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#the price of our peace

inkskinned · 5 months

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i think a lot about exactly 1 thing from the roman empire: the concept of bread and circus. the idea was that if your population was fed and entertained, they wouldn't revolt. you are asking us to give up our one small life, is the thing - for under 15 dollars an hour.

what would that buy, even. i am trading weekends and late nights and my back health. i am trading slow mornings and long walks and cortisol levels. i am trading sleep and silence and peace. for ... this. for what barely-covers-rent.

life really is more expensive right now. you aren't making that up. i make almost 3 times what i did 5 years ago, and despite an incredibly equal series of bills - i am still struggling. the most expensive line item i added was to own a dog. the money is just evaporating.

we were okay with it because it's a cost-benefit analysis. i could handle the customer harassment and standing all day and the manager's constantly changing temperament - i was coming home to hope, and my life planned in a blue envelope. three hours would buy me my dog's food for a month. i can give up three hours for him, for his shiny coat and wide, happy mouth. three days could be a new mattress, if i was thrifty. if i really scrimped and saved, we could maybe afford a trip into the city.

recently i cried in the car about the price of groceries.

business majors will be mad at me, but my most inflammatory opinion is that people should never be valued at the same place as products. your staff should not be a series of numbers in an excel sheet that you can just "replace" whenever you need something at that moment. your staff should be people, end of sentence.

it feels like someone somewhere is playing a very bad video game. like my life is a toy. like someone opened an app on their phone and hired me in diner dash ultra. they don't need to pay me well or treat me alright - they can always just show me the door. there is always someone more desperate, always someone more willing.

but i go to work and know i could save for years and not afford housing. i am never going to own my own home, most likely. i have no idea how to afford her ring, much less the wedding. my dog doesn't have his own yard. everything i love is on subscription. if i lose my job, i have no "nest egg" to catch my falling.

this thin life - they want me to give up summer for it. to open my mouth and throat and swallow the horrible hours and counted keystrokes. they want me to give up mountains and any non-federal holiday. to give up snow days. to give up talking to my mom whenever i want. to give up visiting the ocean and hearing the waves.

bread and circus worked for a while, actually. it was the kind of plan that would probably now be denounced by republicans as socialist commie liberal pronoun bullshit.

but sometimes i wonder if we should point them to the part of the history book that says: it worked until it didn't.

#spilled ink #warm up #writeblr #i have a good job please shut the fuck up before telling me to get a better job #girl i have vision and dental.#if u blame the victim that's wild. do u know about economic systems

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jetrocks · 1 year

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Non-Britons! Instead of being distracted by the pomp and fanfare of the coronation, here’s a reminder that:

The coronation was funded by tax-payer money. This same tax could have gone towards the cost of living crisis. People are starving and freezing to death as this is going on.

Protests (peaceful or otherwise) are illegal now. A lot of anti-monarchists are being arrested for simply holding signs.

Our government is currently trying to push through a revision to the Equality Act that will exclude trans and non-binary individuals.

Oil companies have made a record profit in the past couple of years. Oil and gas prices aren’t rising because of an inflation issue.

Our NHS is crumbling because funding is going to stupid projects like this coronation.

#uk politics #coronation #I have to laugh otherwise I’ll cry #at least the Tories are losing

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rebirthgarments · 15 days

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TW: Chemical w-rfare, Ab-rtion

Urgent Ask to evacuate Nara, a 🍉 disabled woman with MS who also has pancreatic cancer due to chemical w-rfare.

Support by financially contributing to her @FedUp4Palestine vetted funhnd-raizer (that I personally vetted): givebutter.com/NaraMedicalAid

+ resharing/ reposting this post!

I, Sky Cubacub- a Fed up 4 Palestine team member, have been in direct contact with Nara to get to know her and her story more over the past few days. We have become fast friends due to so many overlapping symptoms of our disabilities. Nara’s story caught my eye because I have post-viral ME/CFS which many times is a precursor to MS. I really want my disability community to show up for her to get this campaign funded that is so close to my heart so that she can continue medical treatment.

We have chatted extensively! During our chats, I found out from Nara that she had not previously had health issues until she was exposed in the white phosphorus attack in 2008. The long lasting damage and effects of phosphorus continue to compound and become more and more disabling to this day, even after 16 years.

