline of his bulge prevalent against his breeches, hard and unyielding. she clenches her hands into fists, wanting to retch, to run. “kiss it.” rhaenyra whips her head up towards him, mouth and eyes wide as a full moon at the implications. but before she can protest with words, he smirks knowingly, extends his hand to her, with a huge ring, as an offering, a truce. 

and kiss the ugly signet she does, with tight pursed lips, not daring to taste the sweat or salt of his oily skin, not daring to let her saliva coat it.

“take her sons back to their bedchambers.” rhaenyra turns her head back to her sons, giving them a small smile, reassuring them that she will be okay. she feels aegon’s heat radiating off of him, and her skin crawls with disgust when he reaches to wrap one of her loose tendrils of silver around his finger, twirling it and twisting it, already tangling her around him. her four youngest freeze in their tracks, but are forced towards the red keep’s entrance by aegon’s soldiers. 

“i will be fine, i promise!” she yells, hoarse, voice cracking, the doors closing as promise echoes off the walls, wondering if her children even heard her. but she must believe they heard her words, because she knows she will not be. but she must be brave for all of them, strong—

“nephew.” aegon says the word haughtily, and now more of his hands are tangling in rhaenyra’s hair, tugging her head backwards harshly. “you will remain.”

jace.

“jace!” rhaenyra cries panicked; his name a plea, a prayer, beckoning her son to her aid, to save her because she’s terrified. and jace, always coming to her rescue, attempts to escape the kingsguard—run towards her. but he’s tangled and twisted into the enemy’s web, unable to escape. an armored fist smashes him in the stomach, making him buckle over, next to daemon, who remains unconscious. “please! no!” rhaenyra begs, trepidation in her voice, and aegon’s other hand encircles around her throat, constricting her oxygen, choking her, further entangling her within his grasp.

“yes.” he growls, anger washing over his face. “your headstrong son,” he pauses spitting the word ‘strong’ out vehemently, “is going to watch his king fuck and breed his mother.” 

and that alone breaks both mother and son, as jace starts uncontrollably sobbing, tears pouring down his handsome face, defeated. and rhaenyra wants to sob, to run to him, hold him close and never let go—but aegon’s hand threatens to choke the life from her. so she closes her eyes instead and tries to picture her son’s boyish face, bright and innocent, held tight in his trueborn father’s embrace. for only those happy memories can save her now as her vision starts to fade and darkness takes hold.

[storm-angel989]

Master List Valentino

See the below for all stories starring Valentino!

Dad Valentino x Daughter Reader:

Valentino x Toddler Reader (Vox, I need a hand)

Valentino x Teenager Daughter (Papi! I need you!)

Valentino x Toddler Reader (Fix it, Vox)

Valentino x Toddler Reader (Butterflies)

Valentino x Elementary Age Daughter (Eye doctors Appointment)

Valentino x Teenage Daughter (Daddy, I like girls)

Valentino x Teenage Daughter (Papi, I didn't mean it)

Valentino x Teenage Daughter (Introducing Vox)

Valentino x Seventeen Year Old Daughter (Introducing Vox 2)

Valentino x First Grade Daughter (Bullied)

Valentino x Teenage Daughter (Welcome to Hell)

Valentino x Teenage Daughter (Running Away from Home)

Valentino x Teenage Daughter (A cut too deep)

Valentino x Younger Daughter (Beach Day)

Valentino x Teenage Daughter (Sneaking Out, Sneaking In)

Valentino x Teenage Daughter (Yeah, She Thinks She's Slick)

Valentino x Teenage Daughter (It Gets Better, Mi Amore)

Valentino x Younger Reader (Tummy Bugs)

Valentino x Daughter (The Mayor)

Valentino x Daughter (Always Throw The Last Punch)

Valentino x Early Adult Daughter (We'll take care of it, right guys?)

Valentino x Daughter (I told you to stay inside!)

Valentino x Daughter (Extermination Day)

Valentino x Younger Daughter (No, My Kitty!)

Valentino x Y. Daughter (She's Hardheaded, Just Like Her Daddy)

Valentino x Teenage Daughter (You Did What Now?)

Valentino x Younger Daughter (Thunderstorms)

Valentino x Daughter (How Did I Forget Her Birthday?)

Valentino x Teen Daughter (You Hurt My Daughter, I'll Hurt You)

Valentino x Trans Teen Daughter (I Love You For Who You Are)

Valentino x Younger Daughter (OTO: Lucifer's Party)

Valentino x Daughter (Diet Pills, Are You Fucking Serious?)

Valentino x Daughter (My best friend, Ana) Part One

Valentino x Daughter ( My best friend, Ana) Part Two

Valentino x Daughter (A motorcycle? Haha. You're Grounded.)

Valentino x Daughter (Insecurities Part One)

Valentino x Daughter (Insecurities Part Two)

Valentino x Daughter (Highs and Lows)

Valentino x Daughter (The fastest way to be grounded)

Valentino x Daughter (Aroace, there is a name for who I am)

Valentino x Daughter (Angel, if you tell anyone I'll kill you)

Valentino x Daughter (Sleep Depravation, part one)

Valentino x Daughter (Your body is perfect)

Valentino x Autistic Daughter (Negative Stims)

Valentino x Vox's Daughter:

Eres jodidamente estúpida, niñita? (Part One)

Eres jodidamente estupida, ninita? (Part Two)

Eres jodidamente estupida, ninita? (Part Three)

Eres jodidamente estupida, ninita? (Part Four)

Drugs n Memories

Valentino x Son

Valentino x Teenage Son (Angel Dust)

Valentino x Teenage Son (It wasn't your fault)

Valentino x Female SO:

Period Pains

That Time Of The Month, Goddamn It

He always keeps his promises

Body Changes Post Baby

Surgery? Like hell. (OTO Fluff)

Valentino's Sick Day (OTO Fluff)

Why yes, there is a kink for that.

Fuck off, Charlie

Love Your Body, Because I Do

Throw away the scale, mi amore

Girl's Night (OTO Fluff)

Tests Don't Lie, But Sometimes I Do

How does a moth even get a migraine? (OTO Fluff)

Fucking Angel Dust (OTO)

We're in this together (OTO Fluff)

What do you mean, ADHD?

Valentino x Employee:

Fighting For Control

On Valentino's Stage

[stardustprompts]

thirteen ghosts  sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw ;  language , blood , death

'oh, bad! that's one way to describe it. uh, 'insane' seems a little more appropriate.'

'it is my professional opinion that we should get the hell out of here. now!'

'I just need to take the edge off.'

'careful, (name). don't get too curious.'

'who are you to play god?'

'playing's for children.'

'I thought you were psychic.'

'that's not how it works and you know it!'

'perhaps we'll meet again in another life.'

'you crazy son of a bitch, what did you do?'

'you're being paranoid and overprotective.'

'I know this is gonna sound completely whacked, alright? but I need you to stay with me.'

'don't laugh at me.'

'not so fast, you gotta cater to my ego first.'

'don't touch me.'

'how's your head?'

'they're kids, what'd you expect?'

'just this once, don't argue with me.'

'what part of that code are you having trouble cracking?'

'I don't see any ghosts.'

'I want you to do me a favor and stop with all the haunted house nonsense. okay?'

'you don't have to scream, alright? just ... chill.'

'no, I don't think we should split up.'

'I told you, I can't see any ghosts.'

'it's a ghost! just like I've been saying all night.'

'there are ghosts around us all the time. most of them, they can't hurt is. most of them don't wanna hurt us. but there are exceptions.'

'there's no such thing as ghosts.'

'don't speak. don't move.'

'I don't think you should be teasing the ghost.'

'it looks to me like I'm saving your ass.'

'if you want help, you gotta help me first.'

'can I rely on you not to get me killed?'

'what the hell are you doing here?!'

'stop dragging your ass, man!'

'you got something to say, say it.'

'let's start with this is all your goddamn fault!'

'if you haven't noticed, I'm a little bit of a freak!'

'I touch somebody, and a whole life full of shit just flashes in front of my eyes!'

'so yeah, I'm depraved. and (name) was my friend and he accepted me!'

'he didn't accept you, you're pathetic! he used you!'

'god, I've been trying to help you.'

'love is the most powerful energy.'

'I don't read latin.'

'it doesn't add up. it doesn't make any sense. there's gotta be a better way.'

'how much of this equation makes any sense at all?'

'I sure as hell hope I don't bleed to death, 'cuz that would suck.'

'why are you so mad at me? I did everything you asked me to do.'

'you're not mad at me, are you?'

'I've been looking for a reason to like myself for a long time.'

'greatness requires sacrifice.'

'I'm nothing without you.'

'the world has no time for little people like you. it needs people who are willing to do anything for greatness.'

'I am sick of this nanny shit.'

'this was not in the job description. I quit!'

[molsno]

after my brother died and I heard my mom get so angry trying to contact his father that she screamed and snapped her phone in half I was terrified of course but like. fuck!!! I get it now!!! that man got her pregnant at 18 and then fucked off and took no part in raising his own son or giving her any financial support, and this would end up being a pattern that happened to her multiple times - once for every child she had. that man cared so little about the woman he left behind for 30 years he wouldn't even attend his son's funeral, let alone help pay for it. I understand why she was so furious now!!! that must have been one of the only times I've ever heard my mom cry before and I fucking get it now. men are so fucking cruel and depraved. it makes me sick knowing how little the average man cares about women.

[icarusignite]

An Eye for an Eye (part 2)

parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 /  5 / 6 / 7 / Future parts: MASTERLIST

A/N: I speedran this chapter in a day so might be a little clunky. I also finally watched episode 10 today and let's just say it was not good for my already declining mental health lol. I have started reading the book though so this will be a multipart series. Anyways enjoy :)

This fic is also available on AO3

Word count:  2112

Aemond was awoken by the sound of the door creaking open. He blinked slowly and surveyed his surroundings. He remembered carrying his wife to bed the night before, so he must have fallen asleep afterwards. His knees were folded beneath him on the floor and his head lay on his sleeping wife. He also seemed to be holding one of her hands, and her other had somehow found its way to rest in his hair. Aemond closed his eyes, wanting to savour the moment a bit longer. She must have unconsciously reached for him because he was sure she wouldn't want to be near him if she was awake. 

