#plot against Jeremiah

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Jeremiah and the Potter’s House

1 The word which came to Jeremiah from the Lord, saying,

2 Up! go down to the potter's house, and there I will let my words come to your ears.

3 Then I went down to the potter's house, and he was doing his work on the stones.

4 And when the vessel, which he was forming out of earth, got damaged in the hand of the potter, he made it again into another vessel, as it seemed good to the potter to make it.

5 Then the word of the Lord came to me, saying,

6 O Israel, am I not able to do with you as this potter does? says the Lord. See, like earth in the potter's hand are you in my hands, O Israel.

7 Whenever I say anything about uprooting a nation or a kingdom, and smashing it and sending destruction on it;

8 If, in that very minute, that nation of which I was talking is turned away from its evil, my purpose of doing evil to them will be changed.

9 And whenever I say anything about building up a nation or a kingdom, and planting it;

10 If, in that very minute, it does evil in my eyes, going against my orders, then my good purpose, which I said I would do for them, will be changed.

11 Now, then, say to the men of Judah and to the people of Jerusalem, This is what the Lord has said: See, I am forming an evil thing against you, and designing a design against you: let every man come back now from his evil way, and let your ways and your doings be changed for the better.

12 But they will say, There is no hope: we will go on in our designs, and every one of us will do what he is moved by the pride of his evil heart to do.

13 So this is what the Lord has said: Make search among the nations and see who has had word of such things; the virgin of Israel has done a very shocking thing.

14 Will the white snow go away from the top of Sirion? will the cold waters flowing from the mountains become dry?

15 For my people have put me out of their memory, burning perfumes to that which is nothing; and because of this, I will put a cause of falling in their ways, even in the old roads, and will make them go on side-roads, in a way not lifted up;

16 Making their land a thing of wonder, causing sounds of surprise for ever; everyone who goes by will be overcome with wonder, shaking his head.

17 I will send them in flight, as from an east wind, before the attacker; I will let them see my back and not my face on the day of their downfall.

18 Then they said, Come, let us make a design against Jeremiah; for teaching will never be cut off from the priest, or wisdom from the wise, or the word from the prophet. Come, let us make use of his words for an attack on him, and let us give attention with care to what he says.

19 Give thought to me, O Lord, and give ear to the voice of those who put forward a cause against me.

20 Is evil to be the reward of good? for they have made a deep hole for my soul. Keep in mind how I took my place before you, to say a good word for them so that your wrath might be turned away from them.

21 For this cause, let their children be without food, and give them over to the power of the sword; and let their wives be without children and become widows; let their men be overtaken by death, and their young men be put to the sword in the fight.

22 Let a cry for help go up from their houses, when you send an armed band on them suddenly: for they have made a hole in which to take me, and have put nets for my feet secretly.

23 But you, Lord, have knowledge of all the designs which they have made against my life; let not their evil-doing be covered or their sin be washed away from before your eyes: but let it be a cause of falling before you: so do to them in the time of your wrath. — Jeremiah 18 | Bible in Basic English (BBE) The Bible in Basic English is in the public domain. Cross References: Genesis 6:6; Leviticus 26:32; Deuteronomy 29:19; 1 Samuel 2:30; 1 Samuel 13:13; 1 Samuel 15:33; 1 Samuel 19:4; 1 Kings 9:8; 2 Kings 17:13; Nehemiah 4:5; Job 5:13; Job 27:21; Psalm 35:7; Psalm 48:7; Psalm 52:2; Psalm 59:5; Psalm 63:10; Psalm 106:45; Psalm 119:85; Psalm 140:5; Isaiah 29:16; Isaiah 57:10; Isaiah 57:14; Isaiah 62:10; Isaiah 66:8; Jeremiah 1:10; Jeremiah 2:10-11; Jeremiah 7:3; Jeremiah 19:1-2; Jeremiah 31:28; Lamentations 3:59; Amos 9:11; Matthew 20:15; Acts 26:20; Romans 9:20-21

[macrolit]

The 100 Best Books of the 21st Century.

As voted on by 503 novelists, nonfiction writers, poets, critics and other book lovers — with a little help from the staff of The New York Times Book Review.

NYT Article.

*************

Q: How many of the 100 have you read? Q: Which ones did you love/hate? Q: What's missing?

Here's the full list.

100. Tree of Smoke, Denis Johnson 99. How to Be Both, Ali Smith 98. Bel Canto, Ann Patchett 97. Men We Reaped, Jesmyn Ward 96. Wayward Lives, Beautiful Experiments, Saidiya Hartman 95. Bring Up the Bodies, Hilary Mantel 94. On Beauty, Zadie Smith 93. Station Eleven, Emily St. John Mandel 92. The Days of Abandonment, Elena Ferrante 91. The Human Stain, Philip Roth 90. The Sympathizer, Viet Thanh Nguyen 89. The Return, Hisham Matar 88. The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis 87. Detransition, Baby, Torrey Peters 86. Frederick Douglass, David W. Blight 85. Pastoralia, George Saunders 84. The Emperor of All Maladies, Siddhartha Mukherjee 83. When We Cease to Understand the World, Benjamin Labutat 82. Hurricane Season, Fernanda Melchor 81. Pulphead, John Jeremiah Sullivan 80. The Story of the Lost Child, Elena Ferrante 79. A Manual for Cleaning Women, Lucia Berlin 78. Septology, Jon Fosse 77. An American Marriage, Tayari Jones 76. Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, Gabrielle Zevin 75. Exit West, Mohsin Hamid 74. Olive Kitteridge, Elizabeth Strout 73. The Passage of Power, Robert Caro 72. Secondhand Time, Svetlana Alexievich 71. The Copenhagen Trilogy, Tove Ditlevsen 70. All Aunt Hagar's Children, Edward P. Jones 69. The New Jim Crow, Michelle Alexander 68. The Friend, Sigrid Nunez 67. Far From the Tree, Andrew Solomon 66. We the Animals, Justin Torres 65. The Plot Against America, Philip Roth 64. The Great Believers, Rebecca Makkai 63. Veronica, Mary Gaitskill 62. 10:04, Ben Lerner 61. Demon Copperhead, Barbara Kingsolver 60. Heavy, Kiese Laymon 59. Middlesex, Jeffrey Eugenides 58. Stay True, Hua Hsu 57. Nickel and Dimed, Barbara Ehrenreich 56. The Flamethrowers, Rachel Kushner 55. The Looming Tower, Lawrence Wright 54. Tenth of December, George Saunders 53. Runaway, Alice Munro 52. Train Dreams, Denis Johnson 51. Life After Life, Kate Atkinson 50. Trust, Hernan Diaz 49. The Vegetarian, Han Kang 48. Persepolis, Marjane Satrapi 47. A Mercy, Toni Morrison 46. The Goldfinch, Donna Tartt 45. The Argonauts, Maggie Nelson 44. The Fifth Season, N.K. Jemisin 43. Postwar, Tony Judt 42. A Brief History of Seven Killings, Marlon James 41. Small Things Like These, Claire Keegan 40. H Is for Hawk, Helen Macdonald 39. A Visit from the Goon Squad, Jennifer Egan 38. The Savage Detectives, Roberto Balano 37. The Years, Annie Ernaux 36. Between the World and Me, Ta-Nehisi Coates 35. Fun Home, Alison Bechdel 34. Citizen, Claudia Rankine 33. Salvage the Bones, Jesmyn Ward 32. The Lines of Beauty, Alan Hollinghurst 31. White Teeth, Zadie Smith 30. Sing, Unburied, Sing, Jesmyn Ward 29. The Last Samurai, Helen DeWitt 28. Cloud Atlas, David Mitchell 27. Americanah, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie 26. Atonement, Ian McEwan 25. Random Family, Adrian Nicole LeBlanc 24. The Overstory, Richard Powers 23. Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage, Alice Munro 22. Behind the Beautiful Forevers, Katherine Boo 21. Evicted, Matthew Desmond 20. Erasure, Percival Everett 19. Say Nothing, Patrick Radden Keefe 18. Lincoln in the Bardo, George Saunders 17. The Sellout, Paul Beatty 16. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, Michael Chabon 15. Pachinko, Min Jin Lee 14. Outline, Rachel Cusk 13. The Road, Cormac McCarthy 12. The Year of Magical Thinking, Joan Didion 11. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Diaz 10. Gilead, Marilynne Robinson 9. Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro 8. Austerlitz, W.G. Sebald 7. The Underground Railroad, Colson Whitehead 6. 2666, Roberto Bolano 5. The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen 4. The Known World, Edward P. Jones 3. Wolf Hall, Hilary Mantel 2. The Warmth of Other Suns, Isabel Wilkerson 1. My Brilliant Friend, Elena Ferrante

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑹𝒆𝒅 𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (without plot), dom!xavier (and a very sub!reader), slight power dynamics, nothing too extreme but xavier is a little mean here, slight themes of possession and jealousy (ft. jeremiah mention like... once), sensory play (blindfold), light bondage, biting, marking, teasing, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, heavy petting, nipple play, clit play, fingering, rough sex, vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, dirty talk, praise, use of pet name "angel". lmk if i missed any tags! ((unedited!))

wc : 4.1k (...yeah... of pure filth actually...)

an : as usual, very self-indulgent on the part of yours truly !! inspired by "red lights" (and yes, as always, listening to the song adds to the vibes) and our very beloved "no restraint" trailer, but it doesn't actually reference the pv so this is entirely separate <3

taglist : @spotted-salamander @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valvinny @rafayelsheart @star-anons-blog @hunters-association (SIGN UP HERE)

"Focus on me, angel."

Quiet words against your skin.

Your chest heaved, breathing heavy, wrists bound tightly together against the bedpost—his fingers grazed over your cheek in that moment, and the touch was familiar. It was soothing, almost. Like a soft caress that the two of you would often share together, it had your head tilting towards him, leaning into his touch as much as you could help it.

He had you right where he wanted you.

You had no choice but to focus on him.

Just... not in the way that you would have expected to.

Your wrists tugged slightly at the ribbons that restricted you, a small whimper falling from your lips.

You couldn't see.

Every touch against your skin had you jolting, every trail of his fingers on your jawline, down your neck, over your shoulders... All of it felt so heightened. Your vision was shrouded in darkness. The silk that covered your eyes was bound tightly, not a semblance of light could have creeped in from the room that had already been dim from the start. He had you lost in a swirl of the unknown.

And it had been this way for hours on end.

His fingers pulled out of your cunt with a wet schlick, your body writhing as you let out yet another cry.

But he wasn't listening to you.

Instead, he sighed.

"I said," he murmured—and you flinched at the sudden feeling of his breath against the shell of your ear—"focus on me."

His voice dropped an octave lower as he completed his statement, and it was unfair.

"I-I am!" you protested. "It's too much, Xavier, I-I can't... I can't keep holding it, please I just—!"

"Shhh."

The mattress shifted beneath you. His warm hands slid across your bare skin, his body warm next to yours—slow, intentional, precise movements, thumbs digging into your flesh in what could have been considered a sort of massage. It was enough to ease you out of the orgasm you'd almost had, the coil in your stomach loosening as you felt every beat and every flutter of your pussy so wantonly.

And then you felt his head dip down.

In an instant, his lips attached to your neck—

"I know, angel, I know. I have you. Just focus on how it feels."

But you were feeling too much.

Too much, all at once, for all this time, and yet—

It was so hard to resist him.

He knew that.

And it was nearly by instinct how your head tilted, allowing him more access, allowing yourself to feel the way his lips would curl into a little, self-satisfied smile. You didn't need to see him to know it was there; you didn't need to see him to know how it looked like. You knew him well enough.

And you were melting at it.

Gradually he began to explore the rest of your body with featherlight touches, as if to soothe the way he'd been edging you endlessly over the past several minutes. He ghosted over your skin with the tips of his fingers, enough to have goosebumps prickling in their wake; his hands moved up to cup your breasts, inching closer to where he knew you needed him most, but still—only barely touching.

And then you barely had a chance to react, before his teeth sunk into the nape of your neck. The sudden action, a sensation intensified by having your sight so cruelly taken away from you, had you arching your back with a moan.

In the next second his thumbs rubbed over your nipples as he suckled at your skin to leave an array of bruises, a deep chuckle reverberating against you. Slow, rhythmic circles, lithe fingers taking your nub and finding pride in the way they would stiffen and peak under his touch...

You knew that he was watching you.

You knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

And you knew why he was being like this. Relentless teasing, always enough to bring you to the precipice but never allowing you to topple over it... Now, he was taking it slow again, but you were sensitive enough to be reacting to everything.

"Xavier...." you whimpered. Slowly, his hand trailed down over your stomach to rest over your thigh.

"Yes?" he murmured.

A shiver went down your spine at the raspiness in his voice.

"You want me here again?"

He spread your legs without waiting for you to answer, a finger trailing upwards and nearly excruciatingly close—only to trace gentle, feathery shapes into your inner thigh.

You groaned.

"Xavier.... Please! Please just touch me—"

"But I am touching you."

You knew that he was smiling.

"Not like that! Do it... Don't do it so gently! Don't tease me! Stop playing with me!"

He hummed, and his hand inched even closer. You could feel the heat radiating off of the mere proximity, your walls clenching around virtually nothing, your breath hitching with anticipation.

But it never came.

"...I don't know."

You were nearly appalled at how genuinely nonchalant he sounded.

"You know what you've been doing to me all day. Teasing me like that... then giving all that attention to Jeremiah when you should have been looking at me."

"I-I didn't mean to! You know he's only just a friend, you know that I—nngh—!"

He leaned in to pull at your earlobe, taking it between his teeth before letting out a soft laugh at the way your body seemed to squirm in response.

"But... That doesn't change anything. Next time don't talk to him like that when you're wearing such a short skirt." A soft blow against your ear, and he made it clear that he was enjoying the goosebumps that littered over your skin as a result. "Besides... I thought you were too sensitive, since you've been reacting to everything so much. Now, you want... more? You're so greedy..."

You could nearly cry.

You felt his other hand squeeze at your breast to make a point, and you felt him shift ever so slightly—

"You're all sloppy, angel. You've made such a mess. I can see it, how wet you are..."

A pause.

"...Mm. You want me to touch you there, right? Feel my fingers inside you again? You must be really warm, still..."

Again your wrists tugged at your restraints, your eyes squeezed tightly shut against the blindfold. Your heart beat so loudly in your chest that you couldn't dream to listen over it for his movements—his words felt so simultaneously innocent as they were dirty, and the calm in his voice did nothing to soften its effects.

