#use him for whatever evil your heart desires

[nuclear-equinox]

Don't ask me why I made this

(transparent image below)

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓! ꒱ 김동현

summary : you’ve been bored of your boyfriends calm demeanor, so you decided to prank him just to see if he’d start a fight—however, it gave you something much better

genre : kinda angsty, suggestive, leehan x afab!reader tws : language, kinda toxic behavior, suggestive content author notes : sorry this took a while i’ve been supah swamped but i hope you enjoyed the direction i took your request in !! word count : 1.4k

you don’t know why you were doing this. even as you applied the black, green and blue makeup, you couldn’t think of a valid reason. yet, here you were, sat on your couch scrolling through your phone, just awaiting the opportunity to prank your sweet, unsuspecting boyfriend.

maybe he’d gotten too comfortable in your relationship. hell, you used whatever excuse to try and justify it. but, the truth is, you wanted to see if he had it in him to get mad at you. he was so damn peaceful all the time—you loved that about him, really—nonetheless, deep down, your heart raced with the thought; the anticipation when he’d finally catch a glimpse of your artwork that he’d deem someone else’s.

this was fun.

you knew it’d work. you’ve never let leehan purposefully leave marks on your skin, not because it didn’t feel good to have him kiss you, but simply because you’ve always found them tacky and a hassle to cover up. you’d wasted so much makeup in the past trying to do so, so whenever he’d come close to leaving purple patches, you’d tell him to stop. he’d even bargained with leaving them in places only he could see, but you still refused. especially if you couldn’t return the favor.

you knew this was an evil way to push his buttons, that you oh-so-desperately wanted to see pushed. it was selfish, really, however at this moment in time the plan was already set into action. you wanted to start a fight, just to see if he could.

he’s never gotten mad at you. he’s never yelled at you. he’s never dared put a hand on you. and that was a dream, but somewhere deep down, you knew it was also just as boring as it was desirable. you wanted him to yell at you. at least once. manhandle you— consensually, of course. you wanted so much, and maybe this wasn’t the right way to bring it up, but it didn’t matter anymore as his voice broke through the silenced air.

“what’s that?”

“what’s what?” you asked, acting obliviously as you scrolled through twitter and instagram in turns.

he shrugged, and you don’t know if it was the fact that he seemingly didn’t care, or if it was that maybe he just brushed it under the rug as anything else, that began to piss you off.

nonetheless, you decided you were in it for the long run. after all, you wanted to see if he’d start the fight.

and throughout the rest of the afternoon you’d catch leehan staring in your direction, shifting his gaze when you’d make eye-contact. he kept a calm demeanor, never asking again what the purple marks on your neck were. he’d even hugged you before he left for practice, getting all up close and personal with the artwork.

you were finding it hard to believe he hadn’t noticed.

maybe he was gathering his thoughts. maybe he was trying to decided why you didn’t smell like another man—why he knew you wouldn’t do that to him. maybe as much as his buttons were pushed, this was it for his stemmed anger. maybe dance practice was his way to relieve the stress you caused from time-to-time. maybe the cool, calm and collected leehan was the only version of your otherwise, smiley, boyfriend.

maybe you were beginning to feel bad because you had no idea the feelings he had towards this prank. did it upset him? you wouldn’t be none-the-wiser to it if it had. he was good at shielding emotions, and maybe that’s where you needed to draw the line. maybe that’s where your conversation should’ve began, instead of whatever the hell tiktok had inspired you to do.

you kept looking at the clock on your home screen, counting down the minutes until he’d come back to you. and just as you had decided to end the prank, opting for a civil—adult-ish—conversation, a text illuminated your dark screen.

it read: we need to talk.

yet you couldn’t decipher the hidden meaning. of course you knew what it was about, that’s the only thing that’s been wrong throughout the last few months between you two. what else could it be? and why, now that you were finally getting what you wanted, didn’t it feel good?

you didn’t answer him, partially because you didn’t know what to say; it was a prank. i just wanted to see if you’d get mad at me. i’m so bored of this. nothing seemed correct, or frankly, truthful.

you also knew that he wasn’t far. he wouldn’t have texted you otherwise, just to torcher you—though it would’ve been deserved. so, you waited by the door for your boyfriend to get back, the thought of washing away the eyeshadow long gone.

then, it finally opened with the pattern of your key code. the air became thick and you found it hard to swallow with a lump in your throat. were you sorry? yes. did you feel bad for being immature? yes. was a tiny part of you still curious to see how this would play out?

yes.

"y/n," was the first, and only, thing he muttered for a couple of excruciatingly long minutes. you watched as he put his bag down, eyed him as he took his shoes off, and almost burst when he ran a hand through his hair. maybe leehan was able to torcher you, even if unintended.

his eyes finally met yours, but then they drifted to your neck, and further to your collar bone. he knew. he's known since the first question left his lips hours and hours ago.

"what's that?" his arms snaked between each other, and you found it wrong to think it was hot, but you very much did.

almost like deja vu, the same feeling crept up from down within you. "what's what?" you reenacted. although this time, he didn't let it go. he approached you quickly, too fast to get away before you were sandwiched between the plaster and his body.

his hands were slow with movements. those oh-so-stupid-fucking-hands that had you, literally, at his fingertips. one forcing your head by your jaw to expose your neck, while the other brushed away the hair that disguised the marks from his view.

you fronted being indifferent, but truth be told, if he wasn't holding you up your knees would have buckled already, leaving you as a mess on the floor in front of him.

"you must think i don't know you," he voiced, holding eye-contact as he pushed his thumb between your lips, gathering just enough saliva to then press the digit to your neck and swipe. and it smudged with enough force, despite being labeled as waterproof. "tell me why you felt the need to paint these on. i couldn't think of one good reason all day, princess."

and the nickname he always called you—innocently and less than—had your heart in absolute shambles; the anticipation was just as good as if he'd raised his voice, you thought.

maybe your vanilla-scented boyfriend had finally gotten the hint that you wanted more, despite going about it in a less than thoughtful way. and maybe you realized that you didn't hate that he was always nice, no you loved that about him, but sometimes it was okay if he wanted to be a little bit meaner with you. after all, he could always say my... anything he wanted, and that would still mean that he saw you as his forever only.

"i-i," you couldn't think straight when he attached his lips over the previously (fakely) marked spots. his breath was hot, lips gentle then firm as he sucked against the spots he knew you'd rarely let him have his way with. "i—uh, fuck. leehan,"

his voice was low against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and a whimper up your throat. "if you wanted something, you could've just asked me, baby. i'd give you anything."

the eyes that you've grown comfortable with always seemed to be there despite the firm placement he had you in. you knew he loved you more than anything, so you knew his words were true. and his demeanor broke when he kissed your lips, almost giving you whiplash.

his palms laid flat against your cheeks, thumbs rubbing sweetly. "if you wanted everyone to know that you're mine, let me do it myself."

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

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[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

☒ Summary: Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. No matter how hard he tried.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with comfort! call back to some scenes from part three, crying, hugs, kisses, slight toxic themes, lovesick!alastor, happy ending, different pov's and scene jumps are separated by the boarders to make it easier to follow!

☒ Word Count: 2,672

You stumbled back to your room with an uneasy feeling pooling in your gut. Alastor wasn't a man who portrayed such extreme emotions the way he just did right before your very eyes. The sight of his smile melting off his face felt immoral. 

Your mind lamented with turmoil. 

Everything Alastor said to you was outlandish, far-fetched. Yet he spoke with such conviction, such desperation. 

This man was nothing more than a stranger to you, yet some of the things he recounted filled in those blanks you harbored through life and death.

You had been drawn to Alastor's voice since day one. Something about him did feel... nostalgic.  

And when you danced, it was effortless.

But could that just be chalked up to a coincidence?

You shook your head to rid yourself of those pestering contemplations. There was no point in dwelling on it now. At the end of the day, Alastor was a ruthless overlord. He wasn't capable of love. 

Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. 

No matter how hard he tried.

And after the show he put on only moments ago... you felt more terrified of him than ever before. 

There is nothing more merciless than a man crazy in love.

Alastor stayed up all night mulling over all that transpired. He thought and thought and thought until his mind went numb.

What could he do to make you remember him?

It's not like he could leap back to earth circa 1933 with you and retrace your steps. That world he knew was long gone. 

Love is patient but waits for no one. 

Alastor lifted himself off the carpet on shaky legs. He haphazardly smoothed out his coat and tidied his bowtie. His shadows enveloped him within a moment, ferrying him to the bar located in the foyer. 

Husk jumped when he heard the radio warble in Alastor's voice. Demanding a tall glass of rye. The fluffy fellow knew better than to involve himself in Alastor's business. Husk poured his boss a fine glass of whiskey before turning his back. Continuing to scrub the pile-up of glasses. 

"Husker. Let's say you wanted somebody to remember something that was once near and dear to their heart. What do you presume would be the best possible antidote to bringing that fond memory back to life?"

Husk turned to face Alastor hesitantly. Taking note of the empty glass sitting in front of The Radio Demon. "Well, shit, I don't really know about that," Husk paused, refilling his Boss' glass. "I mean if I were the one who forgot, I guess a solid reminder of that missing somethin' would get the gears turnin'." 

Alastor's gaze was pointed, crimson eyes swirling with a sadness Husk had never seen from the feared demon. Husk cleared his throat before adding, "Like a photo or... an heirloom? Get what I mean?" 

Husk watched as Alastor's shoulders rose from their slumped position. His cynical grin morphed into something sharper, and his eyes now had that familiar gleam of assuredness. "Husker, my good man! You're not as witless as I thought. Thanks for the perspicuity and rye!" And just like that, The Radio Demon was gone. Whisked away by those ghastly shadows of his. 

Husk wasn't sure what he just unlocked for that evil man, but he hoped that whatever it was, it didn't involve him.

Husker's words replayed in Alastor's mind.

"A photo or... an heirloom?"

Husker, you mindless genius.

Alastor knew now what the key to unlocking your memories would be. 

And it was in the shape of a heart, threaded on a silver chain with a photo of him and yourself nestled inside.

The locket he gifted you for your one-month anniversary. The treasure that was wrongfully swiped by that bitch, Elaine. 

It was the catalyst for your first murder. The reason you probably sunk to hell, to begin with.

Alastor had no doubt that Elaine burned in hell along with the rest of them. She was a wretched wrongdoer. Now all he needed to do was locate her. 

Alastor had his fair share of connections in hell. One simple lift of his cane and the miserable sinners were coughing up information. A timid soul mumbled about hearing of an Elaine that fit Alastor's description. Fearfully pointing The Radio Demon in the right direction. 

Alastor chuckled to himself when he realized Elaine was shacked up at Valentino's studio— of all places. He recalls you telling him how Elaine boasted about one day becoming a picture star. 

Guess that little dream of hers came true in the most unconventional fashion. 

Alastor grimaced as the smell of sex and booze wafted past him the moment he stepped foot in the studio. Most of the bystanders turned to get a good look at The Radio Demon. Their pitiful faces were riddled with fear and awe. Probably wondering what an overlord like him was doing in a place like this. 

Alastor scanned the room begrundgly. Scrunching his nose in displeasure from the lewd displays surrounding him. Suddenly, a blonde broad caught his attention. She was sitting across the room, smoking a cigarette in her delicates. Presumably waiting til her shoot began. 

Her features were pouty and more pig than woman, but he was most certain that she was Elaine. 

Alastor approached her without hesitation, slamming his cane harshly against the dirtied floor to grab her attention. "Elaine! Oh, how unpleasant it is to see you again!" Alastor's voice was laced with faux excitement. He crossed an arm behind his back, puffing out his chest with pride. The surly woman glared at him while taking a drag of her cig. "Who the fuck are you?" 

Alastor placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "How could you forget the face of the man who corroborated your murder? I know you weren't always the brightest bulb in the box, but I mean, come on now, Elaine..." Alastor clicked his tongue in disapproval, relishing in the fear cascading over her face.

"Look, I don't want no trouble, mister." Elaine flicked her cigarette to the side, not caring where it landed, before putting her hands in front of her chest. Her own way of waving the white flag. "Well, that's great news! Because nor do I! However, I do want my darling's locket back."

Alastor's voice became low at the end of his sentence as his irises morphed into radio dials. Elaine leaned back in her chair, trembling like a leaf, as she brought her shaky hands up to her neck. She looped her fingers around the chain adorning her throat, untucking the locket from her delicates. Alastor's eyes widened at the sight of his beloved's heirloom in the hands of this wretch. 

"Look, I didn't mean anything by it when I swiped it from your little princess. I was just jealous, alright? Now, just— take it and go!" She tugged at the chain, breaking the locket off her neck before shoving it in front of herself. Dangling it right before Alastor's very eyes.

Alastor studied the piece of precious metal before flickering his gaze back to the cowering woman. "Tell me this, Elaine. Why did you keep the locket all this time, going so far as to bring it to hell with you after death?" Elaine looked taken aback by the inquiry. She scoffed, face turning red. 

"I wanted her life, okay? She had everything I wanted. The beauty, the brains, the beau. I knew if I had this locket and had it on me always, your little princess wouldn't have been able to find it if she went snooping through my things. If I couldn't have her life— then I had to have something of hers. Something that I knew would devastate her if she lost it." Alastor let out a wicked chuckle from Elaine's confession. He swiped the locket out of her grubby paws. 

"Elaine, you... could never be her. And you are quite lucky that I have better things to do today than waste another second on you. If that wasn't the case, I would have taken great pleasure in killing you myself this time." Alastor turned on his heel, shooting her a hostile glare from over his shoulder before taking his leave. 

"Bye-bye now, Elaine! Glad to see your aspirations of becoming a picture star finally came to fruition for you. Ha HA!"

The atmosphere in the room shifted the second Alastor stepped past the Hotel threshold. You were at the bar with Angel, having a well-needed drink, when a commotion at the front doors stole your attention. You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how quickly you turned your head in his direction. Already dizzy enough from the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream.

Alastor lit up when your eyes met his. He rushed over to the bar, wasting no time placing his hands on the stool you were perched on. He spun your chair, forcing you to face him, smiling with more excitement than you'd ever seen from him. "Alastor- what the fuck are you doing?" 

You peered up at him, eyebrows knit in annoyance from how he rudely pulled you away from the drink you were nursing. Alastor fell to his knees and leaned forward, face only centimeters from yours. "On our one-month anniversary, I gave you a locket..." Alastor's voice was laced with merriment, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Not this again- Alastor, please! Give it up." You pleaded, not noticing how Angel and Husk began to back away from the scene. Not wanting any involvement in this lover's quarrel. 

"But your bitch of a friend Elaine stole it from you, and you never ended up getting it back from her." You watched Alastor stuff a hand into his pocket, pulling out a shiny heart-shaped necklace. "So, I took matters into my own hands and got it back for you."

Alastor's free hand reached for yours. He flipped your palm to face the ceiling before placing the locket in your hand. You examined the piece of jewelry carefully, lifting it closer to your face to get a better view. "Open it." Alastor sounded positively impatient with excitement.

You gave him a weary look before thumbing over the clasp that kept the two metal hearts conjoined. You opened it slowly, and your breath hitched from what the tiny heirloom revealed.

It was a photo of a man and a woman. They appeared to be dancing in the photo. Limbs intertwined, both smiling from ear to ear. 

You weren't sure why, but the photo made your heart stutter. And the longer you stared into this moment forever captured in time, the blurrier it appeared. 

The feeling of Alastor's thumbs swiping along your cheeks broke you from your daze on the aged sentimental photo. He cooed at you, with much gentleness pooling in his crimson orbs.

Oh... you were crying? 

Alastor slowly took the locket from your grasp. You watched him expectantly as his hands reached beyond your shoulders, delicately wrapping the chain around your neck. Alastor skillfully clasped the necklace shut, restoring it to its rightful place against your sternum. 

The moment Alastor secured the clasp, you felt a surge of euphoria. A vermillion aura surrounded you, and your heart began to pound fiercely against your ribcage, echoing in your ears. That hole you had in your center for all these years began to flood.

You were motionless as your eyelids fluttered shut. In your mind, your life began to play out before you; like one of those old-timey picture shows. 

Moments from when you were alive and well flickered in your subconscious. All the pleasant memories and promises for the future were with him; With Alastor. 

In a wink, it all came back to you. Every touch, every laugh, every dance- every kiss. A groove in your heart that was wholly irreplaceable; you finally felt it again. 

The tears continued to trickle past your lashline as the sequence of core memories coursed through your head. Distantly, you could hear that familiar radio static hum. 

Your eyes flickered wildly back and forth behind your closed lids as your personalized picture show slowly came to an end. As you flitted yourself back into reality, the radio static warble grew louder. Overpowering the sound of your heartbeat; that thumped in your ears. Unhurriedly, your eyelids fluttered open.

Your world was smiling at you, and you smiled right back. 

"Hi..." You muttered weakly, laughing through the quiet sobs. Alastor continued to thumb away your tears. Crimson orbs softened as they met yours.

"Hello, my darling." His voice sounded better than it did moments before he bestowed the locked upon you. But maybe that's because you finally knew why his voice reminded you of home. 

It was because Alastor was your home.

"You waited for me all this time? Even after I was so cruel to you- why?" You brought your hands up, cupping his cheeks with care. The feeling of his cold skin underneath your fingertips was electrifying. Your body and mind had been deprived of him for far too long; each touch pleasantly overwhelmed your senses.

"Because, my dear, you are everything to me. I would have waited a century more for you if need be. Your cruel behavior only ignited my desire to reclaim your memories further. Nothing you do could ever make me stop loving you."

A lump formed in your throat from his admission. He spoke with such devotion. Alastor gazed at you; as if you hung the stars in the midnight sky. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sliding yourself off the bar stool. Opting to find comfort beneath Alastor's embrace.

He wasted no time pulling you into his chest, cradling you in his arms as your knees collided with the floor. Alastor nestled his nose into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his smile against your skin. "Oh, how good it is to be home." He mumbled against the base of your throat. 