He finally found enough resolve to get up and untangle her fingers from his hair. He lay both of her hands folded on her stomach and tucked the blankets around her. Her face had a pinched look of anguish, a permanent frown etched onto her face even as she slumbered. He brushed her hair away from her face and brushed a kiss to her forehead in farewell. Then, he turned towards the intruder at the door who had awakened him. 

"The queen is requesting your presence at the breakfast table, my prince," said the maid standing there, eyes downcast. 

"Ah yes, I'll be there shortly."

"Yes, Prince Aemond."

"Also, when she wakes up, make sure she eats something, please," Aemond cast one last forlorn look back at Daenys's sleeping form before he left. 

_________

Tension was thick in the air when Aemond arrived for breakfast. Aegon looked like he was nursing a hangover, and his mother looked absolutely exhausted. His grandsire on the hand looked satisfied with himself. His gaze met Aemond's as he sat down. 

"Ah, I have been meaning to speak to you. About your duties as a prince," Otto Hightower said conspiratorially, leaning his head towards Aemond. 

"Yes grandsire," Aemond stated gruffly, in no mood for any more of Otto’s schemes at the moment. 

"You must think of siring children with that wife of yours now. In fact, time is of the essence, the sooner the better."

Aemond choked on his drink and spluttered, "Siring what?"

"Children. You must bind her to you and that is the surest way. She would not even think of leaving with your babe in her womb. Raising a child without a father is near impossible and she would not be allowed to leave with a prince's son within her."

"Are you insane? Why would you even speak of such things? Her brother just died? How could you even think about such a thing at this time?" Aemond exclaimed indignantly.

"Don't pretend to play a sympathetic husband dear boy. After all, it was you who killed her brother. It is precisely why I am speaking of such things. The murder of Lucerys Velaryon means war and you know it. If Daenys were to join her mother, it would be very troublesome for us. Her dragon Silverwing is one of the old ones, you know that. It could very well turn the tide against us," Otto sneered. 

Aemond felt sick. His wife was falling apart and his grandsire wished for him to trap her with a child. He could not do that to her. As cruel as she thought him, he would not prove her right in that. A part of him wondered though, if she would indeed leave. She would have left the day Aegon was crowned if not for Otto and the Queen keeping her under lockdown. Aemond had deluded himself into thinking that these past few days she had stayed for him; that she had not put up more resistance because a part of her too could not bear to leave him. He wondered if his actions had destroyed the last dregs of affection she held for him. 

"I cannot do that grandsire. I am not that depraved. And besides, she loathes me. She would slit my throat if I touched her."

Otto scoffed, "Whoever said she had to be a willing partner. Don't be daft boy."

Aegon laughed from across the table.

"It seems that my brother has not yet discovered the pleasure of an unwilling bedmate. Not to worry dear brother, you will have plenty of time to learn. Wives are not always willing to the tastes of their lord husbands, he winked at Helaena, who abruptly got up from her seat beside him and hurried away. 

Alicent slammed her hand on the table.

"Enough!" she hissed, "we will not have such talk at the table. Let us all have our meal in peace so that we can get on with our day."

Otto harumphed, shaking his head in anger.

"You will see that I warned you when that wench runs away. You cannot keep her here under lock and key forever. She is Rhaenyra's daughter. Do you really think she'll stay? She might have deluded herself into loving you during times of peace, but you really think she will stay with the man who murdered her brother?"

Aemond stood up abruptly. He bowed his head at his mother and then begrudgingly at his brother, before storming away to practice his sparring. He was too full of energy these days and he didn't know what to do with himself. Perhaps this was why he had indulged himself and chased his nephew back at Storm's End. A decision that had cost him everything it seemed. 

_________

On his way back from sparring practice, Aemond was surprised to see his mother in front of his room. Perhaps she was here to see how Daenys was faring. Perhaps Daenys would allow herself to be comforted by her. Aemond knew Alicent had grown to love her like a daughter, even if it had started for him initially. 

"Mother? Are you here to see Daenys?" Aemond smiled at his her.

Alicent face registered momentary panic before she wiped it away so fast that Aemond thought he must have imagined it.

"Yes, yes I'm here to see Daenys. The poor girl hasn't eaten since yesterday," Alicent smiled gently.

"That's good," Aemond hesitated, "and uh...if you could mother, would you please tell her I didn't mean it. She hates me now and I don't know what to do. I cannot bear it."

Aemond looked at her beseechingly and Alicent's heart clenched. She had never seen her son look this heartbroken. Except maybe for when he used to cry about his brother and nephews teasing him about not having a dragon. Daenys used to stick up for him back then too. It was unsavoury business, all of this. If it could be helped, Alicent wanted to avoid excessive bloodshed. She had hoped that Rhaenyra would accept the terms she and Aegon had laid out and she had even believed that in honour of their childhood friendship, she may have accepted. She didn't think that anymore though. What was done was done.

"Yes, my darling boy. I shall try. But give her space to grieve. That boy was most precious to her," Alicent placed her hand on Aemond's cheek.

"Oh and mother, what's that in your hand? Is that a letter?" Aemond's eye finally caught sight of the wrinkled envelope his mother was holding. It had Rhaenyra and Daenys's names on it. 

"Oh, this? This is nothing. Nothing of significance, don't worry about it," Alicent tried to wave away his concern.

"Mother..." Aemond warned.

"Fine, it is a letter from Rhaenyra to Daenys. It is unimportant. I have read it and it will only upset her more," Alicent snapped. 

"Mother! You're reading her letters!"

"There's going to be a war Aemond. Stop being foolish. Your childish behaviour has already cost us a lot. It is important her letters are screened for information!"

"So then, what have you found? What great battle plans have you unearthed in the letter?"

Alicent eyes strayed to the floor, "This one does not contain any. But she should not see this. It will bring her more pain. You do not want to hurt her more do you?"

"It does not matter. We should give it to her either way. I know for a fact that it would hurt her more if she knew we were keeping her mother's letters from her," Aemond argued.

"Fine. Give it to her. See how she reacts and don't say I didn't want you," Alicent scorned. "You do know that all these little things you insist on doing for her will not endear you to her. Not anymore. I know you love her, and I do too, but we must now think of protecting Aegon's crown. Your duty is to your family, keep that in mind."

After he watched Alicent walk away, Aemond eventually turned his attention back to his room's door. He had wanted to come to see if she was awake, but now that he was here, he wasn't sure how to approach her. He cracked the door open and prepared himself for when she told him to leave. He was, however, greeted by a much different scene. Helaena was seated on the bed crosslegged, and Daenys sat in front of her. Helaena was brushing out Daenys's hair and humming something Aemond recognized as a tune from their childhood. It seemed that neither of them had noticed his entrance and so he held his breath and stilled himself, not wanting to disturb the fragile peace that had settled over the room. It was nice to see Daenys allowing herself to be comforted, even if she wouldn't let him near her. She had, at last, stopped crying, although Aemond could still see fresh tear stains on her face. Her eyes were closed and she leaned into Helaena's touch as she tenderly braided the strands away from her face. When she was done, Daenys leaned back into her. Aemond's heart cracked when she started crying again, but Helaena wrapped her arms around her and held her tight. They had always been the best of friends, and Aemond was glad to see that her vexation with the rest of his family hadn't spoiled Daenys's friendship with Helaena. 

Eventually, Helaena's eyes fell on him and she smiled. Aemond's expression begged her to stay silent about his presence, but it was to no avail. Her whole face lit up and she lifted her arm from Daenys's shoulder to wave at him. 

"Brother! Are you here to see Daenys?" Helaena waved him over. 

Aemond shifted uncomfortably, unsure if he should approach the two girls. Daenys's eyes turned cold when she caught sight of him and she turned her face away. He shuffled closer and sat on the edge of the bed, keeping his eyes on his sister as she chattered on about her latest interests. Daenys remained with her face buried in Helaena's neck and her arms wrapped around her, sniffling quietly. Helaena stroked her hair while she talked, almost absent-mindedly. After a while though, he felt Daenys's gaze on him, silently observing. When he turned to meet her eye, she dropped her gaze to the letter clutched in hand. Helaena took that as her cue to leave, pressing a kiss to Daenys's cheek before she said goodbye. Daenys even managed to crack a small smile for her in farewell. Aemond swallowed thickly. He hadn't seen her smile in the past two days and he had forgotten how much he missed the sight of it. 

Left alone, at last, the peaceful air of the room vanished. Daenys's eyes hardened once again when she turned back to Aemond. 

"There is a letter for you, from your mother," Aemond spoke first, to break the awkward silence. 

Daenys wordlessly took the letter from his hand, careful to not let their fingers brush even slightly. If she noticed that the letter had already been opened, she didn't say, instead choosing to turn her face away. However, the more she read, the more distressed she seemed to become. Her hands gripped the paper's edge and tears started spilling down her cheeks with renewed vigour. When at last she finished, she dropped the letter, pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms. Soft sobs wracked her frame as she tried to silence the sound of her cries. 

"What’s wrong? What did the letter say? Are you alright!" Aemond reached for her, before thinking better of it and pulling his hands back. 

"It's dated two days ago!" she wailed, by way of explanation.

Aemond's curiosity got the better of him and he picked up the discarded letter. As he read it over, his jaw tensed and a knot formed in the pit of his stomach.

