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queenlucythevaliant · 3 months

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Tell Your Dad You Love Him

A retelling of "Meat Loves Salt"/"Cap O'Rushes" for the @inklings-challenge Four Loves event

An old king had three daughters. When his health began to fail, he summoned them, and they came.

Gordonia and Rowan were already waiting in the hallway when Coriander arrived. They were leaned up against the wall opposite the king’s office with an air of affected casualness. “I wonder what the old war horse wants today?” Rowan was saying. “More about next year’s political appointments, I shouldn’t wonder.”

“The older he gets, the more he micromanages,” Gordonia groused fondly. “A thousand dollars says this meeting could’ve been an email.”

They filed in single-file like they’d so often done as children: Gordonia first, then Rowan, and Coriander last of all. The king had placed three chairs in front of his desk all in a row. His daughters murmured their greetings, and one by one they sat down.

“I have divided everything I have in three,” the king said. “I am old now, and it’s time. Today, I will pass my kingdom on to you, my daughters.”

A short gasp came from Gordonia. None of them could have imagined that their father would give up running his kingdom while he still lived.

The king went on. “I know you will deal wisely with that which I leave in your care. But before we begin, I have one request.”

“Yes father?” said Rowan.

“Tell me how much you love me.”

An awkward silence fell. Although there was no shortage of love between the king and his daughters, theirs was not a family which spoke of such things. They were rich and blue-blooded: a soldier and the daughters of a soldier, a king and his three court-reared princesses. The royal family had always shown their affection through double meanings and hot cups of coffee.

Gordonia recovered herself first. She leaned forward over the desk and clasped her father’s hands in her own. “Father,” she said, “I love you more than I can say.” A pause. “I don’t think there’s ever been a family so happy in love as we have been. You’re a good dad.”

The old king smiled and patted her hand. “Thank you, Gordonia. We have been very happy, haven’t we? Here is your inheritance. Cherish it, as I cherish you.”

Rowan spoke next; the words came tumbling out. “Father! There’s not a thing in my life which you didn’t give me, and all the joy in the world beside. Come now, Gordonia, there’s no need to understate the matter. I love you more than—why, more than life itself!”

The king laughed, and rose to embrace his second daughter. “How you delight me, Rowan. All of this will be yours.”

Only Coriander remained. As her sisters had spoken, she’d wrung her hands in her lap, unsure of what to say. Did her father really mean for flattery to be the price of her inheritance? That just wasn’t like him. For all that he was a politician, he’d been a soldier first. He liked it when people told the truth.

When the king’s eyes came to rest on her, Coriander raised her own to meet them. “Do you really want to hear what you already know?”

“I do.”

She searched for a metaphor that could carry the weight of her love without unnecessary adornment. At last she found one, and nodded, satisfied. “Dad, you’re like—like salt in my food.”

“Like salt?”

“Well—yes.”

The king’s broad shoulders seemed to droop. For a moment, Coriander almost took back her words. Her father was the strongest man in the world, even now, at eighty. She’d watched him argue with foreign rulers and wage wars all her life. Nothing could hurt him. Could he really be upset?

But no. Coriander held her father’s gaze. She had spoken true. What harm could be in that?

“I don’t know why you’re even here, Cor,” her father said.

Now, Coriander shifted slightly in her seat, unnerved. “What? Father—”

“It would be best if—you should go,” said the old king.

“Father, you can’t really mean–”

“Leave us, Coriander.”

So she left the king’s court that very hour.

It had been a long time since she’d gone anywhere without a chauffeur to drive her, but Coriander’s thoughts were flying apart too fast for her to be afraid. She didn’t know where she would go, but she would make do, and maybe someday her father would puzzle out her metaphor and call her home to him. Coriander had to hope for that, at least. The loss of her inheritance didn’t feel real yet, but her father—how could he not know that she loved him? She’d said it every day.

She’d played in the hall outside that same office as a child. She’d told him her secrets and her fears and sent him pictures on random Tuesdays when they were in different cities just because. She had watched him triumph in conference rooms and on the battlefield and she’d wanted so badly to be like him.

If her father doubted her love, then maybe he’d never noticed any of it. Maybe the love had been an unnoticed phantasm, a shadow, a song sung to a deaf man. Maybe all that love had been nothing at all.

A storm was on the horizon, and it reached her just as she made it onto the highway. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled. Rain poured down and flooded the road. Before long, Coriander was hydroplaning. Frantically, she tried to remember what you were supposed to do when that happened. Pump the brakes? She tried. No use. Wasn’t there something different you did if the car had antilock brakes? Or was that for snow? What else, what else–

With a sickening crunch, her car hit the guardrail. No matter. Coriander’s thoughts were all frenzied and distant. She climbed out of the car and just started walking.

Coriander wandered beneath an angry sky on the great white plains of her father’s kingdom. The rain beat down hard, and within seconds she was soaked to the skin. The storm buffeted her long hair around her head. It tangled together into long, matted cords that hung limp down her back. Mud soiled her fine dress and splattered onto her face and hands. There was water in her lungs and it hurt to breathe. Oh, let me die here, Coriander thought. There’s nothing left for me, nothing at all. She kept walking.

When she opened her eyes, Coriander found herself in a dank gray loft. She was lying on a strange feather mattress.

She remained there a while, looking up at the rafters and wondering where she could be. She thought and felt, as it seemed, through a heavy and impenetrable mist; she was aware only of hunger and weakness and a dreadful chill (though she was all wrapped in blankets). She knew that a long time must have passed since she was fully aware, though she had a confused memory of wandering beside the highway in a thunderstorm, slowly going mad because—because— oh, there’d been something terrible in her dreams. Her father, shoulders drooping at his desk, and her sisters happily come into their inheritance, and she cast into exile—

She shuddered and sat up dizzily. “Oh, mercy,” she murmured. She hadn’t been dreaming.

She stumbled out of the loft down a narrow flight of stairs and came into a strange little room with a single window and a few shabby chairs. Still clinging to the rail, she heard a ruckus from nearby and then footsteps. A plump woman came running to her from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron and softly clucking at the state of her guest’s matted, tangled hair.

“Dear, dear,” said the woman. “Here’s my hand, if you’re still unsteady. That’s good, good. Don’t be afraid, child. I’m Katherine, and my husband is Folke. He found you collapsed by the goose-pond night before last. I’m she who dressed you—your fine gown was ruined, I’m afraid. Would you like some breakfast? There’s coffee on the counter, and we’ll have porridge in a minute if you’re patient.”

“Thank you,” Coriander rasped.

“Will you tell me your name, my dear?”

“I have no name. There’s nothing to tell.”

Katherine clicked her tongue. “That’s alright, no need to worry. Folke and I’ve been calling you Rush on account of your poor hair. I don’t know if you’ve seen yourself, but it looks a lot like river rushes. No, don’t get up. Here’s your breakfast, dear.”

There was indeed porridge, as Katherine had promised, served with cream and berries from the garden. Coriander ate hungrily and tasted very little. Then, when she was finished, the goodwife ushered her over to a sofa by the window and put a pillow beneath her head. Coriander thanked her, and promptly fell asleep.