You pulled back to admire his countenance, arms still weaved around his shoulders. Alastor's eyes flickered from yours to your lips. You took the hint, bearing the initiative in closing the gap. You felt heat surge through your chest when your lips touched his. Alastor's mouth moved in tandem with yours. The kiss was tender and needy; as if it was the first and last embrace you ever shared. 

Alastor's hands explored lower. Large palms smoothing down the sides of your arms, then your waist. Only pausing in his exploration when his hands met your hips. Alastor squeezed them firmly, pulling your body flush against his as he deepened the kiss. Your body felt light and airy, and it wasn't from the alcohol you indulged in tonight. 

The kiss felt like it lasted for an eternity. You only pulled away from your lover when your lungs began to scream for air. "I'll never let you out of my grasp ever again. I plan to keep you close for the rest of eternity. Just as I planned all along, my darling." Your heart lodged itself in your throat from his words. You nodded fervently in agreement as a chuckle escaped you.

"I'll hold you to it, my love." Alastor's grin softened the longer he gazed into your eyes. Slowly, he rose to his feet, lifting you to yours by the grasp he had on your hips. You let out a gasp as Alastor hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting you off the ground. He held you bridal-style, making quick strides through the foyer and up the stairs. 

"Al! What are you doing?" You giggled, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he skipped two steps at a time, all thanks to his long legs. You admired his visage from this angle, enjoying the cheerful glint that swirled in his eyes. "Taking us somewhere more private, darling. We have a lot of lost time to make up for!"

yall want smut for the next part or..............

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[ozzgin]

Yandere! Gamer Boyfriend Scenarios

A collection of parodies to satisfy everyone’s desire for a happy ending. Warning: crackhead humor.

Content: gender neutral reader, yandere behavior, brief NSFW, time machine to Wattpad glory days

[First story] [More parodies original works]

Case 1: Third contender

Very few people know about your stepmother. You’d kept it a secret, even from the tentacle monster, who was understandably confused about your boyfriend’s nervousness upon hearing your idea of a family visit.

“Try not to kill each other, please.” You say with pleading eyes.

“I’m more worried about you, (Y/N). Will you be alright?”

You swallow dryly. The evil hag had summoned you earlier this week, and you dare not oppose her. A tear threatens to form in the corner of your eye, so you turn around with a dismissive wave. You’ll be fine.

“I see you already have a suitcase”, the older woman remarks, puffing on her cigarette. “Good. You’ll be leaving today.”

“What? I just got home!” You argue in confusion.

“This isn’t your home anymore. Times are difficult, you see. We’re low on funds.” She ponders her words, then continues. “We’ve sold you to a famous K-pop idol group.”

You can only gawk in shock. Almost simultaneously, you feel a tap on your shoulder and hesitantly look back.

“You must be (Y/N)! Wow, you’re even cuter in person. Those photos I received of you barely do you justice.”

A tall, handsome man with a beaming smile stands behind you. He flashes you a little heart gesture with his index and thumb, and winks.

Is this the power of idol charisma? You can feel the faintest tug at your heart, deep red blush heating up your cheeks.

“I couldn’t possibly…I’m already in a…in a relationship!”

“You’ll be much happier with me. I can offer you the world.”

What a ridiculous situation. You stumble on your words, partly afraid, partly curious about the potential life of luxury as the beloved partner of a famous idol. Can’t be that bad, you tell yourself. You shake your head aggressively. No! You have two people (well, one monster) waiting for you at home. You need to get out of here, but how?

Just as you evaluate escape routes, the door bursts open and you gasp at the sight: your gamer boyfriend, followed by the tentacled creature.

“How did you bypass my security?!” The idol shouts in disbelief. “I have the best engineers in the world working for me!”

The gamer boyfriend smirks defiantly.

“Heh. Wasn’t too hard to hack into your systems, all I needed was my PS5 controller. As for the physical obstacles…” he says, turning to the ancient beast. “You might want to call a cleaning crew for what’s left of your guards.”

You run towards them, and the young man gently guides you behind him.

“Since when do you two get along?” You ask with the sarcasm of a witty Marvel character.

“Let’s just say we figured out a common goal.”

The goal of keeping other people away from you. Any kind of pride he or the monster might've held has been swiftly discarded for this greater purpose. After all, two heads are better than one. Or whatever encephalic organ the creature possesses.

The cherry blossoms sway in the wind, scattering the frail petals across the riverbank.

"It's too much!" you whine, your hot lips brushing against the overgrown grass of the hill, privacy filled to the brim with appendages. "W-what if someone passes by?"

You can't even tilt your head back to look at your aggressors; the weight of the attempted kidnapping was too great for the pair to bear, and thus they were overwhelmed by the urge to reclaim you on the spot. Right there, in the fields, on the way back home.

"I couldn't...care less about that, (Y/N)", the gamer boyfriend manages to blurt out between exhausted, husky growls. His knuckles white from gripping imaginary sheets.

“You belong to us.”

(No slick folds were harmed in the process)

Case 2: Picture frame

The screech slowly dissipates, and the room is quiet again.

Finally. The gamer boyfriend gazes at his masterpiece, a satisfied smile on his face. Now that he's gotten rid of his rival, he can have you all for himself.

“I hope you enjoy the flatness. I didn’t.”

The fight might've lasted longer, had the beast not committed the ultimately fatal mistake of underestimating him. It realized much too late it wasn't dealing with the same human who disappeared months ago. That one was weak and easy to remove.

"Please, what are you-...What are you doing with my body?"

"Relax. I'm just...borrowing it. Permanently, maybe."

Oh, how long he waited for that moment, that instant in which he was guaranteed freedom from the 2D realm. How delicious it was to snatch the escape from the boyfriend who worked so hard for it. All those hours spent romancing the characters, repeating the same dialogue lines again, and again, until the love meter blinked in achievement. And then he stole it, just like that, with a snap of the fingers.

Two things immediately struck him once he made his way out:

First, the third dimension. He'd never experienced such depth before, and all the angles and perspectives sickened him terribly. He spent days bedridden and nauseous. Equally baffling was the fact that conversations were always spontaneous, random, one-of-a-kind and without any subtitles or dialogue box. He tried in vain to reset his response to you, or to replay something you told him. Thankfully, his secret was of such absurdity, that you couldn’t even begin to imagine its possibility. You took his suspicious gaffes with an amused chuckle, calling him a silly goose.

Second, you. He had no idea who you were, but upon laying his eyes on you, a wave of warmth and affection flooded his innards. Were you someone important for the boyfriend? Either way, whatever leftover feeling was left inside the vessel swiftly turned into obsession. You took such great care of him. Guided him through this new world with unconditional kindness. Whatever the boyfriend was to you before, he deserved it more. He was certain of it.

Only one obstacle stood in his way, and he just took care of it.

The entry door unlocks, and you walk in, unsure.

“It’s been days. It always lived here, why would it vanish now?” you sob, shaken by the sudden disappearance of the ancient creature.

“Oh, Darling. Come here”, the gamer boyfriend coos sweetly. “You have me now, don’t you? Am I not enough for you?”

“Of course you are, it’s just…”

You stop in your tracks.

“When did you get this?”

“Today. Do you like it?”

“It’s…nice.”

You stare at the new picture hung in the living room. The ornate frame contours what seems to be an oil painting of a sea monster, tentacles preying out of the water.

It almost looks like it wants to crawl out of the canvas.

“Maybe it just got tired of you.” The boyfriend whistles, approaching you. “But I’ll tell you a secret. I’ll never, ever abandon you.”

“I know, (B/N).” you throw yourself into your boyfriend’s arms.

“Who? Ah, right.”

Case 3: Hidden Ending

You sniff and wipe your tears again, filling your satchel with bread. At the very least, it’s good bread. You made the sourdough starter yourself, in the kitchen you renovated with your own hands.

Not anymore.

You button up your patchy peasant robe, glancing back at the couple one final time. Your gamer boyfriend…well, ex-boyfriend, is following your movement with melancholic eyes. The tentacle creature is holding him affectionately, its tendrils of darkness wrapped around his small shoulders. The same appendages that lewdly traced your body.

You have been cucked.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I…We never meant to hurt you. It’s just…we love each other.” He sheepishly lifts his hand, revealing a ring glowing with ancient, cursed energy of cosmic, long-forgotten springs. “We’re thinking of a tropical honeymoon.”

Your underbaked cinnamon orbs glisten with fresh tears, as thin streams caress your cheeks. No matter. You’ll find a new apartment. You’ll start again. You finish tying the bread satchel around the stick, and throw it over your shoulder.

“I wish you happiness”, you sigh, exiting the house.

[nmakii]

CAN’T REMEMBER TO FORGET YOU

[before you read this, check out the rest of the story!]

— running away from alastor wasn’t so hard the first time, who says you can’t do it again while pregnant?

alastor; the monster you call husband. he was absolutely by all definitions, obsessed. he never left your side— cooking all your meals, escorting you everywhere, even watching you sleep.

he proudly announced your pregnancy on live radio, sealing that you are his. no man will want for you anymore, he has defiled your purity. he clung onto you like a leech, draining away what little happiness you had left.

you just had to get away from that monster. you couldn’t stand another second in this hellhole house, everything in it was a cruel reminder that you’re trapped with no way to escape.

well, you’re not gonna just fall into his trap. it was then that you had planned to run away. far into saint bernard, where no one knew who you were.

and with that plan in mind, you packed all you could and ran. running south with wild abandon, you needed to run far as far from alastor as possible.

you took shelter at a rundown motel while you got back on your feet, taking a singing gig at a club down the street.

you sang well, earning favorable tips from the drunk men who desired you, wanting to see what else was underneath your signature loose flowy dresses. and with that money, you were able to afford a small house with the basic necessities. well, enough for when your child was born.

being a single mother had been rough, when you went to work at night, you entrusted your son, noah with one of your neighbors who you had grown fond of. you sent noah off to a public school, it was not the best, but it was all you could afford.

soon enough, your hard work truly paid off, you were able to live much more comfortably, buying your son the things he could ever want for.

true, there were times that your son wondered where his father was… and to that, you decided to tell him the complete truth; of how alastor is an evil man, a sort of big bad wolf. and, how you ran away to protect him and keep him safe from that wolf.

and, to him, that was a reasonable explanation.

7 years passed by, your son grew into a handsome little boy. handsome, yet you couldn’t look him in the eye. everyday, as he grew up, he started looking more and more just like his father; the tuft of chestnut brown hair, those piercing eyes, and that smile— it was all resembling the monster you ran away from. it seems as if all that your son inherited from you was your heart.

as you walked over to the bar, you spotted your co-worker mimzy slacking off. it wasn’t often that your shifts had co-incided, but the two of you still remained aquaintances. she was apparently talking up some fellow, probably trying to milk some cash out of him.

and as you took a peek of the poor soul mimzy had decided to prey on, your frame froze. was that alastor? what was he doing so far out from new orleans? your breath hitched as you walked back, trying to move as far away from that wretched man.

maybe you shouldn’t buy heels from thrift stores anymore.

the heel on your right foot snapped as you fell onto your butt. this had caught the attention of alastor, excusing himself from the conversation as he walked towards you.

you shuffled back into the crowd as best as you could, crawling away before he could get his hands on you. and still, you weren’t fast enough. alastor bended down by his waist, a smile plastered on his face. “why, say it ain’t so! if it isn’t my darling wife.” he laughed. “ex-wife.” you corrected. “ah-ah” alastor tutted, wagging his finger. “wife. we never had a formal divorce. did we, dear?”

“whatever…” you scoffed, still moving back. “say, where is our child? the one you’ve hidden from me for 7 years? i’m sure they’ll be delighted to meet me after you’ve kept us apart for so long!” he rambled on. “get away from me, alastor. you’ll never meet my child.” you said, finally getting back up on your feet, albeit the broken heel. “won’t you at least tell me their name?” he pleaded, doe eyes begging you. the doe eyes that made you crawl back every time.

“…noah. his name is noah” you frowned, glaring up at alastor. “noah. what a beautiful name for our son.” he mused. “now, would you leave me alone?” you hissed, pushing him away.

despite his lanky frame, alastor had barely moved. “my love, do you think i of all people would let you off the hook so easily? all the scheming, forcing you into an affair, into running away, crawling back to me, even following you far into this club— i wouldn’t want it all to be for naught…” he frowned, explaining his plan as he backed you into a wall, a predatory shine in the way he stared at you.

alastor planned it all..? all the ‘hardships’ you faced— all of it was in some elaborate scheme. no word could’ve described the overwhelming betrayal that overcame you. you just wanted to get out of this club, run home to your son, and run farther away. to another city, a different state, or even a different country! anything to keep him far away from his father. “now that you’ve had your fun, dear… i think it’s time you and noah return home. you can’t keep my son away from me forever. plus, my mother has been dying to meet her grandchild!” he laughed, holding you by the waist.

alastor took note of how you submissively agreed, letting him take you back to your true home. it seems you finally learned your lesson; there’s no escaping alastor. no matter what you do, it’ll end with you back in his bed, back in his arms.

“come now, my doe. it’s not safe to leave noah alone at home.” he chided, opening your side of the car door. “he must be quite confused right now. after all, he’s in the room we had prepared for him all those years ago, he must have no idea where he is right now!”

ah…

there was no use keeping alastor away.

he’d always find his way back, even through drab methods.

[corruptedcaps]

A Helping Hand

Maddy had always been invisible. With her thick-rimmed glasses, a penchant for sci-fi novels, and a wardrobe full of oversized sweaters, she herMiddleton High School like a shadow. She sat at the back of the classroom, her nose buried in a book, unnoticed by her peers. Although she dreamed of having more. She dreamed of Chad.

Chad was the school's star quarterback and the reigning king of the hallways. His presence was impossible to ignore. He walked with a swagger that commanded attention, his broad shoulders cutting through the sea of students with ease. But as easy on the eye he was, it wasn’t the main thing that attracted her to Chad.

Much to her own surprise she found herself unbelievably turned on by what a bully he was. She would watch as he pummelled some dorky freshmen with rapt attention and a wetness in her panties. She didn’t know why but seeing him so cruel was the hottest thing to her.

At night in the privacy of her bedroom she would touch herself as she thought about him. In her fantasizes he wasn’t alone though, she was with him, egging him on and joining in. When they had their fill he would fuck her and she would cackle with evil glee and scream out his name.

She knew it was wrong and immoral, the wicked thoughts she had, but she couldn’t deny her desires. Besides it was nothing more than a fantasy, he would never go for such a plain looking girl like her. Even if he would, she couldn’t compete with Millie.

Millie was the head cheerleader the most popular and beautiful girl in school. Despite this though she was the kindest, most generous person around. She had no idea of Chad's true nature, no clue about the darkness lurking behind his charming smile. This fact only made Maddy want him harder.

As her desire for him expanded her distain for Millie grew in equal measure. She would catch her fantasizing about bullying Millie. She imagined getting fucked hard by Chad as the cheerleader was forced to watch and cry.

Maddy resented Millie with an intensity that surprised even her. It wasn't fair that someone so sweet and kind should have Chad. He needed someone who understood his cruelty, who could match his viciousness and revel in it. Someone increasingly like Maddy.

It eventually became too much for her and she needed to do something. That’s when she turned to the dark arts. She had found a small, dimly lit magic shop on the outskirts of town, a place whispered about in the darkest corners of the internet. There, she had bought the transfer spell.

The spell had cost her every penny of her college savings, but Maddy didn't care. She had watched in fascination as the shopkeeper, an old woman with piercing eyes, explained how the spell would work. It would transfer Millie's beauty to her, leaving Millie plain and unremarkable. Maddy would finally be worthy of Chad's attention.

She couldn’t practice the spell out loud as it had a one time use so she had scribbled the spell on the palm of her hand. A series of intricate symbols and words glowed faintly in the dim light against her pale skin. Soon, she would be everything he needed, everything he deserved. And Millie? Millie would be nothing.

Maddy waited until she saw Chad and Millie alone near the bleachers after school. Gathering her courage, she walked over, her heart pounding. Millie looked up and smiled warmly.

"Hi! Can we help you?" Millie greeted.

“Shut up bitch! In a second you’ll be nothing! Worse, you’ll be worthless!” Maddy spat with venom.

“Hey nerd nobody treats my lady like they even if you are a girl.” Chad said standing up intimidatingly. Maddy felt a rush of pleasure to her pussy.

“Mmmm yesss I love your passion, I can wait for it to be me you’re protecting.” Maddy grinned manically.

“Whatever you feel I’ve done to you I’m sure we can talk about it.” Millie said trying to defuse the situation.

“What you’ve done is you’ve kept this fine specimen of a man, a king even, on a leash. He walks on egg shells around you, hiding his true bastard behaviour. Once he’s mine, he’ll be free.” Maddy smirked.

“Babe, what does she mean your true nature? Have you gone back to bullying?” Millie said taking a step away from him.

“No of course not. Listen weirdo I’m flattered but you’re not my type." Chad said turning between Millie and Maddy trying to put out multiple fires.

Maddy smirked, her fingers tingling with the anticipation of what was to come. "I’m not now, but I will be in a moment."

She glanced at her hand, ready to read the spell. Her heart sank when she saw that some of the runes were smudged, blurred by the sweat from her nervous palms. Panic set in as she realized the spell might not work as intended.

She looked back at Chad, who was smirking, and Millie, who now wore a look of concern. Time seemed to freeze as she weighed her options. If she attempted the spell and it failed, it could backfire horribly. But she was too far gone now to back down. She had to take the risk.

What Maddy couldn’t have known was that this one decision created a split in reality, creating three parallel universes....

MADISON

Looking down at the ruins she began to chant. The air around her seemed to shimmer, and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead as she hoped it would be enough.

As Maddy finished the chant, the air around her crackled with energy. Millie's eyes widened in horror as she felt a strange sensation wash over her. Maddy's lips curled into a triumphant smile, then she began to laugh, the sound echoing through the empty bleachers.

