#(shows how respectful he is towards a subject as delicate as time itself)

[besanii]

paper-thin

[ WangXian ; XiXian ]

--

The war is won!

Gusu is victorious!

Hanguang-wang is alive!

--

A sizeable crowd has gathered on the streets outside of the palace gates by the time Lan Wangji arrives, freshly bathed and changed out of his travel-weary and battle-worn armour into his formal robes. He dismounts as the guards approach, keeping the reins in his hand as he shows his pass; they grant him passage with a low bow, moving to the side as he leads his horse through the gates as quickly as decorum will allow.

The maids and eunuchs he passes on his way to the Hall of Mental Cultivation pay their respects with low bows and bent knees, lowering their gazes as they murmur his title with something akin to awe. He nods curtly in response but otherwise does not halt in his progress—it would not do to keep the Emperor waiting, war hero or not.

It's been over a year since he went to war, defending Gusu's coast against the invading forces of Dongying. The war had been harrowing and brutal and there were many times Lan Wangji where hadn't been sure he would survive. But he'd fought on with grit and tenacity, acutely aware of his role as a member of the Imperial family to lead and inspire his troops by example. That is, until a well-aimed arrow caught him in the shoulder between the plates of his armour, and sent him overboard in the midst of battle.

He’d survived. Barely.

The doors to the Imperial study are open when he arrives, and the eunuchs kneeling on either side of the door touch their foreheads to the ground in greeting. He walks up to the eunuch standing closest to the door.

“I am here to see the Emperor,” he says.

“Yes, Wangye,” the eunuch replies.  He gets to his feet and turns to the door, raising his voice to announce: “Huangshang, Hanguang-wang begs an audience.”

They do not have to wait long for a response.

“Enter.”

The Emperor is still dressed in his court robes despite the lateness of the hour—the afternoon court session had been over for at least two shichen already—the black silk sleeves stark against the embroidered gold draped over the desk where he works. He puts his brush down as Lan Wangji parts the beaded curtain hanging from the archway leading into the main chamber, a smile already forming on his lips as he watches Lan Wangji kneel in the centre of the room.

“Your humble servant greets Huangshang,” Lan Wangji says, touching his forehead to the floor. “May our Emperor live for ten thousand years.”

“You may rise, Hanguang-wang,” the Emperor says. "We are very pleased to see you returned to the capital alive and well. Your service to the Empire will be duly rewarded."

Lan Wangji rises to his feet, sweeping over the invisible creases of his robe and shaking out his wide sleeves.

"Huangshang gives your subject too much credit," he replies. "I live to serve the Empire and will gladly give my life a thousand times over in its protection."

"Your devotion is recognised, Hanguang-wang, and appreciated," the Emperor says. "Nevertheless, a great victory such as this should be rewarded. Come, brother, is there anything you would wish for? Name it and it shall be granted."

Lan Wangji's hands curl into fists by his side.

"Huangshang would grant anything your subject wishes?" he asks quietly.

The smile on the Emperor's face freezes. A muscle twitches in his jaw as he swallows; he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly. The smile smooths into something cooler, but no less genial.

"Anything within reason," he clarifies.

Lan Wangji exhales and bows his head.

"Your lowly subject dares to presume Huangshang knows what it is I wish for," he says, keeping his voice carefully level. "There is only one wish—one request—your lowly subject would make."

He hears the Emperor sigh, a low, disappointed sound, and his stomach sinks with realisation. But he had not dragged himself out of the depths of hell and back here to give up so easily. In the three months he had allowed himself to be presumed dead, laying feverish and close to death with an infected wound, it had been this one hope, this one wish that had kept him clinging to life. If he survived the war, won the war, then nothing would stop him from coming back and finally—finally—asking for the one thing he's wanted more than life itself.

When he chances an upward glance, the corner of the Emperor's lips are drawn in tight and the crease between his brows have deepened. Lan Wangji has had years to learn the shape of the Emperor's moods, even the ones he hides behind pleasantries and polite smiles, and he knows the Emperor is displeased.

"We would advise Hanguang-wang to make another request," he says finally. Do not continue to pursue this.

Lan Wangji drops to his knees. "Huangshang, you know there is nothing else I would ask for.”

“Wangji, enough!” The room stills. A sigh. “Leave us.”

The eunuchs and maids turn in unison and bow, backing out of the chamber without a word; the door to the study shuts behind them. Lan Wangji curls and uncurls his fists against his thighs, breathing heavily through his nose as he struggles to get his heart rate back under control. He hears the rustle of fabric, followed by footsteps from behind the desk coming towards him, but he dares not raise his eyes.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen says in an odd, stilted tone Lan Wangji has never heard before. “There is something you should know.”

--

Eunuchs and palace maids alike cower in the wake of his fury, scattering to the winds as soon as he passes. No one stops to question why a male member of the Imperial family aside from the Emperor and his sons is here, unaccompanied, within the gilded walls of the inner palace. Perhaps word had been sent ahead of his arrival, perhaps they had been expecting him--whatever the reason, Lan Wangji knows he would cut down anyone who dares stand in his way right now.