She woke again around noon, with the pounding in her head much subsided. She woke feeling herself again, to visions of her father inches away and the sound of his voice cracking across her name.

Katherine was outside in the garden; Coriander could see her through the clouded window above her. She rose and, upon finding herself still in a borrowed nightgown, wrapped herself in a blanket to venture outside.

“Feeling better?” Katherine was kneeling in a patch of lavender, but she half rose when she heard the cottage door open.

“Much. Thank you, ma’am.

“No thanks necessary. Folke and I are ministers, of a kind. We keep this cottage for lost and wandering souls. You’re free to remain here with us for as long as you need.”

“Oh,” was all Coriander could think to say.

“You’ve been through a tempest, haven’t you? Are you well enough to tell me where you came from?”

Coriander shifted uncomfortably. “I’m from nowhere,” she said. “I have nothing.”

“You don’t owe me your story, child. I should like to hear it, but it will keep till you’re ready. Now, why don’t you put on some proper clothes and come help me with this weeding.”

Coriander remained at the cottage with Katherine and her husband Folke for a week, then a fortnight. She slept in the loft and rose with the sun to help Folke herd the geese to the pond. After, Coriander would return and see what needed doing around the cottage. She liked helping Katherine in the garden.

The grass turned gold and the geese’s thick winter down began to come in. Coriander’s river-rush hair proved itself unsalvageable. She spent hours trying to untangle it, first with a hairbrush, then with a fine-tooth comb and a bottle of conditioner, and eventually even with honey and olive oil (a home remedy that Folke said his mother used to use). So, at last, Coriander surrendered to the inevitable and gave Katherine permission to cut it off. One night, by the yellow light of the bare bulb that hung over the kitchen table, Katherine draped a towel over Coriander’s shoulders and tufts of gold went falling to the floor all round her.

“I’m here because I failed at love,” she managed to tell the couple at last, when her sorrows began to feel more distant. “I loved my father, and he knew it not.”

Folke and Katherine still called her Rush. She didn’t correct them. Coriander was the name her parents gave her. It was the name her father had called her when she was six and racing down the stairs to meet him when he came home from Europe, and at ten when she showed him the new song she’d learned to play on the harp. She’d been Cor when she brought her first boyfriend home and Cori the first time she shadowed him at court. Coriander, Coriander, when she came home from college the first time and he’d hugged her with bruising strength. Her strong, powerful father.

As she seasoned a pot of soup for supper, she wondered if he understood yet what she’d meant when she called him salt in her food.

Coriander had been living with Katherine and Folke for two years, and it was a morning just like any other. She was in the kitchen brewing a pot of coffee when Folke tossed the newspaper on the table and started rummaging in the fridge for his orange juice. “Looks like the old king’s sick again,” he commented casually. Coriander froze.

She raced to the table and seized hold of the paper. There, above the fold, big black letters said, KING ADMITTED TO HOSPITAL FOR EMERGENCY TREATMENT. There was a picture of her father, looking older than she’d ever seen him. Her knees went wobbly and then suddenly the room was sideways.

Strong arms caught her and hauled her upright. “What’s wrong, Rush?”

“What if he dies,” she choked out. “What if he dies and I never got to tell him?”

She looked up into Folke’s puzzled face, and then the whole sorry story came tumbling out.

When she was through, Katherine (who had come downstairs sometime between salt and the storm) took hold of her hand and kissed it. “Bless you, dear,” she said. “I never would have guessed. Maybe it’s best that you’ve both had some time to think things over.”

Katherine shook her head. “But don’t you think…?”

“Yes?”

“Well, don’t you think he should have known that I loved him? I shouldn’t have needed to say it. He’s my father. He’s the king.”

Katherine replied briskly, as though the answer should have been obvious. “He’s only human, child, for all that he might wear a crown; he’s not omniscient. Why didn’t you tell your father what he wanted to hear?”

“I didn’t want to flatter him,” said Coriander. “That was all. I wanted to be right in what I said.”

The goodwife clucked softly. “Oh dear. Don’t you know that sometimes, it’s more important to be kind than to be right?”

In her leave-taking, Coriander tried to tell Katherine and Folke how grateful she was to them, but they wouldn’t let her. They bought her a bus ticket and sent her on her way towards King’s City with plenty of provisions. Two days later, Coriander stood on the back steps of one of the palace outbuildings with her little carpetbag clutched in her hands.

Stuffing down the fear of being recognized, Coriander squared her shoulders and hoped they looked as strong as her father’s. She rapped on the door, and presently a maid came and opened it. The maid glanced Coriander up and down, but after a moment it was clear that her disguise held. With all her long hair shorn off, she must have looked like any other girl come in off the street.

“I’m here about a job,” said Coriander. “My name’s Rush.”

The king's chambers were half-lit when Coriander brought him his supper, dressed in her servants’ apparel. He grunted when she knocked and gestured with a cane towards his bedside table. His hair was snow-white and he was sitting in bed with his work spread across a lap-desk. His motions were very slow.

Coriander wanted to cry, seeing her father like that. Yet somehow, she managed to school her face. Like he would, she kept telling herself. Stoically, she put down the supper tray, then stepped back out into the hallway.

It was several minutes more before the king was ready to eat. Coriander heard papers being shuffled, probably filed in those same manilla folders her father had always used. In the hall, Coriander felt the seconds lengthen. She steeled herself for the moment she knew was coming, when the king would call out in irritation, “Girl! What's the matter with my food? Why hasn’t it got any taste?”

When that moment came, all would be made right. Coriander would go into the room and taste his food. “Why,” she would say, with a look of complete innocence, “It seems the kitchen forgot to salt it!” She imagined how her father’s face would change when he finally understood. My daughter always loved me, he would say.

Soon, soon. It would happen soon. Any second now.

The moment never came. Instead, the floor creaked, followed by the rough sound of a cane striking the floor. The door opened, and then the king was there, his mighty shoulders shaking. “Coriander,” he whispered.

“Dad. You know me?”

“Of course.”

“Then you understand now?”

The king’s wrinkled brow knit. “Understand about the salt? Of course, I do. It wasn't such a clever riddle. There was surely no need to ruin my supper with a demonstration.”

Coriander gaped at him. She'd expected questions, explanations, maybe apologies for sending her away. She'd never imagined this.

She wanted very badly to seize her father and demand answers, but then she looked, really looked, at the way he was leaning on his cane. The king was barely upright; his white head was bent low. Her questions would hold until she'd helped her father back into his room.

“If you knew what I meant–by saying you were like salt in my food– then why did you tell me to go?” she asked once they were situated back in the royal quarters.

Idly, the king picked at his unseasoned food. “I shouldn’t have done that. Forgive me, Coriander. My anger and hurt got the better of me, and it has brought me much grief. I never expected you to stay away for so long.”

Coriander nodded slowly. Her father's words had always carried such fierce authority. She'd never thought to question if he really meant what he’d said to her.

“As for the salt,” continued the king, "Is it so wrong that an old man should want to hear his daughters say ‘I love you' before he dies?”

Coriander rolled the words around in her head, trying to make sense of them. Then, with a sudden mewling sound from her throat, she managed to say, “That's really all you wanted?”