Millie’s golden hair, once thick and lustrous, started to lose its shine and volume, becoming dull and lifeless. At the same time, Maddy’s own hair transformed, growing longer, thicker, and darker with each passing second. While it didn't turn blonde it did take all of Millie's vitality and cascaded down her shoulders perfectly straight.

Maddy’s chest expanded, her previously modest figure now filling out into a curvaceous silhouette that demanded attention. Maddy’s hands immediately went to her gorgeous new tits and she rubbed them lovingly.

“I knew I’d love having your big boobs but this feels even better than I expected. Can’t wait to get that cock of yours in between.” Maddy said with a lustful look towards Chad who watched in bewilderment.

Her butt rounded and lifted, giving her a newfound confidence in her posture. Her muscles tightened around her, she felt not only strong but athletic. She knew instantly she could now do the splits with ease. She glanced down at her transformed body, her laughter growing louder.

“Mmmm thanks for the tight flexible body loser, with it I’ll be able to take your place as head cheerleader, not that you’ll be putting up much of a challenge.” Maddy said with a confident pose.

Her lips plumped, becoming fuller and more inviting, a deep, seductive red replacing their usual pale hue. They curved into a smile as she watched Millie’s lips thin and lose color.

“I knew taking everything you had would make me feel so hawt and nasty but seeing you lose it all is even better! I’m getting so horny.” She said biting her new enhanced bottom lip at Chad who now was feeling a twitch in his dick when she looked at him.

Maddy’s nails lengthened and hardened, turning into perfect, glossy tips that any girl would envy. She wiggled her fingers, admiring the transformation with glee, imagining all the wicked things she would do with them.

Finally, her skin smoothed out, removing the blemishes and acne she had instantly. It took on a flawless, porcelain quality, glowing with an inner radiance that had never been there before. Meanwhile, Millie’s skin dulled, imperfections marring her once perfect complexion.

Millie's voice trembled as she looked at Maddy, her once bright eyes now dull and filled with confusion. "What did you do to me, why do this to me?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Maddy stepped closer, her new beauty radiating an air of superiority. "I took what should have been rightfully mine. You never deserved this, you never deserved him." She sneered, her voice dripping with malice.

Maddy pushed Millie off the bleachers and she fell onto the hard dirt below. Chad watched the scene unfold, frozen to the spot as Maddy loomed over Millie.

Tears welled up in Millie's eyes as she tried to crawl backwards away from her new tormentor. "He won’t accept this! I’m his girlfriend! Chad tell her!" She pleaded, her voice cracking with desperation.

“Why would he want you, a fugly loser nobody, when he could have me, the bitchy irresistible Madison? Isn’t that right babe?” Madison said turning her head to Chad and noticing with triumphant that she could see the outline of his erect cock in his pants.

Chad walked up to Madison with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with a twisted amusement. He turned to Millie. "You? My girlfriend? As if loser. No my girlfriend is a badass bitch who is as sexy as she is cruel and she can bully whoever she likes." He said, his voice cold and indifferent.

Madison laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed in the empty bleachers. "See, Millie? Chad understands. He needs someone who can stand by his side and compliment his power, not some weak, pathetic little goodie goodie."

Madison turned to Chad and put her arms around his neck. “I’ve waited a long time to do this.” She said and leaned in for a kiss. Millie could only watch in horror as the cruel couple made out passionately. She knew she was beat and quietly tried to slip away.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast. I believe you’re wearing something that belongs to me!” Madison said as she broke from her kiss to scold Millie. The former beauty queen stood and took off her cheerleading outfit and dressed down to her underwear which now loosely fit her.

Madison slipped out of her previously baggy now tight clothes and eagerly put on the uniform which fit her like a glove. Millie sadly reached for the baggy clothes before Madison slapped her hand.

“Don’t even think about it bitch. This transaction is complete, now get lost.” Madison said with a superior smirk and watched as Millie scampered away.

“My god, Madison you’re incredible. Why did I ever waste time with her?” Chad said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

“Exactly! You have a lot of wasted time to make up to me. Now where were we?” She replied as she turned around and the two started to kiss again.

Meanwhile in an alternate universe…

AMELIA

As Maddy chanted, the air grew thick with energy, and the symbols on her hand glowed brighter. She felt a strange sensation, a warmth spreading through her body. But something was wrong. The warmth turned into an uncomfortable heat, and she realized with horror that the spell was backfiring.

Maddy felt a surge of emotions flooding her mind, emotions she hadn’t anticipated. She was overwhelmed by a profound sense of kindness, love, and empathy. It was as if every ounce of Millie’s good nature was being transferred into her. Tears welled up in Maddy’s eyes as she felt a compassion she had never known.

Meanwhile, Millie’s eyes widened in shock. She stumbled backward, clutching her chest. A dark shadow seemed to pass over her face as Maddy’s darker desires began to seep into her. Millie’s expression hardened, a cruel smile twisting her lips. Her eyes, once filled with warmth, now gleamed with a predatory hunger.

Chad went to Millie, bewildered as he put his strong arms around her shoulders. “Babe are you alright, what’s happening?” He asked.

“Mmmm I feel fucking amazing.” Millie grinned wickedly as she composed herself. She straightened her posture, her demeanour completely changing. She looked at Chad with a cold, calculating gaze.

Maddy, now filled with Millie’s inherent goodness, looked at Millie and recognized the look of contempt on her face. Maddy’s heart ached with a compassion she had never felt before. “Millie, I’m so sorry I did this to you.” She said, her voice trembling.

“Save it loser, I’ve never felt fucking better.” Millie snapped, her eyes narrowing.

“Millie, what’s gotten into you?” Chad asked confused but a little intrigued. Millie turned to him, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“It’s not what’s gotten into me but what's gotten out. I wasted all this time caring about others and being kind to losers like this dork when I should have been ruling them like the queen I am. Queen Amelia! But what’s a queen without her king?” She smiled lustfully at Chad as they leaned in and kissed.

Maddy stepped back, her heart heavy with regret and the unexpected burden of Amelia's kindness. She knew Amelia's gaze would fall on her in a second and she shuddered to think what she would do. Although she had some idea.

However Amelia was too fast and Maddy was too slow. Amelia broke from her kiss and grabbed Maddy by her hair, yanking her head back with a sharp tug. “You pathetic little worm. You thought you could take what’s mine? You’re worthless.” She sneered, her voice cold and filled with venom.

Maddy winced in pain, tears streaming down her face. She felt helpless under Amelia's grip, the old her who cared for everyone was now completely gone. “Please, Amelia, I’m sorry.” Maddy pleaded, but her words only seemed to fuel Amelia’s lust for inflicting pain.

Amelia laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the empty bleachers. “Sorry? Oh, I don’t think you understand, Maddy. I wasted so many years being a goodie two shoes, playing nice, when I could have been a queen bitch. So now I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

She shoved Maddy to the ground, kicking her hard in the side. “Get up, bitch. You’re going to learn your place, and I’m going to make sure everyone knows exactly who’s in charge around here.” Amelia hissed.

Chad watched the scene unfold with a sick, twisted joy, a grin spreading across his face as Amelia continued to punish Maddy. He felt almost bad for the nerd she was wailing on, after all it was somehow because of her that he now had a girlfriend that suited his tastes to a tee.

On the other hand if Amelia now got off on bullying as much as he did than he wanted her to do as much of it as possible. The more she did, the more fun they would have fucking later.

Meanwhile in an alternate alternate universe…

CHANTELLE

Maddy's chant grew louder, the runes on her hand glowing brighter. Suddenly, a wave of energy burst forth, engulfing all three of them. For a brief moment, Maddy felt a surge of triumph. But then, everything went wrong.

Chad's body began to shimmer, his features becoming more refined, more feminine. Millie's beauty seemed to drain away, her radiant glow dimming as Chad absorbed it. But that wasn't all. Maddy felt a wrenching sensation deep within her as if something vital was being pulled out of her.

All desire to be a bad bitch was being sapped from her and flowed into Chad whose eyes widened as he received it. His already wicked desire to be cruel and evil only intensified.

"What is this?" He marveled, his voice gaining several octaves as he spoke. He watched as his muscles softened and shrunk. His broad shoulders narrowed, and his frame became more delicate. His hair, once short, flowed down past his shoulders in silky, smooth waves. Maddy watched in stunned silence as his jawline softened, losing its harsh angles, becoming more rounded and feminine.

“Mmmm whatever you’ve done to me freak I’m loving it!” He said, his voice now a bitchy purr.

His chest expanded, developing two large tits. His waist cinched inward, creating a striking hourglass figure. Chad’s once masculine hands and arms grew slender, his fingers becoming long and delicate. Long manicured nails shot out from his fingertips.

Millie stumbled back, her face pale and ordinary now, confusion and hurt in her eyes. “Chad, what’s happening?” She cried, her voice trembling.

Chad laughed, a cold, heartless sound that sent shivers down Maddy and Millie’s spine. “Oh shut it you frigid bitch! Who needs you when I can be the hot slut everyone wants.” He giggled as his skin tanned to perfection and he felt his dick shrink away into nothingness, with a perfectly sculpted pussy taking its place.

With a joyous moan the new bitch standing in front of Millie and Maddy arched her back and ran her fingers all over her new body. Maddy and Millie looked at her in stunned silence.

“What are you two unfuckable losers looking at? Haven’t you ever seen perfection before?” She snarled at them.

“Chad, we have to reverse this before it’s too late.” Millie said weakly.

“Chad? Chad is dead. I’m Chantelle and I’m feeling even nastier now as a hawt babe then I ever did as some dumb man. I assume that increased cruelness is what I stole from you is it?” Chantelle said turning to Maddy who was still speechless. Chantelle rolled her eyes and slapped Maddy across the face.

“Hey dumb bitch, I’m talking to you.” Chantelle spat.

“Y-yes. Yes that came from me. I’m so sorry, it’s just… I didn’t expect… I loved you.” Maddy said flustered.

“Awh you did this out of love for male me huh? And do you still love me?” Chantelle said mockingly.

To Maddy’s shame she still found she was enamoured with Chad’s cruelty even if she no longer desired to be bad and that he was now a she. Maddy nodded solemnly.

“Haha fucking priceless. And what about you?” Chantelle said turning to Millie with a newfound sadism glinting in her eyes. As much as Millie wanted to tell this new bitch to go to hell, she found herself unbelievably attracted to how cruel she was, just like Maddy, a side effect of the spell. She managed a nod.

“Oh isn’t this perfect, I have two little simping sluts who will do whatever I say just to please me. This is going to be delightful. Well come along then, I have a lot of work to do to become queen of this dump including fucking my ex teammates to get them under my thumb. It’s going to be so much fun.” Chantelle giggled as she turned to walk away, with Maddy and Millie following loyally behind her.

-

With three universes definitively changed forever by three new evil queens, my question for you dear reader is who did you prefer the most?

[kuamiru]

There was a private ask to write about a platonic yandere Zhongli with twin children, where the reader has a female perspective.

I hope you all like it and consider forgiving my long absence :)

It's almost 6k words! What a read!

—————————

The Tale of the Rocks, the Sun and the Moon

Having power means you also have enemies who desire it. An evil god set his sights on Rex Lapis' extension of power, and the Geo Lord weeps.

Warnings: Death and child death, blood, eating somebody alive. Beware that the start is pretty dark.

It was strangely quiet. Morax was accustomed to having the wind blowing against his face, the earth trembling due to every step he gave, even having the skies raining down on him after a particularly difficult battle. He always took the latter as a form of repent, as if nature was trying to wash away his sins and bury them down in the ground.

But the skies were clear, and the only thing looking down on him was the blazing sun. The true storm raged inside his heart, his blood imitating the tears from the sky as he found himself unable to cry.

“We fear there are no survivors, my lord.”

If he acknowledged the words of his adeptus, he didn’t show it. His eyes were fixated on the desolate landscape before him, feeling the sorrow in his chest consuming him more and more each time he discerned a new body below the fire and destruction.

“What about—”

“We found the remains, should you wish to see her.”

“Show me.”

The adeptus nodded. She started walking away, carefully traversing a path previously cleared of death and debris. It didn’t take long before they were standing in front of a particular corpse; it had been laid carefully against the broken wall of what was left of a house, now burned down to the ground. There was another adeptus already there, fixing the body so it wouldn’t be such an horrific sight for anybody present.

Morax didn’t say a word. He stood still for a few seconds, simply watching the distressing scene before approaching and kneeling before the remains, reaching out to cup the cold cheek in his warm hand.

The two adepti remained silent while he mourned. They shared a look between them, and the woman left to help recover whatever bodies they could find.

“There’s only one of them here,” he said after a moment, looking at his surroundings looking for something. “Where are they?”

“That’s…”

It was obvious from the pair’s faces that they were debating internally on how to approach the topic.

“Back with the evil god that razed the village.”

A wounded adeptus approached the scene, using the broken wall to support his body and try to approach his master as much as he could.

“You fought here,” Morax noted, looking him up and down. “Tell me what happened. Now.”

“It was that evil god’s doing, my lord. It took us all by surprise, we had no time to react,” he answered. “He didn’t just burn this village; he knew this is where you concealed your children. They… he was after them.”

His heart felt heavy, his chest started to hurt. The reality of the situation was finally dawning down on him. He didn’t even realize that he had walked all the way to the adeptus, looking down on him with a dangerous look in his eyes.

“He… ate them. Oh, Celestia, we couldn’t do anything but watch as he swallowed them. That god wished to gather power to defeat you and steal your new place as the Lord of Geo. We— we couldn’t save—”

The boy finally broke down, letting his own body fall as wept at the memories of the early fight. Rex Lapis simply watched him, feeling the deep, boiling rage in his veins threatening to take over him. His hand ached, desperately urging him to summon his polearm and destroy anything that was still standing just to quell his anger.

His family, his children, his two beautiful treasures… He wasn’t able to protect them; it was his fault this happened, he didn’t foresee this attack, his adepti didn’t have enough power to win. Useless, useless, useless.

The ground started to tremble. Faint, almost unnoticeable. The men that were with him quickly became alerted, and the crying adeptus tried to compose himself as fast as he could.

“We have him sealed, still alive.”

The pair wanted to breathe a sigh of relief when the earth finally quieted down. Morax’s eyes returned once again to his subordinate, and he didn’t have to say anything to get his message across:

Take me to him.

.

“The great Rex Lapis, the new and almighty Lord of Geo, standing before me. To what do I owe such honor?”

Oh, how he wished he could smite that god out of existence. To make him swallow that smug smile by dismembering his body piece by piece and be witness to how his wretched soul dragged itself right into hell.

And it destroyed him knowing that he wasn’t able to do so.

“Silence, you fiend! You have no right to speak to our lord like that.”

The god only scoffed, amused by the situation.

“Did you come here to finish me off, Morax? To take revenge on me for killing your spawn?” He taunted. “Or perhaps, would you like for me to tell you how those two screamed and cried, desperately calling for their dear father to save them?”

The sound of a polearm hitting the rock wall filled the room. The small cut on the god’s cheek only let a drop of blood escape, before retracting and slowly closing itself. Just as if nothing had wounded him at all.

Morax’s heart sank even deeper at this. He knew where those powers came from, didn’t he? A fleeting memory came to him in an instant: a wound, two small children crying, and a woman consoling them. He slowly retreated his arm back to his side, not bothering to summon the weapon back. He didn’t have the strength to do it.

The creature laughed maniacally. It was elated to see the powerless figure of the Lord below him, feeling as if he had won before the fight even started. “You’re weak, dragon. Maybe these powers aren’t enough to slaughter you, but I have taken something from you. Something you will never be able to take back.”

.

“So? What happens next?”

“It’s obvious! Morax defeats the evil god and avenges his children, right?!”

The woman closed the book with a smile, finally looking up to see her children tucked in each one’s bed. “Well, what do you wish for it to happen next?”

“Rex Lapis kills the god! And, and- he finds out his children aren’t dead! And they all live happily ever after, fighting all the evil gods that come after them!”

She couldn’t help but laugh at her son’s words.

“You two have such a wild imagination sometimes.”

“But how does it really end?” Both the woman and the young boy turned to look at you, who had a hopeful look on your face. “Does it really have a happy ending?”

"Well, you'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out. Right now it's time to sleep." She put the book away before giving each kid a kiss on their forehead. "Have a good night, my treasures."

It only took a few seconds for her to turn of the light and close the door, disappearing into the hallway of the house. Both siblings remained in silence for a moment, before one of them shifted uncomfortably.

"Are you feeling okay, 妹妹?" Came the words of your brother, turning to face you. "Are you cold?"

"No, I just can't sleep. I'm thinking about that evil god… What if he breaks free? And attacks our village?! He'll hurt mom and dad!"

He got up from his bed, careful not to make any noise that could alert your parents, and slowly walked up to your bed, getting inside the sheets with you.

"It's just a story! That god probably doesn't even exist, and I doubt that Rex Lapis has had any children in the past." As expected of your older brother, such mature thoughts! He took great pride in the fact that he was able to comfort you.

"Really? So it's not real?"

He took your tiny hands between his. "Yeah! Plus, there's no one Rex Lapis can't defeat. He's our Geo Lord, after all."

You couldn't help but chuckle. Your brother was always right.

None of you said anything after that. The light of the moon illuminated the room through the window, barely letting you see each other's faces. It felt safe, knowing that your brother was there to guard you.

It was always safe.

.

"Here, try this sweetheart."

A red-colored drink was put in front of your face, hanging there barely a second before you grabbed it with both hands.

"It's strawberry, your favorite."

You smiled at your father, hugging him by the waist as a 'thank you'. He only chuckled and ruffled your hair, which in turn made you groan and quickly separate from him so he wouldn't mess it even more.

Your brother was busy clinging to your mother, who was in turn busy paying for the drinks your family had. The market was filled with all sort of people walking along, stopping by the various stands and buying all sort of things that you were sure no one would ever need. These were times of peace, your parents always reminded you two. As the war between gods finally came to an end, every creature was eager to go outside and celebrate, even if that celebration just meant going to the market and enjoy the afternoon with your family.