Here is her story in her own words (edited for clarity):

“Hi I'm Nara,

I'm a cancer and multiple sclerosis patient. I need treatment, examinations, and follow-up on a regular basis, but the hospitals in which I used to follow up were bombed and the other one was turned into military barracks. All I need now is to leave Gaza for treatment, preserve my life, and live with my family in peace.

We're a family of 4, including my 12 and 7 year old children.

I had been diagnosed with a tumor in the pancreas as a result of inhaling phosphorus in a previous war. A couple years after being exposed to phosphorus, I became pregnant, and the fetus was pressing on the tumor, which drew the doctor’s attention to the cancer. My fetus was emergency aborted, and the spleen, 80% of the pancreas, and part of the small intestine were removed. I complained every now and then of a lot of pain as a result of the removal of part of the pancreas. I was having follow up care in the Turkish Friendship Hospital for hematology and tumors. But since the beginning of October, I have not been able to follow up because the hospital has turned into a military barracks.

The remaining part is talking about multiple sclerosis:

In 2018, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. I had many complications, such as inflammation of the seventh nerve in the eye, the inability to walk with balance, movement with difficulty, and many symptoms. I was then required to take 12 injections every month and many medications and vitamins. I was following up at the Nasser Medical Complex in Khan Yunis, but unfortunately the hospital was out of service due to the war. So for a long time I have not received any injections. MS is truly difficult and it controls my life completely, and the attacks occur in many and varied ways.”

A note about her breathing apparatus:

Because people in displacement have to wait in long queues and pay to use the bathroom, Nara had started to restrict her water intake because of a UTI she never has been able to heal from. This has created a problem with raised levels of potassium, so doctors have placed her on oxygen for fear of the potassium affecting her heart.

Goals

she needs at least $15,000 to evacuate

2 adults at $5,000 each

2 children at $2,500 each

this price is subject to increase due to the cost of registration for evacuation continuing to go up

The other money will go to the cost of treatment and living costs.

Nara chooses to stay anonymous because she has had to mask her disabilities so much that only her family knows about her MS and Cancer, so we have not linked her instagram, but we are in direct contact with her and can verify that she is who she says she is! Because of this, she cannot promote her own fundraiser, so it is our job to collectively do it for her!

[Image Description: a digital illustration by @k8deciccio of Nara, a Pal-eh-stienian woman wearing a black hijab/outfit with purple highlights. She has a breathing apparatus that is bulbous that goes in her nose. Text Reads: Help Narawith Cancer and MS Treatment, She Must Evacuate with her family of 4. $30k goal givebutter.com/NaraMedicalAid . There is a QR code in the bottom right corner that goes to her support link. The @FedUp4Palestine logo is in the top left corner.]

#gaza genocide #gazaunderfire #stand with gaza #news on gaza #war on gaza #gaza strip #free gaza #gaza #gazaunderattack #save gaza #mutual aid #i personally vetted this fundraiser #disabled and cute #disabilityculture #disabilityarts #disabilityjustice #multiple sclerosis #cancer #pancreatic cancer

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feyascorner · 3 months

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When you tell Astarion that your favorite feature of his are his wrinkles---the smile lines in particular---he nearly faints on the spot, jaw-dropping in utter disbelief as he stares at you in horror.

"I do not have wrinkles."

"You also can't see yourself."

"I know enough to know I'm a vampire! An immortal being! Aging, is below me, and I'll remain forever youthful while everyone else develops those wretched creases."

Despite his words, his finger reaches to rub at his skin inquisitively, as if he's feeling for any imperfections. It's cute, you think. He doesn't seem to agree.

Snorting, you roll your eyes playfully. "You asked me what physical aspect I liked about you most. You have your answer."

"Yes, something beautiful."

"It is beautiful."

"Darling," he says, squinting. "Nobody thinks of wrinkles when asked what they seek in a partner. Haven't you seen Jaheira put all those herbs on her face while our younger companions sleep blissfully beside her? The price of time, they call it."

"You're not young either."

He gasps, feigning offense. "I am--physically, that is."

You sigh, shrugging as you reach for your brush on the bedside drawer, ignoring his helpless tugs to bring you back to bed. "Fine then. I like your eyes."

"Well now it doesn't feel as sincere."

You deadpan, whipping your head around to shoot him a tired glare, but he's already broken out into a grin. Wordlessly, he sits up, plucking the brush out of your hands and shifting so you're situated practically on his lap. Slowly, he begins to brush the knots out of your bedridden hair, and you stare out the window, basking in his presence. His hands feel soft as they brush against your shoulder.