“That's all. I am old, Cor, and we've spoken too little of love in our house.” He took another bite of his unsalted supper. His hand shook. “That was my failing, I suppose. Perhaps if I’d said it, you girls would have thought to say it back.”

“But father!” gasped Coriander, “That’s not right. We've always known we loved one another! We've shown it a thousand ways. Why, I've spent the last year cataloging them in my head, and I've still not even scratched the surface!”

The king sighed. “Perhaps you will understand when your time comes. I knew, and yet I didn't. What can you really call a thing you’ve never named? How do you know it exists? Perhaps all the love I thought I knew was only a figment.”

“But that’s what I’ve been afraid of all this time,” Coriander bit back. “How could you doubt? If it was real at all– how could you doubt?”

The king’s weathered face grew still. His eyes fell shut and he squeezed them. “Death is close to me, child. A small measure of reassurance is not so very much to ask.”

Coriander slept in her old rooms that night. None of it had changed. When she woke the next morning, for a moment she remembered nothing of the last two years.

She breakfasted in the garden with her father, who came down the steps in a chair-lift. “Coriander,” he murmured. “I half-thought I dreamed you last night.”

“I’m here, Dad,” she replied. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Slowly, the king reached out with one withered hand and caressed Coriander's cheek. Then, his fingers drifted up to what remained of her hair. He ruffled it, then gently tugged on a tuft the way he'd used to playfully tug her long braid when she was a girl.

“I love you,” he said.

“That was always an I love you, wasn’t it?” replied Coriander. “My hair.”

The king nodded. “Yes, I think it was.”

So Coriander reached out and gently tugged the white hairs of his beard. “You too,” she whispered.

“Why salt?” The king was sitting by the fire in his rooms wrapped in two blankets. Coriander was with him, enduring the sweltering heat of the room without complaint.

She frowned. “You like honesty. We have that in common. I was trying to be honest–accurate–to avoid false flattery.”

The king tugged at the outer blanket, saying nothing. His lips thinned and his eyes dropped to his lap. Coriander wished they wouldn’t. She wished they would hold to hers, steely and ready for combat as they always used to be.

“Would it really have been false?” the king said at last. “Was there no other honest way to say it? Only salt?”

Coriander wanted to deny it, to give speech to the depth and breadth of her love, but once again words failed her. “It was my fault,” she said. “I didn’t know how to heave my heart into my throat.” She still didn’t, for all she wanted to.

When the doctor left, the king was almost too tired to talk. His words came slowly, slurred at the edges and disconnected, like drops of water from a leaky faucet.

Still, Coriander could tell that he had something to say. She waited patiently as his lips and tongue struggled to form the words. “Love you… so… much… You… and… your sisters… Don’t… worry… if you… can’t…say…how…much. I… know.”

It was all effort. The king sat back when he was finished. Something was still spasming in his throat, and Coriander wanted to cry.

“I’m glad you know,” she said. “I’m glad. But I still want to tell you.”

Love was effort. If her father wanted words, she would give him words. True words. Kind words. She would try…

“I love you like salt in my food. You're desperately important to me, and you've always been there, and I don't know what I'll do without you. I don’t want to lose you. And I love you like the soil in a garden. Like rain in the spring. Like a hero. You have the strongest shoulders of anyone I know, and all I ever wanted was to be like you…”

A warm smile spread across the old king’s face. His eyes drifted shut.

#inklingschallenge #theme: storge #story: complete #inklings challenge #leah stories #OKAY. SO #i spend so much time thinking about king lear. i think i've said before that it's my favorite shakespeare play. it is not close #and one of the hills i will die on is that cordelia was not in the right when she refused to flatter her dad #like. obviously he's definitely not in the right either. the love test was a screwed up way to make sure his kids loved him #he shouldn't have tied their inheritances into it. he DEFINITELY shouldn't have kicked cordelia out when she refused to play #but like. Cordelia. there is no good reason not to tell your elderly dad how much you love him #and okay obviously lear is my starting point but the same applies to the meat loves salt princess #your dad wants you to tell him you love him. there is no good reason to turn it into a riddle. you had other options #and honestly it kinda bothers me when people read cordelia/the princess as though she's perfectly virtuous #she's very human and definitely beats out the cruel sisters but she's definitely not aspirational. she's not to be emulated #at the end of the day both the fairytale and the play are about failures in storge #at happens when it's there and you can't tell. when it's not and you think it is. when you think you know someone's heart and you just don'#hey! that's a thing that happens all the time between parents and children. especially loving past each other and speaking different langua #so the challenge i set myself with this story was: can i retell the fairytale in such a way that the princess is unambiguously in the wrong #and in service of that the king has to get softened so his errors don't overshadow hers #anyway. thank you for coming to my TED talk #i've been thinking about this story since the challenge was announced but i wrote the whole thing last night after the super bowl #got it in under the wire! yay!#also! the whole 'modern setting that conflicts with the fairytale language' is supposed to be in the style of modern shakespeare adaptation #no idea if it worked but i had a lot of fun with it #pontifications and creations

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queer-lovebot · 5 months

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Put Kevin in a room with a man and they all come out with complicated sexual feelings for him. Nobody knows how he does it, but 9/10 it’s foolproof. And not even JUST on the Exy team, but in other teams, his classes, some random guy he fought with in the lunch line last week. He has some kind of assholish heart throb effect on men. It’s a genuine concern among the student body. There are bets all around campus. Everyone’s tallying up whether the urge to fight or fuck him is stronger and the polls are always neck and neck.

People start shooting their shot with him to At Least make the tension go away and Kevin laughs in their faces each and every time. The mockery somehow makes things worse. People start showing up at his dorm and have to be escorted off the premises by any number of Foxes depending on how insistent they are. It irritates Neil but drives Andrew absolutely insane.

#aftg #all for the game #kevin day #andrew minyard #neil josten #Kandreil #heart throb Kevin my beloved #kevin isn’t brave enough to sleep with all these men at his feet #he’s too virtuous #that doesn’t stop the Foxes from starting a “No Fucking Kevin’ defense squad

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goldensunset · 2 months

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https://youtu.be/wXUvkBt2lSo?si=b58cnb04eWqgzQ9H here's the volo event!

i am like… really,,,,,,, i like. i needed that volo and n scene to be longer. i think n is smart enough to figure things out. the others didn’t suspect a thing other than thinking he was a little odd but like n looked like he wanted to say something more about volo’s togepi. what did she actually say. idk it is just very much interesting that like you said n never lies and he’s always really blunt and awkward but i mean like. idk. it would make sense that togepi would really love volo bc he does evolve her eventually and it would be an odd thing for n to lie about unless he didn’t want to embarrass volo but maybe like she not only said that but indicated that there’s something lowkey insane about volo lol

also the thing about him saying aaaaummmm idk if i can talk to deity pokémon or not teehee. there wasn’t like a beat or a facial expression that would indicate he was panicking and lying on the spot but it could’ve been that he clocked that something was up with that guy thanks to what togepi said and he had already made up his mind to not let too much slip. which would be an impressive poker face to keep knowing that guy cuz he’s blunt and honest by nature. but anyway one thing is for sure like you said the answer to that question should have been a definitive yes so why would he say he didn’t know 🤔