You couldn't take it anymore.

"Xavier, please!" you begged. And whether intentional or not, you found yourself lifting your hips, pushing against him. It was enough for you to feel the slightest graze of his fingers against your cunt, nearly driving you insane with the way he curled his hand into a fist and have you coat his knuckles in your juices.

Then he let out a hum, and you knew what that meant.

He was watching you.

And he was fascinated.

"Do you like that?" he questioned aloud, and it almost pained you how full of wonder his voice seemed to be. "You really are so sensitive."

Your next moans were swallowed into a kiss as his hand remained placed between your legs, stationary at the perfect distance for you to grind against him. The other continued to knead at your breasts, occasionally pausing to roam over your skin, and he murmured—

"Pretty. You're so pretty when you're needy like this."

You couldn't see him, but you could have sworn that the smirk that was likely on his face was anything but innocent.

Yet, his hands drew away from you, and he laughed.

"Xavier!" you cried out. Your hips lifted, as if to chase that same sensation, your clit throbbing with a need that could have had you thrashing around had you not been tied into place.

"Shhhhh, shhh. Relax... Just relax."

A kiss over your blindfold, this time, had you placated enough to swallow your pleas into what felt to be a choked stob. His lips traced over your eyelids, to the tip of your nose, to your lips once more. And then his kisses began to trail further south. Down your neck, through the valley of your breasts, over the skin of your stomach and past your navel—

Only to stop.

And then he began, again, to kiss upwards.

By the time he'd reached your lips once more, your breath was shaky and erratic, the corners of his mouth turned up in another smile you knew to be one of satisfaction.

Now, the scent of his shampoo, the scent of his skin was heedy in the air, mixing in with your own arousal. The room smelled of lust and desire, and these were the only other grounding sensory details you could latch onto as your head continued to spin. Because he truly, truly had you under his complete control. He could have you bending and writhing under his touch without a second thought, the reins of your pleasure embedded into his every being.

"Xavier.... Xavier, please," you cried. You'd lost count of the number of times his name had fallen from your lips out of sheer desperation. "Please, I'm so empty! I need... I need you, I need something—"

A sharp gasp fell from your lips, effectively cutting you off.

"Something, like... This?"

A single breathless whisper against your ear, before you felt him prod at your entrance and slid slowly, slowly back inside you.

"So, so warm."

His voice was a soothing lull, almost an irony to the way that he was treating you.

All the while, wet noises followed every movement of his fingers as he fucked you slowly—gathering your creamy slick when he pulled out, only to plunge right in with a little hum of wonder that had you keening. Easily, he had your hips bucking into his palm. Your back arched; it was an instinctive reaction to follow the movements of his hand as if you were merely a puppet of his desires—every pump of his finger had you moaning unabashedly, only a slave to the lust that he'd awakened in you.

And with the silk around your eyes still fastened in its place, the darkness surrounding your vision made even the tiniest things feel all the more pleasurable.

You could feel how long and slender his fingers were, reaching so deep inside of you, curling against your sweet spot. You could feel the stretch of your pussy with the scissor of his fingers, a stretch so delicious that the burn of it went straight to your head to have your eyes rolling back.

And it felt so good.

...But as always, he would be so. Excruciatingly. Deliberate.

His ministrations brought you a pleasure so indescribable, yet it wasn't quite enough.

You knew what he was doing. He would bring you back into a patten you'd become familiar with: you would be speared on his fingers relentlessly, at a pace so frustratingly lacking, creaming over his fingers without quite bringing you over the edge.

"Xavier!"

Yet another choked sob to fall from your lips. More tears pricked at your eyes, too, though he would have likely been unaware given the fabric concealing that was concealing them. "Please... Please, faster! Please... I need to cum!"

It was like a trigger.

Immediately at your words, his thumb brushed lightly over your clit before he pulled away, and he shook his head. "I'm sorry, angel... I don't want to let you."

The sudden momentary stimulation against your clit had your vision going hazy. You thrashed around desperately as another cry tore fron your lungs, your legs squeezing together tightly— the throbbing in your cunt was becoming absolutely unbearable.

You were so close.

You were so close.

It was slipping away.

"No!" you cried. "Nngh, no, no, please! Please, Xavier! I've been so good for you! Please, please, you have to—I have to—"

This time his other hand moved to tangle into your hair, and he placed another chaste kiss over your lips.

"But... Have you been good? When you've teased me all day? You know... Just now, you've also been begging nonstop, even if I keep telling you not to. I don't know if I should be calling you good."

A pause, and a whimper on your end.

"...But you're pretty. I can give you that."

Another kiss, and another, and another, as your orgasm slowly faded away and you were rendered a panting mess beneath him.

But he wasn't done.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks when he opened you up again, fingers delicately tracing your folds, the stimulation enough to make you jump. This time, you didn't have to say anything before his fingers were back inside you, fucking your cunt, squelching noises resounding in the room with how he would plug your hole full with every thrust.

It was humiliating, almost.

All you could do was focus—on the sensation, on the sound, on the way he would whisper soft, loving words into your ears as if he weren't completely ruining you for him in this moment.

"So wet n'messy..."

Your walls fluttered around him, clenching on his fingers—

He clicked his tongue.

"Ah-ah, angel... Again? So soon?"

You heard him sigh as his fingers slipped away from you once more, and your entire body jerked with desperation.

"Xavier!!!" Your chest felt suffocating, sobs of his name falling from your lips. "Xavier! Xavier, why! Why do you keep—Why won't you let me finish!! Xavier, please!!!"

Your wrists felt numb with pain as you struggled against your restraints, and you knew that your face was wet with tears. The blindfold was drenched; you could only keep your eyes squeezed shut, sniffling helplessly.

It was gone again.

You ached; your breathing wild and heavy. You didn't know what to do. He had you utterly ruined.

"You know why, angel. Should I do it again until you understand?" he whispered. His lips fluttered against yours, teasing a kiss.

He wouldn't even give that to you anymore.

"No!" you sobbed. "No more... Xavier, no more! Please... Please, please just make me cum! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I—I won't do it again—"

His fingers glided over your lips this time, and it was almost pathetic how easily your mouth opened in response. The tangy taste of your slick was unmistakable. He slid his fingers into your mouth for you to taste more.

This way, you couldn't speak properly.

There would be no other way to convey your desire, if not to thrash around and have him watch.

Another hum. "I think... Not."

And he would keep doing it.

Your cunt was red and swollen to the point of overstimulation. Your vision blurred; your head felt fuzzy. You were tired.

Every touch, even the slightest brush against your skin—against your clit—had you gasping. You were too hyperaware of everything he was doing. Worse, again, was the fact that you couldn't know of what else he would do to you—couldn't anticipate it.

Another tap against your nub, a pressure enough to flick it slightly, before snaking your hand up your waist to soothe you with another gentle caress.

You were sobbing.

"Mean!" you weeped, "You're so mean, Xavier! So cruel! I can't—I can't anymore! You have to make me cum... You have to!"

It hurt.

It stung.

And you felt him sigh, so used to your pleas at this moment that you wondered if he had gotten so desensitized to them by now.

"So I'm harsh, and cruel?" There was a teasing lilt to the calm of his voice this time, and you choked out a gasp as you felt the tip of his cock press tip against you.

He shifted, and the blindfold was slipped off of your face. Wet with your tears, he discarded the cloth carelessly around his room, and finally, finally, you were able to see him.

The room was dim, but the blue in his eyes remained striking—always an ocean you could drown in, willingly.

Only tonight, that wasn't what he wanted from you.

His hand found its way to your chin, and he tilted it downwards. Just a little, you felt—saw—the tip of his cock press into you.

"Do you want this?" he murmured. He kept your gaze in place, pressing in a little deeper still. But you were aware at how his gaze never strayed away from you. Observing. Attentive. "You feel empty, right, angel? You want me inside you? Maybe I've been too mean to you... I'm sorry... Next time, you shouldn't tease me too much..."

You let out a slow breath.

"Please."

Your voice was shaky.

And he leaned in, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze again before his lips met your cheek. In a flutter of movements he kissed your tears away, hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Watch," he said.

His voice was soft, but it was something like a command.

"Watch. And no take-backs."

You didn't have time to react, then.

Once more your gaze was directed towards your pussy, throbbing with a need for attention—and your eyes went wide.

He thrust inside you without a second of warning. The entrance was sudden—unexpected. Filling. Any words you'd been thinking to speak fell immediately to a shocked silence, your mouth falling open in a noiseless moan. And all at once, you were made entirely aware of the stretch of your walls, the length of his cock a slow, frustrating slide until the numbnessmelted away enough for you to feel full.

His weight shifted.

You felt caged between his arms, his breath hitting directly above you, legs slotted between yours. There was space for you to wrap your legs around his waist, and you did—

And he started off slow.

Low grunts as his hips rolled against yours, a thrust so fluid and deep that your figure pressed deeper into the mattress. You groaned in response when he repeated the motions; pulling out only to thrust all the way back in, the slap of his skin against yours a testament.

"Not empty..." he rasped. "Not empty 'nymore. I'm filling you up... So warm and pretty for me, all for me..."

His words made your head spin, but despite the desperation laced into his tone, he refused to pick up the pace. You whined, your hips raising to meet his thrusts as if trying to coax a faster pace, but he didn't listen. Instead, he clicked his tongue—with a mewl on your end, he pinned your hips to the bed, preventing you from moving.

"Xavier!" you protested immediately, feeble attempts to wrestle free from him.

"No."

A harsher tone, as he grinded against you to elicit another choked sob.

"But whyyy! I thought you—you said you—"

You threw your head back at a particularly deep thrust, and again his hand was back on your chin.

"I'll set the pace. Don't move, angel. Or I'll pull out."

Xavier usually wasn't like this.

You couldn't quite tell if he was enjoying your torture, or if he was simply this upset over everything that had happened, but the ache you had all over your body right down to the throbbing of your cunt was too, too much for you to bear.

The way his hair fell over his face, his eyes narrowed, eyebrow arched almost menacingly—it brought tears to your eyes once more, and all you wanted to hear from him was another word of reassurance.

For a moment, his eyes softened.

"Don't cry... Don't cry anymore..." He leaned in to nuzzle against your nose, before pressing his lips to yours in a light, gentle kiss. "What do you want, angel? You want me to go harder?"

Feebly, you nodded. At a sharp thrust of his hips, you drew in a sharp breath.

"Like that?"

Another nod.

And this time, he smiled—and it was genuine.

"Okay. Then stay still and let me. You can do that for me, right, angel?"

His hips began to move again, and you were relieved to feel the slight reprieve he was granting you by slowly picking up the pace. Yet again your gaze found the outline of your cunt, zeroing in almost immediately on the way his cock sunk into you and disappeared eagerly into your dripping folds.

He was right.

You were an absolute mess, if the sloppy sounds of sex weren't enough to prove it. The sheets were stained so clearly with your arousal, and the truth was that you didn't quite need him to be rougher with you. Just the mere sensation of being filled up, the friction of his shaft against your gummy walls, was enough to have you arching your back to meet his thrusts.

"Close!" you cried out, desperately rutting against him. "M'close, Xavi, please, please— Let me...!" You saw the smirk on his face, the way his eyes narrowed. Part of you had to wonder if he would pull away again—

But he didn't.

Instead, his hips moved faster, drilling into you in a pace so relentless that your eyes grew wide with shock.

In fact, he didn't stop at all.

He'd haphazardly reached out to yank you free from your bounds, but when you finally reached your peak, it was a crash that had you reeling. A scream of his name and curling of your toes were barely enough to describe it—your vision had gone white, your body fixed into a tremble that almost seemed not to stop. It didn't matter that you had just spilled onto his length, clenching around him with every loud cry that tore from your chest. You were raw, and sore, and used—but that was no longer any of his concern.

He kept his thrusts up.

He would drive you into the mattress, every movement made to slam his hips into yours harder, faster, skin slapping against skin so loudly that the sound of it near-challenged the unintelligible moans that spilled from your lips.

It was torture.

Yet it was so good.

"Ye- es!" you cried out. "Yes, ye—aaanh— y-yes—! Like that! Like tha—hnn—! Xavi— Xavier—!"

You couldn't help but have your eyes roll back into your head, allowing him to grip your waist and steady himself, giving himself the leverage to fuck into you deeper, to stretch you out so deliciously good. He kept your thighs spread apart, nails digging into your skin—and you were so sensitive. Over, and over... he would ram his cock into you and have you filled to the brim with him, never once giving you a second of rest.

And it was everything to watch him lose control just as easily because of that.

"Yeah... Yeah? Like this, angel? Mmh... Taking me so... s-so—hnng— so well, angel, l-look at you..."

Gasps and groans fell uncontrolled from his lips, a mixture between deep rumbles and a more high-pitched whine when you clenched around him just right.

"More... more," he shuddered. "Can't... can't stop, angel, you're so good, I need—need you—No one, haah, no one gets to fuck you like this, all pretty for me to use—"

Clumps of hair stuck to his forehead, skin sheen with sweat. His eyes held a haze of desire you could only ever see from him when he got like this, and it was all barely enough to keep your sanity from tipping over.

You were withering.

His hand moved down to rub against your clit, and the intensity of all of it had your vision going completely blank.

You could barely register anything anymore.

He would pull orgasm after orgasm out from you and you would lose count of it, only vaguely registering the hot stream of white that dripped out of you with how full you were.

"Xavier..."

Your voice was weak and raspy, your hands wrapping around him to pull him into you, against you—anything.

And he groaned against your neck.

"Angel.... one more, please, just— One more. You can give me 'nother. I know you can. Just, nngh—let me fill you up one more time... Gotta mark you all mi— mine— mine—"

He clamored to sink his teeth into your shoulder. Immediately you clawed at his back, a strangled cry of his name leaving your mouth... and he caved.

Yet you knew that this was far from over.

"Mmmhfffuck—! S-so tight, so—ah—!"

The last thing you registered was the desperate shut of his eyes, the near-frozen parting of his lips, and the string of curses formulated into his own moan of raw, unfiltered pleasure.

He was just as long gone as you were.

"Oh, angel... M'not— Not done with you yet at all..."