It's nice to indulge in moments like this from time to time.

The peaceful silence is broken as he sets down the brush.

"What about it do you find so alluring?" he asks, pooling your hair into one of his palms. He reaches for the string loosely hanging around his wrist with the other. "Other than the fact that I wear it flawlessly."

"They're easier to see when you're smiling," you mumble. "Your smile's always been a charm of yours, as fake as it was when we first met."

He pauses momentarily, only resuming to tie your hair a split second later. "And now?"

"It's a real smile," you reply. "So I like it."

He blinks.

Then, Astarion pushes your hair to one shoulder, leaning to rest his chin on the crook of your shoulder. "...I didn't realize there was such a sentiment in your answer."

"Will you stop complaining about looking old now?"

"I can't guarantee that, even if all the gods above were to will it," he grins, and it earns a stifled laugh on your part. "But...I suppose I don't despise the answer as much..."

You turn your head a tad, luring his face closer to yours with a finger on his chin. "I wouldn't be so sure. I'm very convincing, I hear."

"Are you now?"

You nod, holding either side of his face in your palms now. "If I must convince you of the beauty I see in you, then I will."

He kisses the inside of your hand. "I'm sure you will, darling."

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 #fluff

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 4 months

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DPXDC prompt. Dead on main.

Okay, Danny’s revenge for Jason through the Joker murder is fine.

But imagine the wrath of the Ghost King who responds to a call for help from his boyfriend and finds Red Hood with his throat cut and bleeding. Aside from it, there’s a bloody batarang on the roof. And it just pisses the Phantom off. Bat just left main treasure of his core to die.

Danny is still terrified even when Frostbite confirms that Jason will survive. Dan’s future is still fresh in his memory. That’s probably why when the councilman takes him off hospital ward duty to clarify what His Majesty wants as the guarantor of the Peace Treaty with demon race and what price to set for summons from cults Danny answers without a second thought.

Phantom: Batman.

Ghost: From a cult, Your Majesty?

Councillors have long been accustomed to Phantom giving strange requests so that people would not have the opportunity to really summon him.

Phantom: From the cult, from demons, ghosts or elves. Whatever. I need Batman and I need him yesterday. I give any reward to whoever delivers him to me, the price will be fair.

Ghost: Your word is our command.

~~~~~

In Gotham it’s 4 AM when Constantine is calling an emergency Justice League meeting.

'What did you do, Bats?' Shazam asks with undisguised concern.

~~~~~

Bonus points if Jason has to teleport himself directly to the JL space station and stop his feral lover from murder. Yeah, this is definitely not how he planned to reveal who was hiding under the Red Hood.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dpxdc crossover #dpxdc prompts #dead on main #dead on main ship #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #ghost king danny

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esthersupriya · 2 years

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The reason for Christmas

He came to this earth to die willing for our sins on the cross. That is right! He loved us that much! So amid the presents, cookie decorating, and Christmas parties remember that Jesus is the reason for the season!

#Jesus #christmas #joy #peace #price for our sins

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evilvillain123456789 · 1 year