His mind is still reeling as he turns the corner along the once-familiar path that winds through the Imperial gardens, his feet following the route ingrained into him as a child still living within the palace walls.

He hasn't walked this path in close to fifteen years. Not much has changed: the trees and the flowers are the same--still the delicate gentians favoured by the previous mistress of this particular courtyard—only now there are also lotuses surrounding the small pavilion in the heart of the man-made pond, filling the air with their sweet fragrance. And inside that pavilion, an entirely different person is silhouetted against the afternoon sun.

A skirmish arose between Yunmeng and Qishan involving Qishan-hou's second son. 

Wen-er-gongzi was injured in the confrontation.

He takes a step forward, his feet suddenly heavy as though weighed down by boulders, dragging along the gravel. The person in the pavilion is still too far to have noticed him, but Lan Wangji has a clear view of the long black hair twisted up into a half-knot to expose the line of a long, slender neck, held in place by a fanzhan made of silver and set with blue sapphires. The sight of it makes his throat run dry.

Qishan demanded retribution for the injuries inflicted on Wen-er-gongzi. The life of his attacker.

Both Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen were each presented with a set the rare jewels at their coming of age, a mark of their status as members of the Imperial family. To see the same jewels adorning the familiar head of hair—

We believed you dead, Wangji. 

He drags his feet another step forward, the breath catching in his throat as the person in the pavilion half-turns at the sound.

We needed to protect him.

“Who goes there?” a eunuch calls, hurrying around the corner along the path around the pond. “This is Wei-xuanyi’s private garden, outsiders are not perm—”

“It’s alright, let him through.”

A lump forms in his throat so large he can barely breathe around it without pain; whatever hope of this being a cruel joke is crushed at the familiar voice. How many times in the past year has he heard it in his dreams? How many times has the memory of that voice called him back from the gates of Hell itself, when the rest of the world thought him dead?

The eunuch drops to his knees on the side of the garden path and bows his head; Lan Wangji takes this as a sign to proceed.

As a child, the garden path had always seemed wide and inviting; it had always led to his mother, the late Empress, the only source of light and happiness and home in his childhood. And yet now all he feels is dread, cold and dark, seeping out through the cracks in the surface of his façade with every step.

Lan Xichen’s words ring in his ears.

Wangji, it was the only way we could save him.

He stops at the bottom of the steps leading into the pavilion. Four steps. Just four steps, and yet his legs refuse to move, to take even just one more step forward; it is as though his body is fighting with everything it has against it. He can't move.

He is unsure how long he stands there at the bottom of the steps boring holes into the paved stones—it is difficult to keep track when one's mind is filled with the deafening roar of one's own heartbeat. It is not until the sound of footsteps, followed by a rush of activity in his periphery as the palace maids and eunuchs fall to their knees in unison, does he finally raise his eyes.

There, standing at the top of the steps, clad in soft, flowing robes of Gusu blue and Yunmeng purple, with Lan Xichen's jewels in his hair—

Wangji. Wei Wuxian—

Wei Wuxian lowers his head and bends at the knees, his fingertips clasped lightly by his hip. A demure greeting, wildly unsuitable for a member of the gentry.

“Hanguang-wang,” he murmurs. He raises his eyes slightly, enough to peer at Lan Wangji from beneath his lashes. Demure. Restrained.

The ground crumbles beneath Lan Wangji’s feet.

—I have taken Wei Wuxian as a consort.

--

Translations

Wangye (王爺) - equivalent of a Duke, usually Emperor’s brother or uncle

Huangshang  (皇上) - the Emperor; as per usual, I only use the pinyin when the term is used when directly addressing LXC

hou (侯) - equivalent of Marquis, second highest rank after 王

xuanyi (宣儀) - lit. ‘Propagator of Deportment’, a variant of the Tang dynasty concubine ranking pin (嬪) that doesn’t use feminine qualities; the second highest rank after furen/zande (夫人/贊德), used between 662-670 (possibly under Wu Zetian’s influence)

fazhan (髮簪) - hair ornament/pin

--

Notes

Title is taken from the Chinese phrase boming (薄命), which means to have an unlucky fate (usually in reference to women). It literally translates to “thin life/fate”. Inspired by a line in the song 雪落下的聲音 (the sound of snowfall; Story of Yanxi Palace OST):  此生 如纸般薄命 - this life, my fate is as thin as paper.

For those of you wondering where the hell I’m going with this—I have no fucking clue lmao. I just wanted to write WangXian angst with a dose of XiXian that doesn’t involve Dark!LXC for once. I also cannot be bothered to look back on this anymore, so any mistakes are purely cos I’ve given up working on this any further hahahahahaha *dies*

Inspired by a mish-mash of Story of Yanxi Palace (Fuheng x Yinglou reunion anyone???) and Empress of China (mostly the OST, but also the gorgeous costuming and setting of the Tang Dynasty).