#love that he just casually busts out his duo of legendaries #like. Both of them???#that’s either just pokemas going crazy or that happens at the end of b2w2 i wouldn’t know yet #INTENSE main character energy. n is so virtuous of heart that these two legendary dragons who can see into souls think of him as a buddy #i think volo would be soooo jealous of him for that if it had clicked #but it also seems like volo didn’t quite get how important those two were #like i’m pretty sure the game canon has them called deities of a sort too #asks #claitea #pokémon #legends arceus #bw #dude i would LOVE for volo to try using n as part of his villainous plot #forced translator

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adiodont · 9 months

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every night it’s a virtuous cycle

#adioart #original art #radiation #radioactivity #tw alchoholism #i mean i guess now it is #living room #real world drawing #drawing from life #??#idfk #jack stauber #inspired #opal #jack stauber’s opal #opal jack stauber #virtuous cycle #art #okay this is close to my heart

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maretriarch · 3 months

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id rather be called an ugly pigdog for one thousand years than be the like obviously less attractive one in a tiktok video of two girls that all the comments are hyping up. I think that shit is 10000% more malicious and cruel and calculating and Peak Meangirl than any like 'lol kys uggo" comment

#because it lets the commentor be like WHAT im being NICE!!! if anyone calls them out on how backhanded they are #ultimately someone whos straight up mean is preferable AND a better person than someone pretending to be virtuous but has the same ugly #heart #its exactly how u get irl bullied also by girls its rarely outright cruelty but instead like 4d mindchest that your tubby little autistic #kid mind cant understand or play the game back ut knows enough to be deeply wounded by it

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aceparagoned · 10 months

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In reference to this post I made about a couple of weeks ago, I'd like to go further into depth of how Hikaru's Crux was studied. In this headcanon, please be mindful of the following content warnings: child abuse, torture in a medical setting, and the ethics surrounding human experimentation in the name of "science."

When Hikaru was born and her Crux was discovered, scientists were intrigued on how this particular human could have developed another organ in the womb when her own mother, Katsumi, didn't have one. During Katsumi's entire pregnancy, the additional organ was discovered during routine ultrasounds, but there were discussions into the ethics of testing on an unborn fetus that could lead to Katsumi possibly miscarrying. Not just that, but Tamotsu, Hikaru's father, objected to the point of practically almost getting arrested for threatening to hurt the scientists that wanted to experiment on his wife and unborn daughter.

So, they held off until Hikaru was born so as to carry out their experiments when the Crux was fully developed.

This wasn't met without a great deal of resistance from not just Katsumi, but Hikaru's father, Tamotsu. The both of them vehemently argued to not test their daughter at all, thinking that she deserved so much more than being nothing more than something to gawk at because of being born with something else that no one else, at the time, possessed. For at least five years, Hikaru was able to grow up in a happy family until she was voluntarily given up to participate in the PIPE's training program in an attempt to turn the tides of war. They only gave her up on the promise that no experiments would be carried out on her because of her Crux.

The PIPE, desperate to continue living instead of losing the war against the Gnocem, promised they did. However, promises can be broken and it's one of the PIPE's horrible secrets that they've kept under lock and key this entire time.

See, after Hikaru had been given up by her parents, things were okay for a time. She was properly cared for, treated with respect, and told that things were going to be okay. That was, until, the same scientists who were intrigued when she was still in her mother's womb arrived and brokered a deal with the PIPE: they can test on her all they wanted if it'd produced the results they were looking for and that was to be humanity's weapon in the fight against the Gnocem. The deal was agreed upon and this is where things had taken a turn for the worst for Hikaru, who still was a child at this point.

At first, the experimentation wasn't that bad. Just a few shots and blood tests, really. But when that didn't reveal anything regarding the capabilities of Hikaru's Crux, they had to get "creative" with their testing and by being "creative", they resorted to procedures where sights like these [CW: needles in image] were unfortunately common practice with Hikaru strapped to a cold, metal surgical table and pleading for them to stop hurting her and that she was sorry for whatever she did to deserve this punishment.

Sadly, her pleas fell on deaf ears because it went so much further than just injecting her with multiple drugs. They wanted to see how she'd be able to heal and how much pain she could withstand. So, they went through with not just stabbing and lacerating her, but full on maiming by shooting her through her hands and feet. Again, her cries for mercy went ignored. However, these extreme methods of testing her endurance and pain tolerance finally paid off during her training regimen that she was still expected to go through. They ultimately made her stronger, and in their eyes fortunately able to withstand much more in terms of increased training.

Yet, no one thought about how she was still just a child. During these experiments and training, they slowly whittled away the bright and happy girl that started on this because she was promised that she was gonna be a hero and save the day! How could a child resist that? The PIPE and the scientists kept on saying that this was all in the name of making her a hero, like they promised she'd be.

Was being a hero worth all this pain and misery, though? That was one of Hikaru's many thoughts while she was in her room, quietly sobbing into her pillow at night until she finally was able to sleep, having passed out from the pain and discomfort she was in. Hikaru also learned that no matter how many times she cried or apologized, they'd still carry out the experiments on her, so eventually she'd just lie there and take it, trying to not make a single noise for fear that it'd only ramp up the experiments' intensity on her.

And the way that she was rewarded for this? They simply gave her treats, which were one of her only comforts. She couldn't contact her parents to tell them what was going on and the reports that they received told them that Hikaru was being well taken care of and was happy. Nothing was wrong in their eyes, even as they kept on forgetting the most important aspect of this whole matter: Hikaru was still a child. Yet, if it produced results such as giving them little victories here and there on the war, so be it — they would continue this extreme training regimen and keep on lying to her parents that she was being treated the way that they had promised. To this day, they still don't know what sort of hell their own daughter has been through and Hikaru doesn't want to upset them by telling them the truth, either, because of how these experiments gave them the stability that they have today.

As Hikaru grew up and became more powerful (along with being broken down and molded back into what the PIPE wanted of her), the experiments eventually ceased altogether, but this gave her a lasting fear of anything medical because of the hell she was put through. As previously mentioned, Hikaru is very critical of others tending to her injuries that she sustains in fights since she'd rather be the one to patch herself up because she doesn't trust anyone else to do it. Those in the medbay only admonish her for getting hurt for the umpteenth time and don't have any sympathy for her, no matter how grievous the injury really is. So, she'll often be by herself, dressing her own wounds while trying to stifle her sounds of discomfort however possible. This behavior of hers is still prevalent to this day because of how deep seated her own fear of anything medical is concerned — all because the PIPE saw her as nothing more than a weapon instead of a human being.

As far as anyone's concerned, the PIPE is heralded as this pillar of strength and hope, but no one publicly knows just what it took to get there. It's still classified information that only those who are higher up the food chain are privy to and have sworn to never reveal to the public the atrocities they committed to attain the semblance of peace that they have today. Anyone who tries to speak up about the human rights abuses they committed is silenced, never to be seen nor heard from again.

To Watanabe and others, the PIPE is nothing more than a shining beacon of peace and prosperity in the world and nothing shall ever taint that pristine image that they've cultivated for themselves all these years.