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i can't stop fucking old people. it's seriously a problem. their hearts can't fucking take it. they know i'll kill them. but they never say no. i travel city to city with each conquest. i log onto tinder and meet a girl. three chances a year... one for easter dinner, one for thanksgiving, one christmas. she takes me to her house to meet the family. the grandmother and i lock eyes from across the table. grandfather has passed. shes here alone.. sad.. we make eye contact for a while until she excuses herself, and i follow her. sometimes the deed is done right there in the bedroom, sometimes i'm given the number to her jitterbug, to return to her later. she makes me go in raw no matter what i suggest. i break up with the girl shortly after i've achieve sexual contact with one or both grandparents. i've no family of my own. that's true, that's always the excuse. i got a reputation that follows me. that's why i'm always moving. the grandmother often catches a VD from our little quickie. her weakened immune system. she passes away a few weeks later. some time before her time. or maybe just in time. god forbid, she invites me over. i sit in her little rocking chair as she speaks to me. that was her husbands chair.. she eyes me. my presence awakens this within her. i make her feel young again. she leads me to her bedroom. i have no reason to restrain myself, nobody will find us. she comes, then she goes. i clean her up as she grunts from the remnants of her heart attack, and leave her tucked into bed. she lays there peaceful, like shes asleep. that's when i lock the doors on my way out, and head to the next city. the next city, where i'll lay low until the next holiday season. start chatting up some chicks while i'm at it.. god, and the grandfathers. unlike with the grandmothers, they dont need to have lost their love to want me. they always cheat. they always want to use me as a tool to cheat. they look at me in ways their wives havent seen in years, and their wives see this. but their wives remain subservient. they always let him do this. they pray for him, but none of them pray for me. they hate me. they hate me so much. they know what i'm doing but refuse to make it stop. i lead their husbands away and kill them. they know it serves him right. i leave them heartbroken. but they'll never say a word. they'll never say a word about how an ugly little gay boy stole their man and now he's paid the ultimate price. and so have they. they seethe until their death. sometimes i swoop in on them too. silence them. they want me to silence them. but usually its too risky. after all, there are simply some secrets, that one must take to ones grave no matter what. i have nothing to gain from doing this. what i do is completely legal. all are lucid. but i feel as if i'm moving through a dream. i feel the earth around me shift as though i were asleep. i can't settle down. i can't fucking stop it. i want to stop. i want to find love. i feel so guilty. how many women fell in love with me, only to lose me. lose one or both grandparents and i'm nowhere near to comfort her. by the time it comes to mourn, i'm already long gone..

But yes, i suppose you can apply this to your fucking little tomgreg or harry styles or whatever. Yeah dude. You fucked that old man.

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dwuerch-blog · 2 years

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Fill 'Er Up

Fill ‘Er Up

That says a lot with gas prices these days. Sam’s Club has a Saturday special going on during the month of June – 10% savings on gas. Yep! Count me in. With still a half tank, I made sure to fill up Saturday! We pay attention to the cost of a gallon of gas more than we pay attention to anything else. Of course, that may be because the price of gas is plastered in big numbers at every gas station…

View On WordPress

#attitude #blog #christian #complaining #faith #gallon of gas #gas prices #high octane fuel #inspiration #living in His presence #our God reigns #peace of God #practice gratitude #premium fuel #sam&039;s club

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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months

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The Horror and the Wild [Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader]

It's time for the wedding - and the wedding night. Emperor is going to make sure you will bear his offsprings by the end of the night. Tags and TW: Dub-con, aphrodisiacs, power imbalance, breeding kink, size difference, loss of virginity, age difference(Konig in his forties, Reader in her twenties), medieval/fantasy AU, Konig is a pervert AND an evil dictator AO3

You weren’t saved from the humiliation of a public wedding.

You weren’t saved the torture of picking the flowers as you were choosing the attire to your own funeral – and you weren’t saved your innocence by allowing yourself to ignore all the handmaidens and their horrible, disgusting picture books about penetration, pools of blood and hell that is saved between the legs of a man.

“My condolences, dear princess. For your parents. And congratulations on your wedding. Our deepest hopes go to your coronation, Empress.” “From the king of South, we send our sheerest condolences. And congratulations on the wedding.” “May your parents rest in peace. And glory to the Emperor.” “Grief surely suits you, Dear Empress. As well as the crown.”

You think you might puke right in your royal garments, looking at all of the royal visitors.

King Price of Southern Kingdom, with all of his knights – you do not know if you can find solace in the girl clinging to the hand of his masked knight, the stench of death filling you with calmness that you don’t know how to deal with. The girl is terrified, just like you – if you may, you’re probably the same age, that years of servitude grazing in the hands that are covered by the sheerest amounts of gloves.

The lady – you don’t know her name, and you doubt that any woman in this hall is even allowed to have one other than her husband’s – is looking at you with understanding. You think you might actually die.

— Lady Ryley?

She smiles, and before you can go to her – hold her hands, ask her to disappear with you, maybe run away somewhere, you don’t even know where – the masked knight already drags her away, a firm hand on her shoulder. You’re alone, the weight of the royal robe is pinning you to the floor.

You are dressed in black as the only form of rebellion – guests must assume you’re still mourning your parents, the grief in their eyes is mixed with congratulations on the Empire finally getting prospects of offspring – you hope you’d tore your womb from your body before König could lay his hands on you. Guests may assume that the wedding is a tab bit strange, maybe somewhat unusual for the emperor to marry someone of your status – tiny kingdom, no worthwhile resources, and almost zero prospects for trade. Maybe, you were the only treasure this kingdom ever had to sell so eagerly.