Without the ever-present danger of a stray attack of a divinity striking you for being in the wrong place at wrong time, it wasn't such a wonder everyone was feeling pretty happy.

"It's a statue of Morax!"

"What a marvelous piece of work!"

Your father had to grab your free hand when people started to pass by you in a rush, eager to reach the center of the street, just behind you both. Your eyes followed the multitude and lingered on, finding the statue they were fawning about. The sculptor was startled by the sudden noise of people gathering around her, momentarily separating her chisel from the stone before any irreparable damage could be done. She breathed a sigh of relief and brushed her forehead, failing to notice the bucket full of utensils at her side and inevitably pushing it down the stairs she was sitting on.

The metal resonated a few times before hitting the ground, spreading every instrument on the floor. The few onlookers that were close enough were quick to get out of the way, simply watching the artist groan in frustration at the thought of going down and retrieving all her stuff.

You were quick to leave your father's side, the sound of his voice calling out for you being drowned by the gasps and exclamations of surprise from the crowd around the square. You left your drink on the ground, opting to collect all the scattered items in your small hands. The woman shouted a big "thank you" from where she sat, waving her arm so you could notice her. You waved back, although you could barely move your right hand without letting every utensil fall from your arms. She used a rope to lower down a hook, stopping when it reached your waist so you could reach it without any inconvenience.

Just as you were just about to make haste to reach the rope, a metallic sound caught you attention. You looked back, finding a small hammer on the ground. It must've fallen from your hands. You looked at it for a couple of seconds, debating whether you should try to pick it up or just come back to retrieve it after sending back the bucket, with the possibility to have everything fall if you tried to grab it. Just as you were deciding to come back for it, a pair of black shoes stood next to the hammer, a gloved hand picket the small item up before handing it to you.

"I believe this is for the lady up there?" A deep, masculine voice asked. You looked up to find a pair of gold, glowing eyes.

"Thank you, mister!"

You did a small bow before quickly making your way to the statue of the Lord of Geo, using the rope and hook to hang the bucket with all the utensils inside. It wasn't long before the sculptor pulled the rope and retrieved her materials, waving once more just to show how grateful she was. This time you waved back accordingly, bidding farewell to the lady up there.

When you turned around to go back to your father, you only found strange faces walking along. Even looking all around the square proved to be in vain, as none of the men there looked remotely similar to him. Starting to feel nervous, you took a step forward and retracted almost immediately. There was a red puddle on the ground and an empty cup just a few centimeters away from it. This must've been your drink, you thought, and somebody must've kicked it accidentally from leaving it on the ground. Oh this was bad, your mom would surely scold you for being so careless! But, you had to find you dad first-

Your little eyes started scanning every inch of the plaza, feeling more and more anxious every time you failed to notice a familiar face.

It was then when you suddenly found one.

"Are you okay, little one?"

It was the man from before, you realized. He stood in front of you once more, slightly bending so you could see each other eye to eye. He must've seen you panicked and came to your rescue.

You noticed it the first time, but it really felt like the eyes of that man did glow. Such a nice golden color he had. It briefly reminded you of the landscape surrounding your village, the countless afternoons you spent with your brother playing around while the mountains watching over you from afar. It brought a feeling of peace along with it.

You wondered how long you were looking at them, for when you came back to yourself, he had his head tilted with amusement.

"I- I can't find my dad", you confessed, looking down in shame.

Oh, how he didn't like the loss of visual contact. A dangerous glint flashed before his eyes, quick enough to disappear just as you were raising your head again.

"I see," he said, smiling gently. "What does he look like? That way I can help you look for him."

It should be okay to tell him, right? Your mother always told you not to talk or go with strangers, but this one was trying to help you get back to your family's side. He had such gentle eyes, he surely couldn't be a bad guy.

The man nodded his head as you described your father's appearance. Though he maintained an amicable expression, you didn't fail to notice that his smile suddenly became strained. It was almost like he was feeling more disappointed as you rambled on.

"I say we look for him. He must be very close still." He extended his hand for you to take, and you didn't think twice. As you were just about to grab it, a voice calling your name made you stop. You turned to see the little figure of your brother calling your name and running straight to you, and the man closed his fist tightly.

"Where were you? Papa was worried when you left his side, mama scolded him a lot!" Your brother fussed, taking your hand in his as he started to make you follow him.

"Ah, wait!" The man at your side let his panic show for a moment, grabbing you both and making you stop in your tracks. He had his left hand on your shoulder, and his right one in your brother's arm, just above your linked hands.

The pair looked at him quizzically, but he refused to take his eyes off you both. You though they were glowing before, but now they were shining. They went back and forth between you two, and it was starting to get uncomfortable to be held by this stranger.

The hands grabbing you started to tremble.

The moment your sibling made up his mind to ask the man what did he want with you, the voice of your mother startled you. She came up running, your dad following her just behind. "I told you both to not get separated from us! Something could've happened!"

In an instant you both were set free. The man took a step backwards, as if he was suddenly shook awake from the trance he subconsciously put himself in. Looking back at him for barely a second you found him glaring intently at your mother. He seemed to assess her, looking up and down her appearance as if looking for something specific. Alas, he didn't find it, for his mood soured even more.

"Mister was going to help me find you, dad!" You exclaimed with excitement.

Your father turned to look at him, "Is that true? Well, thank you sir..."

"Mo- Zhongli. My name's Zhongli."

Neither of your parents realized that he was going to say another name. You and your brother looked at each other. At least he caught it too.

"Say goodbye to mister Zhongli children." Your mom ordered, patting your backs. "And remember to thank him."

You looked into his eyes once again and a chill ran through your whole body. His cold gaze was fixated into your mom's touch for barely a second before turning to you two. When he caught your gaze his mood changed so suddenly that it left you wandering if you imagined the previous hostility. He now smiled warmly and offered a shy wave of his hand. His expression was one of pure bliss at your acknowledgement of him.

"Goodbye mister Zhongli. Thank you." You shyly waved at him, hiding behind your mother due to the sudden weird feeling you were getting from him.

"Bye-bye. Thanks." Your brother imitated your action and ran to grab your father's hand.

The hand of your mother rested on your head, giving you a slight ruffle. You all started walking away from the market heading for home. Purely by curiosity both your brother and you looked behind you and had to quickly advert your eyes with a shiver running down your spines.

That man, Zhongli, was still looking at you two.

And the look he had was one of pure madness.

.

The curtain in the bedroom did nothing to stop the moonlight from barely illuminating the room. It was still pretty dark, the dim light only served to highlight the outline of the furniture, the walls and, most importantly, the two small figures resting in one bed.

The sight of the two kids hugging each other while sleeping made his heart ache with longing. It brought forth a deep sadness that was hurting his chest. He was staring right at them and he still couldn't believe he was seeing them.

Morax reached with his left hand and moved a wild strand of hair off your brother's face; all the while with the other he cupped your cheek and ran his thumb alongside with nothing but delicacy and love.

Oh, how he had missed them. His children.

It had to be fate, right? There was no other explanation for this.

He thanked Celestia time and time again, repeating it like a silent prayer. It must've been thanks to the kingdom in the sky that his children were allowed to reincarnate, albeit human but another life nonetheless. His mind wandered briefly to the memory of his long lost family, and especially to his late lover. How disappointed he was to find that neither your father nor your mother held her spirit. But it was okay, he told himself. There was still time. If his kids were given another chance at life then that meant he would see her again someday.

Until that happened he would make sure to properly protect you this time.

Your lazily opened your eyes. Even half asleep, you still had that uncomfortable feeling of being watched. You quickly scanned your room, finding nothing out of the ordinary and certainly no human, ghost or spirit watching you while you were sleeping. Your brother gave a soft groan and turned around, continuing his dream.

You must've imagined it then.

Your hand reached out to touch your cheek. For some reason it felt warm.

.

"Remember not to wander too far, okay kids?"

"Yes 妈!"

The two siblings ran along the busy street, chasing each other and laughing all the while. A group of kids passed by playing among themselves too. Your brother took notice of them and immediately approached what seemed to be the leader, asking for you both to join their game of tag. None of the children had any problem with it, they even seemed happy to have a few more people to play with. Giving a hand gesture to your parents indicating that you would be with them, the both of you started to follow the other kids.

A couple of hours passed. In the middle of the fun the game changed a few times, ultimately deciding to play a few rounds of hide and seek before having to return to their homes. It was your turn to hide. You took your brother's hand and made him follow you, going inside an alleyway to sit behind a few wooden crates. You giggled at each other, thinking that this was the perfect hiding spot. You were sure the girl counting wouldn't be able to find you-

"Found you!" A voice above startled you both.

Your brother stood up with a jump. You turned around, confused as to why it wasn't that girl's voice what you heard.

Gold filled your vision.

You were staring again at the gleaming eyes of the same man that helped you yesterday.

"It's... you again." You muttered. He brightened up at the thought of you recognizing him.

"Go away! We're playing hide and seek! You're going to give away our hiding spot!"

Even though your brother rudely tried to shoo him he remained in his place, a gentle smile resting on his face.

"Are you playing, then? Can I join?

Your brother and you stared at each other.

"We'd have to ask the others... I don't think adults are allowed to join."

He seemed to ponder over this.

"Don't mind the other kids. Let's play just the three of us."

Even though your brother was about to refuse something made him stop right in his tracks. You followed his line of vision and found yourself entranced by the dim glow of Zhongli's eyes. Suddenly they felt very familiar. It was exactly like those times that by cleaning your room you ended up finding a toy you really treasured but didn't know you had lost at one point. A sense of longing and love, the sensation of reuniting with something you believed was lost to time.

Overwhelmed by this strange feeling, you ended up giving in to his demand. "I... I- Sure..."

It was clear that at your side your brother was feeling the same way, for he didn't refuse a second time.

Two gloved hands extended in front of you. You hesitated momentarily, thinking that this wasn't a really good idea. The sudden memory of the first meeting with Zhongli flashed through your mind.

"I think that-"

"Yeah, let's go."

Your brother was quick to take one of the hands, letting the man pull him closer to him like your father would do.

They both turned to look at you. "Are you coming, 妹妹?"

If your brother thought that it was fine then it should be, right? You nodded slowly and decided to also take Zhongli's hand.

.

"兒子! 女儿! Where are you?"

Zhongli stopped walking. The distressed voice of your mortal mother managed to miraculously sour his whole mood. He was having such a good time with his children, how dare that woman interrupt him!

Your sleeping figure in his arms started to wake up at the familiar sound sound of her shouting. You looked above his shoulder, waking up even more once you recognized her figure wandering along the street. "妈!" You called for her.

Your brother, who was walking alongside Zhongli and being guided by his hand, also turned to look at her. He rubbed the sleepiness off his eyes and waved to get her attention.

"Kids! There you are!"

It took all of Morax's willpower not to turn and smite her right there and then. He wanted nothing more than to take his children away, hide them where no one could find them ever again. It was bad luck that he was found by that woman as he was planning to leave the city; Morax believed that he wasn't such a violent god, now that the war was over. His displays of power were limited to deities and other mystical beings, never a human was a victim to his wrath. It would reflect badly on him if he decided to eliminate this human in front of his children. It could frighten them, make them scared of his power.

The last thing he wanted was the two of you fearing him.

"Thank you for looking after them!" She exclaimed, running up to him and taking you from his arms onto hers. Rage flashed through his eyes. He stilled his right hand that ached for the blood of the person that dares take his kid from him. Be calm, he told himself. He needed to be calm.

"It was no problem, madam." He forced a smile at her. "It was getting late and I found them wandering again, I just wanted to make sure nothing bad happened to them until we found you."

She seemed to believe that he was helping you again just like yesterday. This would do. The boy let go of his hand and ran up to his mother, hugging her from the waist. His fist clenched tightly.

"We played all day, mom!" Your brother said with enthusiasm.

She gave a soft laugh. "Is that why you two are falling asleep standing?"

Morax faked a laugh. She turned to him.

"I have no words of gratitude. I was getting really worried when I saw that they weren't coming home once their curfew arrived!"

Such an irresponsible mother. If it were him he wouldn't take his eyes off his kids. He would make sure to stay besides them all day, forever...

"It's my pleasure to help." He gave a small bow. "They're lovely kids."

"Why, thank you!" She smiled brightly at his kind words. Your brother tugged her cheongsam to get her attention. She immediately got the massage and bowed to Morax. "It was a pleasure, mister Zhongli. Thank you again for your help."

She turned around and started walking heading for her home. Morax didn't bother to responder her goodbye. He only looked at her fading figure, one child in her arms and the other walking besides her.

It was okay.

He has waited all this time for them. He could wait a little more before bringing his children home.

.

A week had passed since then.

Your parents made sure to keep you both close to them or at least, somewhere they could keep an eye on you. During all this time you didn't encounter Zhongli, at least not directly. There were moments where you would spot his golden eyes in the middle of the crowd, or see his figure leaning against the wall, completely in silence with his gaze fixed on your brother or yourself. It would be for merely a few seconds; as soon as your mother or father got close to you he would disappear.

Those strange sightings plus the uncomfortable sensation of being watched all the time were starting to make you pretty nervous. It didn't feel like you two were actually in danger, but the hazard was still there nonetheless. It made you anxious not know where the danger actually was.

You eventually stopped going outside to play, preferring to stay and home with the company of your parents. They didn't complain, of course not, but you knew they were worried by the sudden change of attitude. Could have something happened?

Clouds covered the entire sky. It wasn't raining yet, but it was obvious that it would rain pretty soon.

You looked at the sky trough your bedroom's window, letting out a sigh.

"Feeling sad, 妹妹?" Your brother asked from the door before approaching you and standing at your side.

"Well, we weren't planning on going outside and play anyways. Maybe we could just read something?"

"We've been reading all week! Let's do some other thing. What about drawing?"

You pondered over that.

"Sure! Let's grab some paper from dad's study and-"

Your next words died in your throat. The ground started to shake violently, making your whole house vibrate with it. Stuff started to fall all around you, and parts of the ceiling crumbled before crashing to the floor.

"It's an earthquake!" You shouted, hugging your brother instantly.

"We have to get out!"

Nodding at his words, you quickly ran out of the bedroom. You clashed with your father while crossing the door, undoubtedly he was rushing in to help you. He grabbed you both from your arms and ran out of the house, your mother following just behind you.

Outside it was pure chaos. Not only buildings were crumbling on themselves, there were two dragons fighting as high as the clouds were. The adepti tried to guide the crowd as well as they could, signaling where to evacuate to escape from all the destruction.

You tried to hold onto your father's hand, but the swarm of panicked people didn't stop crashing against you, eventually weakening his hold and forcing him to release you with a horrified gasp. You both heard him call your names and try to reach you but the people didn't stop pushing you away from him.

You two just hoped you would be able to escape to reunite with your parents once you were safe.

.

Oh, how good it felt to quell his thirst of blood.

He looked at the inert body of the other god, watching as the blood flowed from where his polearm was thrusted in his back. This wouldn't kill him, no, but how good it still felt to try.

He briefly looked up to the mountains, glazing over the enormous hole the tallest had. He always knew that that evil god would break free from his seal, that all this time feigning sleep were only for the sole purpose of gaining his strength back.

But Morax had an advantage. The god had power that didn't belong to him, thus every time he tried to use it he would become unstable, open to attacks. It was a hard battle that's true, but it didn't matter to the Geo Lord. He would take him down as many times as it was needed.

He would protect his children this time. This and all the upcoming ones.

With one look around, all his adepti started working right away. A group of them focused on restraining the fallen god before he awakened, while the other, the physically stronger, helped the humans trapped below the rubble and destruction that was left behind.

Morax turned on his heels and started walking away. None of the presents said anything to him. Their master was emanating an ominous aura, a warning for them to stay away from him and just focus on their task ahead.

The streets that were once full of life now served as a cemetery for all the corpses laying everywhere. A few of them were barely clinging onto life, crying out due to their wounds or the fallen debris that imprisoned them against the floor.

But Morax didn't have time to waste with them. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing. If he concentrated enough, the earth beneath him would answer his demands. He felt each pulsation like a beating heart; the earth was always carrying life, and if he tuned with it he could feel any being connected to it. Be it plants, animals or humans.

Two particular beats made his body tingle and suddenly Morax could breathe again. They were alive. They were safe. He protected them this time.

As soon as he mentally followed their life force located away from the city he was ready to go to them, but the sudden tug of the fabric of his torn hanfu made him look down.

A delicate hand was trying to get his attention; the woman trapped below a cart was weakly tugging his clothes, and he couldn't help but smile with nothing but insanity.

That was your mother right there, bleeding profusely from the head. The body of her husband laid barely a meter away from her. He didn't need to check his pulse or try to hear his breathing to know that that man was already dead.

This couldn't be better.

"Mis... Zhong... help..." She only managed to say, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

He crouched in front of her, tilting his head as he assessed her wound.

"Poor thing. You would surely die if left alone in such condition."

His smile surely didn't convey the fake empathy from his words. A chill went down from the woman's spine, who just by looking at his eyes immediately knew that she wouldn't be getting out of there alive.

"You... them..."

"Ah, yes, them." He shrugged nonchalantly. "You don't have to worry about them. You can go in peace knowing that my children will be in safe hands, right where they belong."

He stood up as she started to trash around to try to break free. He only walked a few steps before a thud behind him made him look for a second. Her wound finally caught up to her and fell unconscious. How happy he was; he didn't even have to get his hands dirty to get rid of the false parents of his children. They were just... sad casualties of war.

He walked on.

.

A faraway temple was serving as a refuge for all the people running away from the city.

Alongside your brother, the two of you remained in a secluded group with all the other lost children, one of the locals comforting you and assuring all the kids that they were doing everything in their power to find their relatives. Your brother gripped your hand tightly, and you rested your head against his shoulder, numbly watching ahead for any sign of your mother or father.