#☆ HEADCANONS → these are layers to you; to your heart. let others see who you are within; let your walls down for now.#☆ META → classified information on the world and the force that declared war on the Earth.#child abuse cw #human experimentation cw #human rights abuse cw #torture cw #medical cw #( ASK TO TAG. )#*ooc: please let me know if I missed anything to tag here! I always value your comfort first and foremost #the PIPE isn't as virtuous as they try to appear as and they have PLENTY of skeletons hidden in the closet that they don't want others to #know about #and Hikaru herself is too broken by what they did to her to speak out against them — especially when she knows that people can enjoy life #now at the cost of her own childhood being robbed from her

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thedeadthree · 2 years

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ADDA DE TRASTAMARA (pathfinder: kingmaker)

i wanted to introduce the new girlie occupying the headspace so i returned to these two picrews!

TAGGING: these have made the rounds but if u would like to make more or if you haven’t done this yet please feel free to tag me! i always love seeing peoples ocs 💫

#oc: adda de trastamara #being sick means u make more clowns! ✨🤡💛🥴#she’s an angel blooded aasimar and empyreal sorceress and like.. im obsessed with her 💛🥹#the astral queen is her title i think? it fits! 💛💫#i uh.. have to re do the blood and wine dlc bc i messed up and the save was already saved over sksnjxjx ✨🥴#BUT AT THE SAME TIME maybe this playthrough was just an au? bc i know im gonna want to replay ITS MY FAV DLC FOR A REASONN #the main quest reigned (and still does) reign king of my heart but blood and wine oh my god.. IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME #ill go into a lore rant about nyctemine and how she reacts in that au bc.. it’s not pretty knowing dettlaff is gone #and like she couldn’t save him ✨🤧#BUT BACK TO ADDA at first i had like maegor in mind but im maybe thinking tristian? ill know for sure when i meet them?#(or i can also just watch videos of their romances but..! yea!)#gonna SHOOT for an ending where her kingdom thrives and so none of her heirs have to make up for things for the lore sake 💛 we shall see!#her fc was originally cae’s a*nya t*aylor *j*oy but i realized her and the aesthetic of cae fit adda better!#and i think in a*6 im giving vexx/damon to lunafreya?#i realized that cae as a character with ch5 isn’t really a viable character? in possibility she doesn’t become queen and her sister does?#but luna definitely is! in either scenario! so i think she’s the better route!#a lot of caes character is being transferred over to adda! the virtuous appearance hiding someone more ambitious underneath gold aesthetics #leg.ocs #t: picrews

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keow · 1 year

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Not to be blunt but men make me believe in true evil

#imagine thinking threatening and berating your heavily pregnant wife after she says she doesn’t want to touch toxic dog medicine is OKAY #listen. my relationship has its ups and downs but I am so grateful that God blessed me with a man who actually loves and cares for me #and has a truly noble heart #because men who aren’t noble and virtuous are truly terrifying to me

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beeapocalypse · 2 years

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those posts that are like “i love you [thing] i love you [thing] etc etc” and follow a connecting theme w the items are a little cheesy soemtimes but that is the best way to express mine emotuon right now. i love you collector i love you shambler i love you thing from the stars i love you fanatic i love you crocodilian

^ look at these animals. absolutely incredible design

#body horror tw #i NEED to sprint into the first final dungeon expedition this instant i need to see the shuffling horror. it has been years since i fought--#--it and i want 2 see if there is anything said abt it being a shambler which has the Meat of the ancestral home growing upon--#--it like an infection. like a rogue animal of the void which has been captured and twisted up by the hearts worshippers #i just love love the wandering bosses so much like they are all such a perfect marriage of character design and gameplay. mwah mwah <3 #second image of a shambler tentacle. it spawns two of those upon encountering it and throughout the fight and they have a single--#--move called 'clapperclaw' (will admit that i usually just call them clapperclaws rather than shambler tentacles lol) that gives it huge--#--buffs which stack up w each successful hit so they turn into a very godawful problem if u do not deal w them right away. the real menaces-#--of the shambler fight #OHH i mentioned the shuffling horror now i need to talk abt ingame nesdin again. brought him along to my first real attempt at the first--#--final dunegon expedition years ago and ended up having 2 retreat during the boss fight bc my arbalest got killed real early into it and--#--my vestal died of a heart attack (due to a crit? i think) so the only guys i had left were nesdin (was virtuous i think?) and--#--mortemer the leper and it was mortemer who died on the expedition retreat. it was very dramatic and also the moment that solidified--#--nesdin as a real Character in my head. hed been a very solid guy to take on expeditions beforehand but i started spinning him around--#--in my head after that lol #^ i remember very clearly going oh FUCK and retreating the instant nesdin hit deaths door after the vestals death. maybe mortemer was--#--virtuous as well ? i remember having this incredibly impossible belief that they could tough it out together bc nesdin had the virtue--#--that had him occasionally heal himself and mortemer had his own self heal but i think the first deaths door check on him had me--#--freak out and retreat. sat at my desk w my eyes closed for like a minute b4 abandoning the expedition all together begging 4--#--nesdin to be the one to survive lol

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ambrosiagourmet · 4 months

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I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:

So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.

In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.

At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.

And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.

Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.

If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.

We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:

So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.

Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."

So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.

However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.

Isn't that the same thing?

No, no it very much is not.

Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:

Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.

But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.

If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.

Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.

Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.

We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.

And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.

So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.

It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.

And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:

Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.

And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.

We see her choose to come back to life.

And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:

Do you want to eat more?

There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.

When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.

But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.

And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.

It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #falin touden #dunmeshi analysis #I love it when dungeon meshi says. the trauma was real and it changed you #and the way you are because of it isn’t anything to be ashamed of #but you have to keep living. you have to chose to keep living.#and you can #dungeon meshi spoilers

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yuanology · 9 months

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m!reader fingering afab!geto while being 100% aware gojo's watching through the crack of the door so he decides to show gojo how sensitive his friend is and geto ends up squirting?? (lowkey embarrassed i wrote this, but yknow ignore it if you want😅)

what the Fuck .

gojo satoru was not a virtuous man. far from it, in fact. as a self-made god, satoru existed on a plane far above morality and whatever other human concept was created to define right and wrong. within infinity and the insurmountable power residing in it, there was only the man who wielded it and the humanity confining it.

even so, satoru still knew deep within his heart—the trembling, still beating thing residing underneath the constricts of his ribs—that he should not be doing this; that he should not be staying.

but satoru was not a virtuous man, and so he stayed.

because there, past the thin crack of the door, was his best friend—the same one he had known from childhood, the same one who had walked with him through the ins and outs of darkness—with his clothes stripped clean, thrown messily around the room, both of his feet planted flat on the bed, and his back arching off the mattress in a pleasured arch. between his legs, slick and heavy with evidence of his own debauchery, stood you—fully dressed, only the first two buttons of your collar open.

satoru knew of you. it was impossible not to. you were older than the both of them. when they were freshly entering their first year, you'd already matured where you existed in your third one. satoru himself had barely spared you a glance but in retrospect, he did remember suguru mentioning once or twice that he was training with you on the side.

fuck, satoru thought, dazed. if he had known this was what 'training' involved, he would have listened a bit better on what suguru had to say about you.

because you were holding his thighs apart, well-practiced fingers relentlessly pushing past suguru's slick folds, producing the loudest squelching noises. satoru couldn't see very well from this angle, but he could hear the sounds his best friend was making; fucked up and high-pitched, whiney in a way satoru had never heard him speak before.

suguru cried out your name, breathless and panting. "please," he was begging you, sounding close to tears. "please, no more."

you leaned in, mouth brushing over suguru's chest as you whispered your response. satoru couldn't hear you, even as his ears strained to catch a wisp of your words. but whatever it was, it must not be good because suguru is letting out a loud whine, one the turned into the strangled beginnings of a scream when satoru noticed that you had begun to pick up pace.

oh my god.

just as satoru took the first hesitant half step backwards, swaying in place, he hears your drawled out voice—cutting, brave, unyielding.