[foursaints]

I have this random ass hc of an au where barty is the pastors son and has like major religious trauma/ guilt because I think it just lends itself so nicely to barty and his dad's "conditional" relationship... I am sick in the head

nah this is so brilliant & inspired you are perhaps the least sick out of all of us… i love the idea of like a calvinist fundamentalist pastor’s son barty that has a startling, hideous LACK of guilt— that quote like “i sensed a potentiality for corruption within me that took my breath away”

preacher’s son barty who does selfish and sacrilegious and occasionally cruel and depraved things whenever he knows no one is watching simply because he’s curious. but you could never tell from the sullen, obedient facade he folds it away underneath. preacher’s son barty who likes to bend evan rosier over the pulpit and play with him after hours in the dark because he knows he can get away with it…. evan with actual religious Guilt who feels damned for Liking it… oh lord

[randomfoggytiger]

Yeah both Scully and Mulder suffer their fair share of traumas but the fact that Scully's (the female character) is so heavily focused on her reproductive system is absolutely misogyny, the fact that it's not malicious/intentional doesn't make that not misogyny, it's the nature of the trauma that makes it misogynistic not the amount of it

Agree to disagree, Anon! :DDD

The villains of the show view women as vessels to be hollowed out for their own nefarious purposes, not the writers-- the distinction is important. And the villains overlooked Scully's capabilities and prowess because of this, relegating her to second place after Mulder and his quest-- not the writers. From the very first episode (written by Chris Carter), Scully was given agency and equal footing with Mulder; and that continued through the series despite the executives and other busybodies trying to make Scully walk behind Mulder or do this or that because of societal expectations still lingering in the 90s.

Misogyny specifically is "hatred of, contempt for, or prejudice against women or girls. It is a form of sexism that can keep women at a lower social status than men, thus maintaining the social roles of patriarchy"; and one could argue Scully's treatment throughout the series might merit that criticism... except the show and its writers stated over and over how wrong, sick, and twisted the villains were for those actions. Moreover, those same villains inflicted trauma and dehumanizing torment on Mulder as well; and his "manhood" didn't prevent him from being used as a pawn in their game as far back as his childhood. It's messed up all around.

Furthermore, I've come across tons of literature and series featuring similar plotlines that were written by women, for women (even in the fringes of this fandom, fics taking place outside of the mytharc storyline.) Is that misogyny or an exploration of the depravity of that cruel and misogynistic mindset perpetuated by evil, twisted men (and women, lest we forget Diana Fowley)?

The problems begin when the writers felt the crunch in S7, trying to think up a way to keep the show going despite all signs leading to a conclusive ending. Thus the pregnancy arc.

Was Scully's pregnancy and motherhood arc inherently out of character? No, I don't believe so-- but as much as it reduced her to a parrot repeating "my baby" every two seconds instead of mothering little William, it also stripped Mulder of any on-screen connection with his son for the majority of S8 and all of S9. Both were robbed-- not because of misogyny (which would have viewed Scully and her personal problems and struggles as lesser than Mulder's) but because BOTH of their personal problems were less important to the writers than the mytharc (well, a few of the writers, anyway.)

It's clunky, lazy writing, that's all. I don't believe the writers have a misogynistic bone in their body; but I do believe that the storylines they pushed through stretched into absurdity because they were not properly set up, paced, fleshed out, or justified. That, however, does not make them misogynistic or bad people.

Those are my thoughts, anyway~. :))))

[sol-consort]

I feel like a threesome with Jack and Miranda would slay. 1. Because they hate each other, but shepard always finds a way to keep them in line 2. When they fight all can hear is that one tiktok sound that's like "fuck it everybody get naked lets see who pussy the best". Like is it so wrong that I want to have a big Normandy gangbang.

P.S. It's crazy that you can't date Jack, Miranda, Tali, or Ashley as femshep because the tension between them and femshep is literally insane.

P.P.S., who are you're mass effect threesome pairings. These are the ones I can think of

1. Garrus and Tali (like Tali literally said she was thought about it all the time 🤨)

2. Thane and Samara (they similar vibes and I feel like it would be crazy hot)

3. Jack and Miranda (obvi)

4. Kaidan and Liara (because when I was playing the first mass effect they were fighting over femshep and in my head I was like omg just have a threesome)

5. Just one big orgy with everyone of the Normandy (idk I just think everyone's hot even Mordin 🤷‍♀️)

That's all I can think of, what do you think?

It is crazy that you can't date Jack!!! That's what I'm saying, especially with her dating women before like damn. First, they took wlw Ashley from us, and now this? Let my femshep get dicked down by a single butch I swear to god—Liara sit your femme ass back down!!

I agree with the tension between Miranda and femshep, I noticed it too. The rebellious laid-back leader and the uptight second in command who's an open spy for cerberus. Each time she invited shep to her room I was like "are we about to makeout sloppy rn?" so many scenes of her staring wishfully at femshep, wondering what would happen if she'd just make a move...how freedom would taste like on her lips.

-

Hmm, for the threesomes you mentioned, Thane and Samara oh my god you're a genius!

Both are brimming with devotion and unbridled yearning. Samara trying to resist you so hard for her oath, you're the greatest temptation she has ever faced. She is genuinely scared she might throw it all away just to find out how your naked body feels like pressed against her in bed.

Thane, who never thought he'd ever love again, who was a dead man when you found him, one foot in the grave. Ready to give up on life and everything. You revived him, you helped him make up with his son, became his sole reason for existence, to fight the sickness and live each day fully.

A threesome with them would burn with the same intensity as a thousand suns. They've both been starved for so long, stealing you from one another at any opportunity, working in unison to experience as much of you as possible in this short fragment of time.

Thane who's overeager for you, to show you how grateful he is for everything you've done. To let his tears run as you bring him to another climax while riding him, how he can't help but marvel at this powerful human atop his thighs.

Samara, who hasn't felt another's touch in centuries, an old asari past the age of passion and love, a matriarch through and through. To her, you're a sweet nectar she's been depraved of, an addiction she's quickly spiralling into. Eating you out with fervor, swallowing all of your cum, demanding more and more.

Thane is too gentle, she's too intense. Samara's too restrainted, he's too passionate. Both worship you in their own ways.

Thane's honeyed words, how even during sex he pours his heart out to you. Direct with his emotions and infatuation, absolutely transparent with his overwhelming adoration for you. Love gets so intense for the drell that it physically pains them.

Samara's is at a loss for words, ashamed of how delicious this sinful act feels. What the first bite of the apple must have felt to eve. Abandoning her oath of celibacy, breaking her convictions for you. Getting more and more rough in bed as she lets her conflicting emotions out by claiming her ownership over you through bitemarks and hickies, prints of her that grip on your thighs.

-

Jack and Miranda 100% Ever since that "Cerberus cheerleader" comment all I could imagine was the visual of the two of them in bed, battling over Shepard's attention.

While Thane and Samara would work together and find a middle ground despite Thane monogamous nature, these two women would absolutely refuse to meet eye to eye. In fact they'll use you to gain leverage over one another, prove that they can fuck you better than the other woman, that you frankly should just kick her out of bed and end this threesome.

...only to end up hate fucking one another by the end with you in the middle.

Fun times!.

-

Kaidan and Liara 👀 I see your vision, especially with that love traingle confrontation scene. Where you suggest just sharing, Liara is cool with the idea but Kaidan gets all huffy offended and leaves.

Because I want him to eat those words, to try and deny how much he actually enjoys sharing you with Liara. Because he is such a good scouts boy, he always tries to do the right thing and remain a true romantic at heart, a tender lover. I want to see him break his own code, to indulge in the most filthy threesome and be shocked by how much he enjoys it.

How much he likes watching you get taken by another person, especially Liara. He was so defencive around the smart asari, intimidated that another nerd beside him weasled their way into your heart.

Lowkey he had a crush on her but was too focused on wooing Shepard to notice it.

-

Sidenote: Mordin IS extremely hot, won't take any objections. It's so fucking hot when he basically tells you to swallow Thane's cum ingame by using medical terms to hint at how Drell's skin and other stuff are stimulatants to the human brain.

How hot would it be if he was this shameless and intrusive with your sex life all the time? like sure yeah he doesn't sleep with you, but he always asks–no demands explicit details about your last sexual experience and with whom, yk, as a part of routine checkup <3 no other reason.

Anyway, I want to spit roasted between James and Ashley. That's my ideal threesome...maybe Ashley and Thane too?

[redundant2]

Excrement approaching fan

A person on Twitter who is claiming to be an attorney is alleging that a certain royal second son who has been melting down in the news for the past few days has done some really, really bad things.

All over the globe. Las Vegas, London, Afghanistan, on military bases. California. Both in the past. And very recently.

There is a consistent pattern. Allegedly, there is a victim who was left permanently physically disabled, and is ready to talk despite an NDA.

Allegedly, this royal second son contacted his family recently after another such episode and asked for their help. They refused. They will not help him cover this up, and allegedly they know this information is about to come out.

Allegedly, this US attorney on Twitter was asked to review the case. He/she claims that the wife has been involved in covering up her husband's actions.

Allegedly, there are terrible, horrifying photos.

There's much more on Twitter and it's not hard to find. I'm in tears. I feel sick to my stomach.

I hope this is all bullshit. I think we're watching a terribly depraved, sociopathic evil person dominate the news, and after reading the excerpts from his book, I would not be surprised.

My God.

[wormswurld]

i just wanna talk abt the movie ma mére again on here & show you (some) of my fave screen caps because that movie quite literally is a rollercoaster of emotions, depraved acts, unique depictions of grief, and overall a commentary on love and it’s differing forms and how it can toe the line of what is deemed “socially acceptable” etc when you are infatuated with someone (who happens to be your mother lol,, spoilers ahead btw!)

- i think louis garrel played the role of pierre perfectlyyyyy like his chemistry with isabelle hupert is so natural ?? like the way their realtionship as mother and son is shown throughout the progression of the movie is such an interesting and incredible sight like truly! in regards to this screen cap you can literally see the boyishness dripping off of pierre as he gazes up at his mother !! he’s so soft looking! just embodying the confused yet desired filled teenage boy trope to the max lol

- absolutely love this still. love it so much. not only does pierre just blend into the filth surrounding him as he grieves the loss of his father he looks so beautiful and content while doing it? i love the messiness. i love the dirty clothes strewn around on the floor. i love the face that he’s wearing red underwear and it immediately draws your attention to the curve of his ass, his thighs, and gangly hair legs.