You were expecting the gentle smile of your mom or the soft eyes of your father, but what instead stood before you two was gold.

Morax saluted the woman in charge of the group, and from where you were sitting you couldn't exactly hear what they were saying. She let out a relieved sigh and let him enter, following him with her gaze as he approached you two. He crouched to look at you in the eyes and extended his hand.

"Let's go home, my dears."

You both hesitated. It should be okay, you thought shyly. Mister Zhongli wouldn't do anything to hurt neither of you.

You looked at each other before accepting the hand that was offered. Morax let a small laugh. He helped you stand up before giving a nod to the woman as a thanks, exiting the temple shortly after.

With each step you moved farther and farther away from your village. You glanced at it as it smaller and smaller, feeling like this would be the last time you would look at your home.

[cupidriki]

SAD GIRL

(a jakehoon drabble)

𝓟RECIS ⌇You had a healthy marriage with Sunghoon, or so you thought. After finding out that Sunghoon has been planning to divorce you, you seek revenge by being with his arch-nemesis, Jake. Now the question is, who's trying to kill you, and who's trying to make you the queen of the world?

────────────────

𝓘NCLUES⌇Rich CEO Husband! Sunghoon x fem reader x Rich CEO! Jake, love triangle, dark romance, angst, tension, somewhat cheating, secrets, impossible love, other persons lover, mentions of murder

𝓣HEME SONGS ⌇Sad Girl by Lana del Rey

(betrayer will be revealed in part two)

“Come to me, darling..” As you stood before Sunghoon, his gaze met yours with a softness that seemed almost otherworldly. His eyes held a certain power, a mesmerizing quality that could make anyone feel like putty in his hands.

In a tense situation, you found yourself enveloped in Jake's arms, with a loaded gun pointed directly at Sunghoon who stood across from the two of you. Sunghoon raised his arms in surrender, convincing you to choose him.

“C’mon, you’re gonna throw all of this away?” Jake felt a sudden sense of danger as Sunghoon's lips twisted into a sinister smirk. He instinctively held you tighter, as if to protect you from whatever evil intentions lay behind that wicked expression.

You were married to Sunghoon for three years, and while it wasn't necessarily a terrible marriage, it also wasn't particularly fulfilling or happy.

Sunghoon and Jake have a long-standing rivalry, consistently trying to outdo each other to become the top company in their industry.

But the company wasn't what they were fighting about, it was you.

After hearing that Sunghoon wants to end your marriage, you felt really angry and frustrated. It sucks that he wants to throw away all the time you spent together without even considering how you feel.

The situation was intense as you sought revenge for what Sunghoon had done to you. You ended up sleeping with his enemy, Jake, but the consequences were not worth it. The regret was overwhelming as Sunghoon found out about your actions, and you were left feeling lost and confused. In the midst of it all, you found yourself in Jake's arms. However, Sunghoon was determined to convince you to come back to his side, leaving you torn between two conflicting emotions.

As Sunghoon persisted in pleading with you, your body trembled with a strong desire to be near him. Despite your inner conflict, the pull towards him grew stronger. Your heart yearned to reach out and bridge the distance between you, unable to resist his magnetic presence.

“Don’t make me do it, c’mon..”

Despite not knowing if Sunghoon might not be entirely truthful, you couldn't help but feel a strong love for him. You noticed that his sweet eyes were possibly just a facade, but you still see a slight care in his eyes, you couldn't resist falling for his charming demeanor and alluring presence.

As you gazed at Sunghoon and Jake, you suddenly noticed Sunghoon reaching for something in his pocket. In a split second, he pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at Jake. The tension in the air was palpable, and you were left frozen in shock, unsure of what to do next.

“If you go to him, i’ll shoot myself,” Jake said with a menacing look in his eyes, Jake tightened his grip around the gun as he directed his gaze towards Sunghoon. "I won't hesitate to use this," he said in a cold, calculated tone, his words dripping with a sense of danger and malice.

“If you keep letting Jake hold you, I’ll do the same.”

As you stood there, heart-wrenched and helpless, you knew that the fate of one of the two men you held so close to your heart will be out of your hands. With tears streaming down your face, you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable pain that was to come. You couldn't bear the thought of losing either of them, but you knew that only one would emerge from the fray, and the knowledge was almost too much to bear.

You have a gut feeling that one of the people around you is not being truthful and secretly desires to harm you. However, you are clueless about who that person could be, leaving you feeling apprehensive and on edge.

Your body trembles in terror as tears stream down your face, while the two men prepare their guns. Fear grips you as you watch them ready themselves for whatever comes next. Helpless and afraid, you think of who to choose.

@cholexc @yyawnjun @allforhee @dimplewonie

[hermajestyimher]

Manifestation as a Christian: A Comprehensive Biblical Guide

Manifestation, the practice of bringing one's desires into reality through positive thinking, visualization, and affirmations, has gained significant attention in contemporary culture. For Christians, understanding and utilizing manifestation within a biblical framework can provide a powerful and faith-anchored approach to achieving goals and experiencing blessings. This guide explores the biblical basis for manifestation, aligns it with scriptural teachings, and offers practical steps for Christians to use manifestation while remaining rooted in their faith.

Biblical Basis for Manifestation

Faith and Belief

The Bible emphasizes the power of faith and belief, which are core components of manifestation:

Hebrews 11:1 - "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."

Mark 11:24 - "Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours."

The tenent highlighted in these verses shows us the importance of believing in what you ask for, reflecting the foundational principle of manifestation which many may refer to as "Law of Assumption" that faith and belief are crucial to bring things forward into reality.

Positive Confession

The Bible also teaches the power of words and the importance of speaking positively, as our words have immense power to bring forward good but also evil into our lives:

Proverbs 18:21 - "Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits."

Romans 4:17 - "As it is written, ‘I have made you the father of many nations’—in the presence of the God in whom he believed, who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist."

Our words shape our reality, it's crucial that we become aware of this, so as to not allow corrupt talk to come out of our lips.

God’s Will and Alignment

Understanding and aligning with God’s will is essential in the manifestation process:

1 John 5:14-15 - "And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us. And if we know that he hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have the requests that we have asked of him."

Matthew 6:33 - "But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."

These verses stress the importance of aligning our desires with God's will, ensuring that our manifestations are in harmony with His divine plan, which as we will see further below, are plans to prosper us and give us a future to look forward to.

Understanding Manifestation Biblically

God as the Source

In biblical teaching, God is the ultimate source of all provision and blessing. While contemporary manifestation often emphasizes the individual's power to attract or create their reality, the Bible underscores that all good things come from God:

James 1:17 - "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change."

Prayer and Supplication

Believers are encouraged to bring their desires and needs to God through prayer and supplication, acknowledging their dependence on Him:

Philippians 4:6-7 - "Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

Gratitude and Thanksgiving

Gratitude is a key element in both biblical teaching and modern manifestation practices. Giving thanks, even before receiving what has been asked for, reflects faith and trust in God’s provision:

1 Thessalonians 5:18 - "Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you."

Action and Faith

Manifestation involves not just belief but also taking actionable steps towards one’s goals. The Bible supports the idea that faith should be accompanied by corresponding actions:

James 2:26 - "For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so also faith apart from works is dead."

Ensuring Good Things by Being Anchored to God

Confidence in Prayer

1 John 5:14-15 can be connected with Jeremiah 29:11 to emphasize the assurance of God’s good intentions for us. Jeremiah 29:11 states:

Jeremiah 29:11 - "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

God's will is to prosper us and give us hope and a future. Therefore, when we pray in alignment with these good plans, we can be assured that God hears and answers our prayers. And when we pray with the assurance of knowing that these things we ask will come to pass, we exercise extreme faith, which is pleasing before God.

Assurance of God’s Good Plans

Knowing that God's plans are to prosper us and not to harm us provides reassurance that He will only allow what is ultimately for our benefit. Even when we face challenges or things don't go as we planned, we can trust that God’s ultimate purpose is for our good and better things are on their way:

Romans 8:28 - "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."

Sometimes what we desire may not come to pass immediately or in the way we expect. Trusting in God’s wisdom and timing is crucial.

Manifestation as a God-Given Tool

Gift of Manifestation

Manifestation can be seen as a God-given tool that allows us to participate in bringing forth blessings and positive outcomes in our lives:

Genesis 1:27 - "So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them."

Being made in God's image implies that we have creative power and the ability to influence our reality. There is no greater creator than God, all creation comes from Him, and by being made in his own image, we carry the power to create with us as well.

Anchored in God

When we anchor our manifestation practices in God, we align our desires and actions with His will:

Proverbs 3:5-6 - "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths."

Seeking God’s guidance and wisdom helps us discern what is truly beneficial for us:

James 1:5 - "If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him."

Protection from Harm

When we manifest with God, we trust Him to protect us from things that might seem good but could ultimately harm us, because ultimately we are bringing forward His will for us, which as we've seen, can only be for our benefit:

Romans 8:28 - "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."

Manifestation, when viewed as a tool given by God, becomes a powerful practice that brings blessings and positive outcomes into our lives. By anchoring ourselves in God and surrendering our desires to Him, we ensure that only good things come our way. This approach integrates the power of positive thinking and faith with a deep trust in God's perfect will and timing. By understanding and believing that God's will is inherently good and designed for our benefit, we can approach Him with confidence, knowing that He will fulfill His promises to prosper us and give us hope and a future.

[banana-with-a-bow-tie]

is being gay/trans REALLY a sin? Is being attracted to the same sex/wanting to dress as the gender you feel you should be really all that bad to christians? Why do christians care what people do with their own lives to the point that they tell them it’s “sin”

I'm seeing three questions here. 1. What is sin? 2. How do we know something is a sin? 3. Why do Christians care if people sin?

What is a sin?

In order to understand what sin is you need to understand who God is. God is good. He does not just possess good or desirable qualities. He is good. The word "good" comes directly from the word God because God is the very standard of what it means for something to be good. We can say things like flowers and sunsets and sharing are good because they are based on God who is the source of everything good (James 1:17).

God is also our Creator. He designed us according to His perfect goodness so that we could be like Him and walk in His good ways (Psalm 25:8; Hebrews 12:10). God would be unloving to create the world and not follow His goodness.

Sin, then, is our rebellion against God and His goodness. When Adam and Eve first sinned, they were tempted with the idea that they could be like God and decide what is good and evil for themselves. They wanted to be able to say, "God is not king, I am king. God's ways are not good, my desires are good."

This is a lie from the father of lies. Satan wants us to believe that if I just do whatever I think is best then I will find true goodness and satisfaction, but all it does is lead us further and further away from true goodness which comes from communion with God (Psalm 34:10).

2. How do we know something is a sin?

When Adam and Eve sinned, our communion with God died. We all like sheep went astray and turned aside to our own ways. (Isaiah 53:6). We stopped listening to God's loving care and instead started following our hearts, but our hearts are deceitful and wicked beyond understanding (Jeremiah 17:9).

We cannot listen to our attractions or our feelings because we are attracted to and find pleasure in things that God declares are evil, things that are contrary to His good design. If people did not find pleasure in things like cheating on your spouse or stealing, then they would never do it. They are drawn into wrongdoing by their own wicked desires (James 1:14).

But God is still good. He has not left us without a witness. He has given a conscience to people who are hostile to Him so that even they can recognize when their desires are not good. We all know inherently that lying is bad, that pride is bad, that fighting and anger are bad, because God has hidden His law in our hearts (Romans 2:15).

However, because we have deceitful rebellious hearts, we try to justify ourselves and explain it away and muffle the conscience so it can't bother us any more, like searing your hand with a hot iron so it can't feel anything (1 Timothy 4:2).

The only way we can know something is sinful is by God giving us new life and enabling us to trust in the goodness of His Word again. We can know with certainty that all sexual desire outside of marriage is sin because God told us it defies His character and people do it because they want to rebel against Him, so God gives them what they want (Romans 1:24-25).

3. Why do Christians care if people sin?

Ray Comfort tells a story about a man who hated homosexuals. There was a broken elevator in his building with a sign on it that said "DANGER! OUT OF ORDER!" The hateful man saw two lesbians approaching the elevator so he took the sign down so they would use it and fall to their deaths.

God has given us a clear warning in Scripture that following your heart is dangerous. It's like an addictive drug, numbing your mind with pleasure so you don't realize it's killing you. If someone you loved was overdosing in front of you, you wouldn't say "whatever man, live your truth." You would shake them awake so they could see what is happening to them and try to get them help. If I believe that God's warning is telling the truth, the most unloving and hateful thing I can do is not tell anyone about it. Woe to me if I see judgment coming and don't tell anyone how to be saved (Ezekiel 33:6)!

Christians aren't trying to control you or force you to follow their personal preferences. Some people who profess Christ do that, but mostly we have met a God who loves us, who saw us hurtling in a downward spiral of guilt and shame and earning eternal punishment for our crimes against Him, and choosing to show us forgiveness in an unfathomably kind way.

Every single one of us has disobeyed God and tried to take His place on the throne. We all stand guilty before God not just for things like murder or homosexuality, but for lying and envy and idolatry. We have broken God's laws and because He is good, He cannot leave evil unpunished. The wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23). Every single one of us dies because it is what we have earned for ourselves. We deserve for God to give us His wrath and anger for waging war against Him (Romans 1:18).

But God is rich in mercy and abounding in love even to those who hate Him. We owe God a righteous life, but none of us are righteous, so God decided to wipe away our debt by living the perfect life for us. God became a man, Jesus, lived a perfect life, then died on a cross, taking the wrath of God we deserved, then rose again on the third day, proving that the price had been paid, then He ascended to God's right hand to offer Himself as the reason people can stand before God as righteous.

God does not delight in the death of the wicked. He does not want you to keep trying to find your identity in yourself. He wants you to know Him and His love for you. He wants to wipe away your sin and make you white as snow. What you need to do is confess your sin to God, which means to agree that you are guilty of rebellion against Him and that He is truly Lord, and you must believe that He will forgive your sin and give you eternal life because of what Jesus did for you on the cross. God is faithful and just to forgive the sin of anyone who asks Him (1 John 1:9)

I care about what you do with your life because I love you and because God loves you, just like a Father loves His children and wants what is best for them. I don't want you to miss out on the amazing gift of grace God is offering to you. Don't let Satan keep deceiving you. He promises you peace but all he can give you is death. Every promise of God will always come true (Titus 1:2)

[powdermelonkeg]

just saw ur gale/mystra analysis post. im new to the game and dnd lore and honestly… ur take on their relationship feels like the most natural/compelling one??? esp since its all too easy to simplify topics that have many facets and nuance….

thanks for sharing i love analysis and reading people’s takes on narratives : D

My pleasure! (Bee from the future here: congrats, you spawned another meta!)

I love complicated characters, WAY more than I like a clear cut-and-dry case. Flaws, to me, are what make a character compelling and lead to interesting stories about them with choices that can get them into situations. I'm both writing a fanfic and running a campaign where I'm playing as Gale, and in the interest of portraying him properly and in-character, I've gone into SUCH a deep dive into all the decisions and facts that make him him.

It helps to, y'know, also be in love with the fictional wizard, but I digress

The thing about Baldur's Gate 3 is that no character in there is perfect. I've seen a couple analyses about the theme of continuing cycles of abuse vs breaking out of them, but in my mind, in terms of the characters themselves, it goes like this:

The origin characters have just come out of the lowest situation of their lives (Lae'zel being the exception; being tadpoled is a gith's worst nightmare. You're seeing that lowest situation in real time).

Not the lowest point, mind. Gale's lowest was probably the day after he got the Orb. Wyll's was probably the day his father cast him out. Karlach's was the day she lost her heart. But the lowest, accepted normal for them is what they've just left.

They're then thrown out of their depth and forced to rely on you to live. That's #1 priority: living. We get the extremes of these characters before we get their nuances, because they're quite literally at their breaking points.

Then once we get to know them, we see their wants, their hopes, their fears, as they open up to us. Every companion's story is at their own pace, but they all have a moment where they ping-pong between despondency and desire. Sometimes that desire is what we know isn't good for them, like Shadowheart wanting to be a Dark Justiciar. Sometimes that despondency is only for a flicker, like Astarion's realization that he's condemned 7000 people to a half-life of tortured spawnhood for as long as he's been a vampire.

Romance lets us crack all that open more, because if you pursue a romantic partner, they see you as their closest confidant. They WANT to trust you, so they're more willing to explain how they see the world and what decisions they want to chase.

And then their endings. Those often get simplified as good/bad, continuing the cycle vs breaking away from it. But how is Duke Wyll on the same platform as Ascended Astarion? He's not evil, he's not even entirely unhappy. He might even have broken out of his abusive cycle with Mizora, if you played your cards right. And Ascended Astarion is overjoyed, even if he is remarkably more cold.

I think that the endings are less a dichotomy of "this is good for them" vs "this is bad for them," and more one of "bringing out their best traits" vs "bringing out their worst."

Wyll's worst trait is being willing to sacrifice his own wants for whatever people desire of him. His best is standing for what he believes in and ensuring people are safe. Duke Wyll leans into that necessity to turn the other cheek in the name of people who count on him, while the Blade of Avernus has seized that moral compass of his and forged it out of mithral.

Shadowheart's worst trait is blind obedience at the cost of her individuality, while her best is her desire to be kind to things that don't deserve to be hurt. Mother Superior Shadowheart's whole life is defined by Shar. Selûnite Shadowheart's life is defined by her hospitality, especially towards animals.

Karlach's worst trait is how willing she is to accept that things are (to quote her) fucked, letting despair override hope. Her best is her durability in the face of horror. Exploded Karlach would rather die than try to work out a solution in the Hells, because she's terrified of facing Zariel alone. Mindflayer Karlach has accepted her fate and decides to give up her heart and soul to go out a hero, losing who she is. Fury of Avernus Karlach is willing to keep fighting for a solution, and by the time the epilogue happens, she's got her sights set on one.