⁺₊ / an: guys i literally cannot stop thinking about him

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[jammysworks]

could u pls do more with jere !!!

smut after the cut

18+ MDNI

warnings: oral (fem receiving), language, slight manhandling, spit, hair grabbing, fingering, porn without plot, overstimulation

word count: 0.5k

jeremiah has always loved receiving head, but he can’t seem to get over how much he loves the look on your face when you cum on his tongue. your eyes rolling into the back of your skull, while you make grabby hands at his hair attempting to stabilize yourself. for him, he was shocked that such a simple act as licking your clit could do this to you, but for yourself it was out worldly how experienced he was.

the way he would drag his tongue down your slit, dipping the muscle into your hole and spreading the wetness in circles around your clit drove you straight into an orgasm every time. before, he would eat you out to prep you for his cock, but as time went on he became more and more obsessed with it. spending hours between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man, fingers pushing in and out of your cunt and holding you still to prevent you from squirming away from his touch.

…

you were now approaching your fourth orgasm of the night, your hands interlocking with jeremiah’s hair, pulling at the blonde curls. your moans turning into whimpers and hiccups as you sobbed about it being “too much”. his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking at the bud while his fingers pumped into your hole. your release bursting as his tongue flicked in fast motions against your spread pussy lips. “jere i can’t no mo—oh my godd—no more it feels too good!” you squealed, hands reaching and pushing at his shoulders attempting to get him off of you but it was no use.

his ministry only began to intensify as you cried and squirmed. the only abstinence of relief you got being the few seconds he spent retracting himself from your pussy and spitting onto your clit, beginning to trace the area of your cunt with his tongue before diving back in.

tears formed in your eyes and leaked down your cheeks as you gripped onto his biceps pushing against them but you were so deep into the sex high faze that you didn’t have enough strength to shove him off. his arms wrapped themselves around your thighs to keep you steady while he sat up on his knees and pulled your hips along with, continuing his assault on your overused pussy. your head falling back against his sheets, moans growing quieter as your body gets used to the overwhelming pleasure. sadly, your relief was short lived as your orgasm began to arrive even harder than before. your whines having zero effect on jeremiah while he licked at your cunt, fingers digging even deeper than before. “i know, baby, i know. i got you.” the words taking effect as you came in his mouth. his tongue slurping up everything you gave him until he finally decided you had had enough and pulled away from your swollen clit.

[frost-queen]

Always mine (Reader x Jeremiah Valeska)

Requested by: anon , Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 , @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers  , @merlieve   , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly  ,@denkisclown , @wildieflower  ,@meyocoko    , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl  , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampthing07   , @melsunshine @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat ,@rosecentury,@imagines-by-her,@evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303   ,@avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

Summary: Jeremiah and you were an item before all went down. Now with his new insanity he kidnaps you. Expecting you to adjust to the life he wants with you. Demanding all sorts of things from you. At first you try with every might to escape him or fight back. Till you finally give up. Initiating affection from time to time as your old love for him has never fully died. When Jeremiah grows sick, he fears you will finally out your plot against him, only for him to be surprised there is no plot against him. [Yandere style]

Sirens wailed loud. Common business in Gotham so it didn’t really fazed you anymore. Sitting by the window, you watched as the sky coloured flashing red and blue a few blocks away. Probably another robbery or rivalry thing between gangs. Sighing soft, you got up to finish preparing yourself. As you were putting on your shoes, your phone light up. Taking it from the small round table near you, you noticed an unknown number had send you a text.

Finger hovering over the screen, you weren’t sure whether you should read it or delete it immediately. The decision was made for you as a new text popped up. This time it was from the man you were seeing. I’m outside. It said making you forget about the other text. Getting up to hasten yourself downstairs. As said, he was standing outside, leaning against his car. You walked up to him. His hand found a way on your lower back as he gave you a kiss against your cheek.

“You look lovely darling.” – he said removing himself from the car to open the door. – “The streets will probably be blocked.” – you told him seeing him furrow his brows. Pointing up ahead where the red and blue lights were still ghosting the sky.

“It’s not that far.” – you went on, offering for a walk. He sighed deep shutting the door. – “Whatever the lady requires.” – he replied teasingly, taking your hand. The two of you started walking as you held onto his arm. He moved his arm up to check the time. – “The ceremony opens in 30 minutes.” – he informed you, lowering his arm again. You nodded turning into another street with him. You came to a stop, looking both ways to cross.

Both of you crossed the street, heading into another street. You shivered a bit, not expecting it to be such a cool night. He stopped with a heavy sigh. Confused you watched him take of his jacket, to place it over your shoulders. – “I told you to dress warmly.” – he spoke taking your hand again. – “It would’ve ruined the look I was going for.” – you answered hearing him chuckle loud.

He led you into a different street, knowing you’d be close now. You were smiling up to him, leaning closer to his arm. He came to a stop as it made your smile falter, looking in front of you what made him stop. A man had appeared in front of you in the deserted street.

He sighed loud, removing his hand out of his pocket. – “Out of the way goon, we don’t have time for this.” – he called out. The man remained stationed, not moving in inch. You had a feeling he was looking at you, but it was hard to tell in this darkness. It was as if on his face fell a shadow. A bit of white giving off against the darkness under the moonlight on his face. – “Just give him some money.” – you whispered to your boyfriend. Knowing most criminals just wanted money here in Gotham. – “Like hell I am!” – your boyfriend replied, pulling his arm away so that your grip was off it.

“You ignored my text.” – the man suddenly spoke as somewhere his voice seemed familiar. – “What text?” – your boyfriend shouted, slowly losing his patience. – “I was talking to her.” – you saw the person point his finger at you. – “Me? What text?” – you said suddenly remembering the text from an unknown number. You quickly searched for your phone in your purse.

Your boyfriend looking over your shoulder along with you. – “You never changed your number…” – the man spoke making you look slightly shocked back at him. – “How… how did you get my number?” – you asked curious. The man stumbled back, having grabbed firm for his heart with a pained sound.

“You wound me Y/n that you didn’t keep my number.” – he spoke as you noticed two more men join his side. Something cliqued as your eyes widened. The man stepped from out of the shadow, more into the light of the streetlamp. – “Jeremiah.” – you slipped out in shock. – “In the flesh.” – he answered taking a bow. It took you a while to understand his change. It had been so long since you’d seen him, but underneath all that white it was truly his face. – “Alright, I’ve had enough.” – your boyfriend said having lost his patience. He grabbed your hand firm, wanting to leave as the ceremony was in 10 minutes.

Jeremiah pulled out a gun, shooting at your boyfriend. Blood splatters flashed across your face as you felt the muscles in his hand lose strength. With a loud thud he fell back. Face obliterated by the bullet. Jeremiah smiling wickedly. – “Oh come on darling, he was too annoying anyways.” – Jeremiah called out as you could only stare at the body. Shaking, you slowly tore your gaze away from him to Jeremiah. – “Come here Y/n.” – he said.

You staid still, frozen to the ground as your mind kept screaming at you to run. Jeremiah took a deep breath, pointing his gun at you. – “Don’t make me shoot you too darling.” – he called out with a warning. With his other hand, he waved your over. You slowly got in motion not sure what else to do. Dragging your feet, too much in shock to go any faster. Jeremiah lowered his gun once you were near. With his gloved thumb, he brushed against your cheek, smearing the blood splatters open on your face. His eyes then fell on the jacket over your shoulder.

“We don’t need this.” – he grunted out, throwing the jacket of your shoulders onto the ground. His sudden act of force made you jump out of your skin. He gave you a smile before grabbing you by your arm, spinning you around up against his chest. Gasping soft, you felt the tip of his gun against your stomach. – “Now walk darling.” – he whispered in your ear. With a little shove of him, you got in motion. Not sure where you were going.

The two other men disappeared as you figured they were just around to intimidate. You got pushed into a building. Going up the stairs till he shoved you into a room. You stumbled to the ground, falling. Jeremiah shut the door, pressing some numbers in the panel by the door. There was a clicking sound as you knew the door was shut tight. You got startled when he forced your purse out of your hand.

Only taking out your phone as he threw the purse on the ground. He started going through your phone, saving his number. Then he looked at the rest of your contacts. – “Delete, delete, delete.” – he kept repeating getting rid of all your other contacts. Certainly those of any males. – “You… you killed him.” – you said hearing him sigh loud.

 “Don’t tell you are whining over him.” – Jeremiah answered giving you a glance. He kept deleting all your contacts till he was done. He tossed your phone back at you as it landed on your lap. – “You have me now.” – Jeremiah came kneeling down before you. – “We were done Jeremiah!” – you reminded him. – “Your fear of Jerome finding you, is what caused our ruin.” – you let out with a pant. Jeremiah grabbed your chin with force, making you breath out a gasp. His gaze fierce, till it softened. – “All in the past now… We are starting over again.” – he said letting go of you. He got back up.

“You kidnapped me!” – you shouted. He ignored your comment, taking out a list from his pocket. – “I have a list of demands from you.” – he said unfolding the list as it rolled open. Reaching down till his knees. He cleared his throat dramatically. – “I expect to always eat together. Dates, conversations, a kiss on the cheek when I demand it.” – he began as you scoffed loud. – “You’re joking right?” – you called out.

Jeremiah turned to you. – “I assure you I’m not Y/n.” he replied with a teasing smile. – “I demand of you to hold yourself to it.” – he finished, rolling the list back up. He offered you the scroll as you had no interest in taking it. Jeremiah tilted his head with a sigh of annoyance. He took out his gun, pointing at you.

You quickly took the scroll from him as he lifted the gun back up. – “Good girl.” – he said patronizing. – “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.” – he spoke scratching the back of his head with the gun. – “Diner will be in ten minutes.” – he ended leaving for the kitchen. You got up, keeping an eye on him. Jeremiah was humming whilst standing in the kitchen with his back to you. You heard the chopping of a knife as you slowly backed away. Turning around to run into a room. Your eyes fell immediately on the window. Rushing over to it, you started pulling at it to shove upwards.

Yet it wouldn’t budge. Fazed, you tried again and again as to why it would not budge. – “Trying to escape?” – his voice made you gasp loud, startled you spun around, back hitting against the window from jumping back. Jeremiah was leaning against the doorframe. Shaking his head. – “I expected better from you Y/n.” – he said with a heavy sigh. – “Let me go Jeremiah!” – you screamed. – “You better clean that face of yours before diner.” – was the only thing he said before returning to the kitchen. Uneasy, you left the room, coming back into the open living space. – “Bathroom is over there.” – Jeremiah pointed out from in the kitchen.

You made your way over, heading inside. This time you shut the door. Panting loud, you grabbed for the sink. Lifting your head up to see yourself. The blood splattered across as it made your eyes swell up. Lowering your head, you started crying. Opening the faucet, you let the water flow. Catching it in your hand to wash your face. Between the tears, you splashed water over your face, smearing the blood out with water. Taking the towel, you sobbed loud into it before rubbing it down your face. Pulling yourself together, you prepared yourself to come out.

Jeremiah was setting the table as you quietly entered the room. – “Sit!” – he demanded, pointing at your chair. You sat down without any protest. Jeremiah sat down as well. – “Isn’t this nice.” – he said placing his elbow on the top to lean on his hand. – “I have missed you dearly Y/n and now I am not letting you go.” – he started. – “You surely must have missed me too.”

You didn’t respond, staring at your plate. Hearing the clicking of a gun underneath the table made you lift your head up to him. – “Was it not required of you to conversate with me?” – he said with a smirk, still leaning on his hand. – “Sorry…” – you responded. Jeremiah exhaled loud placing the gun on top of the table. – “So did you miss me Y/n?” – he asked again. Biting your lip, you weren’t sure what to respond. You surely didn’t want to say anything wrong that would lead him to hurt you. – “I believe I did.” – you answered hoping it would please him.

Jeremiah pressed his hand against his heart with delight. – “You warm my heart Y/n.” – he answered. After diner, you actually just wanted to head for bed and cry your eyes out. Jeremiah saw you shuffle numbly towards one of the doors, making him clear his throat loud. – “I demand a kiss.” – he insisted upon. You exhaled, shoulders slouching. – “I just want to sleep.” – you responded.

“A kiss darling!” – Jeremiah persisted warningly. Turning back around, you walked up to him. Jeremiah tapped his cheek proudly. – “Good night Jeremiah.” – you wished him leaving out a kiss. Jeremiah’s gun was out again. This time pointing firm against your head. He tilted your head a bit with the point, pressing it deeper into your skin. – “A kiss Y/n!”

A part of you wanted to do nothing and see if he would really shoot your brains out. Another part of you didn’t want to die. Then there was a little tiny part that loved this. That loved to be back in his life again as the love for him never seemed to have died out fully. Giving in, you got on your tips, leaving a kiss against his cheek. Jeremiah groaned in pleasure, rolling his eyes back at how high your affection made him feel. Like a new toxic for his insanity. You then headed for bed, darkness consuming you as soon as your head hit the pillow.

For over a month now, you tried everything. Trying to escape and fight against every one of his stupid demands. They had always been civilized as he didn’t want to force things on you. Yet that didn’t stop you from going in protest. Afterall he did kidnap you and kill your boyfriend right in front of you. Just because with his newly insanity, he can’t keep you out of his head. Wanting you all for himself. Keep you locked away for no one to see.

After a while your efforts grew tireless. Having no more interest in keeping up the fight. You surrendered to your newly formed life. Doing whatever he said or demanded. Your old feelings for him didn’t make it easier as you felt like losing your mind too. They began to resurface with each day. You must be a fool to fall back in love with your kidnapper. Yet you couldn’t stop it. The love you had for Jeremiah before it all went down, still there.

Jeremiah was in his office. Planning away behind his desk. You sat in the living room, surrounded by quietness. Sighing soft, you got up to knock on his door. Jeremiah’s head lifted up with curiosity. A second later his door opened as you appeared in the door opening. – “Can I join you?” – you asked. Jeremiah narrowed his eyes at you, trying to figure out what your plan was. – “I promise to not make a sound.” – you added. In truth you just didn’t want to be alone.

Jeremiah nodded as you entered, closing the door behind you. Jeremiah observed you as he watched you take a seat near the window. He quirked up his eyebrow when you were just staring out of the window. Jeremiah hesitantly picked up his papers, still keeping an eye on you in case you thought about doing something funny. He kept looking up to you from time to time, trying to understand what you were planning.

What elaborate plan you were scheming up to escape or kill him. After a while you got up as Jeremiah watched your movement with precision. His mind going off about a thousand scenario’s of what you might do. He stared confused at the door you had just left, only for you to return with drinks and something to eat.