- next up this sequence of shots from my FAVORITE scene in the entire movie….for context pierre goes out with his mom, her friend, and this cute girl he’s acquainted with and ends up drinking too much he essentially falls asleep in a nearby train station (not too busy but there’s still some passerby’s); okay with that be established can we just look at this ????? like really look at what the fuck is going on????? the pain and desperation on his face as he gets his cock stepped on by the same boots he kisses in the next sequence! his hand placement on the boots as his makes them push down harder!!!! the way he is only stripped down to his shirt, everything else being forcefully taken off of him when he is asleep and unknowing holy fuck. this scene is just perfect. so incredibly perfect. i can go on more and more about it but we have like 2 more screen caps to cover lol.

- *sigh* y’all know and or should know if it isn’t just oozing off of me that i’m a slut for religious imagery & themes… combine that shit with sexuality and depravity and i am so sat! pierre’s make shift cross hes praying to out of the pages of the bible he ripped out, the light casting a warm ray onto his person as he begs for forgiveness and mercy as he grapples with his purely fucked up situation, his hands clasped over his hand as if god is about to punish him and he’s trying to protect himself, the bowing of his head + the clothes that he’s wearing + his legs tucked under his body = beauty in its purest form in my opinion.

- wow. last screen cap and i have so much to say. i love the curve of his spine, the focus on his ass, the soft kiss he’s planting on someone’s knee, his shoulder blades, just how soft and light and airy this shot looks?????????? this image is post-sex gold right here. this image drips non-verbal aftercare, “after everything we have just done i am still here and i am yours.” this shot is so fucking beautiful good god. to quote @priestfrommidnightmass ‘s review of this movie “i fucking Love awful sick entirely morally Wrong dynamics i love blasphemous religious symbolism i love honest and twisted portrayals of sex i love the line of pleasure and violence being blurred…”

[babbiweeb]

my pet-muzan kibutsuji

(anime in gif:garden of words)

tw:themes of manipulation/possessiveness, mentions of murder/blood, human trafficking/prostitution, wedlock

initial tags:pre-established reader background, muzan kibutsuji, female reader, demon slayer:kimetsu no yaiba, human/demon muzan

genre:angst, hurt-no-comfort, almost lovers (it’s really kinda like a what could've been moment)

story playlist:

romantic homicide-d4vd

…baby one more time-the marias

i put a spell on you-annie lennox

evergreen-omar apollo

step on me-the cardigans

authors note:i shamelessly will admit muzan has had such a chokehold on me since s1, swordsmith village just amplified my awakening. i can fix him. proofread? but not really because i go crosseyed :) okiee, talk to you later!

 -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

A man who lurks along shadows, whose name ignites fear, once upon a time had a glimpse of normalcy.

A man who has roamed the Earth for nearly a thousand years has shamelessly tormented the weak, watching them twitch for mercy. His utmost pleasure is taken from such a tease. He is ruthless, vile, disgusting-

Yet, he wasn't always this twisted. Close to a millennium ago, a woman had finally been blessed with the next heir to uphold such prominence. A son is what was needed to continue the strength and leadership of the Kibutsuji name. However, his birth was complicated. Considered to be stillborn, he was doomed from the start. 

Muzan, while alive, regarded as nothing but a mere burden–an illness took hold of his frail body. An illness deemed to be terminal, it would be a sheer miracle if he had lived past the age of 20. 

His family had grown desperate. Desperate to find a cure for their only son. Doctors, researchers, and skeptics all came pouring into the young man's life. He was viewed as a sort of spectacle. His illness brought awe to the eyes of those wanting to further their own knowledge of the human body. The Heian Era was cruel to those with severe ailments. However, if you came from money and high status, you were regarded as top priority. 

It seems history truly never ceases to repeat itself-

__

Heian Period-Year 900

__

The drag of ropes slid past the crowd. Some cruelly stepped on the rope, making the line of women trip on themselves. Whispers of shame falling from the breath of bystanders. It never seems to ease up for the poor. People are incredibly quick to judge, yet will always be the first in line to ask for more. The pleasure of the unknown passion behind closed doors takes over the minds of the depraved, the curious, the sick-

A woman dragging her feet slowly begins to feel dread as they approach a back alley. She is an unfortunate soul, born into the world without a chance of survival. Given away to be sold off in an auction, she is young and the perfect selection to be someone’s pet. Her mother was given a handsome price for someone she deemed a burden. Quiet and timid, she keeps to herself. Alone with her thoughts, she tries to think of better days. 

Standing close to those by her side, she keeps her head low, attempting to lessen the attention drawing near. Crowds of men begin to gather around in secret, the sun being the only thing that illuminates the sin of man. 

One by one, each woman called down to turn around slowly for each buyer. Disgust fills her to the brim as she begins to wander off. Though, with just her eyes. Suddenly, she is rushed, her arm being tugged and gripped tightly as a man clouded by smoke demands her to twirl. Sounds of hushed whimpers escape from her. 

The smell of nicotine and whispers of depravity further shifting her demeanor to one of pure agony. Wanting nothing more than to be saved. Her eyes trail slightly, looking amongst the crowd. Just then, she catches the attention of a certain man and woman. The pair dressed like royalty. She had never seen anyone like them around these parts. Her face is full of awe as her eyes slowly begin to plead for their help. Nothing compelled her to do so, she just felt as if they understood her. Perhaps it was just a simple trick? Her mind constantly full of ideas of being free had finally led her to a state of delusion. 

But maybe…just maybe, fate has another plan. One that will grant her just a temporary moment of blissful freedom. 

__

Y/N-

“So this is where you will be staying. It isn't much, a humble space…but I do believe you will be most comfortable.”-The voice of a woman echoes as I keep close to my body. The rope on my wrists still reminds me of what could've been. 

Humble? Not much? People of status have no true grasp of reality. The room is bigger than anything I’ve ever seen! Entering cautiously, I look to the walls. No cracks, chips, or mold. 

How refreshing-

The futon made, not a single crease in sight. Is this really for me?

“Oh, do not worry! We will get you cleaned and changed before we further discuss your duty! Everything you will need is just in that closet-take your time and please come find me once you’ve finished!”-Her voice is doll-like. Calm, soft, not a single hint of worry or stress. The pale woman approaches as she begins to gently untie the ropes. My freedom solidified as my wrists finally loosen.

The initial shock I felt after they claimed me was overwhelming. I never would have expected such an outcome. However, I will be forever grateful to them-I will fulfill my duty.

“Thank you, Lady Kibutsuji.”

Soon, she excuses herself, sliding the door shut. My senses overstimulate my entire being. My ears catching the sound of the door shutting first as I now have this chance to relish in my new found privacy. The air lifted as I stood alone-and for the first time in a long time, I could breathe. 

__

After taking a well deserved moment of rest, I turned to the closet that remained open. Lightly colored and patterned garments neatly folded as my admiration bubbles to the surface. While not silk, the fabric is similar in texture. Nonetheless, I begin to undress my frame. Pieces of my run down clothing shedding off my body. The dirty linen now to the floor, soon to be forgotten. 

The layers hug my body bringing a sense of comfort as I add more and more to my final look. The pattern of faint and simple blossoms compliment the neutral colors of beige and cream. The frills of my apron added dimension and texture. 

Looking into the compact mirror provided, my hair is lifted by my delicate hands. A pin and clip keeping my loose strains together as they threaten to fall.

“Almost ready-”

My thoughts are interrupted as the sound of a man grows loud. A man and a woman can be heard through the walls. The woman sounds like-

Quickly, I leave my bedroom, sliding open the door, never stopping to close it shut. My legs carry me down the long, naturally lit hall as the voices grow loud and louder-

“I do not need some lousy caretaker-this is an unnecessary purchase that will just go to waste.”-The voice of a man unfamiliar to me settles within me as his words begin to make me wonder. 

“This is necessary, your body is growing weaker by the day. Your father insists on leaving you be. I only agreed to such terms if we got you someone to stay here with you. You need constant supervision. I will not lose my son any sooner-”

Her voice is cracking, a certain emotion of fear and uncertainty. It seems my duty is clear. Rounding the corner, I enter the large gathering room. My presence was recognized within an instant. 

“See? And here she is. And look, what a vision she is-”

Lady Kibutsuji steps closer to me as I keep my eyes forward. The compliment phases me slightly. I’m not used to such words being directed towards me. A vision? Is that really what I am? 

“An ordinary woman of low status is a vision to you? No wonder you were so eager to marry father. Your taste is horrid mother.”

A vision? Clearly not. 

Nonetheless, I will foresee my duty complete. Turning to face the young and clearly frail man, I bow my head slightly. My respect for their family name is growing within me. 

“My name is Y/N, no last name given. It is a pleasure to meet you, I look forward to being of use to you.”-The facade of confidence slowly breaks as I confess my lack of title. No last name, no status. 

“She is born of wedlock? How wonderful mother. I’m sure your sickly son being paired with this failure won't bring any further shame to our name.”

Raising my head slowly, I keep low. 

Well isn't he a peach? 

“I will not tolerate this disrespect. I still raised you to be a man. Now start acting like it.”-The lady of the Estate is completely unamused and serious. It seems her words shot an arrow through his heart. He looked at me for a brief moment before turning to walk back to where we all had entered. His balance is nonexistent as he holds onto every object nearby. His breath is heavy as it seems as if he is stepping on knives with each step. Taking a chance, I walked towards him, my arm extended in a careful manner. Not wanting to hurt him further, my voice sweet like honey.

“Sir, allow me to help you…” 

His scoff is audible and telling. He is unamused by my gesture, as if he’s in any position to deny aid. 

“Do not touch me. As for formality, I am Lord Muzan to you. Leave me be maid.”-His venom spat as chills sent down my spine. Without looking back to me, he struggles along as he attempts to carry some authority. My arms find their place once more as I watch him leave. Soon enough, it’s just me and Lady Kibutsuji. 