König holds your hands because you know that you would try to run the second he is letting you go. You know he knows this, too. Guests may assume that he is being protective of his young wife – assassins aren’t unheard of in these places, after all, you were the empress now. The much smarter guests knew what kind of looks you gave him – perhaps, you had the best options at killing the notorious emperor right after he robbed you of the last remains of your dignity.

You smile and wave like a damned pampered pigeon, pretty and useless, all dressed up in bows and black pearls, dark stones illuminating the depths of your despair – only the monster you had for a husband would even consider ordering a mourning dress this beautiful. You’re almost ashamed of wanting to paint it red – you almost feel bad while holding the butter knife and thinking about plunging it into your chest, ripping away all the delicate laces and ornaments that cut through your skin each time you breathe a bit too freely.

— You look divine in this dress, meine Liebe.

He smiles, you know he is – he didn’t forget about his damn hood even on his own wedding, but he holds you dearly, but he smiles with his eyes, an eerie sense of happiness that makes every guest shake in their seats. The Ruler of the Empire doesn’t smile. Not at his wife, who looks like she would rather kill herself, for sure – but he smiles as you say your wows, knowing full well you are not going to fulfill them, but he laughs when the priest stutters once you refused to say you do the first time – König has to squeeze your hands, reminding you of your place. Even your stubbornness has a limit, apparently.

His lips are dry and chastity.

König knows he can’t kiss you like he wants to – too many guests, too many pricks, thinking they have a look on his wife. If it weren’t for the admirers and desperate rulers of foreign lands, trying to force their songs and daughters to marry him out of a pathetic attempt at saving their countries, he wouldn’t even think about a public wedding. If it weren’t for the annoyance of constantly swatting the offers away, he would never allow the world to see you. Not how beautiful you look, not how pretty your eyes are, glistening with tears, not how much he just wanted to smother you with affection like there isn’t anyone around.

Hells, if he knew so many people would accept the short notice for an invitation, he would invade their kingdoms while they were away at his wedding.

König holds your face in his hands, the contrast between soft skin and his gloves is making you shiver – he pushes his hood up, even just for a little bit, and the only thing that is ever revealed to the audience is the scars on his chin and sudden dryness of his lips. He thought he overcame his childish anxiety when he was still a tiny bird stuck in his adolescence – but he looks at you, his pretty little princess, and his hands are shaking from the anticipation of a kiss.

The guests will assume you’re crying because you love him so, so much.

The Emperor knows better, kissing the tears from your lips like it was the sweetest treat around.

*** You thought you were smart.

You really did.

Such a slick motion, such an easy task – the girl coming with Knight Riley, the weak one, with trembling hands and face that spoke of innocence of lambs and with calloused hands of a fellow worker, took your hand as you were leaving. The veil of laughs and jokes about finally conceiving a worthy heir for the empire made you shiver from horror – and the girl swatted you to her side, a single sleight of hand putting…something in your palms.

Some sort of plant – dried, smelling of something sweet and edible, flowers that would feel crispy on your tongue. She smiles softly, her hands are gentle on yours – she whispers in your ear before your respective monsters can catch you and throw you in their layers again.

She said, it was mercy.

She said, it would make -it- feel quick and easy.

You hoped, it was a poison.

It had to be, you wouldn’t accept anything else – the desire to die and fulfill the destiny of a loyal servant, the whispers of the god of dignified death – you may not see the sweetness of the afterlife with your Princess, but killing oneself to save their bodies from being violated is a worthy fate for any. You pushed the plant in your mouth as swiftly as possible, chewing on the dried grass and crispy flowers, hoping the effect would be immediate.

You’re bathed and oiled like a pig for devour, short for the apple stuffed in your mouth – instead, you have forced a mouthful of wine, goblets after goblets. To ease the tension of the first night, the servants said, smiling understandably. You feel warm, you feel dizzy, you feel hellishly feverish, and it couldn’t be just from the alcohol – you close your eyes and hope that the plant took its way finally, releasing you from the shell of the mortal life. You’re dressed up in pretty garments, skimpy as something that the empress should never wear – you feel like a cheap whore when your skin is glossy with oils and decorated with flowers.

Just before you started chewing on them too, your husband finally arrived.