Jeremiah expected you to stay on the other side of the desk as to his surprise you came to his side. Setting the plate down. – “I thought you might be hungry.” – you simply said. Jeremiah looked suspiciously at the plate. Trying to see if he could see traces of poison. He dropped his pen, crossing his arms to lean back in his chair. – “You eat it.” – he called out, not trusting it one bit. – “Okay.” – you answered tearing a piece of the food apart to eat. Jeremiah watched you closely.

“The whole thing.” – he responded, still suspicion you might have not poisoned it all to not raise suspicion. You shrugged your shoulders, taking the whole plate. – “I was only offering.” – you said returning to the window. Jeremiah held his hard stare on you. Waiting for you to have a reaction from the poison that never came. Perhaps it wasn’t poisoned at all. – “Y/n!” – Jeremiah called out as you got up. Having a clue of what he was about to ask.

You lowered yourself a bit to kiss his cheek. This time slow and tenderly. Jeremiah blinked surprised as he didn’t need to finish his request. – “That… that was what you wanted right?” – you asked seeing him puzzled. – “Yes…” – he answered, clearing his throat.

Later that night, Jeremiah fell asleep on the couch. Too exhausted from being locked up in his office all day. You sat across from him, watching him sleep. Rather staring at him as you had a million thoughts in your head. Some of them about escaping but they were quickly silenced out. Getting up, you took a blanket along with you. Placing it neatly over him. You then lowered yourself to kiss his forehead. Jeremiah moved a bit in his sleep as you let him be.

A few hours later he woke as you had already gone to bed. Confused he took an edge of the blanket laying over him, questioning if he had grabbed a blanket with him. He hadn’t. His gaze went up to your room, knowing it must have been you that had placed it on him. Why he wondered?  Jeremiah got up, going back to his office to continue plotting. When the sun rose, you were confused to not find Jeremiah in the sofa where you had left him or in his bed.

Slightly panicking, you searched the entire house. Swinging the door to his office open as you found him. Looking paler as ever. Eyes red and puffy. – “Jeremiah!” – you called out entering as he groaned loud. He felt groggy as he slowly tried to rise from his seat. He lost his balance, having to set his hand down on the desk to not fall face forwards on it. You rushed over to him, swaying his arm over your shoulder to keep him upright. – “I’m fine!” – he called out, pushing you away from him. – “No you are not!” – you insisted upon seeing him nearly lose his balance again.

You touched his forehead, before he could slap it away. – “You’re burning up.” – you told him. – “I am not!” – he let out not wanting to sound weak. – “That is what you get for overworking yourself!” – you shouted in defence. – “I am not…” – Jeremiah called out nearly tipping over on you. You caught him before he could tumble down with you. – “You are going to rest.” – you ordered helping him out of the office. Jeremiah protested but let you assist him out anyways.

You pushed the door to his bedroom open. – “I can handle myself.” – he grunted out, pushing you back as he wanted to walk by himself. He stumbled forwards, quickly reaching his bed in a weak way. He fell face down on his matrass, groaning loud. His legs to the ground as he wasn’t fully in the bed. You sighed soft, grabbing his feet to lay them in the bed with him. – “Back!” – Jeremiah groaned, kicking at you. His shoe hit your hand, making you stumble back.

He set his knuckles on the matrass, trying to pull himself up. – “Out! I’m locking the door!” – he said not wanting you near. He knew he was defenceless now. Unable to keep you  under his command with the loss of his strength. He didn’t want to give you any opportunity to kill him or call the GCPD. Angering your expression, you returned to him. – “Let me help you!” – you shouted grabbing his feet and tossing it on the bed with him.

He groaned laying in an uncomfortable position, needing to chance it. – “I said get out!” – he yelled breaking out a sweat. – “You’re sick!” – you shouted back. – “I’m not.” – he grumbled out. – “Jeremiah!” – you screamed losing your patience around him.

Jeremiah stared at you panting loud. You spun around leaving the room as Jeremiah rolled over, coming to lay on his back. He eyed the door, feeling too worn out to even lock it. Closing his eyes, he accepted his fate. You were probably calling the GCPD right now to come and take him to Arkham. He hated coming down sick. If this wasn’t happening, he’d still have you under his control. Now he was defenceless and it pained him to know you would turn against him. Finally elaborate on that plan of yours.

The door opened once more as you entered with some material. You set the bowl of water down on his nightstand, coming to sit on the matrass with him. Dipping the cloth in the cold water to lower his temperature. Just as you were moving your hand over to him, he grabbed your wrist with firm. Not wanting your hand near him. – “Let me help you Jeremiah.” – you asked, practically begged. – “Why?” – he asked curious. – “You phoned the GCPD so stop fussing about me.” – he said defeated lowering his hand on you.

His response made you blink curious. – “I did not phone them.” – you told him, slowly touching his face with the wet cloth. – “I just want you to get better.” – you finished. – “So no plot for murdering me?” – he asked making you stare in shock at him. – “What?” – you blurted out.

Then you started laughing. – “I’m not planning your murder Jeremiah.” – you reassured him, dapping the cloth against his neck. – “Then… then why are you looking after me?” – he wanted to know what your motive could be. You smiled down at him before leaving a kiss on his nose. – “Thank you for coming back for me.” – you whispered to him. Jeremiah blinked speechless at you. You wanted to wet the cloth again when you felt a grip around your wrist. You looked down at it before locking your gaze on him.

Jeremiah lifted his head a bit up as you leaned closer as well. His palm brushed up your cheek making him breath out in bliss. Closing your eyes, you kissed him. First tender than rougher as he had missed your lips for so long. Getting high on just their touch. Weary he had to pull away, letting himself fall back on the pillow. You continued to tend for him as he finally understood your motives. There were none.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[darkeralmond]

Dark Red

Jeremiah Fisher x fem! Reader

synopsis: jeremiah tries to comfort you after a confrontation with your ex, but things escalate to more in a heartbeat

warnings: 18+, smut w/ no plot, fingering, praising, oral (fem! receiving)

word count: 1.3k

a/n: HII!! to get back on my writing grind this summer, i found one of my old drafts and proof read it and fixed it up. HOPE U ENJOY! GO PANTHERS!

The door shut as Jeremiah placed his hands on your face. “What happened to make Conrad beat the shit out of that guy and make you cry?” He pouted his lip.

You struggled to get a sentence out. The tears welling up in your throat made your bottom lip trembled. “The guy…who C-Conrad beat up was…my ex.” You confessed, interrupting your sentence with heavy breathing.

Jeremiah patiently waited as you attempted to calm yourself down before continuing, “He wouldn’t leave me alone and Conrad stepped in.”

With that admission, Jeremiah pulled you into a hug. You grasped onto him tightly and let yourself melt into him. His chin rested on the top of your head. “He said I dressed like a slut, Jeremiah,” you said through tears.

He rubbed your back in a circular motion. “He just can’t handle the fact he can’t you.” He let go of the embraced and held onto your hands. “You looked beautiful in your dress tonight.” His eyes traveled down your body teasingly. “Really beautiful.” His eyes innocently looked into yours, watching as a rosy flush grew in your face. “Oh, you liked that?”

“Shut up,” you muttered as you focused your eyes elsewhere in the room. His index and middle finger crept under your chin, lifting your head up to look him in the eye.

He shot a glance down at my lips before whispering, “Y/N, I want to kiss you so bad. Can I?”

Sheepishly, you nodded your head. A faint smile formed on his face before bringing his lips to yours. It was quick and comforting, but still passionate. It was nice, but you needed more.

You leaned forward and pressed more against his lips. Jeremiah grabbed onto your hips and kissed you deeper, his hands traveling downward. The tips of his fingers brushed against your ass before he gripped onto both cheeks and pulling you closer to him.

You pulled away and gasped. “Jeremiah,” you whispered.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” He frantically asked. “Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry, Y/N!”

You shook your head and brought your hands up to his face. “I want you. I want this.” You watched as a smile broke onto his face. “Now, let’s take this off.” You began to undo the buttons of his shirt, sliding it with his assistance. He pulled you back in for another kiss, pushing his tongue through your parted lips. He pressed his body against the wall.

You pulled away before placing lingered kiss down his face to his neck. Jeremiah tilted his head up so you could access his neck better. You nibbled on the sensitive part of his neck, causing him to groan. “God, your perfect.” He grunted as he brushed my hair with his fingers.

He scooped you into his arms and led you over to his bed. You let out a faint giggle as he tossed you onto his soft comforter. He climbed on to of you and thanked you by locking his lips with your neck. He placed dark bruises all along your neck as if he wanted everyone to know your body was his.

His free hand crawled up your skirt, tugging at your panties. Your body shivered because of the feeling of everything. Your dripping cunt soaked the cloth of my panties. His hand slowly slid under my underwear and began to message my clit.

You held your breath as you bit back moans. His fingers moved in a slow circular motion as if he was handled your body carefully. The feeling of his fingers while sucking on your collar bone caused my eyes to roll. The muscles in your legs began to tighten as you gripped onto his blonde curls.

You sucked in cold air through your gritted teeth, struggling to stay quiet. You were fragile beneath his touch, he made you weak. Jeremiah finally pulled away from your neck, his fingers inserting inside of you.

You gasped for air, he threw his free hand over you mouth in an attempt to keep you quiet. “You’ve got this. You’re doing so well.” He whispered into your ear. “Y/N, you’re so close.” His warm breath brushed against your neck.

You squirmed as the throbbing in your core increased. You felt a sudden release of sexual tension while a wave of satisfaction washed over you. Your muscles loosen as you listened to your racing heart.

He pulled his hand out from under your skirt and looked at the glistening liquid on his fingers. You blushed with embarrassed and looked away.

“Good girl.” Jeremiah husked. With his clean hand he brushed some hair out of your face.

“Is there anything you want me to do to you?” You asked him hesitantly. Even though you didn’t have much experience you didn’t want him to feel like he only had to give and not receive.

“Just let me handle it, I’ll make you feel good.” He winked. “Just relax.” He went down to the foot of the bed and got down on his knees. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer to him.

You let out a tiny giggle anxiously as he spread your legs. He flashed you an innocent look before flipped back your skirt. He started slow by placing lingering kisses on your inner thighs. They were warm and damp as he grew closer between your legs.

He slowly pulled down your panties and, with your assistance, took them off. He stuck his head back between your legs and wrapped his arms around your upper thighs. His strong arms were able to pin you down as he flicked his tongue against your clit.

You shuddered at the sensation, letting out a quiet moan. His mouth lapped against your lips, taking in all your juices. You knew he was experienced and for a while you couldn’t tell whether that upset you or intrigued you.

It didn’t matter now.

In this vulnerable moment, you knew you were his and he was yours.

Your body was in his possession.

You struggled to sit up, but when you did, you held yourself up with your elbows. You threw your head back as you let out a whimper. “Jere,” you whispered as you felt yourself growing closer.

Your breathes were shaky and your toes curled. There was an ache that shot through your legs, but you were so overwhelmed with pleasure that you ignored it.

“Right there,” you purred. You bit down hard on your bottom lip in an attempt to keep quiet. You knew doing this in the house was risky, but it felt so good. The danger was hot.

He sucked until you could no longer contain your. Your body froze momentarily while the sound of your pulsing heart filled my ears. You let out a choked moan as you finished.

You looked down meeting his eyes while taking in deep breaths. Your eyes widened in fear, you had came all over his mouth. He found your horror amusing as he smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Didn’t know you had a wild side of you, Y/N. Glad I could meet it.” He got off the floor and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Do you want to stay the night? Maybe we could go further?” He cooed while wiggling his eyebrows.

You searched for your phone, finding your bag on the ground next to the door. You got up and pulled it out, looking at the time. It was almost 1 in the morning.

“I should probably get home. My sister’s probably worried sick.” You grabbed your underwear off the floor and slipped them back on. “We could continue you this tomorrow?” You flashed him a hopeful smile.

Jeremiah chuckled as he gave you a quick kiss. It felt weird tasting yourself on his lips. “You’re adorable. Of course.”

[theemporium]

Oh my god Maxie and trouble!!??!!!!! Literally my favs… no thoughts just domestic max and trouble trying to sleep but she just won’t stop talking and max just kisses her to shut her up and finally get some beauty sleep 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏‼️‼️‼️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

this was so cute and so self-projecting kqedjewfkqd thank you for requesting! and sorry not sorry to the team jeremiah girls!!🫶🏽

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If there was one mistake Max made when it came to your relationship, it was agreeing to binge tv shows with you.

And yet, he fell for the trap every single time. 

Personally, Max was never one to get overly invested in tv shows or movies. He would enjoy them, there were a few he wouldn’t mind rewatching on the odd rainy day. But he never got attached, whether it be to the show or the plot or the characters. 

Not in the way you did.

He had to admit that he did find it adoring just how invested you got. If you liked the show, you were all in. You had your favourite characters and your comfort episodes. For the short time you watched the show until you finished, it was a hefty topic in most of your conversations. You got angry and sad and upset and excited over these shows. Max had never really experienced anything like it. 

And usually—usually—he genuinely did find it adorable. 

But sometimes there were moments like this one where he majorly regretted watching the show with you.

“I just don’t get how everybody can’t see the clear endgame!”

“Mhm.”

“Like, from music and cinematography and—”

“Mhm.”

“She has to end up with Conrad! She has to! I mean,” you paused for a moment as you let out a scoff. “Who would choose Jeremiah? He just lurks in the background with his creepy blue eyes and weird stare!”

“Mhm,” Max hummed like he had been doing for the last fifteen minutes before he paused. He frowned, opening his eyes to look over at you. “Wait, you don’t think my blue eyes are creepy, right?”

“Of course not, baby,” you murmured with a soft smile. “You have pretty ocean eyes. Jeremiah Fisher has the eyes of a white walker.”

Max snorted. 

“I’m serious, Max. They stare into your soul.”

“I think you forget that I watched the show with you, Trouble,” he murmured as his eyes fell shut again, taking in a deep breath as he desperately tried to fall asleep like his body was begging him to do so. 

But you had just finished the last episode of season two, you were riled up, and now instead of going to bed and cuddling with him like he wanted, you were sat criss-crossed on the bed as you rambled away about a show Max stopped thinking about the second the tv turned off.