“Please forgive me. The lack of parenting shows within my son. However-She pauses to walk by my side. Her hand on my shoulder, her touch desperate-give him time. He is in fact ill. While this is not an excuse, he is growing impatient as the days drag on.”

“My only son was born with an illness that is soon to claim his life. His father has given up entirely…”-Another quick pause before she continues almost breathlessly. 

“All my hope is placed within you to help aid my son. I am unsure of what will become of him within the next year, but please, if it isn't too much to ask-take good care of Muzan.”-Her eyes are full with a familiar look of desperation. The same look I had worn for the better half of my young adult life. 

Pity. That is what comes to mind. Looking at her hand on my shoulder, a simple nod is all she needs from me to know that I am determined to help him. While this has already proved to be a difficult task, he still is just human. 

__

Evening rolls quickly with the pair hesitantly leaving such a beautiful Estate. Lady Kibutsuji had placed her dreams within a young woman who has no prior life experience. To take care of a man who is as stubborn as an ox will be no easy task. However, the overwhelming sense of gratitude shadows over all doubt. She is determined to change his cold heart. Surely, he has one? 

With hands tangled together at her front, she tours the halls. A traditional home, mute with any sense of familial love. Soon, the moon rises to catch the serenity of a peaceful garden. Her eyes follow the glow dancing through the beauty of nature. 

This is more than she ever expected–in fact, she feels almost unworthy. She is unaware of  when they will return, if at all.

“Lord Muzan? Are you…alright?”-Approaching slowly, she maintains a steady pace. Her nerves almost ate her alive as his figure grew. The sigh released from him telling her all she needs to know.

“Who gave you the idea to interrupt my peace? You’ve already become a nuisance and you haven't even been here a full day.”-His words slicing through her confidence, breaking her down further into a hole. 

“L-Lord Muzan, as it stands, I am your aid until I am told otherwise by your mother. So please, I would appreciate even the slightest bit of respect.”

Within an instant, his body stands tall as he turns to face the young woman. The look of the woman to the untrained eye may seem unphased, but deep down he can sense her fear. 

“Respect is earned, not that you would have any semblance of how real people act in proper society-”

As if someone had been watching his utter disrespect, his tongue is cut short as he coughs uncontrollably. The sight is horrid. It’s as if he is close to coughing up his own lung. Though, she is still a nurturing woman–the innate intuition to care is apparent. She is aware of her own tragedy, however, the thought of those having it worse off than her fuels her to remain kind. His body folds as his knees fall to the gravel-

“Lord Muzan-I’ve got you.”

Her arms wrap around him, pulling him up to lean slightly against her body. His coughing rage slows as he attempts to hide the embarrassing fit. Upon instinct, her gentle hand rubs his back, reassuring him that he isn't alone–that he would never be alone again. 

“I may not be someone you respect as a real person. But, I have kept something that you should re-learn. Kindness.”

His vision is slightly blurred as he becomes lightheaded, but she is still clear. He couldn't remain headstrong and upset even if he wanted to. She is correct–though his pride still refuses to falter. However, just this once he will accept her aid. The night will blanket over this slight misstep. 

“What an incessant woman…”

__

Muzan-

“Good morning Lord Muzan. A doctor has arrived, he is waiting for you in the back hall.”

Right. She’s staying. My persistent mother, adamant I am in constant need of supervision. While I don’t entirely blame the woman–no, I do blame the woman. How is it I had lost the race without ever even kicking off? To be born with such status, all to go to waste. They’ve both given up, and blamed me through the process. When it was my mother who failed to nurture a proper son. A cursed womb that would have benefited the world by staying utterly barren. 

An obvious disdain for this annoyance falls from my lips. My fingers trace the spine of what was soon to be my escape. A book meant to further expand my knowledge of medical advances–perhaps later. 

“Very well. Tell him I will meet with him soon. Be gone-”

The sound of her footsteps begin to fade. Never once did I turn to look at her, why should I? She is nothing more than a lowly woman. Unless she holds the cure to this cold heart, she will be of no use to me. 

“See? And here she is. And look, what a vision she is-” 

Vision? As if that means anything to me.

__

“What will become of me if I don’t take this?”-The very sight of such a pathetic doctor brings up an ever growing anger within me. He speaks of postponing my inevitable demise. Time. All time has granted me is a constant reminder of my own misery. Forever trapped in my own flesh that betrays me. I am denied the basic pleasures of life. A cruel world indeed. 

Reluctantly, I take the medicine provided, and soon enough he disappears. Where does he travel to? This doctor has been utterly mysterious. He speaks of an experimental elixir that he had been preparing and giving me in small quantities. Yet, I feel no change. Our family's wealth consistently proves to be wasted. 

Speaking of which– 

__

Y/N-

My smile brightens the man’s gloomy demeanor as I say goodbye to him. The doctor states that he shall return within a week, as well as leaving a brief reminder that he feels confident in Lord Muzan’s treatment. 

Wanting to remain by his side, I quickly make my way to the kitchen and prepare a simple snack. Fruits I pricked fresh in the small garden out back–

A small library found in the home seems to be his most favored spot, and with this knowledge my legs lead me there. I can feel it. Butterflies slowly creep up as my anxiety continues to rise. He’s unpredictable, that much I can confidently say. His attitude is one of a spoiled child. He makes it difficult to remain calm. But, for the sake of the Kibutsuji name, I shall try. 

Rounding the corner of the lifted structure, beams of sunlight bring life to such a mute home. An open concept allows the beauty of nature to come and go as it pleases. 

“Lord Muzan? May I enter?”-My hands at the sides of the tray begin to shake slightly. Curse these weak nerves. 

My eyes found him immediately. He sits along a chaise, pillows behind him bringing him clear comfort. His hair is long, dark, and slightly textured. He is the picture perfect definition of ethereal beauty. For a man of his status and undeniable charm, it would be incredibly simple to find his match. If not for his illness, he would be able to experience what many crave to cherish. 

His eyes meet mine for the very first time–oh what heavy eyes.

“What do you want?”-That harsh tone yet again, although, something seems to be different. His breath skipped, even just a little. Almost as if he was caught off guard by my presence? Pushing my thoughts to the side, I walk towards him cautiously, stopping right by his lounge. Placing the tray on the small table beside him, I smile softly. 

“I brought you something small. You never requested breakfast, nor did I see you pass the kitchen. You must be hungry, Lord Muzan.”

His eyes trail to the tray full of small eats, his finger book marking his book as he leans forward. 

“Very well. Dismissed.”

My head tilts just slightly as I keep my hands to my front. My fingers laced together as I gave myself a quick squeeze of reassurance. Turning only to find an open seat not too far from him, I stationed myself close. My bottom sunk comfortably as I keep myself low. 

“Uh, what do you think you’re doing? I said you are dismissed.”-His voice gains my attention as I look back at him. My face now hot, flushes red. 

“Lord Muzan, with all due respect, I plan to stay nearby at all times. This was a request given by your mother.”

As if I had just described a lewd, and unholy act of offense, he looks at me with widened eyes. His eyebrow twitches slightly–a quirk perhaps? 

“That will not be necessary. My privacy is important to me, so I insist you leave.”-Kicking his feet back up and reopening his book, he attempts to escape back into his own world. A small smirk forms as I continue right behind his words.

“And I insist you need my constant supervision. You are sickly Lord Muzan-”

The hint of spite lingers as my words stick. The air grows thick–his eyes now back on me as he sits still. 

“You dare give lip woman?”-The word “woman” rolls off his tongue as if he had casted a hex. What is it about me that represents a thorn in his back? Clicking my own tongue, my eyes keep direct watch. 

“A woman is not a woman without lip. Can’t you handle the taste of your own medicine My Lord?”

The sting in Muzan’s heart almost ignites a fire, brought on by her wit. He feels as if he’s caught in her web. A spark that he had never felt before. He wouldn't admit it out loud, however, his subconscious enjoys her game. 

An audible scoff heard from the man laying across from me rings through my ears. My sly smirk hidden from him as his gaze watches my eyes. My anxiety at the beginning had diminished, this new confidence was found and fueled by the need to destroy this man’s ego. 

“You must make excellent company, your husband must be over the moon to have such a woman by his side-”

A brief pause allows me to feel the small crack inching down my heart. A shameless low blow that speaks volumes. His darts speak for my loneliness. 

“No matter. If you choose to stay, be sure to remain quiet. That pretty voice should be saved for your caring husband.”-His voice, malicious and cocky. Is it his goal to drag those around him down? Does he derive pleasure from pain? 

His attention back to his book, an obvious smirk runs along his lips-

“At least I have a shot at love-”

__

Muzan-

I win. 

Quiet. Just as it should be while in my presence–if only my repeated thoughts of finally being cured would leave me be. This doctor seems rather enthusiastic about his research. He hasn't shared much with me, leaving my thoughts to run rampant. It’s troublesome really. 

Turning the page with my delicately fragile fingers, I catch a quick glimpse of her. My eyes almost instinctively traced her lips. She’s completely distracted by the walls lined with shelves. If something were to happen to me now, surely she wouldn't even realize the second I hit the floor.

“You know you read books, not gawk at them.” 

The look on her face reads something of a nervous delight. Her eyes light up as she pays me no mind. She’s seemingly interested in reading–though quickly, her demeanor shatters. She’s hesitant, that much is clear. 

“I-I understand that much. I just…I can’t read much Lord Muzan”-She does nothing to hide such an embarrassing confession. Is this the truth? She truly doesn't know how to read? How preposterous! 

“What? How is it you can not read? Women are allowed that much.”-I scoff. 

“Forgive my ignorance, Lord Muzan. I was not blessed to live sheltered like you. No one gave me the time of day.”-Her voice trails as her attention focuses slowly back to me. Her gaze followed my every facial expression, my every word. 