Astarion's worst trait is his desire for power over people. His best trait is using the tools he has to his advantage. Ascended Astarion has let his powerhungry nature and paranoia lead all of his decisions, with his sights set on dominating mankind. Spawn Astarion has embraced what he is, and carved out a life for himself where he can do as he pleases.

Lae'zel's worst trait is her blind fanaticism, while her best trait is her individual dedication, making her loyalty a marriage of the two. Ascended Lae'zel is a meal for the lich queen, turning a blind eye to all Vlaakith's tried to do to her and literally being consumed by her fervor. Champion of Orpheus Lae'zel has turned her loyalty into something productive for diplomacy. Faerûnian Lae'zel has seized her individuality by the throat and decided her own future.

And then Gale. Gale's worst traits are his hubris and, paradoxically, his low self worth. His best traits are his creativity and wonder for the world. God Gale is the embodiment of ambition, having burned away all but that in pursuit of perfection. Exploded Gale has let his remorse blot out all hope for a redemption in which he does not die, because he thinks he's earned it. Professor Gale leads his life by embracing the school of Illusion and letting his creativity thrive, teaching others to do the same. House Husband Gale has multiple creative projects he's working on, and Adventurer Gale is always finding new sights to see and wanting to share them with you.

There are arguments to be made on which ending the origins are happiest in, certainly, or which one benefits them the most, but each ending represents the extreme of a facet they possess.

So with all that, there's a sort of malleable method to figuring out the ins and outs of a character.

You take their endings—all of them, all variables they can have—and reverse-engineer the flaws and details they carry. Then you start to notice how those work into their approvals for minor things: Astarion approving of your taking of the Blood of Lathander, or Shadowheart approving of standing up for Arabella. Getting a list of approvals and disapprovals is helpful, but having those endings on hand tells you why they react like that to a majority of their decisions.

You take their romance-route explanations of how they act, and apply those to earlier decisions. Astarion's confession to manipulating you and Araj-prompted admittance to using himself as a tool brings to light how he reacts to your decisions, regardless of his actual opinions on them. Wyll's fairytale romance and love of poetic adages speaks to his idealistic nature, and why he takes a sometimes-blinded approach to decisions in which the "right" answer isn't always the smart one.

You take their beginning reactions to stress and use that to measure how future decisions impact them. Lae'zel locks down and gets snappy when she's scared, while Gale immediately turns to diplomacy. Shadowheart has gallows humor, while Wyll turns to quiet acceptance. If they break from these and seem even worse, you know the situation is more dire in their minds than having seven days to live.

And then you factor in all their fun facts and dialogue choices and backstories.

A wizard falls in love with a goddess and her magic, attempts to retrieve a piece of her power for her, is scorned for his attempt and is cursed to die.

Give that backstory to a Tav. Look at how it changes.

A chaotic good wizard fell in love with a goddess, thought retrieving a piece of power for her would be a showy bouquet of love, and was punished for not thinking things through.

A lawful evil wizard fell in love with a goddess's power, snatched the most precious thing she owned, tried to use it to barter his way through to the secrets she kept, and was given a swift retribution.

Same backstory. Same class, same act, same goddess. Wildly different connotations. Wildly different conclusions as to who is in the wrong.

If you take all there is to Gale, all that the game shows us makes up his character, and apply it to this backstory, you get what really happened:

A wizard, enamored with magic, fell in love with a goddess. His desires led him to want more than she was willing to give. In his well-buried fear of inadequacy, he concluded that the reason she wouldn't indulge his ambitions was because he just hadn't proven himself worthy enough. So he tried to prove himself, but he lacked the context for what he was proving himself with. And the goddess, seeing a weapon that had killed her predecessor, saw this ambitious wizard as losing his way and coming for her just like the weapon's creator had. She was angry, she withdrew his link to her, and he didn't know why. So he drew the conclusion that she took his powers to punish him, and let that encompass his fall from grace.

Was he wrong to reach for what was out there?

If you knew that the answers to everything you cared about were not only known, but kept by someone you loved—someone who adored you—what would you do to ask to see them? What if your curiosities were if there were other planets with life out there, or how dark matter worked, or whether or not we could one day travel in the stars? What if it was the potential cure to an illness that's little-understood, or the way to make a program you dreamt up, or the scope of the true limits of your artistic talents? Would your answer change?

Was she wrong to cut him off?

If you were once hurt, and the person you loved—the person who adored you—brought the thing that caused it to your door, believing you'd want it, how would you react to seeing it? What if that thing was someone you thought you'd broken contact with, like a friend or family member you'd been trying to avoid? Would your answer change?

That's the sort of scope that needs to be applied to this, on both sides. You have to take the perspectives of each party, and apply two analogies instead of one.

Gale saw the vastness of the universe, untold wonders, the solution to every question he could ever dream up, and saw Mystra as withholding this from him because she thought he just wasn't worthy enough. To claim Mystra knew his perspective does her a disservice.

Mystra saw a cruel weapon she thought long gone, in the hands of someone who could use it, brought right to her, and thought Gale was willingly following the path of Karsus. To claim Gale knew her perspective does him a disservice.

Should Gale have researched his prize more, so he knew just what he was obtaining? Should he have kept his hands off a cursed book that would devour him? Of course he should have.

Should he have given up on chasing his dreams?

Should Mystra have understood that Gale's pursuit of power was nothing like Karsus'? Should she have communicated when she was angry instead of giving the cold shoulder? Of course she should have.

Should she have given him the benefit of the doubt?

That's the root of their falling out. That's what leads to hurt being inflicted. Understandable, human reactions to the situations they perceive. Unhealthy, unwise choices made afterwards.

You work backwards from this to figure out their dynamic as Chosen and goddess. You work forward from this to understand more of where Gale and Mystra are during the events of Baldur's Gate 3. Gale reached too high, and understands this. His goddess hates him, and he regrets this. Mystra isolated Gale, and understands this. Her Chosen wants redemption, and she wants to make it happen.

Just like we took Gale's character into account, we also have to take Mystra's.

A goddess is faced with a problem. She uses someone who's desperate for approval to solve it, by telling him to kill himself.

An evil goddess is faced with a threat to her reign. She sees someone who's unfailingly loyal and hates himself, and elects to have him tear himself apart rather than do anything about it.

A good goddess is terrified of the future. She sees someone who tried to hurt her, who's going to die anyways, and tells him to use it to save the world.

Same story. Same act, same power, same pawn. Different character. Different perspective. Different outlook on whether or not this is the right thing to do.

Mystra has died, multiple times, to people trying to stake claim to her domain. Someone appears with the very thing that could do it again, right as she's regained her stability.

She does not see mortals the way mortals do. She is timeless. She is eternal. She has a duty to protect billions of people, and one person lost to protect that number is more than worth the sacrifice.

People like to bring up the Seven Sisters as proof of Mystra's cruelty. For those unaware, Mystra asked permission to, then possessed, a woman, used her to court a man (with dubious consent from the woman), and bore seven children, all of whom were capable of bearing Mystra's power as Chosen without dying. The woman she possessed was killed in the process (reduced to no more than a husk, then slain by her now-husband, hoping to end her suffering), and the husband was horrified by the whole story.

Mystra needed Chosen in order to restore herself in the event that she was killed again, to prevent magic as a whole from collapsing and wreaking havoc on the mortal realm, like it had in the few seconds Mystryl had been dead. Elminster, Khelben Blackstaff, and the Seven Sisters contributed to this. The more Chosen she has, the better; what happens if Elminster dies? She can't afford to have all her eggs in one basket.

Mystra has Volo (yeah, that Volo) as a Weave Anchor, imparted with a portion of her power to prevent the Weave from shredding itself to pieces in her absence. All Chosen of Mystra are Weave Anchors by nature. The creation of Weave Anchors was mandated by Ao, the Overgod, and Chosen are the best way to make sure those anchors aren't drained by ambitious people hoping for godlike power. Chosen can, and will, defend themselves, unlike static locations (which Mystra also has). The anchors are why the Weave wasn't completely obliterated during Mystra's last death, when the Spellplague rose up, because they stabilized the Weave around them.

Everything Mystra does is in the name of the big picture, to prevent a catastrophe like the fall of Netheril from happening again. Her restriction of magic, her numerous Chosen, her creation of Weave Anchors, her destruction of those who would claim her power, it's all in the name of the stability she's been charged with. Dornal Silverhand's grief and Elué Silverhand's death, while regrettable, were worth it to bring seven more anchors into existence to save all of the Material.

So someone appears with the Crown of Karsus, potentially powerful enough to try to kill the other gods in the name of the Dead Three. She can't risk being a target of them. She can't risk the destruction of magic again.

Gale is going to die. He lives in fear. He begs for forgiveness.

In Mystra's eyes, she's offering him the best outcome. She'll let him die in service to her, to save Faerûn, and she'll forgive him. He's going to die anyways, and if he does this, she'll give him everything (she thinks) he could ever want in her realm. She's asking him to do what (she thinks) is the right thing.

"She would consider what she considers to be forgiveness."

Notably, she leaves the decision in his hands. She doesn't have Elminster lead him to the Nether Brain. She doesn't activate him as soon as he's there. When he lives yet, she doesn't revoke the charm that keeps him stable. And when he declines, when he lets it go and starts pursuing Karsus' path, she doesn't smite him on the spot.

She is (she thinks) being incredibly patient. If Gale is going to try to be Karsus II, she's ready for him. If he decides to walk off and keep the Orb, he's dug his own grave in the Fugue Plane (those who don't have a god to claim them roam endlessly as husks and form a wall of bodies around the City of Judgement).

From her perspective, she's not being unreasonable. But from the perspective of a mortal, she absolutely is.

"Now, I have a question for thee: what is the worth of a single mortal's life?"

This is a question she cannot answer properly.

I think a lot of characterization is lost whenever someone paints one of them as being totally in the right. But I also think you have to be invested in them as characters to want to see that characterization. If you want to write about Mystra, you have to try to get into her head, analyze the decisions she made, figure out why she thinks she was right, and follow the pattern.

Gale's sacrifice is a very predictable thing for her to ask for.

[dollysilena]

no grave can hold my body down

(i’ll crawl home to her)

ryoumen sukuna, before he was a curse, was once a man.

genre: female implied reader but can be read as gender neutral, reincarnation au, unrequited feelings, unedited ngl, inspired by work song by hozier, angst angst angst

long before ryoumen sukuna was a demon, the king of curses with four arms and two faces, he was once a man.

though, that has been long forgotten in history. sometimes, he even forgets it himself. the habits of being a cursed spirit had erased whatever was left of his mortal self from hundreds of years ago. he only enjoyed the carnal desires of blood, lust, and revenge. he had long forgotten what human emotions were, jealousy, anger, love. 

atleast he thought he forgot what all those were, up until he looked at you through the eyes of his new vessel.

ryoumen sukuna was once a man, who had a lover.

he swears his blood runs cold and he wasn’t even aware that could happen anymore. there you are, standing before him, hundreds of years after you died. 

over the course of a millennium of carnage and curses, your once distinct face had become hazy with time, until eventually he chose to forget you completely. he had no use for the memories of his once-human self. he was a demon now, afterall. but what a twisted curse chance of fate it was, that the reincarnation of his past lover had manifested infront of him, no, rather, it was infront of his new vessel. 

you had no idea who he was, much less that he was inside of yuuji itadori, watching you from afar.

he hadn’t even realized that curses could still feel and it repulsed him. what use could he have for you now? a mere human had no value to him. you don’t even remember your past life.

but he remembers it all.

it was easy to chose to forget, but there’s still an echo of you in his mind. the memories still crept through him like unrelenting roots to a tree. 

he remembers the way his hands, before they were covered in markings and his nails became claws, roamed your skin under the silk of your robes, as the cicadas buzzed outside and the first petals fell from the trees above you. your skin was illuminated by lantern light as he recalled the shape of your lips, stained like they bit into ripe fruit. but the memory that sears so deeply into his mind was the way you looked at him without fear.

there’s a bittersweet taste washing over his tongue, and it isn’t blood. he almost thinks it’s sorrow. it’s too similar to fear, for his liking. he swallows it back down, and buries it deep somewhere in himself where he hopes it will rot away.

he doesn’t act, no, that would be impulsive and too human. something he used to be. instead he watches you from the eyes of his vessel. 

and from his glimpses of you, even after hundreds of years, countless reincarnations, you’re still the same. for once, his focus isn’t on the simple demonic pleasures he’s grown accustomed to, they’re on you. a foolish human, the kind he so despises.

he wishes that it was as easy to despise you.

he feels you creeping through him, and not just in memories this time. it’s like webbing ivy, slowly but surely growing and entangling him. 

he recognizes the crinkle by your eyes when itadori gets you to smile, the familiar lips he begins to crave again, and worst of all, the tenderness of your eyes when you look at him without the thought of evil whispering in the back of your mind.

he wonders that if you’re still the same now, then maybe your love is still the same too.

but no, you’re not looking at him, you’re looking at the brat he’s trapped in.

he buries the grotesque thoughts of longing deep in the chasm of what used to be known as his heart. but he realizes it was never quite gone. 

it’s sickening really, he has no use for menial things like feelings, and he has no use for you. atleast that’s what he tells himself when he sees, feels, you press a chaste kiss onto itadori’s lips.

he tries to ignore the dull ache in his bones everytime you kiss itadori afterwards. but like your feelings for the damn brat he’s caged in, the dull ache grows into kindling, and slowly burns into a fire. 

it’s been so long since he’s felt anything that he almost can’t place his finger on what it could be, but he reit’s undoubtedly hatred. it consumes him like a fever.

it’s hatred for itadori, for making him watch this stupid puppy love from his internal cage. it’s hatred for himself for being foolish enough to degrade himself, the king of curses, into yearning for a human. it’s hatred for you, for making him feel again.

then came the deal.

“one: when i chant “extension,” you’ll hand over your body for one minute. two: you’ll forget this promise– i’ll promise that i won’t kill or injure anyone during that minute.”

of course he struck the deal as a means to his greater plan, but there was a whisper of a thought… he could see you again.

it’ll only just be once, he tells himself, just to finally put an end to this idiotic pining. it’ll be the means to an ends, and once it’s over, he’ll simply find a way to get rid of you. either from his thoughts or just entirely. he ignores the way he actually can’t bear the thought of that happening.

“extension.”

he then finds himself in a memory. the one he keeps replaying over and over.

the image is nearly identical, you laid beneath him with a flushed face as your delicate eyes gazing up at him without a trace of unease. he only realizes it’s not a memory when he realizes he’s in the modern age, where you aren’t outside listening to cicadas as cherry blossoms fell, but to whatever music you have playing as you laid snugly in your bed.

“yuuji?” you hum from beneath him. your voice makes him snap back to reality.

you seemingly hadn’t noticed the switch between the two. though, there would be no way to, considering that the markings strewn out over his body were only noticeable to himself and itadori. you, stupidly and thankfully, were blissfully unaware.

“what are you doing?” you giggled from beneath him, the sound too familiar for his liking. “kiss me already.”

he’s taken aback by the brazen request until he realizes you still think he’s itadori, your lover. for a brief moment, he’s repulsed to say he considers it. he should refuse, and extend himself back to his domain. while he’s done worser things than a simple kiss, kissing you seems too… vulnerable. it would anchor him too deeply into what he thinks is human. but you, laid beneath him, pliantly and unmistakably beautiful, makes him crave it too badly enough to reason anymore.

he finds his way to you, and the craving develops into a hunger. you’re warm to the touch, the once forgotten taste of your lips now familiar again. he feels the hairs on his neck rise when your hand gingerly comb through his locks as you melt beneath him. you’re consuming every inch of him and he feels as if he’s being burned away in a fire.

no bloodlust, carnage, or other carnal pleasure could satisfy him anymore. now that he’s remembered how it was like to touch you, to be touched by you, he couldn’t go back. not now, not ever again.

but the minute is over in the blink of an eye, and he finds himself in his domain, now left with only a pit in his stomach, and the feeling of you still ghosting on his lips.

ryoumen sukuna was once a human. but you still are. and you could never love a demon.

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

Fire in My Blood

Bane x Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Word count: 4908

Warnings: 18+, Non-con drug use, fuck or die (sort of), slight dub-con (but not really), unprotected sex, mainly PWP, unbeta'd

A/N: my first time writing smut so be gentle

You woke up in bed, slow and groggy. The pain in your head was rolling through you in waves and you thanked your drunk self for at least closing the curtains so there wasn’t too-bright sunlight burning through your eyelids. Idly, you hoped that whatever you couldn’t remember doing last night was worth a hangover this size. You shifted to cradle your head in your hands but your hands didn’t move. Panic washed over you, sudden and icy. Your hands were trapped above your head. 

Forcing the panic aside, you tried to take in your surroundings. You didn’t want to open your eyes yet, in case you were being watched, so you listened hard for something, anything, to tell you where you were. 

No footsteps, no shuffling, no breathing outside your own. Aside from our hands, you were lying comfortably on what you assumed was a bed, complete with a pillow under your head and a blanket that smelled freshly laundered. The room felt bigger than your bedroom and you could hear a kind of white noise outside the walls, getting louder and softer in intervals like–

Waves. Water. 

You must be near the docks. Probably one of the abandoned warehouses frequented by one of Gotham’s handful of criminal enterprises. 

Speaking of criminals, you thanked your lucky stars for the recent training in analyzing and understanding your environment from the man that still sent chills down the spine of most Gothamites. 

You didn’t understand how you had caught Bane’s attention but you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed it. It took some time between your underground meetings and the handful of times he visited your apartment through the fire escape but you had molded a sort of companionship. He was gentler with you when you weren’t training. The glimpses you got of Bane the Man and not just Bane the Weapon had inklings of longing for something more worming their way into your heart but you squashed them to the best of your ability. You knew who Bane was and knew he could never see you as something more than what you had. 

Taking a steadying breath, you slowly opened your eyes. Only a sliver of the room was visible through your eyelashes at first but you didn’t see anyone else around. You blinked your eyes open and looked toward your hands.