“He is just the clear second option when Conrad is there, all dreamy and perfect and still in love with her and—”

You never got a chance to finish your sentence before Max had sat up, his fingers tangled in your hair as he kissed you mid-sentence. You felt breathless and flushed, and it didn’t take long for you to sink into his embrace as he pulled you back down onto the bed until you were lying on top of him.

“I know you’re angry but you need sleep,” he murmured against your lips as he settled his arms around your middle. “We both do.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, still a little dazed from the kiss.

“And I would prefer to have my girlfriend in my arms rather than talking about some other man being dreamy or whatever you said,” Max added.

You laughed lightly as you nuzzled yourself further into his embrace. “You are Team Conrad though, right?” 

“Of course, Trouble,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “Now for the love of god, please fucking go to sleep.”

.

[yamayuandadu]

Sorry If i am bothering you but i want to know what role did the wilderness and its animals play in Mesopotamian mythology?

I like answering questions about Mesopotamia which indicate genuine interest, so no need to worry.

The most straightforward answer would be that the wilderness was generally perceived negatively (see ex. Wiggermann’s Scenes From the Shadow Side). The steppe in particular was usually portrayed as a place where one can get robbed at best and as the dwelling of ghosts, demons and the like - or just straight up the underworld -  at worst. The mountains were frequently viewed as a site of confrontations between gods and their opponents but more neutral or even positive portrayals pop up in literature too. It’s also important to note that the marshlands were viewed pretty firmly positively. As for wild animals: by far the best overview of Mesopotamian zoology is offered by Jeremiah Peterson in his dissertation A Study of Sumerian Faunal Conception with a Focus on the Terms Pertaining to the Order Testudines. Niek Veldhuis’ Religion, Literature, and Scholarship: the Sumerian Composition Nanše and the Birds, with a Catalogue of Sumerian Bird Names is really good too. There’s also quite recent Entomological Knowledge in Ancient Mesopotamia by Vazrick Nazari but you should bear in mind the author is an entomologist, not an assyriologist, so some sections are… less than reliable and sources as old as from the 19th century, and as questionable as Paropola’s phantasmagoric visions,  are employed once the focus shifts away from identification of insects.

More under the cut.

Animals were generally seen as an essential part of the world outside human dwellings. Positive comparisons to certain taxa - wild and domestic cattle and lions - are very common in myths, royal hymns, and other genres. The bovine analogies are so popular in Mesopotamian texts that even scorpions could be metaphorically described as a sort of bull.

Demonic traits could be attributed to some animals viewed as dangerous: snakes, scorpions and dogs in particular. Additionally, omen texts indicate that ants were seen as messengers of Ereshkigal, presumably because their burrowing lifestyle made the Mesopotamians assume they could move all the way down to the underground land of the dead. Finding ants while digging foundations for a new building was therefore an ill omen; seeing flying red ants above a house, meanwhile, was a sign the owner is at the risk of being killed. Due to such risks, behavior of ants was sometimes observed by religious specialists, and some of the namburbi protective rituals specifically deal with them. Locusts were a bad omen too, but that’s a given. On the other hand, moths were viewed as bringers of good omens.

Some deities were associated with the wilderness, and broadly with animals dwelling there. Most notable examples are Ninkilim (addressed as “lord of the creatures”; his name was at times confused with ninka, “mongoose”, leading to the development of the idea that he was a deified mongoose himself), Sumugan (though he was associated with domestic animals too) and to a smaller degree Numushda, arguably. Ennugi, a minor courtier of Enlil, could be addressed as the creator of grubs, though a similar role is also attested for the mythical king Alulim; attestations are limited to incantations against field pests, though. For more context see here.

A special case is Nanshe. Two of the major literary texts focused on her focus on interactions between her and animals - Nanshe and the Birds and Home of the Fish. These belong to the subgenre called “enumeration literature”: while there is an actual plot, and deities are involved, the goal is mostly to fit as many terms from a single category into a single composition. As a result, Nanshe sounds… unusually passionate (fixated, even) on the core topics. I think it makes for really unique characterization but alas, as a major Mesopotamian deity who fits neither into questionable Bible takes nor into the madonna-whore complex she’s not getting anywhere in popculture. Something that’s generally missing from the Mesopotamian repertoire are myths involving anyone turning into an animal. There are two notable exceptions, Enlil and Namzitarra, which involves Enlil turning into a raven to test a devotee, and Dumuzi’s Dream, in which Dumuzi asks Utu to turn him into a gazelle to escape underworld gendarmes pursuing him.

Major gods were not theriomorphic, and with some small exceptions (Tishpak, whose skin is in one case described as green and scaly; Ishtaran, who might have been depicted with the lower body of a snake) didn’t even have any animal body parts. However, deified animals are nonetheless also attested - multiple examples of divine bulls are the main example, obviously (for instance Indagara, Buru, the borrowed Hurrian Sheri and Hurri, possibly Magiru, “obedient”), as expected divine lions also pop up every now then, but that’s not all.

There’s a number of deified birds, though most of them occur only in Early Dynastic sources which do not provide any real insights about their character. One example that comes to mind is the deity Kiki or Ninkiki (“lady of the kiki); we have no clue what sort of bird the kiki was though, other than that it was loud enough to be compared to the storm. Nirah is a deified snake.

Deified invertebrates are much less common but it’s still worth bringing up Eḫ, a member of the court of Nungal whose name is pretty semantically similar to English “bug” (though it might also specifically refer to a louse. There is also an either divine or demonic centipede, Ḫallulaya. Among the numerous ancestors of Enlil there is a pair named Engiriš and Ningiriš, “lord butterfly” and “lady butterfly”. It is often claimed that Uttu, the goddess of weaving, was portrayed as a deified spider, but the evidence is at best limited, see here and here for details. Peterson doesn’t list her among deified animals.

A mythical creature listed in enumerations of Ninurta’s enemies, kulianna (“friend of heaven”), might be a supernatural dragonfly, though it’s also possible it was imagined as something else altogether and the link to dragonflies is just the result of homophony with Akkadian kulīlu, “dragonfly”. For more detail see here, p. 89. In art there’s a fair number of depictions of animals behaving like humans, but the full context of such works remains poorly known. There’s a brief overview here from p. 237 onward. 

Especially in Assyria wild animals were customarily hunted by kings, and trophies acquired this way served as a way of showing off the extent of their dominion. It has been suggested that they could eventually acquire apotropaic qualities, as evidenced by the preparation of protective statues  of the apsasîtu, the burḫiš and the nāḫiru, sometimes interpreted as water buffalo, yak and whale. However, the meaning of these three terms remains uncertain, for some recent considerations see here.

[sombrashe]

relationship troy x reader

content afab gender neutral reader, chubby reader, thigh riding, praise, no plot just horny, established relationship

Note Happy February here's a valentine's gift for you all

"Just like that."

He mumbles his voice not even a whisper. His normal chatter is kept to a minimum. You on the other hand are having trouble keeping your noises to yourself. His hand covers your mouth and nose in a crude attempt to keep you quiet. Rocking your hips you feel the wet spot growing on his worn-out jeans. Vaguely you think how it's going to be suspicious when he leaves the room in new pants, but your thoughts stray as your clit catches on the denim.

"You have to be quiet. Please."

He had been begging to spend some time with you under the impression that today was Valentine's Day. You only relented when he offered a real bed instead of your normal truck bed. His soft whimpers only make your hips stutter.

"I- tr-ng."

His fingers squeeze your cheek with the same intensity as yours grip his wrist. Every slick movement of your hips has your knee bumping against his painfully hard cock. Your eyelids are low, but you continue staring into abysses. His hips jerk against the air as you take your fill. The friction that builds with every glide feels delicious and you claw at the bulletproof vest he never got a chance to take off. Rising your hips you feel overwhelmed and try to ride out your high intermediatly. He notices your lack of substantial movement and forgoes the hand over your mouth to violently yank you back down onto his thigh. Forcing your movements he watches with wild abandonment as you try to jerk away. Pulling back his lips in a snarl he cups the small of your back allowing the pain in your hip to slowly subside.

"Keep on rocking, like that. Yeah, you're doing so good."

You bite hard onto your bottom lip and feel it split filling your mouth with copper. Troy immediately takes notice and silences your pained whine. Darting out his tongue he points his tongue and traces the trail from your chin to the inside of your mouth. You want to gag, the overwhelming taste of metal causing your head to spin. It didn't help that he was angling your hips forward. Your new position has you on your toes as strong hands massage your ass. The limited space he allows has you grinding your clit nonstop against denim. You were starting to get overwhelmed again and tried separating yourself from Troy.

"Stay still. Ya' feel so good and wanna cum so badly. Don't ya'?

His whispers shoot straight to your core. Digging your nails into his hair you hug around him. His movements pause for a moment before picking up pace. You bury your face into his neck, his beard rubs into your cheek. The sounds you make are lust-filled. Barely muffled long whines mix with the occasional word, "fuck" "troy" "i love you". He was staying surprisingly sober throughout the interaction and you made a mental note to reward him for being so good. He mumbles some sweet words in your ear. Each one ends with praise for the way you rode him. How good you are being staying nice and quiet. How he can't wait to taste you. With that, the coil in your abdomen snaps, and your thighs shake as your orgasm washes over you.

"Troy, Dad needs to speak to you."

You grip onto Troy tighter as you try to stifle the shaking cries exiting your throat. He rocks you through the heat coming from under your skin.

"I'll be down in a minute."

His voice is strained and you desperately want him to cum too. Jake lets out a laugh and warns that Troy doesn't have much time before Jeremiah would be the one looking for him. You slump soon after Jake's footsteps fade down the hall. Pressing blood-stained kisses across his neck your libido is still high. He stands with your legs jelly-like as you attempt to stand. Wrapping your arms around his broad waist you give him your best attempt at a stern pout. Troy just pinches your nose and tells you to wobble your way into the bathroom to get cleaned up. You huff and take a shaky step back. Ruffling through his drawers you find a pair of jeans that you know will fit and toss them Troy's way.

"Is that the stage we're at? You dressin' me now?"

"Not like you know how'ta dress yourself."

He huffs and unbuckles his belt. You gather your jeans and underwear and hurry your way into the bathroom to prevent yourself from ending up on your knees. Cleaning between your thighs a little with a dipped washcloth you emerge from the small room fully dressed and situated. Stopping at the foot of his bed you take a moment to gather your weapons and hook them back onto your belt. Troy was standing tall by the door waiting for you. Opening the door he lets you through first before following closely behind.  He leads you down the hallway to the stairs with his hand gently placed on the small of your back.

"If my dad asks, we were going over safety strategies."

"Can't let daddy know you have sex?"

You snicker and he pushes you forward a little causing you to bite your tongue so you don't burst into laughter. You start to sober up when Jeremiah's face starts to come into view. You give a polite nod and hello to the old man. Jake's shit-eating grin is the exact opposite of Jeremiah's angry expression.

"What took you so god damn long?"

You pipe up and explain that you ended up busting your lip while going through safety exercises and Troy was simply helping you with it.

"Helping you? It's still bleeding."

"I never said he did a good job."

That gets Jeremiah's face to mellow out and he nods wishing you a good day and you take your exit with a gentle bloody kiss pressed to Troy's cheek.

banners made by cafekitsune

header made by me

[twiggy-in-pink]

“Lord, you know all about their murderous plots against me.

Don’t forgive their crimes and blot out their sins.

Let them die before you.

Deal with them in your anger.”

Jeremiah 18:23

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Potter and the Clay

1 The word that was made of the Lord to Jeremy, and said, (The word of the Lord that was made to Jeremiah, and said,) 2 Rise thou, and go down into the house of a potter, and there thou shalt hear my words. 3 And I went down into the house of a potter, and lo! he made a work on a wheel. 4 And the vessel was destroyed, which he made of clay with his hands; and he turned it, and made it another vessel, as it pleased in his eyes to make. (And when the vessel, which he made out of clay with his hands, was not acceptable, he turned it again, and made it into another vessel, which did please his eyes.)

5 And the word of the Lord was made to me, and he said, 6 Whether as this potter doeth, I may not do to you, the house of Israel? saith the Lord. Lo! as clay is in the hand of a potter, so ye, the house of Israel, be in mine hand (Lo! like clay is in a potter’s hands, so ye, the house of Israel, be in my hands). 7 Suddenly I shall speak against a folk, and against a realm, that I draw (it) out, and destroy (it), and lose it. 8 If that folk doeth penance of his evil, which I spake against it, also I shall do penance on the evil, which I thought to do to it. (But if that nation doeth penance for their evil, for which I spoke against them, then I shall do penance for the evil, which I thought to do to them.) 9 And I shall speak suddenly of a folk, and of a realm, that I build, and plant it. (And at any moment I shall speak of a nation, or of a kingdom, that I build it, or that I plant it.) 10 (But) If it doeth evil before mine eyes, (and) that it hear not my voice, (then) I shall do penance on the good which I spake, that I should do to it. 11 Now therefore say thou to a man of Judah, and to the dweller of Jerusalem, and say, The Lord saith these things, Lo! I make evil against you, and I think a thought against you; each man turn again from his evil way, and (ad)dress ye your ways and your studies. (And so now say thou to the people of Judah, and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, The Lord saith these things, Lo! I make evil plans against you, and I think thoughts against you; each person turn away from their evil ways, and direct, or amend, ye your ways and your deeds.)

12 Which said, We have despaired, for we shall go after our thoughts, and we shall do each man the shrewdness of his evil heart. (But they said, We despair, for we feel that we must go after our own thoughts, and each person doeth the depravity of his own evil heart.)

13 Therefore the Lord saith these things, Ask ye heathen men, who heard such horrible things, which the virgin of Israel hath done greatly? (And so the Lord saith these things, Ask ye the heathen, who hath heard of such a horrible thing, as that which the virgin of Israel hath done?)

14 Whether [the] snow of the Lebanon shall fail from the stone of the field? either cold waters breaking out, and floating down, may be taken away? (Shall the snow in Lebanon fail to fall on the stones of the field? or shall cold water breaking out, and flowing down, not be taken away?)

15 For my people hath forgotten me, and they offered sacrifices in vain, and stumbled in their ways, and in the paths of the world (and stumbled on their own ways, and on the paths of the world), (so) that they went by those in a way not trodden;

16 that the land of them should be into desolation, and into an hissing everlasting; for why each that passeth by it, shall be astonied, and shall move his head. (so that their land now be into desolation, and into an everlasting hissing; for each person who passeth by it shall be astonished, and shall move their head.)