You hoped you’d be dead before ever seeing him naked again – but you’re forced to watch his muscles tense as the only thing saving his lack of dignity is the smallest ever piece of undergarments. It doesn’t help in hiding his arousal, the monstrosity between his legs. You knew you would have to die before he is ever putting anything in you – but you see the outline of his manhood, poking from the side of a simple cloth, and somehow, you feel hotter than before.

You blame it on the wine, you blame it on the poison you took. The warmness is spreading in your tummy to your lower areas, forcing its way to moisture your garments, a wet spot, embarrassingly big for an Empress, is slowly spreading between your oiled, scented legs. You’re nothing but a feast for him, a pretty little snack – you knew how much he liked to eat, after all. What great talent he had in forcing your legs apart and showing his head between them, that sinful tongue of his speaking of prayers and soft little blasphemies in the sweetness of your maidenhood.

— You’re burning, little princess.

You hoped it’s the poison working.

For a second, he placed his hand on your forehead and caressed it softly, accessing your temperature. For a second, the cold of his hands made you nuzzle into his palm like a cat that was fed nothing but the finest pieces of meat by the hand that was ready to skin it for its skin. For a second, you hoped that his embrace alone would be enough to kill you.

If you die, which you must do, you wish it would be with his hands holding you softly.

— A virgin fewer? I thought you’d know what we’re going to do by now, little prin…

— Don’t stop be from dying.

You let go of those words before you could claim your silence.

König’s hands are grasping you immediately, a finger lays in your mouth, making you gag – you open your lips from instinct, no matter how much you want to stop him from ever entering your mouth. He is weirdly smooth with you, the other hand going to grab your waist and press you on the bed – like you ever had a chance to stand against him and run away. Like he didn’t have a row of guards just outside the door.

— Dying? Scheisse, dumme What did you do?

He quickly grasped your tongue, the traces of the flower still lingered on your teeth, on the further corners of your mouth – you didn’t know if you had to spit it out or eat it whole, and you didn’t want to guess in the matters of death and loss of dignity. You gag on his fingers as he laughs – an unusual sound. First, the smiles and happiness in his voice, the rings and chains he put you in, and now laugh? Perhaps you died already, and this is your eternal damnation.

— Let go of me! You have no…

— Were you still so scared, Liebling?

— I wasn’t…what do you mean, Your Highness?

The title is good, the title puts some distance between you and him. Only imaginary – he is still as close as possible, hands on your body, wiping the traces of the flowers on the silk sheets and holding you in his embrace again, as tight as he possibly can. You feel ill, you feel hot, every time he puts his hands on you, you can feel your core throbbing, the poison making you dizzy and dumb.

You almost feel like begging him to touch you again – and again, and again. König, for one, can’t wait to watch.

— I wonder where you got it. Such a clever Katzen, ja? Eating aphrodisiacs before her wedding night, like I would just mount you like an animal without preparing my wife?

He laughs and laughs, hand in your hair, petting you gently like you truly were a cat. You’re dumbfounded, the fewer makes everything make less and less sense. You close your eyes, you open your eyes – you feel him on you. Looking, watching, observing, you want him to stop, and you want him to rip away those stupid garments and touch you, as he did in that dim hallway, to push his masterful, sinful tongue down your folds and treat you like a…

You whimper as you fell on the sheets, truly embracing the cat in-heat stance you were for the last few minutes. You roll on the sheets, smooth silk makes your core cool just a bit, the pressure only building with each time you try to hump the sheets, not caring anymore if you were behaving like an animal.

Perhaps, the Knight’s maiden really wanted to make everything easier for you – just in her own way.

— Wh…what have you done to me?

He is bracing his hands between your legs, lingering touches on the wetness of your garments, making you both shiver in anticipation. He is forcing his tongue on you, the immediate pressure making you meow from the sensation. You hate it, you hate it, you have to hate it because if you don’t, then what the hell are you even doing. It’s too much and too little, it does nothing to relief the warmth between your legs, only making you wetter with each stroke of his wide, warm tongue. — I haven’t done anything, little princess. You just want me.

— I would never want you.

— I can stop.

You snap your legs around his neck before he can withdraw his face.

König is laughing, the sheer adorableness of your expression making him want you even more. You look perfect, so lost in desire for him – gods, he just wanted to devour you, to strip you of all you worth and make you his just as much as he is yours. But simply pleasing you with his tongue won’t ever be enough for this night – he had waited for so long, too long, disgustingly long, he had to have you in every way possible. If he won’t consummate the marriage today, he might as well just die.