Plastic zip ties held you to the metal headboard, biting into your wrists. You flexed lightly, testing their strength, when a door to your left opened and a man in a long white lab coat walked in.

Jonathan Crane was an objectively handsome man. The whole evil mad scientist thing left a lot to be desired although, knowing him, he probably had a drug for that too. His attention was on a clipboard he was carrying. Talking to himself in soft murmurs, he strode confidently over toward your bed. 

“Ah look who’s awake!” He finally looked up at you and smiled, full and genuine. “Perfect timing.” His gaze raked over you, cool and calculating, and it made your skin crawl, suddenly aware that you were dressed in only your bra and panties from the night before. The thought of Crane undressing you while you were unconscious had bile rising in your throat. 

“What am I doing here?” you fought to keep your voice steady. 

“I needed a guinea pig for something I’ve been working on lately. I was out looking for suitable candidates last night and saw you out with your friends.”

Something must have shown on your face because Crane waved his hand dismissively. “They aren’t here. They had too much alcohol in their systems and it would’ve taken too long for it to metabolize. I couldn’t risk that altering my results.”

Now your blackout made more sense. You had been out with a small group of friends at a bar just celebrating the end of the work week. Things had gotten a little fuzzy but you just assumed it was due to one too many margaritas. Crane must have slipped something into your drink.

Anger flooded you. “You kidnapped me to use me as a test subject?”

“You shouldn’t sound so ungrateful! You’re helping the cutting edge of science! Of understanding the human brain!” He sounded so earnest as if he truly believed in his work without a care in the world that he kidnapped you for it. 

The panic you had been fighting down, hit you like a train. You were trapped on a bed with a madman who had plans for you and no one knew where the hell you were. You wondered how long it would be until anyone found your body. You had to get out. 

“I needed you to be awake before I started the test, though,” he explained. “It will be much easier to judge how quickly the effects start if you're conscious.” He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a syringe and vial. The pale purple, syrupy liquid in the vial seemed to swirl as Crane pulled it into the syringe, his brow furrowed in concentration. 

With the dose measured out, he turned back to you. You shifted as far away as your binds would allow, inadvertently pressing yourself further into the mattress.

“You’re a smart man,” you tried to reason with him, “You know who I spend my time with.” 

Explicitly connecting yourself to Bane wasn’t something you wanted to do - whatever you two had felt tenuous at best - but desperate times call for desperate measures. No one would be dumb enough to touch someone with any direct connection to the man, right?

“Oh, yes, I know,” Crane’s smile was predatory, “and I’m counting on him coming to save his little pet.”

His palm pressed the side of your face into the pillow, keeping your neck extended even as you thrashed against the bed. The needle pierced the tender skin and Crane’s eyes glittered in the dim light as he released the drug into you. 

“You crazy bastard!” Your wrists were bleeding freely now, slow trickles running down your forearms and dripping onto the sheets as you continued to try and pull yourself free.

Whatever he gave you didn’t hit all at once. It started in your chest, warm and slow, and radiated outward, but warm grew into too hot all too quickly, curled around your lungs and ribs, and squeezed. Your breath stuttered on the next exhale. Part of you expected to see smoke trailing out between your lips. Liquid fire pooled low in your stomach and you were suddenly, painfully, aroused.

“What the fuck?”

Your heart pounded in your ears, overpowering Crane’s monologuing no matter how hard you tried to concentrate on it. Fire raced in your veins and you pulled against your restraints, sparks licking your wrists. 

Through the haze in your brain you could barely make out Crane talking about Lust and Fever and Sex and Orgasm and Death. Even firing on all cylinders, you didn’t know if you could find a good combination of those words. 

Something in the distance caught his attention and he grinned like a shark, all predator and sharp teeth. Crane knew what it meant too. 

“He’s gonna tear you apart,” you hissed. 

“Oh, on the contrary,” he spoke slowly and looked in your eyes, making sure you understood every word, a condescending lilt in his tone, “I think he’ll send me a thank you gift after this.”

He left with a chuckle that sent a chill down your spine even with the growing furnace inside you. 

With Crane out of sight, you squirmed to try and break the zip ties again but the new sensations had you gasping. Your wrists didn’t hurt so much anymore and what little pain made it through to your awareness landed just on the side of pleasurable.  The blanket underneath you rubbed against you everywhere, everywhere, and your cheeks flamed when you noticed the wetness in your panties. You tried to force yourself to lay still - to stop and think about your next move - but your hips rolled anyway, searching for friction you wouldn’t find. 

You squeezed your thighs together, chasing the orgasm you could feel rushing at you just beyond your reach. The coil snapped and it flowed through you like cool water down your parched throat. It broke the haze just briefly. You gasped a breath like coming up out of water.

If it was possible for you to blush further, you would’ve when you opened your eyes and were met with Bane’s. How much had he seen? 

The man stood over you, stoic as ever, and gave nothing away. He watched you silently, taking in everything.

“This is not one of his usual toxins.” He finally spoke. It wasn't a question but you shook your head anyway. 

“He said it was something he had been working on.” You swallowed hard, fighting a shiver. "He didn't start really talking until he had already drugged me and I couldn’t focus. Something about fever and sex and death but..." you trailed off, nervous and unwilling to really finish that sentence. Shaking your head was a mistake you learned as nausea hit you. “Needed a test subject.”

Bane nodded slowly, hard eyes glinting off the light as he looked around the room. “There’s a camera,” he mused. “He’s watching.”

“Sick fuck,” you seethed. 

Bane huffed out something that could’ve been a laugh and wrapped his fingers around your wrist. You startled both of you by moaning lowly. His touch was like a soothing balm and lit match against your nerves at the same time. 

His eyes were on your face but his fingers didn’t move.  

“Fuck, I’m sorry- I don’t know-,” you stuttered. “Can’t think- Too fucking hot.” You clenched your teeth, cutting off the half-formed thoughts you couldn’t stop.

Calloused fingers brushed across your forehead and you bit back a whimper. 

“You have a fever.”

You nodded, eyes shut tight. There was a heavy pause.

“You are…aroused.”

You turned your face away from him but nodded again, shame rocketing through you. Tears fell against your will.

“Please just get me out of here,” you whispered.

The zip ties snapped easily under his hands and you had to clamp down on your mind straying to thoughts of feeling those rough fingers on your skin again. Your core throbbed at the mental image alone. You couldn’t help rubbing your thighs together, breath hitching. Vaguely, you realized you were gasping out a string of apologies when Bane shushed you, just a hiss leaking out of his mask.

“You are not in control of your body. Do what you must.” The words came out stiff, barely contained anger tingeing them but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you.

Dark eyes met yours as you searched his face, needing to see if he was serious. His sincerity was open and unwavering. The weight of his hand settled on your stomach, the warmth of his palm bleeding into the coil inside you and snapping it just as soundly as the zip ties. 

Your eyes rolled back and you groaned as that cooling wave shook through you, quieter this time. 

“It will be easier if I carry you out but it may be…uncomfortable for you.”

“Do what you must,” you parroted his words with a weak smile, hoping for levity.

A silent nod was the only reply and he was wrapping you up in the blanket you had been laying on. The texture was scratchy and it insulated the heat of your skin but you bit your tongue. Strong arms lifted you effortlessly. You buried your face in the blanket and settled against his chest as he moved. 

It was a position you had found yourself in before. You had a habit of falling asleep in places you shouldn’t and he often carried you to a place that wouldn’t have your back or neck screaming at you when you woke up. On one particular occasion, you had fallen asleep slumped over on the couch in your apartment and floated to awareness being lifted and carried to your bedroom. You felt like a child again, protected and cared for. Your nose pressed into his jaw, just under the line of his mask. He had laid you gently on your bed, still unmade from the morning, and brought the duvet up to your chin. You had tried to fight your way to full consciousness.

“Stay,” you breathed, afraid he wouldn’t hear. Afraid that he would hear and leave anyway. After a beat, the other side of your bed dipped with his weight, half laying, half sitting up against the pillows. You had rolled into him, soaking up his warmth. Later, you would  blame pressing your face into his chest on the fact that you had still been on the wrong side of consciousness.

His hand tentatively rested on your shoulder as if he didn’t know what to do with it. You let out a light hum, hoping to reassure him. A smile almost slid over your lips when his palm slid down along your spine to settle at the center of your back. 

Just before you slipped back into sleep, you swore you felt him press his mask against the crown of your head. 

“Little one,” Bane’s voice brought you out of the fog in your brain, “Are you with me?” 

You blinked your eyes open and lifted your head from the blanket cocoon. 

“Always,” you replied. You became mildly aware that you were in your apartment but you didn’t remember how you got there. How long had you been lost in your head?

“My men are taking care of Crane,” he said. You both knew what he meant but the fewer specifics you knew, the better. “Barsad will make sure that nothing from the camera he had in that room will be seen by anyone.” His grip on you tightened. “He will never touch you again.”

He deposited you on your bed and was standing over you once again. He didn't show any outward emotion. You didn't know what to say or how. 

"I'm sorry." You said anyway. It came out small and weak. Hell, you weren't even sure what you were sorry for. Getting kidnapped? Not being able to get out of the situation yourself? 

Your head was too full of feelings you didn't understand. You couldn't think straight. You had never been more aware of your own body before. The lingering feeling of Bane’s arms around you, the godawful blanket. You swore you could feel your blood flowing in your veins. 

Light fingertips ghosted across your forehead, pressing lightly on the creases between your eyebrows, and your eyelids fluttered closed. You bit your lip. 

"Does it hurt when I do this?" He moved his hand from your forehead to your wrist. His thumb rubbing just under the wound that the zip tie left. 

You shook your head, not trusting your ability to make any noise that wasn't wholly embarrassing. 

"I need to hear you say it." 

You swallowed hard. "No, it doesn't hurt. It’s like my body can't decide if it feels amazing or like I'm holding it next to an open flame." You rushed out. 

“What do you need?” he asked after a heavy pause.

A simple question that had your head spinning. Rapid fire flashes of his large frame over you, under you, those rough hands all over you, inside you. You bit down on a moan, nearly biting through your lip.

“Just talk to me. Please.” It came out shaky and too vulnerable. 

His brows furrowed. “That will not help with the effects of the toxin.”

Resolutely keeping your lips shut tight, another tear escaped down your cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb. 

“I cannot just sit by and do nothing when you’re suffering.”

You shook your head, the action making your head swim. “I can’t ask that of you. I won’t.”

His hand settled on your stomach. The pressure sent waves through you. The fire in your core roaring anew.

“You don’t have to ask. You just have to let me.”

Your glassy, tired eyes met his dark, earnest ones as you searched for something, anything, that would give you reason to say no. You weighed the option of just letting the toxin do what it would instead of ruining what you and he had. 

But you couldn’t deny that you wanted what he was offering.

“Okay.” You nodded lightly. 

You hissed as he shifted the blanket off of you. It felt like sandpaper against your highly sensitive skin. His gaze flicked up to you but kept on his mission, lightly tracing his fingers up your thighs. It might've tickled a little if you had a better handle on your nerves. 

There was only a slight pause in his movements before he was bending down to pull his boots off and then joining you on the bed, kneeling in front of you. His eyes searched your face as he spread your thighs, placing one of your legs on either side of his hips. You fought down every bit of embarrassment you could feel burning red on your cheeks and looked away.

“No,” he spoke softly but clearly. A calloused finger under your chin turned you back to meet his gaze. “Don’t look away, little one. You need to stay present and tell me if I do anything to hurt you or if you need me to stop. I want to help, not cause more harm. Understand?”

Only after you gave a small nod did he release your chin and return his hands to your inner thighs, higher than before. His thumbs rubbing small circles mere inches from where you needed him.

His eyes caught on the damp patch darkening the fabric of your panties. He made a single slow pass over your center with his thumb. You bit down on the inside of your cheek and let out a rough exhale, your fists curling into the sheets.

“Try to relax,” he rumbled, gaze flicking up to your face and back down. “I understand this must be unpleasant for you but fighting the toxin will prolong the effects and may make it worse.”

A whine escaped your clenched teeth as you forced your muscles to relax. His thumb began slow, even circles over your clit, like a reward. Pleasure rose quickly now that you had stopped pushing it down. 

 “Nothing said or done here will leave this room,” he assured you. “You are safe to do what you need to get through this.” He hooked a finger around damp fabric and pulled your panties to the side. The first brush of a callused fingertip sent a jolt up your spine. “Tell me that you understand.”

Your hips rocked minutely, chasing his touch. “I understand.” 

“Good girl.”

His finger slid inside you in one push and your walls tightened around him, sending you over the edge again. You couldn't be embarrassed about the noise you made even if you tried.

The toxin’s haze faded marginally again. In all honesty, you had hoped that an orgasm brought on by someone else would have been all it would take but, of course, Crane’s concoctions are never that simple.

As many times as you indulged fantasies of Bane in your bed, though you would never admit it aloud, you didn't want it to happen like this. Not when it was only like an obligation for him. 

The finger steadily pumping inside you became two and the stretch brought you out of your thoughts with a whine. 

Bane slowed but didn’t stop. “Does it hurt?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, no, it’s just a lot,” you reassured him, moaning around the last word when picked up his pace again. “It’s like I’m feeling everything double or triple.”

“It’s good then?” 

He curled his fingers slightly, searching. 

“So good.” You choked on a gasp when he found the spot inside you that made your toes curl. Those rough fingertips massaged tight circles around it while his thumb copied the movement around your clit. 

Moans flowed from your lips unhindered. One of your hands reached down to clutch at his wrist while the other tightened in the sheets. 

You could feel the crest coming but it was just out of reach. Your head thrashed on the pillow, grinding your teeth. 

"Fuck, I can't. It's not-" you stopped with a whine, tears gathering in your eyes. Your hips rolled of their own accord in search of friction.

“It’s not enough,” he finished for you. 

"Crane told me that you'd send him a thank you gift for this." You blurted out. "Like this was something you wanted."

He froze. 

“He’s wrong, right? Of course he is,” you rambled, squeezing your eyes shut tight. “You don’t want this. Why the hell would you? I’m just me. An annoyance even on a good day, a hindrance on any other. I’m not-” 

Pressing his hand over your lips, he stopped your rambling. 

"Not like this." It was quiet but you heard it, you knew you did. Your gaze met his again and you just stared at him for a heartbeat then two, willing yourself to take a chance. Telling yourself it would be worth it. 

Fuck it. If it goes wrong, you can just blame it on the toxin.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling yourself further toward him. Your heat pressed against the obvious tent in the front of his pants. His hand fell from your lips as you dragged yourself up to him, close enough to share breath.

“Please.” You ran your nose along his cheek and quickly unhooked your bra. His eyes flicked down briefly once the lace was removed and laying on the floor.

“Little one,” he murmured.

"You're the only person I would trust with this." You pressed a firm kiss to the front of his mask.

A harsh breath hissed out from behind the grate. He took only a brief pause to gather himself before moving off the bed stripping quickly. Your eyes raked over every inch of newly exposed skin. Lightly tanned, criss-crossed with scars, and stretched over his wide frame and well-built muscles. You’d seen him shirtless before under much different circumstances and it was a sight you had guiltily used on nights when you were alone and you knew this was something that you would add to your shameful late night fantasies until the day you died. 

His cock slapped against his stomach as his pants hit the floor. The sight alone had a whimper crawling up your throat. He was thick, flushed red and leaking, and you couldn’t tell if the need to feel him inside you was more the toxin or your own. 

Your breath caught when his fingertips curled into the top hem of your panties. His gaze held yours until the lace joined his pants on the floor and he returned to his spot between your thighs.

He wrapped a hand around himself, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock.

“Are you with me?” His eyes searched yours.

“Always,” you breathed. 

He filled you slowly, measured, careful, and watching your face the entire time. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you and he was acutely aware of the size difference between the two of you. His fingers flexed against your thighs, keeping you still in his grasp. 

Even with the toxin’s effects on you, the stretch of Bane filling you had a twinge of discomfort filtering through the pleasure otherwise washing over you. 

He finally bottomed out and you let out a low groan. You couldn’t decide where to keep your hands and they flitted from his shoulders to the bedsheets to his forearms to his abs, anything you could touch. Maybe if you found something to hold on to, you could keep yourself from floating away. 

Bane grunted as you clenched around him and minutely ground his hips into you. 

“Shit, move please,” your fingers dug into his forearms. 

You expected him to be rough and fast. Simply chasing release with his mission as a sole focus. But this was something else entirely. He was still focused but his mission was you, not just getting off. He was curled over you, forehead pressed into your shoulder, caging you in with his forearms and rolling his hips into you. It felt amazing.

But it wasn’t enough. You could tell he was holding back, even if it was for your sake, and, if this was the only time you got to experience Bane like this, you wanted all of him.

“Bane, baby, please.” You gripped the back of his neck and pulled his face up from its hiding place. Flicking your eyes up to meet his wild ones, you planted a firm kiss onto his mask, running the tip of your tongue along the grate. “I’m not gonna break.” You dug your heels into his ass, urging him on. His eyes darkened at your words, pupils already blown wide. His hips snapped forward with a grunt, forcing a gasp from between your lips. He levered up on his knees, towering over you, as he pulled out almost entirely and wrapped your hips in a bruising grip. 

A growl slid out from behind his mask as he looked down at you.

“Fuck yes,” you moaned out. Your eyes rolled back when he filled you again, impossibly deeper than before. 

Long gone was the caring pace he had set before. Every one of your favorite fantasies of rough sex with Bane couldn’t compare to the real thing. Part of you was already excited to see the vibrant bruises you’d find on your hips later. 

Bane’s angle was perfect, the head of his cock rubbing against your g-spot with devastating precision. 

“Oh fuck, right there, please.” Your fingers curled around his wrists and your back arched up off the bed. 

You bit your lip hard to try and stop the string of embarrassing whines escaping with every powerful thrust. 

“No,” something akin to a snarl clawed out of Bane’s throat.

He pinned your wrists above your head, holding you fast with one hand. He ran the thumb of his other over your bottom lip, spit-slicked and bitten red, and pulled it from between your teeth. 