"now, where do you think you're going, satoru?"

satoru stiffened, and he realised that he wasn't the only one. suguru did, too—his body locking up as a new flush crawled across his skin. satoru had half the mind to apologise to his best friend in his head, a chant of i'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msuchashittyfriend looping in his head as if it could forgive him for not only being a pervert, but also for intruding on his best friend's secret.

satoru cleared his throat. he wanted to make an excuse, to apologise, but all that could tumble out of his throat was a hoarse, "um."

suguru let out a high whine at the sound of satoru's voice, as if he was spurred on by his audience. his back arched, his mouth parting as a deep sound escaped him. satoru watched, mesmerised, as the muscle on suguru's body rippled at the motion, your hands never once faltering in its ministrations.

"come here for a minute, satoru." your voice was calm, collected and almost clinical. as if you didn't practically have your entire fist buried in between suguru's slick folds, your thumb nudging at where satoru guessed must be suguru's clit if suguru's high pitched whimpers were anything to go by. "i need your opinion on something."

satoru swallowed thickly as he was drawn into the room, his motions dumb as if he was a mere puppet on your string. as he moved closer, he realised that there was more to the scene that he couldn't earlier see from his post by the door.

suguru's cunt was fucking drooling, slick dripping all over the place as his hips canted in the air as if to escape and to move closer to the pleasure. his hole would no doubt he gaping if you pulled your hand out, hungry for more. your thumb covered his clit wholly, rubbing at it mercilessly.

satoru felt himself twitching in his pants, throat working around the words stuck in his lungs.

"what do you need?" satoru asked, his voice wrecked. he would be embarrassed by it if it wasn't promptly drowned out by the sound of suguru's choked out noises.

without thinking, satoru moved a hand to rest on suguru's thigh, at the sight of his best friend in distress. he didn't realise what a great mistake it was until suguru did a full body shudder, a ragged gasp leaving him. satoru couldn't fucking breathe.

clearly, you didn't share the same sentiment because you were speaking again. "suguru wants me to stop, but i personally think he can come one more time," you said casually, as if this was a common conversation to have with just about anyone.

suguru let out a weak whimper, pathetic and desperate in a way satoru never knew him to be, at the sound of your words. you must have been trying to convince him about this for a while then.

stiffly, satoru nodded, not quite knowing how to react. "okay," he said dumbly.

he wasn't looking at you, too entranced by the sight of suguru with his legs spread wide open and his messy cunt being on full display, but he could hear the smile in your voice when you said, "well, what do you think? can he come one more time?"

satoru opened his mouth, a half-baked answer on the tip of his tongue, when he was interrupted by the sound of suguru's babbling.

"no. no, please. no more." there were tears in his eyes, dripping down his cheeks prettily, satoru noticed. suguru looked a mess, his hair a halo around his head and his hips lifted in the air as if he was nothing more than a cheap whore. satoru thought he was beautiful. "please. i can't. don't make me. please, please, please, pl—"

his words promptly turned into a loud scream, half-pained and half-pleasured, and satoru's head whipped around to look at the source of it. he swallowed thickly when his eyes dropped from suguru's face to his engorged clit, where your thumb was no longer rubbing at but rather, your earlier free hand was now gently tugging at the hood over it.

holy shit, satoru thought, his head spinning. because he just watched you pinch suguru's clit. you pinched suguru's clit. judging from the nonchalance of your gesture and the way suguru didn't try to fight back, instead canting his hips higher, this was something that you did often.

satoru was going to die. holy shit.

"shh, suguru," you reprimanded, silencing suguru's desperate sobs with a gentle pat to his thigh. suguru sniffled, but he stopped letting out those depressing sounds. "it's not you i'm talking to."

suddenly reminded that he owed you the debt of an answer, he blurted out an answer before he could think twice. "he can," satoru replied. "he's an overachiever, the dumbass. he can come another time."

suguru let out a loud sob at his answer, one that sounded a lot like betrayal.

satoru couldn't properly apologise to him, though, because your lips were curling into a sharp grin, looking like a cat who caught the canary, and satoru couldn't help but think that maybe, he was just in as big of a trouble as suguru was. maybe, with his answer, satoru had condemned not just his best friend, but himself as well.

you pulled your hand out of suguru with a lewd squelch, one that made satoru flush all the way to the roots of his hair—and oh god, he hadn't even realised he could burn up even more—and the way that suguru whimpered, both devastated and relieved by the loss, wasn't helping.

you took a step backwards, letting suguru's body drop onto the mattress. you gestured towards the now empty space between suguru's thighs. "on your knees, satoru. hands behind your back."

satoru couldn't do anything but comply. he dropped to his knees, his hands behind his back and his eyes now at level with suguru's fucked out cunt. holy shit. suguru was twitching, his pretty clit engorged and swollen from the earlier abuse and fucking pierced apparently. satoru exhaled sharply at the sight, his breath fanning across suguru's folds, and earning himself a short, aborted whine from suguru. oh my god.

satoru almost flinched when he felt your hand card through his hair, tangling your fingers into the strands as he guided your face closer to suguru's gushing pussy. "go on," you ordered him, your voice gentled by the sound of melodious laughter. "eat him."

thank you for the meal, satoru thought dazedly as his face was guided closer and closer, until he was buried in suguru's cunt and lapping up the taste of his best friend.

the response was immediate—suguru's thighs started quivering on either side of satoru's head, moving to rest on satoru's shoulders and pulling him in as if to suffocate him. satoru didn't mind, taking that as an unspoken order to start eating his best friend out like his life depended on it.

he didn't bother with hesitating or testing the waters. he licked a broad strip up the length of suguru's cunt, dipping in between his folds to gather the slick there at the centre of his tongue. satoru moaned at the taste, and he was immediately greeted by the feeling of suguru's walls squeezing around him as suguru met him with his own weak whimper.