17 As a burning wind I shall scatter them before the enemy (Like a burning wind I shall scatter them before the enemy); I shall show to them the back and not the face, in the day of the perdition of them.

18 And they said, Come ye, and think we thoughts against Jeremy; for why the law shall not perish from a priest, neither counsel shall perish from a wise man, neither word shall perish from a prophet (for the Law shall never perish from, or be lost to, a priest, nor good advice from a wise man, nor God’s word from a prophet); come ye, and smite we him with (the) tongue, and take we none heed to all the words of him.

19 Lord, give thou attention to me, and hear thou the voice of mine adversaries.

20 Whether evil is yielded for good, for they have digged a pit to my soul; have thou mind, that I stood in thy sight, to speak good for them, and to turn away thine indignation from them. (Shall evil be yielded for good, for they have dug a pit for me; remember, O Lord, that I stood in thy sight, to speak good of them, and to turn away thy indignation from them.)

21 Therefore give thou the sons of them into hunger, and lead forth them into the hands of [the] sword; the wives of them be made without children, and be made widows, and the husbands of them be slain by death; the young men of them be pierced together by sword in battle. (And so give thou their sons into hunger, and lead them forth into the hands of the sword; let their wives be made without children, and be made widows, and let their husbands be killed; and let their young men be altogether pierced by the sword in battle.)

22 Cry be heard of the houses of them, for thou shalt bring suddenly a thief on them; for they digged a pit to take me, and hid snares to my feet. (Let a cry be heard from their houses, for thou shalt suddenly bring a thief upon them; for they dug a pit to catch me, and hid snares for my feet.)

23 But thou, Lord, knowest all the counsel of them against me into death; do thou not mercy to the wickedness of them, and the sin of them be not done away from thy face; be they made falling down in thy sight, in the time of thy strong vengeance; use thou them to other thing than they were ordained (use thou them for something other than what they were ordained for). — Jeremiah 18 | Wycliffe's Bible (WYC) The Wycliffe Bible is in the public domain. Cross References: Genesis 6:6; Leviticus 26:32; Deuteronomy 29:19; 1 Samuel 2:30; 1 Samuel 13:13; 1 Samuel 15:33; 1 Samuel 19:4; 1 Kings 9:8; 2 Kings 17:13; Nehemiah 4:5; Job 5:13; Job 27:21; Psalm 35:7; Psalm 48:7; Psalm 52:2; Psalm 59:5; Psalm 63:10; Psalm 106:45; Psalm 119:85; Psalm 140:5; Isaiah 29:16; Isaiah 57:10; Isaiah 57:14; Isaiah 62:10; Isaiah 66:8; Jeremiah 1:10; Jeremiah 2:10-11; Jeremiah 7:3; Jeremiah 19:1; Jeremiah 31:28; Lamentations 3:59; Amos 9:11; Matthew 20:15; Acts 26:20; Romans 9:20-21

[kyndredravenstories]

Eyes of Infinity: Delirium Chapter 10

Hello, I have been posting my work on AO3 and recently decided to venture here to Tumblr. Please note: This story is 18+. No minors. Please read tags carefully. Link to AO3 below but I will also be posting the chapters here.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53564641/chapters/149322682

Pairing: Sylus/Female MC with some elements of Xavier/Female MC

Genre: Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Adventure, Smut, Porn with Big Plot and Big Feelings

Content Warning (For the entire fic): Explicit sexual content, spoilers and alterations to existing lore and cards/memories/tender moments/secret times, size kink, size difference, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, anal sex, fingering, all kinds of fingering, elements of consensual somno, dom!Sylus, jealousy, possessive!Sylus, Mephisto stalking, typical game violence, battle and combat

Summary: To love him meant stepping over the threshold and crossing into darkness. To be with him meant accepting the lure of the shadows. And to protect him from betrayal meant sacrifice. I knew not how, only that I would not let time sever our paths ever again.

Previous Chapters: Ch 1 / Ch 2 / Ch 3 / Ch 4 / Ch 5 / Ch 6 / Ch 7 / Ch 8 / Ch 9

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Give yourself to her...she's right here...so close...so very very close...

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Nearly two days after he found Ellara in the N109 Zone, Xavier stands before their shared apartment building holding his sleeping partner in his arms. Though its only been a few days, it seems like he hasn't seen this building in ages. It's a far cry from anything luxurious, but this aging building has been 'home' for several years now.

He takes a moment to collect himself, breathing deeply of the crisp winter air. The falling snow should be a relaxing sight; it typically is. But, not tonight. On this night, he can't let his guard down, can't relax yet. They left N109 and its perils behind. But, just because they've made it to Linkon doesn't mean they're safe. Eyes could still be watching. In fact, an unwelcome intruder already is.

Up above, a large crow circles and settles on a light pole. Its eerie red eyes observe his every move.

Choosing to ignore this particular development, Xavier hugs his beloved's petite body close, giving himself a moment -- just that -- to feel her warmth against his cheek. He takes it in, using it to fuel his resolve. Within his core, his Evol pulses and writhes. It eats at the edge of his awareness --whispering, beckoning -- and it takes all of Xavier's self-control to keep it in check.

He should take her to his apartment, not hers. It's only logical. She'll be safer there, on his couch, tucked against him while she sleeps. Yes, far from prying eyes. In his arms where she belongs.

With great effort, Xavier shakes off the voiceless whispers and focuses on the task before him. Right now, the priority is to get Ellara home safely. Nothing else matters. Not the mark on her neck, or the crow leering down from above, or the long-imprisoned monster now lurking in his thoughts and making its demands. Jeremiah is already working on a new Limiter. Just need to wait it out until he can get it working.

If only the last week hadn't been so harrowing. He needs sleep. And food. Medical help probably for his injuries. His body is on the verge of collapse, and losing that Limiter isn't helping anything. Breaking the collar was not something he'd intended to do. But, the battle hadn't left him much choice. Or rather, Sylus hadn't left him any recourse.

What was he supposed to do? Walk away and let that monster keep his Ellara in his claws?

Again, he shakes his head.

Escaping the N109 Zone had proven to be much harder than Xavier had anticipated, even with help from his contacts. Based on the intel he had on Noxis, only a handful of sectors and areas were free of their surveillance. He couldn't risk them catching wind of Ellara's whereabouts, so they'd had to take the long way out. Truth be told, he hadn't even wanted to take her back here.

His apartment may not be safe, either. They were watching...always watching...

No.

She needs to heal. She needs to return to some normalcy in order to recover both in mind and in body.

And, he needs time as well.

So many things will only get much harder from here. Keeping her safe will require all of his strength and fortitude. Noxis will seek every opportunity to capture Ellara's Aether Core. No doubt they want to use it to make LUMINIS even more powerful. If anything was made clear with the disaster at the Mythe, it's that Noxis isn't some two-bit upstart looking to corner the market on a simple drug. Someone is planning to do something grave with LUMINIS. This operation isn't new. It's been in play for some time, and those leading it know exactly what they're doing.

Clenching his jaw so hard his teeth hurt, Xavier looks up towards the third floor of the building. Taking the elevator seems too daunting at the moment, so he Jumps. Taking care not to jostle the sleeping woman in his arms, he teleports a few feet above her balcony then floats down until his feet softly touch the tile. The sliding door is unlocked, and he manipulates his Evol to open the door and allow him entry.

Though it's been over a week since she's been home, her apartment still smells like her. Strawberries and cherry blossoms. Sweet, addictive. Her favorite lotion from a hole in the wall boutique down in the Azure District. A pile of detective and fantasy novels sits atop her living room table, their covers full of scuffs and creases. On the couch, her Betsy doll smiles at him from beneath Ellara's favored blanket.

Everything looks as though she hasn't left. Neat. Organized. Tidy.

With one small difference.

Someone's definitely been here.

Taking great care not to wake her, Xavier lays Ellara on the couch. He adjusts her injured arm so that the sling he forced her to wear doesn't twist. She doesn't stir, sleeping like the dead. Her palor hasn't improved since he first saw her, either. He hasn't been able to confirm it, but something is definitely wrong with her Evol. Now that the collar no longer binds him, he can feel it clear as day.

A winter breeze comes through the open balcony door, and Ellara shivers in her sleep. He should lay down beside her and wrap her in his warmth. Keep her safe from the cold. But, someone's been here, and there's no telling what they took or left behind. Now was not the time to lay down arms. He needed to investigate the place first.

His gaze gentle yet alert, Xavier covers Ellara with her favorite blanket and stands up. In his hand, he summons the hilt of a golden blade, ready to engage in combat if the need arises. He moves silently to her kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. A sigh of relief; a release of tension in his shoulders. No one else is here, and Xavier takes a breath to keep his Evol and emotions steady.

He goes back to her bedroom. Her theme of gray, white, and black continues here from the living room. A cute desk stands against the wall, the cork board in front of it covered in small baubles, photo stickers, and plushies. Xavier smiles when he sees that most of the photos are of their times spent visiting the arcades in Linkon.

The bed is made, and all clothes and items are put away neatly. Not a thing looks to be out of place except for a single duffle bag sitting on Ellara's bed. It's new. Not hers. Wary, he walks up to its perch on the edge of the mattress and unzips it. Inside is a bunch of clothes packed into stacks based on use: shirts, pants, socks. Too neatly packed for his little workaholic. She always works too late on her reports and packs her things at the last minute, forgetting half of what she needs at home.

Something different about the closet, too. He shuffles to it but hesitates at the door. His instinct warns him not to open it. But, he needs to investigate. What if this is what's got him on edge? Of course. Now is not the time to hold back. He needs to ensure that this apartment is safe. Steeling himself, he grits his teeth and slides open the door.

Ellara is a frugal woman. She wears the same three sets of uniforms for work and only has a few everyday clothes that all fit neatly into bins on the closet shelves. Her hangars are usually empty. But now, something bulky hangs wrapped in a white designer clothes bag like a bright centerpiece. On the zipper hangs a slim stretch of paper with a single word on it scribbled in impeccable penmanship:

"Raincheck."

Xavier reaches for it.

Open it. Don't be a coward.

Against his better judgment, he unzips the bag all the way to the bottom. From within spills an extravagant evening dress with a stitching of the night sky stretching over a river. It's made of the finest silk and stitched with golden thread. Precious gems adorn the breathtaking scenery. A long flowing skirt ripples down to the floor. The quality is second to none. Without a doubt, it's a work of art. One of a kind.

Ellara will be a vision in this. Radiant, like a Goddess of the moon.

Shame it is not intended for you.

Anger simmers like an acid pill in his gut.

Because this item is clearly not something Ellara would ever buy for herself.

And who else could it be from but him, the same man that had dared to take her deep into the darkness, to touch her with his filthy hands, and to mark her like he owned her?

How dare he?

For centuries, Xavier had waited. Prayed and hoped. Then waited again. And at last -- at long last! -- he'd found her in a place where her life was her own. In a time when she could live as she desired and could choose him. He'd vowed not to interfere with her free will -- vowed to let her decide of her own volition whether she wanted their paths to unite. More than anything, he wanted her health and happiness, even if that wasn't by his side.

But, never had he really imagined that she might choose someone else instead.

Dizzy with fury, he stumbles back into the living room to stand before the couch. He watches Ellara sleep, his hands trembling and his heart in his throat. His nails dig into his palm as his hand clenches into a fist. He fights against the voice, so loud now. So insistent.

...she's so warm...and alive...alive at last...and mine... MINE ...

Why should he fight it? The voice was possessive, yes. Extreme, perhaps. But, it had a point. Nothing was yet decided. Sylus had played his cards, and now it was Xavier's turn. He'd waited on the sidelines long enough. He wasn't going to surrender her heart without a fight.

But, the voice was wrong, too.

Her free will mattered above all else. His vow was eternal, and he would never break it no matter how his soul cracked and shattered. He loved this woman more than his own unnatural immortal life, bought at the expense of her very heart. And it was that heart that he would protect with all he had.

From any who would harm it.

Even the monster inside of him.

As though sensing his determination, Sylus's crow flutters in through the open door and settles on a nearby bookshelf. It's crimson eyes narrow as it stares Xavier down.

Time to take care of this particular nuisance. He raises his hand, prepared to strike the unnatural thing down with his Evol, when his Hunter's watch rings with a message from an unknown number. He accepts it, grimacing when he reads the contents.

Be content with your role...or risk losing the gift you've been granted.

He types back without hesitation: "The loss will only be yours."

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Twenty four days, nineteen hours...

That's how much time passes from the moment when my life shattered on the rocks of chaos. Or maybe it wasn't a moment. Maybe it was a specific day? I can't be sure. So much happened in such a short amount of time that I can still hardly wrap my head around it all. In just a few weeks, I'd gone from living a calm and ordinary life as a Deepspace Hunter to facing one dramatic turn after another.

I'm losing my identity - my very purpose.

Who am I, if not a Hunter fighting Wanderers?

Who am I, if not Xavier's trusted partner?

Who am I, if not a lonely young woman who loves reading about detectives and fantastical new realms to a candlelit microwave dinner?

I try to think back on how it all started, wondering if maybe there was something I could have done differently to prevent this downward spiral.

Upon returning to Linkon, Xavier and I checked ourselves into Akso Hospital to treat our injuries. Doctor Zayne happened to be on shift. After hearing about my near-death experience, he was more than glad to help in screening me for any major after-effects. While succumbing to his battery of tests and inquiries, we reached out to Captain Jenna to schedule a debriefing.

As expected, the Captain was relieved to hear that I was alive and seemed to believe our story about me being injured and staying with a friend to lay low for a while. Naturally, the conversation turned to the truth about what happened in the club the night of the explosions. Reluctantly, we gave her everything we had on Noxis. There was no one better than Xavier and I to continue the investigation, and she was poised to place us at the head of it once our injuries were healed.

That's where everything started falling apart.

Doctor Zayne returned, and when he dismissed everyone from the room to speak to me, I knew something was seriously wrong. He didn't disappoint. Showing me the result of one test after another, he revealed a disturbing fact.

My Evol was gone.

Completely.

Something was blocking the Evol channels in my body, and if it wasn't resolved soon, my heart would be affected. The bouts of exhaustion I'd been facing weren't a result of the darkness in the N109 Zone. My Aether Core was shutting down, and there was no guarantee that one of these times, it wouldn't take my entire heart with it. At least, that was the theory. Not enough was really known about altered bodies like mine. Maybe Zayne was taking it too seriously; or maybe I wasn't taking it seriously enough.