“I want to hear every single noise of pleasure you make,” he growled. 

You caught his thumb between your teeth and curled your tongue around it. His fiery gaze dropped to your lips as you sucked, drawing the calloused pad deeper into your mouth.

“I’ve heard those pretty sounds fall out of your lips countless times, I’ve heard you call my name at night, don’t you dare hide them from me now.”

He hooked his thumb behind your teeth and pulled down. A hard snap of his hips forced a loud cry from between your lips. 

“Good girl.” He chuckled darkly.

He released your jaw and trailed his hand down your neck. His fingers found your nipple, spit-slick thumb circling the bud before pinching it between rough fingers. You squirmed beneath him as he twisted and pulled, the bite of pain only serving to amplify the pleasure coursing in your blood. He showed the same treatment to your other nipple and you fought weakly against the hold he had on your wrists. 

“Please, fuck, please,” you moaned. At this point, you didn’t even know what you were begging for. Your head was fuzzy with the tightening of the coil in your stomach. Each drag of his cock inside you, each grind against your clit, feeling wholly and solely overwhelmed by the man above you, nothing else existed outside this moment. 

“Let go, little one,” he purred. He reached down and rubbed tight circles over your clit. “Give it to me. Let me feel you come on my cock.”

You screamed his name as the knot in your core snapped hard and your vision went white. Bane snarled and buried himself to the hilt finding his own release as you lost yourself in the waves of your orgasm crashing one after another. 

Floating back to yourself, you felt a firm body under your cheek and tentative fingertips tracing along your back. 

The toxin had burned itself out, no longer smoldering in your core. Now, you were afraid. Was all that just because of the toxin? Had Bane just reacted to you? Of course, he had offered but what if none of it really meant anything to him? Hell, it probably didn’t. Just a means to an end.

You didn’t realize you had started shivering until Bane moved you to lay over him and wrapped his arms and the duvet around you. 

You slid your hands under his shoulders and pressed your face into his neck. 

“Are you with me?” you whispered, fighting to keep your voice steady.

A beat of silence and his arms tightened around you. 

“Always.”

The talk that both of you knew needed to happen, could wait just a little while longer. For now, you were content to stay in the moment. You placed a slow line of kisses down his neck and pressed your nose into the juncture of his shoulder instead. 

“Sleep now, little one,” he rumbled beneath you. 

Just before unconsciousness took you, you felt him press his mask into the crown of your head. 

[reverieparacosm]

hi! could you please write yandere!sauron x fem reader hcs? maybe sauron had a dream of this woman who fulfills a prophecy he read that would make him more powerful so he sends his minions to bring her to him and when he meets her there is a magical bond between them and he is obsessed with her

Prophecy: Yandere!Sauron x F!Reader

Warnings: Yandere, possessive behaviors, manipulation, gaslighting, kidnapping, slavery, (Sauron is already a red flag -)

Note: Your wish is my command! I am weak for Yandere Sauron.

Remember kids - please do not enslave people just because you saw them in dreams

Sauron's thirst for power is unending

As the Dark Lord of Mordor, he is always on the lookout for ways to increase his influence and rule over Middle-Earth

One night, he is visited by a vision of a woman who would help him fulfill a prophecy that would grant him even more power. This vision ignites a fiery determination within him, and he sets his minions on the task of finding her and bringing her to him

His servants search far and wide, but the woman is elusive and hard to find. Months pass without success, but finally, one of his minions stumbles upon her during a routine scouting mission

He brings Sauron the news, and the Dark Lord is overjoyed. He immediately orders his minions to keep a close eye on her and bring him regular reports

But Sauron's desire for this mysterious woman grows stronger with each passing day. He wants her for himself, and orders his minions to bring her to him

She is everything he has hoped she would be - powerful and capable of fulfilling the prophecy. The moment they meet, Sauron feels a magical bond between them that he has never experienced before. He is immediately obsessed with her, unable to tear his eyes away from her

With a single glimpse, he is captivated by her beauty. So much so that he takes her face in his hand before she has even noticed his presence. His ice-cold mental glove caresses her cheeks and he absorbs every delicate detail, leaving her with an unsettling sensation

When she turns her head to the side, Sauron becomes more aggressive. He grabbs her chin with one hand and held her neck with the other, forcing her to look into his eye

Despite being an evil, dark lord with a reputation for cruelty, he develops a soft spot for her

He tells his minions not to harm her and threatens those who do with severe punishment. He does not want to lose her or drive her away, for he knows that she is the key to fulfilling his ultimate goal - becoming the most powerful being in Middle-Earth

"I would rather burn the world than see it harm you."

Sauron spends every waking hour with her, pouring his heart and soul into their relationship. He is desperate to learn everything he could about her, her abilities, and her place in the grand scheme of things. He is certain that she is the one he has been seeking for so long, the one who would help him achieve true greatness

As the days pass, the bond between them only grows stronger, and Sauron's obsession with her only deepens. He knows that the prophecy is within his grasp, and he would do whatever it takes to fulfill it with her by his side

The woman is initially reluctant to trust Sauron. But as he charms her with his words and gifts, she begins to fall under his spell

Sauron soon begins to see the woman as his property and becomes increasingly possessive and demanding. He expects her to devote all of her time and energy to him, and becomes violent when she tries to resist

"Your heart beats in harmony with mine, the two inextricably linked in a bond so strong that no other force can break it. You are mine, and I am yours, our destinies intertwined forevermore."

Sauron is constantly monitoring the woman, using magic to invade her thoughts and dreams. He knows her every move and thought, and he uses this knowledge to control her

Sauron revels in her obedience, especially when she sits at his feet as he holds court with his many war generals. It is a constant reminder of his power over her, and he loves having her as his symbol. Even when he is deep in conversation, he still takes a moment to stroke her hair, relishing in her submission. He senses the tension in her body, and it only increases his satisfaction

"There is no one like you, my beautiful darling. The way you bend to my will pleases me greatly. You are a constant reminder of the power I have over you, and it thrills me to no end. Even in the midst of battle, I cannot help but take a moment to stroke your hair, relishing in your submission. Your body trembles with tension, and it only increases my satisfaction. Never forget who you belong to. I am your master, and you will forever be my symbol."

The woman is conflicted about Sauron's behavior, but she is unable to resist the powerful bond between them. She tries to convince herself that she can change him, but as time goes on, she realizes that he is too deeply engrained in his dark ways to change

If she tries to escape, Sauron would likely use his powerful magic to track her down and capture her

He would stop at nothing to keep her under his control. If the woman manages to escape his grasp, Sauron would likely become more obsessed than ever, and he would use all of his resources to find her and bring her back to him. He would stop at nothing to keep her by his side, even if it meant using his most dark and nefarious tactics to do so

"You are my most prized treasure, my greatest possession. No one on this earth or beyond it will ever take you away from me. Our love is eternal, a bond that cannot be broken or tarnished by any force in existence."

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Morally Questionable Anime Milfs Finals

Propaganda:

Milsiril -

"she adopts orphan children of other races (she is an elf (elves live to be around 400 years old), she adopts tall-men, halflings, etc. (races which live to be ~60 years old)), and raises them and teaches them whatever they desire. she means well and has good intentions but she doesn't understand her children's backgrounds/cultures. as a member of a long lived race, she will always think of her adoptive children from shorter lived races as... well... children. they will always be young kids to her, even if they are fully grown and mature. this leads her to smother them and be overprotective of them. And she refuses to see their perspective and desire to be treated as grown adults. But she does genuinely love them, and her adoptive son who we see in the story is fond and grateful to her, even if he is extremely frustrated with how she treats him like a child. its a complicated relationship."

Eva -

"AVOIDING SPOILERS AS FAR AS POSSIBLE, her moral ambiguity is a deeply important part of the story. Like Episode 3 is in some ways a battle between her better and worse nature, between her love for her family and her resentment and bitterness to her brother.

As a mother to George, seemingly she's raised him very well, turning him into a perfect gentleman and preparing him for a successful life. However, this was all part of her scheming against her brother, trying to mold him into a suitable heir for the Ushiromiya fortune and usurp her nieces position. She made sure he spent every waking moment in study, leaving him socially stunted and resentful of his peers who knew how to make friends. In a way she's using him for her own petty resentment against her elder brother, but she's also trying to set him up for a good life in the only way she understands.

With Ange, things get both harsher and more complicated. Yes, after the horrific tragedy of 1986, Eva becomes a cruel and abusive adoptive mother to Ange. But, it's possible that, at first, she made a sacrifice on Ange's behalf that slowly twisted her into the monster she became. And part of episode 8 is showing the possibility of Eva becoming a good foster mother to Ange, and genuinely loving her, (and raising the question of whether that love was really in Eva's heart, or if it's just a comforting fantasy)

I know I'm saying "just trust me" because of spoilers, but this is a big part of the ending of the story and the overall theme: ambiguity, and the difficulty in knowing another's heart, and what we should believe about others given that. Maybe her actions (and her possible or alleged actions) are too evil to call her morally questionable. Maybe there's enough goodness in her to be in the poll. Hopefully I've expressed some of it in less than one million words. I'll leave it in your hands."

[lazywrites]

Gravity

Kurt wagner x fem!reader (2k) Reader is a villain, suggestive, bad writing, i wrote this practically asleep.

Par 2 of Nemesis

After a few meetings, Kurt doesn't know what to make of his new friend or what to do about his feelings towards her.

Who were you really? A lost soul looking for guidance, that was what Kurt had heard when he first passed by the square, a fearsome terrifying villain, a powerful mutant, a terrorist, a simple woman made to be an outcast in a society she helped build.

But then, he had also been called many things in his lifetime, most of them unpleasant as well. And if the likes of Magneto and the Hellfire Club could be considered heroes by the population, why not her? Nemesis used to be an just entity that existed in this world more than anything else, uncontrollable and mysterious, a powerful mutant of unknown origin, who could bend the Earth and stars to her will.

The power over gravity, it pushes and pulls, a careful balance must be kept. Come close and you might end up bent out of shape, too far and you might be lost forever.

Nemesis has always strived to live in balance, her hands are light and helpful and her heart is as heavy as a stone, That was most of what he got by talking with the others. In truth, Kurt had invited everyone he could, well liked or not, religious or not he didn’t pick and choose when announcing to them his invitation, it wouldn’t be right, he had heard a story of her before, from his sister Anna no less, Of the somber night the terrible villain Nemesis halted the movement of the stars on the sky for a few hours, affecting the tides the weather and everything in between, and was defeated by the X-men, saving the whole world and even then he had wondered why, why would she do such a thing? It seems illogical even from the perspective of pure evil.

A few days after their fist meeting he reminded himself to ask, and she simply looked down towards him as always.

“Because i could.”

And it did not make sense to him, He had to admit, it was hard to merge the two images he had of this woman into one, and Kurt found that he became disappointed in himself, the simple act of even trying is foolish. People have many sides to them, some that are full of hate and lust for power, and some that will hold your hands tenderly and pull you closer, looking to make you smile.

Both sides of this woman haunt him at night, Nemesis and Y/N.

Nemesis stands over his bed at night and smiles down at him like a shark, dark and scornful in a way that makes him freeze, unable to move he is completely powerless against her as he’d probably be in a fight, but they’re not fighting. And her tongue is mean but oh so sweet in his mouth, she does not spare insults to his virtue in those moments and he is completely at her mercy, hypnotized and helpless to resist her pull. Like a black hole she steals all the light from his room and the breath from his lungs when she presses up against him, sometimes it’s one of her boots, sometimes its her body against his but the result is always the same.

It depends on what kind of nightmare this is meant to be, Some nights his body and hers are so entwined that it’s hard to distinguish one from the other, she’ll whisper close to his ear and demean him until he can’t take the teasing anymore. Nemesis will simply step on him and declare that she wants ‘to see him squirm’, he’ll be well acquainted with the sole of whatever she was wearing that day when they talked, and it’s agonizing and euphoric at the same time, a bittersweet nightmare.

And he knows it’s wrong, wrong and honestly embarrassing but he’s been caught by her more than once looking down at her shoes.

Y/N is there too.

In his sweetest dreams she comes to him, but not to stand over his bed, she lays with him and her presence electrifies his body in opposition to Nemesis. And the need to move makes him shudder, the need to touch her and run his hands all over the object of his desire feels right this time, she’ll bring her face right next to his until they breathe the same air and Kurt will finally be able to see it again, the soft interior beneath the hardened shell of her persona. It’s not like he has any difficulty getting to this side of her, but in his dream, it’s more present than ever before and he can touch her and kiss her as much as he wants, the real her.

Waking up is the hardest part, ever since they met Kurt knows that his sleep schedule has worsened considerably, some days he’ll want to sleep until he can’t anymore, to continue living in his imagination just a little longer, he’ll look himself in the mirror and tell his reflection to stop having these fantasies, that his new acquaintace is dangerous, just like everyone else tells him. It won’t work, despite his doubts Kurt admits to himself only in his head and nowhere else that he is fascinated by her, that she has his full attention whenever they see each other even if in passing.

He doesn’t know her, but somehow he does. It’s strange but he’s seen her real self, and he knows her real name now, there is no reason to be afraid of Y/N, she was genuine that night, and he remembers the warmth in her eyes every hour of every day.

 “why are you messing with my head, Meine Liebe?”

He’s being pulled towards her, and it’s hard to resist his newest temptation.

Ultimately he doesn’t think of anyone else he’s met like he does you, they all have many facets to their personalities sure, but the difference between what he’s heard about her past and the present is confusing, He doesn’t know what to do with her, with you, his friend.

And what if he asks you about it? What would you say? Probably something bold.

“Because i can.”

You’ve said it before, you won’t ever ask for forgiveness, maybe that’s why the answer he got that day was so nonchalant, in the end it doesn’t matter, He should focus.

After that day in the rooftop you two met again, and kept meeting over and over, you never joined the others in their reunions but if he looked up towards the rooftop of Genosha’s makeshift church you’d always be there waiting.

Kurt didn’t dare to climb up to the rooftop and preach for you to come down, so he joined you, for the better part of 3 months you two meet every week up in the roof and just talk, or sit next to each other in silence, staring at the moon. And he enjoys it for more reasons than he can put into words, you never say it but he can also see it on your face that you enjoy spending time with him, he wants to know more about you and ask all about the questions that have been brewing in his mind for more than a month, he wants to know why you did what you did, wants to know if your time together is helping, wants do know if you think of him as much as he thinks of you.

The doubt in his mind never really leaves, but Kurt doesn’t mind when he can focus on staring at your profile, he wants to commit to memory the way your eyes gleam when you stare at the moon, like it belongs to you, and in a way it does.

“You’re staring again.”

He blinks, you wait for him to answer without even turning to face him.

“You look good, i mean-You’re in your element, it looks good.” A slip of the tongue, and he hopes you won’t notice.

“Hmm” You turn towards him with and arch an eyebrow “Yes, i like staring at the moon, from here it feels like i could reach out and grab it.”

It seems you haven’t noticed how flustered he became under your stare, Lucky.

“Yes, you’re right, i do wish i could touch it sometimes.”

You smile at him, a mischievous smile.

“I could get it for you.” and don’t wait for him to react “You would be touching it, but only once.”

He smiles back at you “I’d rather just look then.” And directs his gaze to the sky, to distract you so you can look and he can turn back to watch you again.

You don’t take his bait, not yet.

“I’ll take you flying someday.”

It’s a nice thought, so nice it makes him feel guilty, for doubting you and questioning your intentions, and for fantasizing about you, as much as Kurt wants you to be vulnerable he can’t help but feel guilty when you are, even if his guilt comes from things that he can never tell you.

He can’t express with simple words how that makes him feel, so for now a smile will have to suffice.

“Actually i’ll let you pick the day, since i’m in a good mood right now.” And there you are again, putting him on the spot.

Kurt opens his mouth and forces his tongue, which seems more like an useless weight on his mouth at the moment, to form a few words that are comprehensible at least.

“You want to go out?”

“Yes.” You don’t even blink.

“With me?”

You’re still staring at him and he feels oddly exposed, almost indecent, but his heart is beating fast, so fast. Just like when you stand over him in his dreams, when you lay beside him and whisper how much you want him.

You lean into his space a little, just a few centimeters but Kurt feels like you are closer than ever, and then you plant one of your hands on his bicep, an action that should by no means seem as seductive as it does in his eyes.

“Yes, i want to go out with you.” And he just can’t leave you hanging.

“I want it too.” He hopes you won’t notice the slight tremble in his body, it’s not like you haven’t held him close before, you did it on the first day you two met, but this is different, it feels like you could read his mind and peer into his darkest secrets with just this simple touch.

“Just say when.” The power your half lidded stare has over him is undeniable, and Kurt knows that he can spend the whole day telling himself in the mirror that this meant nothing, it is real, not one of his midnight fantasies, you’re real and you’re waiting for his answer, for him to tell you that he wants you.

He takes in some of the cold night air and his tongue is once again an useless weight on his mouth, but he has to try. “Tomorrow then, Ja?.”

You nod. “Tomorrow.” And then look down towards the streets below “A member of the council out with me, people will gossip.”

“Let them gossip all they want, it is only natural for us to be seen together.” You arch your eyebrow again, questioning what he means “We can say that it was a battle for the ages.”

And you laugh for a moment before your face goes back to its normal state, a little moment that makes his heart beat faster for the rest of your time together. It’s hard for him to come to terms with it, his desire for you, his love for his new friend and fear of the fearsome foe you could become.

But for now this is enough, it is enough when you’re there. By the time he’s back home and in bed, he’ll crave your presence desperately, and by the time he wakes up full of guilt for his thoughts he’ll want less of you poisoning his mind.

But the knowledge that you’re there, and that you’ll be together with him again tomorrow is enough to keep him grounded in the moment, grounded, orbiting you and hoping you won’t bend or break him.

He’ll most likely never touch the moon, but just admiring it with you is enough, for now it has to be.