"suguru's already sensitive." that was you again. there was notable amusement in your voice. "want me to help you make him come faster?"

satoru should say no. he wanted to stay buried in suguru's cunt forever, eating his best friend out until he was shaking all over the place. he wanted to make his best friend feel so good that he stopped being satoru's suguru and instead started becoming your suguru with satoru instead.

but he could hear his best friend's pleas even above the sound of his pounding heartbeat, the sound of suguru's suffering, and he couldn't let this keep going for much longer.

he nodded, the bridge of his nose bumping over suguru's clit in the process. suguru's thighs squeezed around him, a whimper escaping, and satoru quickly drew circles on suguru's hips in apology.

you, on the other hand, didn't seem to have the same courtesy as you told him, "suck on his clit, then open your jaw wide."

satoru obeyed even though he didn't really understand why you were telling him to do that, knowing that you likely understood suguru's body more than he did in this matter.

he pursed his lips around suguru's clit, sucking on it firmly, before he let his jaw drop open.

oh.

oh, holy fuck.

because suguru was squirting directly into his mouth, making a mess out of the lower side of his face, and satoru could only kneel there, his mouth wide open as he swallowed all of his best friend's slick juices. his head was light, and he couldn't breathe—both from the suffocation and the fact that geto suguru, his best friend, his one and only, just fucking squirted into his mouth.

when suguru finally let him free, thighs unlocking from around his head and limply falling onto the edge of the bed. satoru leaned back, unable to process what just happened, when he heard you speak again.

"don't forget your manners, suguru."

it was quiet for a moment, then he heard the small, almost shy, voice of his best friend. "thank you, satoru," suguru mumbled.

"you're welcome," satoru replied, his voice sounding fucked over. he couldn't correct himself just yet, though, his head still reeling.

he was still on his knees as he watched you rearrange suguru on the bed, peppering soft kisses onto his face and his collarbone and his chest in stark contrast to the way you had treated him earlier. there was the lull of soft conversation passing between the both of you, one that satoru didn't try being a voyeur of.

he was content with just kneeling there, his head filled with cotton and static. he didn't even bother with touching himself, still too entranced by the feeling of this all happening.

finally, your footsteps drew close to him. he tilted his head as he watched you approach him. you cupped his chin, tilting his head back to meet your gaze.

"messy," you noted, but the corners of your mouth were quirked into a smile. "but suguru's always been messy." satoru didn't have any response to that, so he simply nodded stupidly. somehow, that must be the right answer because you laughed.

you took a step back, taking a seat onto the edge of the bed. satoru's eyes tracked your movement almost curiously. he frowned when you patted your lap, as if you were expecting something from him.

"over my knee," you said. "i think fifteen should do. usually, i'd give more, but i'm assuming you're new to the scene, hm? don't forget to count."

satoru blinked dumbly. he stayed rooted on his knees. "what?" he asked hoarsely.

you raised a brow at him. "oh, satoru," you said, your voice placating. "did you really think that i was going to let you go unpunished just like that? over my knee. fifteen spanks and i want you to count."

when he still did nothing, your gaze darkened and your voice grew firm. "now, satoru."

oh, satoru thought smartly.

swallowing thickly, he moved to comply.

#once again . this ran away from me #idk if this was what you wanted anon but the idea of satoru eating suguru out literally invaded my brain i'm sorry #literally insane holy shitttt #sub jjk #sub geto suguru #sub gojo satoru #dom reader #top reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru #( asks. )#( thirsts. )

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etherivalmuse · 1 year

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Chapter 001 / Heavy is the Head

“You have to control it Lou!” Lloyd yelled and Louisa lunged for him, fangs out. “Do not let the hunger control you!” He casted back but did not move away. He wanted to show strength against her attack. Lloyd pushed back Leander who was trying to restrain his sister and disburse her rage onto him; the hunger was infectious and Leander eyes grew dark with insatiable desire to feed. “Get back!” Lloyd cried out and Leander fell back breaking his bond with his sister. Louisa let out a cry—a keen of sorrow. She muttered in a prayer ancient Welsh under her breath and she collapsed to the floor, he body heaving with suffering sobs.

Leander paced back and forth across the ancient flagstone floor breathing like he had just ran a marathon. Louisa was propped up on the chaise with a cold cloth over her eyes, and a blood and wine crystal goblet in her grasp. The only sounds that echoed in the room was Leander footfalls and the crashing waves against the Caerwyff Fortress seawalls. “Ander, whilst I understand that you are muting all our emotions,” Louisa stated, “but can you please sit? You are making my headache worst.” She sighed softly and pulled her goblet to her chapped lips and tipped back a large swig. “Sorry,” Leander said softly. He moved more more time to stand in the threshold of the open mezzanine that overlooked the southern coast and the bustling port of Caermôr. “What could they be talking about for so long?” Leander wondered out loud. Louisa got up from her seat letting the cold cloth fall to the stone floor and moved towards Leander. She rested her head on his back feeling the warmth of his skin radiate to her. “He’s dying, Leo,” she finally was able to speak the words. “He’s saying goodbye.” A door opened, and they both sapped their heads to see their uncle standing in the threshold, his eyes weary with grief. Leander and Louisa stared at their uncle until he broke the room’s heavy silence. “We must do it soon,” he confessed with tears pricking his eyes. He walked towards Leander and Louisa and motioned for them to step into the bed chamber. He took the wine for Louisa and drank it in a hasty gulp. Louisa and Leander moved together to the chamber, their hands clasped together like when they were young. Death hung heavy in the air as Leander and Louisa walked into the bed chamber. Their father laid in his sick bed, his hair stick to his ghastly pale skin. It was such a shock to see their father in such a state. He had been a giant all their lives, yet even Heracles fell in his labors. Leofric let out a wet cough that caught in his throat. “Ander—Louie,” their father croaked as his eyes found their faces. A weak smile cracked over his face. Louisa quickly broke from Leander and hastily moved next to her father on the bed. Her body moved next to his and she rested her head on the pillow. She said nothing, but reached for his hand. It was several minuets before anyone spoke. “Parents perish before their children. And what wonderful children I have been blessed with,” Leofric finally spoke and tears rolled down Leander’s face; Louisa silently sobbed: her chest heaving with woe. “This is a choice I make of sound mind. You must care for our own first…” he coughed, “caring for family will care for the Realm,” Leofric tiled his head to meet Louisa’s teary eyes. “You never wanted to be Queen, but you have held the heavy crown with the grace of a thousand stars.” Leofric then craned his neck to Leander. “My son,” Leofric sighed, and Leander broke. “Watching you grow into the man that you are has been a gift knowing that my time has come.” The chamber door opened again and Lloyd stepped in, his hands behind his back to spare the sight of the yew wood stake. He moved around the bed to the other side, Leofric held out his hand to his brother. “This time we have had together as a family I wouldn’t trade for immortality. Lloyd,” Leofric coughed again, “we began this six hundred years ago. Golud calon lân, rinweddol, Yn dwyn bythol elw fydd,” Leofric’s voice softly echoed against the stone, a smile still hung between his pale lips. Louisa sang it back to him with a voice weighed with heartbreak. She squeezed her eyes shut as Lloyd dug a steak into Leofric’s dead heart.