Sheltered? Me? My blood boils as I feel a sense of anger slowly wash over me. I hold my tongue as I look at her. All my life, I had no choice but to be this way. Doomed from the start…but her? She had the chance to change. Or at least…that’s what I would do. For just a moment, I catch her eyes, trap them with mine. Holding my gaze, she softens entirely, encapsulating the definition of grace and poise. The anger felt just seconds prior diminishes with one simple look. With her look. Her eyes almost plead with mine, silently begging me to hold my words. After a few seconds more, I finally break contact–my head shaking side to side. 

Reluctantly, I begin-”Go choose a book that sparks an interest.”

Without hesitation, she gets up from her spot and immediately starts to look through the many pieces of literature. It’s as if she had forgotten about our little battle of wit. The exchange proved to be entertaining to me, it proved to her how headstrong and cocky I truly can be. Yet, she seems to be completely carefree, only focused on my request. Obedient. Even if just for herself. 

Soon, she pulls a small and skinny hard cover. I know exactly the one–

“Give it here-”

Once more, without a sense of faltering, she makes her way to me. Her nervousness is transparent, as if she’s terrified of my bite. I drop my legs slowly from the long soft cushion, gently planting my feet to the floor. 

“I-I can make out some words here. This isn’t entirely foreign to me thankfully.”-With sheer grace, she drops to my side, sitting close enough to feel our warmth collide. This is comforting. 

“Well, start where you can…”-In a hushed tone, I continue quietly. “I can help you when I can. Only when I’m not busy with my own book.”

I had to reassure her, right? All for her to understand that I won't be there at all times to hold her hand. This is simply a small favor that I chose to offer in hopes this pitiful woman can learn something. To be early into adulthood, and not know how to read full text? How shameful. 

She snaps to turn and face me, her eyes wide and full of surprise. She really is transparent. Her words almost fail her until I pick up on a faint-

“Thank you.”

Returning to my world, I hide myself slightly within the pages. 

“What a naive woman…”

__

They continued on within a surprisingly comfortable silence, though she still feels uneasy. She doesn't want to be a bother to him, regardless of his harsh outer shell. He catches her unsteady demeanor, jealous of how simple she is. His eyes follow her finger as she traces the thin pages, meanwhile his heart begins to soften. A new, strange feeling that has made itself known subtly. 

Each pronunciation of these foreign words lifts from the pages and rolls of her tongue gently. A cautious, timid soul. Shifting slightly, he takes hold of her book, grazing her soft skin along the way. This was done almost on purpose, just as an excuse to feel some semblance of intimacy. But to admit this would prove to be weak. 

Shocked and shy, she turns her gaze up towards him. Only him. Her attention is direct and eager as her innocent eyes fill with the willingness to learn. The pleasant twist that forms just below the hearts of two entirely different souls now becomes hard to ignore. An unexpected warmth that proves weakness to one, and to the other–

A fondness that wraps her within a desirable warmth. 

__

“T-Thank you Lord Muzan…for teaching me.”-Her voice echos with pure gratitude. Never once had she been blessed with kindness that went beyond a simple “how are you?”. 

Tch–”It’s nothing. I pity those who can’t help themselves. So consider this your push to do better woman.”-His feet raised once more unto the chaise. His body utterly melts into the cushion–completely devoid of his remark. 

“How can you be so sure of yourself that people less than you haven't tried all they can to be better?”-The sheer amount of wit almost catches him off guard. For someone so disadvantaged, she sure does have an enchanting mind. Something he has come to pleasantly enjoy. 

Her question tantalizes him. How can he be sure? Simple. He can’t. This mindset stems from pure arrogance. The faith he has in humanity had diminished years ago. He cares not for those around him, why should he? The illness had taken over and ripped away the innocence, warping him into something close to a line of monstrosity. 

“Lord Muzan, if I may, my heart breaks for you.”

With that, the young woman excuses herself from him. The eerie silence sets as he is left. Yet another reminder that he is truly alone. 

__

Muzan-

Waiting patiently, time moves slowly as I go blank. Her heart breaks for…me? What could she mean by such a thing? Why does her heart supposedly break for me? I never asked for such a thing, nor would I. I do not need the pity of some sorry excuse of a woman. 

My chest rises up and down at a quickened pace, my breath becoming heavy as my anxiety levels. Looking up to the awning, the edge of traditional wood had always brought comfort. The clean cut edges of such beauty begin to blur. My eyes feel as if they are crossing–I need help. I need her, now. My throat closed as I attempted to call out to her. Her name fading from me as soon enough, I succumbed to the darkness. 

If there is a god, he would allow me this final sweet release. 

__

Coming to, my body regains each of my senses one by one. My body laid flat upon a made futon. The bedding is thick, granting me a sense of security. Slowly, my fingers twitch against the warmth. My ears had perked at the sound of draining water, little droplets reaching my exposed skin. 

“I know you’re awake, you can open your eyes now”-Reluctantly, I open my eyes. The dim light of candles gives my eyes relief. Blinking just a few times, the blurred vision subsides as I am met with a face all too familiar. The moon hung low, casting a soft and silver glow over her. Her gentle hands hard at work as they tighten, wringing out water from a small cloth into a small bowl. 

“How are you feeling?”-The lack of formality rings through as she speaks. Her eyes focused on me. My mouth is dry, as is my throat. My words fail me, so I simply nod my head, keeping my watchful eye on her. 

Wringing out the water one last time, she neatly folds the small cloth and places the damp piece on my forehead. The cool sensation immediately alleviated my aching lobe. This small gesture is enough to strain my gaze. Closing my eyes for just a moment, her body shifts–soon I’m being lifted gently. The rim of porcelain reaches my mouth as liquid flows down. 

“I contacted an emergency doctor by letter. He took quite a while reaching back to us with any form of information. I was afraid I had lost you for good.”

My orbs reopened and immediately found hers. Desperately drinking what I can, my eyebrows furrow into confusion. Why would she be afraid? Wouldn't this grant her access away from me? Isn’t this something she would want? To be free? 

“Your primary doctor won't arrive until early next week, until then, you are to take it easy and rest well. The stress may be getting to you, so do not strain yourself further. Allow me to do my job and help you.”-The cries of pleas are no longer hidden. It seems I have inched my way closer to her more than she would ever admit. Why?

Finding my voice, I begin-

“I-I see…very well. I must ask, w-what made you think about coming back?”

“I never meant to leave you for long. I simply needed a break. I felt our conversation would lead nowhere and that it would be best for us both if I had excused myself.”-As she leans back slightly, I am granted a full view of her body. Her frame utterly breathtaking under the faint aglow of candlelight and rays of silver. Her face softened with worry and concern. 

“When I came back, you were on the floor, sprawled out and holding your own throat. The sight was horrific. All I thought to do was get you to your room quickly and reopen your airway. You leaned against me limp as I walked you back to your bedroom. The rest became history, you are up now and that’s what matters.”

My eyes widened as she continued her retelling of events. She did this for me, without a hint of hesitation. A strong willed woman indeed. 

“I see. Well, I suppose I should…express my gratitude, or something?”-Keeping my gaze on her, I am able to catch a sly smile that formed upon her plump lips. Not quite a smirk, and not quite malicious. 

“Lord Muzan, are you trying to say…thank you?”-Her voice lingers as a giggle leaves her.

Embarrassed, my face grows warm once again-

“Don't push it Y/N. You did your job successfully. That’s all there is to it”

And there it is. That wonderfully wicked smirk she wears so well. With one final look of admiration, I close my eyes, hiding my sudden new found gratitude. The sound of her leaving my side followed by a hushed snicker warms my cheeks. As she blows out my candles, right before leaving, I whisper–

“Thank you Y/N.”

“You’re welcome, Lord Muzan.”-After a pregnant pause, the brief silence is interrupted by her final words and the sliding of my door. I hate to admit it, but the warmth in my cheeks could not distract me from the fact that for the first time in forever, a smile had grown. 

“What a cheeky woman.”

__

Y/N-

“What do you mean still not ready? You pathetic excuse of a doctor-”

Lord Muzan’s voice echoes through the halls of the estate. He is angry. Very angry. Last night's events run through my mind–the brief glimpse of potential kindness shattered now as my body trembles. My hands grip the soft fabric that drapes to my side. Sitting just outside the screen, I am a victim to the wraith of his abusive nature. 

“I no longer have time. My body grows weak by each passing day. I can barely walk, let alone sit without my limbs going utterly stiff. This elixir is a joke, much like your practice.”

An elixir? Yes, that’s correct! The doctor had mentioned such a remedy during his last visit. He appeared confident in his research, however, said confidence proves to be less than dirt to him. From my understanding, Lord Muzan had been taking this experimental medicine for weeks–

“I’ve taken your stupid drug–now get out! Out of my sight before I lose my temper completely!”-This wasn't him at his peak? There is more hidden to his anger? Surely not. 

Footsteps come and go as the sound passes by me. Distracted and dazed, my body lifts itself all on its own. 

“Lord Muzan, if I may enter.”-The unsteady hum in my voice gives me away completely as I turn from the screen to look at him. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead and down his sculpted face. Even in such a state, my eyes could never fool me–

His breath is heavy and unhinged. The anger that exudes from him is palpable, like a rabid beast. He is capable of so much more, that much is clear to me now. Regardless of my fear, I approach cautiously, my delicate hand reaching out for him. Soon, the cloth in hand collects his essence. His heat would be almost intoxicating if the circumstances were different. 

Without looking up at me, his mouth moves-

“What have you Y/N? Do you think I’m worth my salt? Why is it that I live such a pitiful life?”-His voice almost begs me for some kind of reassurance, low whimpers falling from his lips. His fist to his own chest, clutching the fabrics of his simple yukata. 

“Lord Muzan, the cards were never set up in your favor, that much is true. However, you are alive today despite it all. There is still a chance while you still breathe.”

He doesn't believe me. An audible scoff and expression of defeat is more than enough to leave a lingering sting to my heart. The same heart that is too big for my own good–

In a moment of sheer weakness, I take hold of his hand, bringing him close to me. His palm firmly planted against my heartbeat. Shocked and curious, his eyes finally met mine. His mouth agape as if he truly wanted to scold me for such behavior, and yet–he welcomes the change.