Whatever the case, I asked him to keep it confidential. I didn't want anyone to know, especially Xavier. A solution was out there. I just needed to find it. Zayne said it could be temporary. If so, I just needed to figure out what would jump start my body back into its normal function. I wanted to remain positive. The alternative simply wasn't acceptable. I had too much to live for; too much still to do.

Though Zayne agreed to keep my sudden health problem a secret, I couldn't necessarily hide that something was amiss. He gave the Association a cursory diagnosis, claiming that I had a temporary disability due to my injuries. That's what we used for official record. However, the disappearance of my Evol rendered me basically useless in my former role as an S-Class Hunter. I retained my physical combat skills, but I couldn't Resonate with any of my weapons. I was more of a burden in combat than an ally, and with how fast paced and dynamic S-Class missions were, nobody could take the risk.

The first week went by in a flash of shattered hopes. I trained relentlessly, pinning everything on how weak my body was after my ordeal at the Mythe. I trained until I was ready to fall over. Yet, no matter how much I pushed my body, my Evol remained dormant.

On the second week, I was placed on extended medical leave. Suspension in all but name. Jenna wanted to reassign Xavier to a different Hunter as a partner, but he pulled some strings to avoid that. The thought was appreciated, but it did no good. Though my partnership with Xavier wasn't nullified, I was not allowed to accompany him on any missions.

After my diagnosis, he'd thrown himself into the Noxis investigations. He was determined to find out as much information as possible about the substance. We were both on the same wavelength. If my condition was caused by the LUMINIS spilling on me at the Mythe, we needed an antidote. This goal ultimately separated us for days on end, leaving me feeling useless and alone.

Tara was still in the hospital recovering after her kidnapping. She'd been transferred from the hospital in the Arctic to Akso just a few days before our return to Linkon. Unfortunately for us, she had no memory of who had attacked her. I visited her when I could, but she had her own battles to fight with physical therapy and getting back into her work at the lab.

To help ease my loneliness and help me feel more connected to what was happening, Xavier brought me to his friend Jeremiah. He was a tech genius and helped me obtain and configure a new phone and Hunter's watch. Since I was on suspension, my access to the UNICORNS database was revoked. Somehow, he helped me get past that. At the very least, I could do research now.

I started to lose hope in the third week. By the fourth, I couldn't sleep and hardly had any appetite. Worse yet, Sylus hadn't contacted me even once since we were separated on the battlefield. At first, I was worried something had happened. But then, doubts plagued me. More than once, I found myself brooding over what the twins had told me about being a prisoner or something Sylus was merely using for entertainment. A disturbing thought began to haunt me: had Sylus known about the disappearance of my Evol? Is that why he'd sent me away? Was I no longer useful to him without it?

I couldn't believe that he hadn't tried to reach me even once. The only line I had to him was Mephisto, who followed me everywhere I went. The crow's presence was oddly reassuring. At the very least, it helped remind me that I hadn't dreamed up everything that had happened in N109. Mephisto was Sylus's companion. He wouldn't have sent him to follow me if he didn't care about me. Right?

As I sit on my couch trying to understand where to turn or what to do next, my phone suddenly rings with a tone I've never heard before. I look down at the flashing notification.

Message from "Unknown". Do you accept?

I click the confirmation.

Are you tired of being on the sidelines? If you are, meet me at the Destiny Café tonight at 9PM. Come alone.

I hesitate. My hands start to tremble with excitement and fear. This doesn't sound like something Sylus would say, but who else would write a message like this?

I type back: "Who is this?"

To my surprise, my phone rings again.

What you choose to call me doesn't matter. I already told you, didn't I?

Biting my lip, I type a response: "Malakai?"

I have what you want most and a proposition to go with it. Will you wait until your heart stops beating at some random moment? Or will you come to me and make a trade? It's up to you.

I suck in a breath.

What I want most?

He can't be talking about an antidote, can he?

I jump to my feet and run to my closet. Sliding open the door, I notice a strange empty hanger I hadn't seen there before. Did Xavier bring it from his place? Shaking my head, I focus on getting dressed. I put on my Hunter uniform and holster two regular hand guns to my hips. I pull on a pair of combat boots and tie my hair into a braid. Glancing at my watch, I check the time:

2:15 PM

It's still early, but I want to go and scope out the scene before the meeting time. The Destiny Café is a very public place with many visitors and patrons. The 24-Hour venue is a popular hot spot for everyone from couples to gaming nerds who want to get away from the hustle and bustle of the every day. It has a public open bar, an internet café, and private rooms that can be rented for a fee per hour. No doubt Malakai will have rented one of these. If so, I can check the records with the staff. Though I'm on suspension, my Hunter's watch and uniform should make me look legit enough to gain some information without too much resistance. 

Would Malakai really try something under such public scrutiny? 

This could be a trap. It probably is. Absolutely. Definitely. But, I don't have the luxury to risk refusing. If Malakai has an antidote, then I have to try to get it. I don't know what connection he has to Noxis or why he was at the Mythe that fateful night, but this is a lead I absolutely can't ignore. His threat about my heart already has me sweating bullets. I've been trying to ignore Zayne's warnings, hoping that it was just his paranoia. But now, a second person has mentioned the possibility of my heart stopping. If that's true, then I'm living on borrowed time. Either I go and risk falling into a trap, or I stay here and wait for death to take me. When put that way, the choice seems clear. 

Is there anything I can do to try to protect myself, though? Jumping into the fire is something my old self would have done without thinking. But, I'm wiser now. At least, I want to believe so. I consider texting Xavier, but I hesitate. He's on a mission right now, and I don't want to distract him. But, I'd promised Sylus that I wouldn't be reckless, and I never want to see so much pain in Xavier's eyes again.

Running my hand through my hair and letting out a frustrated burst of air, I type him a quick text to let him know what's going on. Our relationship has been strange since our return to Linkon. He's been more distant than usual, though I can't really blame him after that awkward night at the bunker in the No Hunt Zone. I have no idea what he thinks of me anymore, and I'm too scared to assume. For the moment, I've chosen to stick my head in the sand until all of this blows over with my Evol.

I glance at Mephisto dozing on top of my TV and walk up to him. He lazily cracks open an eye. If I had to give an animal an emotion, I would have chosen "disgruntled" in this case. For a mechanical thing, he certainly has personality. Frowning, I clear my throat. I've haven't spoken to him in a while. Doing so always felt ridiculous. But, now...

"Sylus," I whisper, instantly feeling like an idiot. Despite that, I keep going.

"Sylus, I don't know if you can hear me. I don't know where you are or why you haven't reached out to me at all. Actually," my ears feel hot, "this just feels really stupid overall. But if there's a chance that you can hear me, then..." I take a breath. "I'm going to meet someone named Malakai. Tonight. Don't know if that name rings a bell. I met him at the Mythe the night I was injured. He was wearing a mask and seemed to be one of the people interested in buying LUMINIS. I have no idea if this is a trap, but he made me an offer I can't refuse."

My pride churns and boils inside me, but I take another breath and continue. "The truth is that I'm helpless right now. I don't have my Evol, and even if I did..." I hesitate. Why is it always so hard for me to ask anyone for help? Is it because I already feel weak and useless? Isn't asking for help just affirming that?

Another breath.

"This isn't courage. It's desperation, and if you can hear me I surely would appreciate some backup."

Mephisto is looking at me with both eyes now, the red within reminding me so much of his master. For a moment, I let myself feel how much I miss Sylus. How much I need him. The emotion is so strong that I have to immediately bury it deep within the back of my mind. Where I'm going, I can't afford distractions. I have to assume the worst case scenario: nobody will come to help me tonight. It'll be up to me and me alone to get myself out of this mess.

I turn towards the door and check my guns and clips one last time.

"Are you coming?" I ask Mephisto. He caws in his typical annoying way and makes a fuss as he flies over and reluctantly sits on my shoulder. "Alright. Let's do this."

[nicosraf]

hey! just finished abm and it was a great read. i was wondering though, about the plot-choice to make god a perpetrator of ass*ult. do u think it would have been less impactful if instead, god sent others to enact this “punishment” on lucifer instead? or if lucifer were to develop a hatred of god by himself without the ass*ult being written in? i suppose i just find it an interesting decision to see god take such a direct approach, especially when we see that he has normally taken a more indirect seat when it comes to warnings (like the parable of the doves), and normally has his archangels carry out his will. i guess what im trying to say is it’s difficult for me to see god characterized as a perpetrator just bc he seems less hands-on and more like a spectator/moderator for most issues. nevertheless, abm is a wonderful read! the way u write language is like the way mantis shrimp see color

Hello! First I have to mention that my anxiety immediately spiked at this because — especially post-Booktok — I've had to deal with very invasive DMs from strangers demanding an explanation from me for what you mentioned and, really, for everything sexual in the book. I've gotten used to just not answering now — I've made the mistake of thinking people are just curious before they start trying to argue with me (and become even more invasive about me/my-sexuality/traumas/etc)

That said, I think you are approaching me sincerely, so I can talk about it below the cut. It's a bit heavy so CW for SA. I'm sorry if my answer feels jumbled.

I mentioned that I basically got inspiration for how the tragedy of Lucifer would unfold from Ezekiel 16 — in which God grooms (in a very literal way) the personified Jerusalem until she is "old enough for love." God dresses her in all the finest jewelry and ensures she has the best food. Jerusalem is so beautiful that she became famous among all the nations, and God marries her. But then Jerusalem begins to put her faith in her beauty instead; she becomes a "prostitute" unfaithful to God. God threatens sexual violence:

I will gather them against you from all around, and I will strip you naked in front of them so they can see your nakedness. 38 I will punish you as women guilty of adultery or as murderers are punished. I will put you to death because I am angry and jealous. 39 I will also hand you over to your lovers. They will tear down your places of worship and destroy other places where you worship gods. They will tear off your clothes and take away your jewelry, leaving you naked and bare. 40 They will bring a crowd against you to throw stones at you and to cut you into pieces with their swords. (Ezekiel 16 NLT)

And he threatens Jerusalem for similarly in Jeremiah 13, this time even calling out her pride (some line earlier) in specific:

Will not pain grip you like that of a woman in labor? 22 And if you ask yourself, “Why has this happened to me?”— it is because of your many sins that your skirts have been torn off and your body mistreated. (Jeremiah 13 NIV)

And right below, God uses a very direct threat:

“I will scatter you like chaff driven by the desert wind. 25 This is your lot, the portion I have decreed for you,” declares the Lord, “because you have forgotten me and trusted in false gods. 26 I will pull up your skirts over your face that your shame may be seen— 27 your adulteries and lustful neighings, your shameless prostitution!

(You might notice these lines sound similar to those in ABM. That's very intentional. I modified them.)

But it is much deeper than that, of course. And you asked why God does it, rather than order someone else to do it.

For story reasons, I briefly considered God forcing Michael to do it, but that would be too forgivable. I would be taking away Michael's responsibility; in the future, Lucifer could realize Michael was forced to do what he did and they live happily ever after. That's not what I wanted. I also considered God ordering other angels to do it, but there was an obvious predator relationship from the start between him and Lucifer, and so it made less sense for other angels to do it. And, I didn't want the other angels to understand what happened to Lucifer, absolutely nobody.

It's really Lucifer's alienation that pushes him over the edge.

After all, he doesn't start the war after the incident. He grieves, then he returns to life. (The scene with Dina). It was the same thing he did when he lost his voice, and after getting it back. he begins to realize this is different. But, really, Lucifer was already resentful before the incident. In the lead up, before the chasing, Lucifer is talking bad about God is his head, he's talking back. He's furious at him already; if God hadn't done what he did, Lucifer would have started fully hating him over time and, most likely, after sleeping with Michael.

The SA is mostly unnecessary to Lucifer's development into hating God, except in modifying the hate and tying in the core inner struggles of the book. The scene's existence is more thematic.

ABM is a story about bodies, about body hate, and body autonomy. Lucifer has his autonomy denied over and over in the book; God says that he owns Lucifer's body because he created it. I'm referencing 1 Corinthians 6 with that:

All other sins a person commits are outside the body, but whoever sins sexually, sins against their own body. 19 Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; 20 you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies. (1 Corinthians 6 NIV)

(Relevantly, this chapter also mentions that homosexuality is wrong. And it also states how we should become one with God in a way parallel to becoming one with another person through sex: "Do you not know that he who unites himself with a prostitute is one with her in body? For it is said, “The two will become one flesh.” But whoever is united with the Lord is one with him in spirit.")

So when God does what he does, he violates Lucifer's autonomy and his body. It's not just a statement about Lucifer's body belonging to him (the body that Lucifer has struggled for so long to find comfort in), it's a way of showing that Lucifer has no escape. When Lucifer ran, God warped the world around them so that Lucifer kept returning to him. Everything on the outside was God, and then...

It's a punishment against promiscuity. Lucifer was growing into his sexuality. He was like an adolescent. He was flirting with the angels in the baths. He was learning to be sensual and to enjoy it. Punishing promiscuity with SA is incredibly Christian; it's what God does in the excerpts I shared above.

It's allegorical to Christian authority figures who've taken advantage of young people, particulalry very vulnerable people.

It's about screaming how violating the Christian God's actions have always felt. He's in your head, he owns your body, he is everything. He is allowing horrible things to happen to you. He is the thing hurting you. But he loves you. But he is watching you and ensuring you stay pure.

It's attached to this theme of a lonely God at the center of it all, so lonely he made a universe where all these things have to love him and adore him and gush about him. So lonely he made Lucifer, who is as close as he can get to an equal, which God neither wants nor believes he can create. But he wants something almost like him. Almost.

So — in most ways the SA is mostly metaphorical. The point is about domination and bodies, rather than God experiencing real desire or the SA just being a Bad thing that happens. And, if it helps, I don't imagine it to have been... normal. God is never described. He might not be human shaped (I don't imagine that he is).

Agh I'm ranting too much now, but this might be the last time I really talk about it. Despite all these things (and I didn't even mention everything), it's at its core a personal book about personal things, and talking about it can get difficult without getting worked up.

But I'll mention this was one of the big decisions I made when I stepped away from traditional publishing for the first time. In the original version of ABM, the SA was actually so subtle that only 1 beta reader caught it. But I didn't want to be a coward.