#post / louisa narrie #narrie 001 / heavy is the head #translation of the song lines: The riches of a virtuous pure heart / Will bear eternal profit.#/ yes i quoted that welsh song that luke evans sang #and yea that's what lou's been up to xD #i have more narrie lined up

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betterlifeinoverall-rethabilep · 2 years

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Train Your Love Language Fluency

First foremost, the best Lovers are those who know how to keep same silences. Actually, don’t walk infront of me–I may not follow. Hence, don’t walk behind me–I may not lead. Fairly, just walk beside me and be my love. Hopefully, the love is a present you give yourself. Cherishably, love makes everything twice as nice. Love is forever. Lovers are born, nit made. A cheerful love is like a sunny…

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#Best Lovers #Friendship Is Relative #Friendship Love #Golden Thread That Ties Hearts #How Can Partners Be Union In Relationship #How To Be A Virtuous Wife #How To Be Feminine In Relationship #How To Be Musculine In Relationship #How To Be One In Love #How To Keep Same Silences In Relationship #How To Lead Each Other In Relationship #How To Love With All Your Heart #How To Rule In Castle As King And Queen #Love Divides Sorrows #Love Is Momentus #Love Multiplies Joys #Lovers Are Born #Lovers Are Not Made

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 11 months

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Yandere! Himbo! Werewolf! x Witch! Fem! Reader

TW: forced impregnation, mind control, gore, non-con, dubcon

Kofi: Wanna buy me a coffee?

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒

The deep woods is your home. The animals within it respect you and often help you. The sun's light even points out the trails to walk upon. Though, after the first full moon in January, the wolf moon, things started to change in the forest. Glowing eyes would be in the darkness near your cottage. The noises of animals that filled the forest suddenly began to disappear. Clumps of hair started to appear at your front door. But the most frightening part for you is the mutilated human bodies appearing in your woods.

They were bloody and torn like a wild animal had gotten to them. Hearts were missing from their chests. But, most importantly, there were letters carved into each victim's chest. Each letter slowly spells out your name. Luckily, the new chief of the village, Aaron Flor, believes you when you say you're not involved in these murders. But he did say he wanted to speak with you at sunset, which it now is.

"Y/N, are you here?" Aaron asks, knocking on your door.

"Coming!" You reply, turning off the stove and letting the lavender scent fill the room.

You open the door and see Aaron with a bouquet of roses.

"These are for you. I found these on a bush near your cottage," Aaron says, blushing a little.

"Aaron, that bush is mine. But I still appreciate your gift," You say, placing the flowers in a nearby vase.

"Oh, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. For the last couple of weeks, I've been changing. I've gotten stronger and dumber. And I can't stop thinking of you and your…perfect body."

"Aaron, sit down. You're practically sweating buckets."

You guide Aaron to your bed and lay him down on it. You go into the bathroom to make him a cold washcloth. You place it on his head, and he grabs your wrist. He easily pulls your whole body on top of him and wraps an arm around your waist.

"Aaron, what are you doing? You're a good, virtuous man," You say as Aaron's lips draw closer.

"Hehe…your lips are so plump and kissable," Aaron giggles, his hand rubbing your ass. "Mmn!"

Aaron's peck on the lips leaves you flustered, and he uses it as a chance to undo your hair bun.

"You don't need this bun when there's about to be a bun in your oven," Aaron coos, letting a stray finger go from your stomach to your crotch. "Let's get naked. We need to start working on our family together."

"What family?! Aaron, you're delusional and need to rest!" You yell, but it's too late. Aaron is already untying the back of your dress.

It drops to the floor, leaving your naked body vulnerable as Aaron begins to undress.

"Aaron, I know you're not yourself, but we should think about this. I'm sure you'll be much happier if we have a family after we're married like everyone expects of you."

"I can marry you after filling you up and making you mine."

The moonlight seeps into the room, and you hear his bones crack. You can only watch in horror as brown ears grow at the top of his head, his stature becomes bulkier, hairier, and taller, and his teeth resemble a wolf's. His clothes tear, and he walks towards you with his now bigger penis erect.

"A-Aaron, we can find a cure for you-"

Aaron slips a digit in your panties and slices them off. He gets on his knees and takes a deep whiff of your crotch.

"I can smell your ovulation. It's so intoxicating," Aaron swoons, his long licking your pussy.

"Ah-Aaron!" You moan, tightening your legs to close him off.

"It's ok, darling. I'll make this pleasurable and as comfortable as possible," Aaron replies.

Aaron throws you over his shoulder and carries you through the forest to a dark cave that smells of musk and sex. He puts you in a nest made of bloody clothes, shredded fur, and silk sheets. Aaron kisses your neck and gently spreads your legs. You worriedly glance at his big, veiny cock, and Aaron throws you onto his hairy chest. He holds your face on his right side and places a comforting hand on the back of your head.

"It's ok. My scent will make you calmer and more prepared to be my mate," Aaron comforts, making you smell his pheromones. "Just take deep breaths, and then you'll be ready."

Forced to breathe in his scent, you take a deep breath. Your body feels more relaxed, and your mind becomes a pup and mating-filled mess.

"Aaron, you smell so nice and…safe," You comment, your hips unconsciously grinding against his crotch. "Ooohh…"

"You want my pups, don't you?" Aaron asks, his hand going to your pussy and rubbing your clit.

"Oh, yes! I would love to be your mate! I want your seed! I want it!" You beg, looking into his canine-like eyes.

Aaron chuckles and places his dick inside you. You moan into his chest, making his cock twitch.

"Aaron, please! I want it so bad!" You plead, starting to ride his dick.

"I know, sweetie! I know!" Aaron responds, leaning forward and placing you in a mating press.

Aaron begins to thrust into you, and all you can do is moan for him like a good mate. Aaron pants like a dog, and soon enough, his thrusts start to get faster.

"Take it! Take it! Take it like a good bitch!" Aaron moans, his knot growing by the minute.

"Ah! Yes! Yes! I'm a good bitch! I'm your good bitch!" You coo, your eyes rolling into your forehead.

Aaron gently slaps your cheek and makes your eyes focus on him.

"Tongue out!" Aaron commands, sticking his tongue, expecting yours to touch his.

You stick your tongue out, and Aaron gives you a big, sloppy kiss as his balls empty into you. You moan into his mouth as your orgasm rocks your body. His hands grip around yours tighten, and you mentally tap out at the feeling of multiple strings of semen entering your pussy, ready to make you pregnant.

"Oh, darling, you have a cute little bulge from my cock," Aaron teases, running a hand around your stomach.

"Ah…ah…ahaha…" You moan, deliriously staring at Aaron.

"I might as well make sure your boobs are ready for our pups."

Aaron sucks your right nipple, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through your spine. The other boob is stimulated by his hand rubbing and pulling your nipple.

~~~~~ "Aaron! Aaron, what have we done?!" You scream, looking at your naked body next to his.

Aaron, now back to his senses but still werewolf-like, quickly calms you down with a kiss.

"I told you I'd take care of you. Now rest. Your body needs it."

"But, why are you a werewolf?"

"I got bit by a wolf in the French countryside a while back. But it doesn't matter now. What matters now is our pups."

You cum at the mention of your impregnation, and that's when you notice Aaron is still inside you.

"Now go to sleep unless you want to be fucked to sleep."

"Yes, my love."

#yandere smut #yandere werewolf #yandere teratophilia #yandere noncon #yandere dubcon #f! reader smut #smut #yandere male #yandere monster #1k notes #2k notes

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