“Your heart beat is just like mine. Your lungs inhale and exhale the air we share. Your senses all grant you the same sensations I feel. We are no different–your illness does not define you. Your illness only hinders you if you choose to let it drown your mind.”

The air grows thin as time seemingly slows, all we have is each other. We sit across from one another, his hand trembles ever so slightly against my chest as he looks into my eyes. His gaze turns into a stare as his shock continues to build. Left almost speechless, his low mutters become my only indication that he is still with me. 

“W-Why must you have faith in me? Why must you make this difficult?”

“Lord Muzan, everyone deserves a chance to better themselves. The only one stopping you from doing so, is you. If you want something, you make it your reality.”-The road to one's betterment is no easy task. No one gets it right the first time. Old habits resurface, anger prevails, people test you. But for him, his eyes shine with a newfound spark. An epiphany-

“You are…absolutely correct! I will make my desire a reality. My illness will not prevail.”-Surprisingly giddy with excitement, it isn't enough to hide something brewing. There’s a hint of something almost sickening behind his voice. However, as quickly as my body warned me, my naivety in turn diminished such a red flag. 

His hand travels down for a short detour. His fingers graze the slit in between my supple mounds. The tease of his gentle touch sent shivers down my spine. And within an instant, time had pressed on as it did before. No longer stuck in the moment with him–

__

Muzan-

What a woman-

How could I be so blind? She left me utterly speechless. Her caring nature brings me a sense of confidence I had never felt before. I feel as if I can do anything with her by my side. I must keep her close–

“Y/N! I thank you for such reassurance! Please, leave me for the time being! I have some matters to attend to! My thoughts must be sorted.”-Without another word, she follows my order. Excusing herself gracefully from my view. 

Slowly, a familiar curve creeps onto my lips. The excitement builds as an uncontrollable laugh fills my own ears. This is too easy. Too simple–

I will have all I want, this illness will no longer define my life. I am deserving of greatness, if not me? Then who? Who is worthy of such confidence, such power. 

It’s all coming together perfectly. Soon, I will become more than a mere weakling. No one shall ever ignore me again. 

__

Nightfall crept suddenly, as light had vanished from the world. Not a sound had left the chambers of Lord Muzan throughout the day. Worrisome, Y/N had done what she could in order to stay nearby without disturbing his work. She wondered about him, and his odd behavior. He changed so suddenly, his eagerness created an all too recognizable feeling of dread. She knew what this was, but she kept denying such doubts. Even the stars above couldn't calm her nerves. Though, the moon watches over her and her own prayers. The glow of silver shining down upon such an immaculate beauty. It was as if there had been an unannounced competition between the goddess of the moon and the maiden below. Her beauty was witnessed by more than just the serene sky. His presence is quiet as he walks down the garden steps and onto the stone path. While in pain, he chooses to ignore for the time being, wanting to just be close to her. 

“A beautiful night? Isn't it?”-My voice rings through her as she jumps out of her own skin. Startled, she brings a warmth to me as she reacts to my emergence. 

“L-Lord Muzan! You’re up!”-She attempts to sit up, but before long, I lift my hand up hinting that she remains seated. 

“Please, do not worry yourself with me tonight. All I ask from you is to join you for a bit of company.”-For the third time since we met, I smile. Each foreign move of my muscle is all due to her. 

“Y-Yes, of course Lord Muzan!”-She scoots to the edge of the small stone bench, giving me space to join her. With no time wasted, I sit next to her, already feeling our warmth dancing.The cool breeze flows as the trees and brush rustle alongside it. 

“I truly must thank you Y/N. A new found clarity fills my mind and soul. I feel alive-”

“I did nothing really! Although, I must say, you do seem rather lively. Perhaps the elixir-”

“That doctor had nothing to do with this. He is incompetent and will soon be discarded.”-Rudely and swiftly, I cut her off before she can mention such a quack. Our peace must not be disrupted by unnecessary noise. 

“R-Right, yes! My apologies! I just mean to say that you are much better.”-Her stutter never fades as I catch her nervousness. Her hands interwoven as they rested on her lap. 

“You’re quite alright Y/N! As I mentioned, he won’t be a problem soon enough.”-A wave of confidence helps fuel my boldness. Keeping my watchful gaze on her makes me grow impatient. Shifting my body towards her, I lean in closely–

“You are all I need to help aid this sickness-”

Whispers alluding to sweet nothings leave my mouth. Actions beat me to the punch as my hand trails her exposed skin. Starting from her wrist, my fingers trace up her arm. My nails grazed across her faint goosebumps.

“I was a fool to immediately discard you as just another woman. You are much more–aren't you Y/N?”

It was now her turn to grow speechless, though her body language speaks to me. Her skin so supple, so soft-

“You’ve proven to be someone worthy of my praise. You’ve proven to be of use to me. A delicate petal just begging to be plucked. You crave attention, don't you…my pet?”-The sounds of whimpers escape from her luscious lips. Desperate to feel more of such a rose, my fingers crawl behind her exposed neck. Her hair creates an opening of soft skin. Untouched, pure skin. Closing the space between us, her protests are nonexistent as I continue to conquer such a goddess. My breath is hot against her cold skin, licking my lips my eyes fill slowly with undeniable lust. 

“Tell me…”-A brief pause teases her ears as I whisper into her neck. My lips tugging along her sensitive skin-

“Do you wish to serve me? To aid me?”

My lips press together as I leave gentle, yet needy kisses along her neck. Her whimpers only grow as I tug at the hair locked in between my long, slender fingers.

“Answer me”

“Y-Yes”-Obedient. I expect nothing less. 

“Yes? You will? What…my pet?”-Full control is what I have, her body melting under my touch. Pulling her hair back gently, I give myself more to claim. Her scent is intoxicating as I save this sweetness to memory. Never to forget such delectable treat-

“I wish to serve you, Lord Muzan.”-The whisper of seduction. 

A primal instinct possesses my body as a part of her soul is given up to me so easily. My lips are sloppy and quick in bringing utter pleasure to us both. Completely undone, my lips meet hers, never once stopping to think of the consequences. The emotional vulnerability sent me down a spiral. Her soft moans pour into my mouth as her desire fills me to the brim. Our breath grows hot and heavy. The only break we give one another is that of whenever our lips switch positions. Neither of us wanted to give up the heated battle of pure passion. 

My hand that once held the back of her neck now meets her plump and warm cheek. The other slowly meets the other. Her body remains stiff as I caress her with the growing facade of something loving. 

My sweet, sweet pet. Oh how you’ve fallen. 

__

Y/N-

My body has awoken before even my mind. Tossing and turning under the covers of security, a beam of warm light tickles my face. The warmth triggers the events of last night to replay in my mind. His touch still stains my cheeks, forever tainting my memory. 

Morning light pours into my sensitive eyes as I slowly open them. A sigh of relief and complete embarrassment escapes my lips. The woman I became during the evening hours was that of shame. To indulge in the dance of sinful passion with someone meant to be taken care of is nothing less than degrading. 

And yet…here I am, tracing the lines of my lips. My fingers teasing the edges of my delicate skin. 

I liked it. 

__

The Estate eerily resembles that of a ghost town. Not that I am too keen on seeing him this morning, the shadow of worry still lingers. Calling out for him as I walk through each room, I still find no trace of his presence. Perhaps further in? 

“Lord Muzan? Are you awake–”

The smell of iron fills my nose, it’s faint but definitely still noticeable. Curious and against my better judgment, I keep my pace. The sound of wood panels creaking every now and again. Soon enough, the sound of wood falters and is now replaced with a squelching. Reluctantly, I look down at my feet, and to my horror-

Blood. Blood seeps through the floor, flowing from underneath the shoji. My breath caught in my throat as I refused to make a single sound. 

Cautiously, I reach for the screen, careful to not step in the ever growing puddle of fresh blood. Sliding through the screen, I come to bear witness to a man stabbed in the back laying motionless. As if all rational thought left me in an instant, my scream becomes loud, desperate, and fearful. 

My eyes widen at the sight of such gore. However, nothing could be compared to my pure terror as my eyes trail to meet his gaze. His stone cold gaze. He remained seated, unphased and unbothered by the scene. Working quickly, and piecing together the events that had transpired, I once again lose myself-

Dizzy and hazed, my disgust is no longer hidden. 

“You k-killed him…didn't you? This was your doing!”

My voice trembles as I look directly at him, waiting for the slightest bit of humanity to show. Please, tell me it isn't so, this couldn't be! My eyes sting as tears begin to form across my waterline. 

“Good. You’ve finally come to me-”

His voice was cold, more so than typical. This time, his voice sends pure chills to my body. I hold my own sides as I watch him get up without struggle, his walk towards me steady. As he reaches me, I grow stiff as his hand firmly grips my shoulder. He leans in swiftly and whispers into the shell of my ear. 

“Clean this up.”-Just as he came, he left without time wasted. The tears once threatened to pour, now stream down my face. The overwhelming stir of emotions breaking me down to a pathetic mess. 

I want nothing more than to be far, far away from him.

__

Streaks of blood that had stained the wood run across the floor. The smell of death never leaving her nose, forever ingrained in her memory. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't get the image of dragging his limp body out of her mind. The sound of his skin sliding against the wood will prove enough to haunt her dreams. No matter how many times she washes her body, she will never truly rid herself of the filth. Her mind, body, and soul forever tormented in her own personal prison. 

She needed to leave, to get away. But what good would that do? She could never be free, her fate solidified within these walls. All she has is the simple peace found within her own chambers. Sleep takes hold of the emotionally drained. 