Thank you so much for reading. I'm really glad you enjoyed. Thank you for asking respectfully! I'm sending you good wishes. And I will think of shrimp mantis colors forever

[jammysworks]

smut after the cut

18+ MDNI

warnings: face sitting, oral (fem receiving), fingering, spit, overstimulation, slight dacryphilia, accidental edging, porn without plot

word count: 0.2k (this one’s a little short)

jeremiah’s tongue swiped across your folds, drawing shapes into your clit as your thighs squeezed around his head. his fingers began to prod at your entrance eliciting gasps from the figure above him.

jeremiah’s mouth slurped up all of your past oragasms and spit them back onto your clit, sucking on the bud. “fu-fuckk..jere m’ gonna cum!” you squealed while attempting to squirm away from the contact. “wanna see you cum on my tongue..” jeremiah muffled against your core, placing both of his hands on each side of your hips and accidentally pulling his mouth away when he began to lay you onto your back, causing your close and desperate relief to escape your grasp.

“n-no..i was so close!” you sobbed between hiccups and gasps, gripping onto the sheets below you. slick leaked from your quivering hole and dripping down your thighs while jeremiah placed his mouth flat against your cunt once again. “i’m sorry baby. guess we just have to do it again, hmm?” you pushed your hips away, hands moving from the sheets to his shoulders as you tried to move him off of your poor pussy :(. “i can’t..” you whined, tears beginning to form in your water line once again and leaking down your red hot cheeks. “..already finished four times, s’ too much!” regardless of your statement your body pushed itself towards jere’s ministrations. “you can take it.”

[stilldancewithyou]

It’s kind of crazy to me the cheating storyline is so debated because at the end of the day it’s not even why belly and Jere broke up? Like she said yes to his proposal and even if she was 129388274 feet in denial up until the wedding day like the cheating was never the cause of her denial. To me, the cheating’s biggest purpose is actually for Conrad. Without it he would have never confessed. And like even if it can be debated since belly and Jere were in a fight/broken up blah blah like it resonates with Conrad because it’s a direct parallel of their dad’s actions and how their dad treated Susannah. And I think this is reason why it’s so important to the 3rd book because in the past two books Conrad is grieving yes but he’s also very mad at his dad for cheating on his sick mom. His actions are a reaction to BOTH their parents. Like this is a boy who quit everything he liked because he was so scared of being like his shitty dad and he based his decisions on not being like his dad. And then he goes and discovers that his own brother did what their dad did to their mom to the girl they both loved!!!

Like it’s not “JH made jeremiah cheat to make him look bad against Conrad for the audience” its really “she made Jeremiah cheat because it’s quite literally the ONLY ill act that will make him look bad TO Conrad.”Because Conrad would’ve kept the belief that he was undeserving of belly for the rest of his life and kept sacrificing b/j happiness for his own if Jeremiah didn’t cheat.

For this reason alone I feel like it would be in the show. However they didn’t make it clear Conrad knew about his dad cheating, so it could go either way. But yeah these are just my thoughts :)

YES. this is exactly everything I've been trying to say. Thank you for articulating this point so well. SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK.

I could never really understand why Belly accepted the proposal, but she was really desperate to prove that she didn't still love Conrad because of how everyone else made her feel about being with Conrad. I don't understand why people have such a hard time understanding this and why so much of this fandom has such a hatred for the third book and Jeremiah cheating specifically. I have never seen so many people mad about one little plot before. I can only assume that people didn't actually read the book even though they act like they have. Honestly, for me the cheating thing wasn't the worst thing Jeremiah did in the 3rd book. He was a total and complete ass the entire book, and he had such hatred for Conrad it was actually so sad. Yeah, I just don't understand why everyone is so stuck on the cheating. for me that wasn't the worst thing he did or the deal breaker.

I 10000% agree with you. Conrad couldn't let Belly be with a man who would treat her the way Adam treated Susannah and especially not his own brother who should know how awful it is and how deeply it can hurt (and he obviously did know and recognize this bc he felt super guilty, bought her the cheap bracelet and then proposed after she found out). I also think Conrad saw himself as not good enough for Belly and when he found out Jere had done that, he finally realized that he wasn't as bad as he thought, it made him realize that Belly should be with someone who truly loves her and would never do that to her. Because his immediate response is "I would never do that". he literally tells Belly "I never even looked at another girl when we were together" and you know she also understands this and knows how bad it is, but she doesn't want to admit it or admit that she still loves Conrad and would rather be with him. Up until that point, Conrad was going to be the best man and watch them vow to love each other forever from his brother's side. He was opposed to the engagement from the start and thought it was a mistake but he was the only one who didn't say a word to Belly about that. He just helped her plan the wedding AND he went out of his way to convince Laurel to go to the wedding and be there for Belly. He was trying so hard to be okay with it. But like you said, as soon as he hears Jere and his friends talking about having sex with Belly and Jere cheating, he runs out of the bar and immediately finds Belly to tell her, and he goes from "I hate this wedding but I'm gonna help and not influence Belly's decision in any way" to "we could run away right now and be together" and finally confesses his feelings. I think everyone is completely missing this point when it comes to the cheating storyline. I just don't get how you could read the book and then say "oh the story would be fine without it". But nothing else they could come up with for Jere to do would be the same, it wouldn't be enough to get to Conrad. I've thought about everything you said here before and it really is such an exact parallel of Susannah and Adam and idk how people haven't figured that out/seen that yet.

I feel like it's kind of implied in the show that Conrad does know about his dad cheating (which is why he can't stand to be around him in the show). Everyone can believe what they want, but I choose to believe they are following the third book and we will see Jeremiah cheat and then eventually get to see the whole scene on the beach of Conrad telling Belly how he feels about her and them arguing about Jeremiah cheating.

[beesmygod]

i like thinking way too much about fromsoft games. there’s something about the light touch the writers use to carve out their worlds that just absolutely tickles my brain. writing way too much about the most trivial details using college essay formats is the easiest exercise to make sure my brain can still make basic connections and convey those connections to other people. but as a lore prescriptivist (snob), i try to only stick to what’s in front of me without attempting to drag in outside resources or succumb to the apparent impulse to engage in wild speculation that many fans find themselves mired in. additionally, i try to make things as clear as possible for the fandom rubbernecks who like to read lore dumps about things that are totally outside their wheelhouse (i do this).

here’s something really annoying to keep in mind with these games: they write the scripts in english and translate them to japanese. but the dev team obviously works in japanese and have a tendency to reveal connections that are either relevant to unlocking questions not addressed in the game (such as the parasitic wall hugger having the file name “Prince Izalith”). there are also inconsistencies between the english and japanese translations, which raises more questions about what the authorial intent REALLY is. so the best we can do is filter the noise, ignore the innate desire to put words or ideas in any developer’s mouth, and stick to things you can copy-paste to support your argument.

that said i have one theory i refuse to give up entirely on the basis that it is really funny to think about: Gwyn’s firstborn is the father of Crossbreed Priscilla.

look out bitch! look out bitch!

i will go over all the reasons that support my argument and then i will discuss the objective problems with my theory, which is absolutely not one i think anyone holds but me. generally, the community is in agreement that her father is traitor turned mad scientist Seath The Scaleless. seath is an albino dragon who, due to his jealously of the scales that granted eternal life to the other dragons, betrayed his brethren and helped the gods wipe the once everlasting dragons off the planet. his bottom half looks like microwaved tinfoil because he’s been fucking around with crystals. also he was just born fucked up.

seath was rewarded with dukedom and a slice of Gwyn’s (king of the gods. who are a race separate from humans, rather than literal gods) soul.

first let’s talk about what supports my theory, so you can get a feel for the timeline of events and the social mores within the world of dark souls (?? i typed this)

PRO:

Crossbreed Priscilla lives in the Painted World of Ariamis: this is explicitly a location for things and people that the gods want to either forget about or sentence to exile. there are very few residents in the painting; the entire population is priscilla, the corpse of xanthous king jeremiah, a rotting dragon descendant (a wyvern), phalanx from demon souls who got lost somehow, a handful of hollows and skeleton wheels, and velka’s crow worshippers.

Xanthous Crown - A mysterious item once worn by the Xanthous King Jeremiah, the legendary exile

Peculiar Doll - There once was an abomination who had no place in this world. She clutched this doll tightly, and eventually was drawn into a cold and lonely painted world.

Dark Ember - The church long hid the forbidden black ember, and no living blacksmith knows of it. Occult weapons were used to hunt the Gods, and are effective against their followers and kin

velka, an unseen goddess with a single worshipper, is an entire other kettle of fish, but she’s not as complicated as people make her out to be. she was banished or killed by the gods for participating in the plot to overthrow them (this is another subject that causes people to spin out). i dont have time to get into this, it just matters that she’s persona non-grata.

priscilla herself is described as a “crossbreed bastard child” in her soul description. this confirms that she is the result of an unauthorized fuck and suck. as the “antithesis to all life”, she wields a weapon called the lifehunt scythe that mows down gods and drains any mortal that tries to use it.

Lifehunt Scythe - Even the Gods feared Priscilla's lifehunt ability, and in the hands of a mortal, its power will turn upon its wielder.

why the fuck would gwyn keep around someone who could kill him and everything he’s been working for? the man was so freaked out over the idea of the age of gods ending and losing power that he threw himself on a pyre and invented a new way to suffer to prolong the inevitable. why is there a black knight, gwyn’s most trusted troops, protecting the doll and one of three berenike troops in the entire game protecting priscilla herself? the answer is the same reason why he kept gwyndolin in spite of her snake leg deformity and simply hid her away: she’s family.

CONCLUSION: PRISCILLA IS GWYN’S GRANDDAUGHTER

Gwyn’s firstborn was erased from history for an unknown, unforgivable trespass: the amount of Mad gwyn is at his firstborn son cannot be understated; statues across lordran depicting him have been shattered, he was stripped of his godhood, and he was exiled from anor londo.

Ring of the Sun’s Firstborn - Lord Gwyn's firstborn was a god of war, but his foolishness led to a loss of the annals, and rescinding of his deific status. Today, even his name is not known.

Sunlight Blade - The power of sunlight, manifested as lightning, is very effective against dragons. When the eldest son was stripped of his deific status, he left this on his father's coffin, perhaps as a final farewell.

“foolishness” is such a weird ass turn of phrase for something that got you disowned so hard your dad forgot who you were. its so like...mild. just an observation. an example of a thing gwyn specifically might find unforgivable is fucking a dragon, as they are his mortal enemies and he just spent all that time killing them.

you DO eventually meet this son, The Nameless King, in ds3.

CONCLUSION: THE NAMELESS KING’S TRESPASS WAS SHAMEFUL ENOUGH TO HIDE WHAT HE DID AND WHO HE WAS, BUT NOT KILL HIM

The Nameless King has been deified by dragons and their worshippers: this one is so weird. by ds3 you are told outright that the nameless king “sacrificed everything to ally himself” with dragons and those who want to become them. he’s not even the first dark souls character to do it all for the nookie.

archdragon peak, a location where dragon worshippers go to begin their physical transformation, is riddled with statues of him looking badass. this is also where you fight him and his drake (it has 4 wings, but no everlasting scales) friend, the ambiguously named “king of the storm”. its not clear if the “king of the storm” is a title they share together or what the nameless king calls himself when he’s with his dragon lover or if thats the name of the dragon. regardless, killing the dragon begins the phase 2 solo fight against the nameless king. making this more confusing is that in japanese, both phases are named “the nameless king” and calls the king of the storm a wyvern instead of a stormdrake.

Lightning Storm - Once a slayer of dragons, the former king and wargod tamed a Stormdrake, on which he led a lifetime of battle. This miracle is likely a tale of their bond.

wow. love truly conquers all. gay rights!

CONCLUSION: THE NAMELESS KING IS COOL

Seath has never had sex: look at him. no way.

MY THEORY: gwyn’s firstborn, overtaken with sexual desire, fucked a dragon. the result of their copulation was priscilla, an abomination whose innate abilities made her extremely dangerous. gwyn threw his firstborn’s ass out from a combination of shame and anger, but could not bring himself to kill either. ariamis was commissioned to create a world for her, which became an all purpose dump for shit gwyn didnt want to think about any more.

AGAINST:

Priscilla is white: it’s pretty hard to ignore the fact that seath and priscilla share the same very unique skin tone...color palate? you know what i mean. the most common theory is that priscilla is the result of seath’s experiments or his daughter by way of gwynevere. what we do know about seath’s experiments is that the failed results transformed women into snake-ish creatures called pisacas. as stated many times in the series: a snake is a failed dragon (this is true in real life too). maybe one of them was successful.

BUT: there’s some problems with this, actually. for one thing priscilla isn’t albino; her eyes are white and she’s fluffy, like the everlasting dragons we do see. gwynevere married some guy named flann and booked it out of anor londo years ago.

Ring of the Sun Princess - The Princess of Sunlight Gwynevere left Anor Londo along many other deities, and later became wife to Flame God Flann.

so the gwynevere theory is out. it’s more likely that she’s a successful experiment who got too scary so she had to go in the paint. i dont really get why he was trying to turn women into dragons, if thats what he was up to. maybe he was trying to have sex. he was tired of using his j/o crystals or whatever.

Yorshka and The Painter: okay, we can assume that the painter of the next painted world, a dragon scaled young girl, is the daughter of priscilla and her weird husband mentioned in the ds3 dlc. i dont get company captain yorshka at all. i have nothing. she’s obviously a dragon crossbreed but has 2 insane things that make her completely impossible to make sense of.

first, she has fucking neck tentacles? no one else has this shit. what is that.

second, she calls herself the sister of gwyndolin. what! huh?! excuse me?

it’s insane enough that one of the dlcs revealed that gwyn had ANOTHER surprise kid who didnt get to share in the narcissistic family naming convention and was forgotten by history (filianore). but now there’s a DRAGON one?! i don’t know man. she’s inscrutable and i don’t understand her relation to the original crossbreed or why she didnt get painting’d. her existence is pretty hard to patch over with my theory. i dont think the nameless king was pumping them out and then shipping them over to gwyn for him to deal with more than once. mostly because gwyn has been dead forever by the time ds3 happens. maybe gwyndolin just handles these problems better now that shes de-facto ruler of anor londo.

well, i guess that’s all i actually have. my point with all this (besides entertaining the three people who enjoy reading DS lore) is that i can recognize the obvious flaws in my crackpot theory, yet it offers me the most satisfying answer because the idea of getting disowned for being a furry (scalie i guess) is really really funny. and as we all know, the comedy is when you need a 2 million word explainer about having sex with dragons. well. bye.