Other night, he will make you beg – plead for him to give you his cock, push the throbbing member in your trembling folds, snap the pleasure from your hands and force you to accept being his wife. The other night, he could wait and tease you for as long as possible. The other night…

He doesn’t have the patience for this night – he can’t even kiss you now, the mere feeling of your trembling lips would snap him beyond repair. It’s unfair to you, little princess, his desire is too much for someone like you to take – alas, he has to have you. Alas, he will have you, one way or the other, even if he’d have to push your pretty head into the pillows and force his manhood between your folds.

But you plead for him, the desire in your eyes, mixed with fear and anticipation, is enough for him to laugh again, his hand squeezing your chest. You look divine, absolutely – you would look even better when properly bred, tits full of milk, and belly swollen with his little soldiers. Emperor never thought of getting an offspring, always knew his fate was to fall into obscurity with the country he created, but you have wide hips, a soft belly, and warm hands – all the requirements of a mother. But you have the submissiveness of a pet and the wit of a wife.

But he can’t wait to push his seed into you – with a groan, before you could even lay your eyes on his cock, he is already forcing it in, ravaging all the resistance you once had.

The plant made you warm, aroused, and wet enough to be dripping when he first pushed his cockhead between your glistening folds. You cry, the feeling of being intruded, ravaged, bot entirely painful, but now very pleasant either, is nothing you were expecting of the first night with your husband. You were expecting screaming, pools of blood, half of your organs falling out from the newly made hole between your legs.

You just feel…intruded. The knot in your stomach is as tight as ever, even as König gives you a few minutes to adjust, the outline of his manhood throbbing in your tummy. You don’t even want to look at him, and he allows you to drift into a trance, the aphrodisiac you took doing all the job of preparation for him.

He is feeling you, raw and sensitive, your maidenhood is dripping down your thighs and his cock as he wasn’t exactly gentle – he will be the next night, and the night after, and after, he will promise to take care of you, little princess, but this night is about taking what belongs to him – and he will never allow you to keep your dignity when you can simply be his dumb, adorable wife.

— You’re so…heavens, princess, you’re strangling me.

He laughs, struggling to push in and out, his hand finding its place on your folds, playing and tugging with your swollen little clit. The bud is wet, no matter the pain you’re experiencing – the drug won’t allow you to stop wanting it, wanting him, König knows it’s not genuine, he has to work to make you this aroused, but for now, it will work. He doesn’t want you to feel pain – and he will make sure you’re able to take him.

— Too much, it’s…stop, wait, I am…

— You can take it, Schatzi.

— I can’t! — You will.

You whimper under him, you cry under him, he only continues to move, tearing your loyalty to your kingdom with each harsh thrust. You came to this room wanting to die, but now you feel your hands wrapping around his neck, your hips buckling to meet his, to bring the overcoming pleasure like König isn’t the one to tear you apart – you feel raw, you feel tainted, the pleasure in your folds is nothing what you ever had before.

You’re betraying yourself with each moan and each whimper – you find yourself begging for him, the tears of yours is not just from pain anymore. He kisses you, rough lips on your mouth, making sure you’re as prepared for him as he is, you want for him to stop, but you plead with him to continue.

— Stop already…I…

— I only came twice, little princess. And you – trice. Doesn’t feel fair, ja? — ‘s not, I can’t take it anymore…

— I will breed you, Schatzen. Until you’re swollen with my sons. — It w…won’t be royal children…

— Ach, my blood is enough to make a dog royal. — But…

— I will breed you, little princess. You can stop pretending you don’t want it.

You’re not even sure at what orgasm you are already – you feel like he came already, the wetness in your cunt should be evident of his already breeding you quite a few times, but the time is a blur when every time you cum, your vision blurs and your brain becomes foggier and foggier.

König knows you will look perfect, all thoughtless and swollen with his children – not now, maybe, with a few elixirs to enhance your ability to bear children, but he can’t wait till you’re done. You might not like it at first, princesses do tend to be just a bit dumb when it comes to their duties, but there is something in your eyes that is telling him you’re going to bring him sons just like a good girl you are. Just like he expects you to do, your pretty tummy all swollen, and your body is barely handling the passion of his lovemaking. Gods, he knew you would be worth it. Even if, to his knowledge, you’re not a princess at all.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig x you #konig x y/n #konig cod #male yandere #yandere male

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