Even so, her slumber was interrupted by the sudden sharp chill of a cool breeze. The night pours into her four walls–and what would usually bring her peace, this night instead brings in the dreaded unknown. The days prior of feeling an unsettling wave of uncertainty now haunts her. Always the naive woman to seemingly follow her heart before her own gut. And now look, he stalks her with watchful eyes. Plum red beads that stare into her soul, seeing more than he ever could. Her heartbeat accelerates due to the uneasy tension growing in the thick air. 

Nothing could ever stop him now. The confidence he felt by her side would never compare the pure power he feels coursing through his veins. The power to do as he pleases, whenever he pleases. The world is yet to see true torture, and he will begin his reign with her by his side. She has no choice.

“My pet…”

 -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

authors end note:wow wow wubzi. yeah i don't foresee myself sticking to a writing schedule. writing fics are hard, but then again, i really just do it to ease my brain rot and make my moots happi! so in turn, i happi! this one however, is going on the mAke A pArt TwO list. i’m so delulu. i want to pick this up with y/n becoming a demon by force and eventually running away with my second wife, lady tamayo (the goat). i am so down bad for so many kny characters bro. it’s impressive how many i can fit in my heart. anyways, as per usual, i hope you enjoyed the read! teehe! talk soon, k? :)

word count:8348

many thank! -babbi₊˚⊹♡

-08/18/23

[itsmalachitenow]

PLEASE talk to me about Azalin, I want to hear every word of your take on him.

ANON, I AM SO HAPPY YOU ASKED ME THAT! I don't have a COMPLETE picture yet since I haven't read every single ravenloft supplement and novel, but I think I've read enough to put together a picture of what this man would be like in a relationship.

WARNING, I talk about his sex life and what his kinks are under the readmore. Another content warning for unhealthy relationship dynamics. Proceed with caution!

SO. Azalin Rex. Darklord of Darkon. Before we really get started, let's establish one thing.

From what I've seen, the only canonical time we see Azalin go out of his way for a sexual relationship is when he wanted a son. It wasn't out of love or lust, it was to secure an heir to Knurl.

A lot of people speculate that Azalin is aroace, and I can totally see that.

HOWEVER.

I also think, at the same time, he's a massive fucking pervert who gets off on other things.

Alt Text: "Azalin encourages his subjects to debase themselves as a method of societal control and to soothe his battered ego. He throws depraved, seasonal masquerades for the nobility to flaunt his superiority; he toys with his servants' allegiances, seeing how far they will sink to curry his favor. Azalin has honed torment to an art form."

This is an excerpt from one of the Ravenloft source books, and I think it perfectly illustrates what I'm talking about.

The biggest turn-on for Azalin Rex is power over others.

He doesn't join in the debauchery, he observes it. He sits back, gets comfortable, and watches people debase themselves. He tests people and sees how far they'll push themselves before they break. All because they want to please him and want his praise.

I think Azalin loves that. I think he loves having that power over so many people, and that he can have near-complete control over anyone he wants.

Hell, even in the questionable book Tower of Doom, where we see Azalin seduce one of his Kargat officers, it still plays into the dynamic we've established. He knows sex is a highly motivating reward. A high value treat, if you will. She did a good job, and sexual contact is particularly motivating for a lot of people, especially when it's with someone you would do anything to please.

The fact that close-contact sex with Azalin is apparently necrotic and her flesh starts to rot afterwards is another point. Azalin will cure the necrosis and restore her body when she returns, but only if she finishes the job he dispatched her to do. She is effectively on a time limit now, frantically trying to do what was asked of her so she doesn't die horribly.

Now, to be fair, I don't consider Tower of Doom to be canon. But it fits my hypothesis of Azalin's biggest kink being utter domination over others.

So what does that mean for a romantic relationship?

I think any relationship with Azalin Rex is going to be unhealthy at its core. He's a manipulative bastard who likes to watch how far people will go to please him. And it's not going to be a 'traditional' relationship--like I said, we never see him express any sort of interest in one in any of the canon supplements. A relationship with Azalin is going to be because he thinks it would be beneficial to him in some way, even if he is fond of the other person.

If he's still ruling over Darkon, I can see him taking someone as a partner if only because he's sick of his sycophantic court trying to throw their daughters at him in marriage. Very much an exasperated "You'll do" sentiment where it's more out of convenience than sexual attraction.

Even if he actually really likes the person he's with, he's still going to be subjugating them to his will, and that's just something that comes with the territory. Fundamentally, I think Azalin Rex is incapable of respecting anyone as an equal, and that's going to impact all of his interactions with people, romantic relationships included.

[djservo]

beat you to it once again... oopsie! early, even! JUNE: what did you read, what did you think? what's next in your summer reading, cas? i want to know it all

not only was I not first but I'm also days late to this too, a girl can't win! </3

I read 5 which is kinda silly & perhaps proves the theory of me reading more when I travel - something about a full schedule that just makes me go Ahhhh yes perfect time to read ! I made a lil visual of the 5 bc for some reason my goodreads isn't showing the dennis cooper covers + I really loved the cover art

Closer by Dennis Cooper

my first Cooper, I feel initiated!! read this in one sitting on a flight, I couldn't possibly put it down - truly the book form of a car crash you can't look away from, a Camus/Bresson/Araki vibe with Disaffected / Cynical Youths In Situations™ feel. one of those books where it's not so much about the prose or character developments but moreso the emotional journey/damage (lol) the events put you thru?? I read it on my kindle and was still paranoid someone would catch a glimpse of my screen during the particularly depraved scenes, it's such a rush to read sick twisted books like this in public <3

Frisk by Dennis Cooper

read this on a beach day with friends and it trulyyy hit the spot, like will 4real recommend this as a beach read if anyone asks LOL with Closer still fresh on my mind I was less shocked by the depravity, less taken back with the extent of how graphic things got, and was able to focus more on the characters and storyline itself. realllyyyy really loved it, the theme of obsession and unraveling it to its foundational moments came across so cohesively + the unreliable narrator was written so convincingly. I read in a review that while Cooper was writing sex scenes, if anything turned him on, he would rewrite it LOL I love that so much - COMMIT TO THE SICK BIT, TRULY! a testament to writing sick things not equaling glorifying/romanticizing said sick things (which should go without say but yknow). also Loved the movie adaptation of this - it's been on my radar 5ever and I'm so glad I read it first bc the gritty artistic direction(s) felt that much more justified to me

The Carnivorous Lamb by Agustín Gómez-Arcos

3 fictions in a row omg are you proud?? this was soooooo beyond what I expected, so gripping. it reminded me a little bit of Call Me By Your Name at times (ironically not even just bc of the taboo relationships) with its hazy idyllic summerlike prose and ambience, but this one's definitely way meatier with its themes and intent. incest/queerness/family dysfunction as metaphor/consequence/response to a dictatorship, the aftermath of war, the disintegration of a country as you once know it. so punchy and direct but also delicate and wide-eyed at times, I really really enjoyed it more than I expected to. was very surprised to find out that it seems to be a hit with Supernatural fans (particularly the subsection that ships the 2 brothers together), stripping context from the flowerier lines for the purpose of singling out the incest....like ummm!! that's certainly One way to interpret a book so tangled with Franco's dictatorship but ok go off?!!

Pornotopia by Paul Preciado

ooooooo so much fun. the playboy mansion as disneyland for grown men, as a surveillance state, as dante's 9 levels of hell, as women's prison. The Girls Next Door was my first introduction to Playboy and I used to be so fascinated with the idea of people living this way, like you're telling me these hot young women are CHOOSING to live with this frail hag in a robe??? so it was cool to unravel the mystique of the mansion/company/Institution of Playboy to its bare, ideological + architectural bones. to follow, I read this profile piece on Hefner's eldest son's experience growing up in/around the mansion - what a trip!

How Do I Look? Queer Film and Video by Bad Object-Choices

I'm almost positive I read one of the essays (Looking For My Penis by Richard Fung) in college already bc I had a sense of deja vu the whole time, but generally this felt really familiar! conversations/discussions I've had in school, movies I've watched and the analyses that followed. this collection is essentially a bunch of transcribed presentations/talks at a conference followed by a discussion with fellow queer/film theorists/academics, so there was so much dimension to every topic which I appreciated! rly loved that they didn't hold back in the discussions, kind of scandalizing to see some theorists poke holes at the presenter's talk + you can Feel the tension that was in the room without even being there. I think I'd pee my pants in that position

I turn 25 in August and had idealized getting all my #EssentialAdult reading in the time leading up to the (alleged) Final Forming Of Thy Brain, finally dip my toes in some Joan Didion or some city woman grown-up wisdom, all that jazz. I'm kinda on a fiction kick though?? I've already finished 2 books this month (1 fiction, 1 memoir) I'll talk about later + am like halfway thru the 3rd George Miles Cycle book by Cooper (Closer + Frisk are part of a 5-book series, though mostly unrelated as far as characters go). I've got another fiction I have planned, but otherwise I do think I'm in desperate need of a woman's literary touch LOL so perhaps I will get on the Road-to-25 plan after all

[cordylinerubra]

My original character - Nimvel Ran ("High God of Blood" - in general, "ran" personifies the human body through blood), and his humanization version Khortse Ran - is my thoughts on the topic, what would happen if a real Jesus appeared in the modern world, what would believers do with them, and how would Nimvel Ran shows the depravity of religion as an institution, all the hypocrisy, and he was tortured and indoctrinated by his own believers to take on a more human form and a new identity called Khortse Ran, under which he passionately believed in Nimvel Run, that is, himself. It was said about Nimvel himself that he is a very cruel god, but Khortse is one of the kindest creatures, and from which he concludes that all these legends were simply denigration of the good god because of his frightening appearance. Also in captivity, Nimvel Ran gave birth to a child from himself named Se, or Seika, who turned out to be very sick due to this method of conception, and his religious community forced him to play not the role of his son Khortse under the name Sereytse, but his father. Se had black hair and green eyes, unlike his parent, because Nimvel was touched that a certain Khetse sincerely wanted to save him and free him, but he didn’t succeed, he was killed, and Seika looks like Khetse. Why does the father turn out to be the son? In the name of the fucking plot twists that I love so much)