Will I continue it? Maybe??? It took me weeks to even get my ass into gear to write this one snippet, I honestly don’t know if I will get around to writing more. But if it interests you, send me an ask about the ‘verse and I’ll try and expand more on it, even if it’s just headcanon form and not fic.

--

buy me a ko-fi!

--

#my writing #wangxian #mdzs #lan wangji #wei wuxian #薄命 #王爺機 x 妃子羡 #lan xichen #xixian #consort!wwx #emperor!lxc #duke!lwj #lan wangji x wei wuxian #lan xichen x wei wuxian #🔪🔪 #harem au #imperial au #set in the Tang Dynasty if we REALLY have to specify lol #paper thin fic

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑂𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑈𝑝𝑜𝑛 𝐴𝑛 𝑈𝑠 (𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜) 𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐶𝐸𝑂! 𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)/𝐸𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝐷𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡, 𝑁𝑜𝑛! 𝐼𝑑𝑜𝑙 𝐴𝑈

𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝐶𝐸𝑂 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑. 𝐻𝑒'𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑝ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒........𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑜'𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑦.

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡:6K

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑀𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝 𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑏𝑠/𝑒𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑙𝑎𝑝 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑑𝑟𝑦 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 (𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑦), 𝑎𝑠𝑝ℎ𝑦𝑥𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘, 𝑠𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑒, 𝑢𝑛𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑥 (𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛).

✧═══════•❁❀❁•═══════✧

"In behalf of all of us present here, I'd like to congratulate our dear friend Yunho on finally settling down, on finding someone who truly makes him happy and promising to spend the rest of his life with her."

Lifting the glass cup up, Seonghwa finished with a loud:

"To Yunho and his lovely bride."

The rest of the groomsmen let out a bunch of hollers and whistling, signaling their approval of the speech given by the oldest male.

Yunho couldn't keep the happy grin off his face.

"Thanks so much guys. It really means a lot to me that you guys would do this for me."

"What kind of friends would we be if we weren't happy for you?" Hongjoong nudged him gently.

"And what kind of groomsmen would we be if we didn't throw you a super cool and totally expensive bachelor party." Wooyoung clinked glasses with San, both giving each other a not so subtle look that they were up to something.

The rest decided to ignore them, figuring they were just messing around like they usually did. They began to talk about their own married lives, funny stories that happened to them while they were on the honeymoon, their first fights as couples, and how they tended to deal with their in laws. Seonghwa was also more than happy to talk about how his wife and him were already trying for a baby, which came to no surprise to the others, considering how much he adored kids. The two single men though, were quickly becoming bored with the subject, either rolling their eyes at them or just downing more shots just to kill time.

"Ok! If you pansies are done, I think it's time to bring out the real entertainment." San got up and went over to the door.

Yunho tensed up noticeably.

"San.....remember I said no strippers or anything like that."

"Oh lighten up Yunho! It'll only be one night! One night before you're forever tied down to 1 woman! 1!" Wooyoung argued.

"Unsurprised you'd be in on this sort of shenanigans as well." Yeosang rolled his eyes at him.

"Ok so can I open the door and let the fine ladies on?" San tapped his foot impatiently.

Yunho lowered himself on his seat.

"I p-promised Jieun...."

"Have a little respect you assholes." Hongjoong piped up, sensing how uncomfortable his friend was getting.

"Ok fine! I'll tell you what."

Going over to him, San made Yunho get up and pointed him towards another door at the end of the hallway.

"See that room there? Why don't you be a good little obedient puppy to your new master and watch tv or something while we enjoy ourselves here. Does that sound like a plan?" San asked him with a totally innocent smile.

"Ok!" Yunho didn't even hesitate to get out of the situation, already walking away as rapidly as he could.

"I wanna go too-"

"No you don't!" Wooyoung grabbed Yeosang, nearly choke holding him, the poor man struggling to breathe.

The rest of the boys watched as Yunho left, oblivious to what was happening behind him. It was Seonghwa who knew something was up.

"What did you do?" He questioned them, eyeing them suspiciously.

San and Wooyoung released a series of laughs that only made the rest of them worry.

"Let's just say Yunho might just have the best time of his life if he'd let loose a little." San hinted.

The other boys looked at them in disbelief.

"You didn't." Mingi's mouth dropped.

"Ok, that's low even for you two. I'm going over there and getting him out if it."

Hongjoong was stopped in his tracks by San.

"Listen, Yunho is old enough to decide for himself. If he's really uncomfortable, he'll leave as soon as the girl gets there. If not....well....he's one lucky guy." He snorted.

Wooyoung shook his head.

"I'm still mad at you for letting him have her. I wanted her!"

"It was only fair he got the best one don't you think? This is his party." San explained.

"Who? Who exactly did you get for him?"

✧═══════•❁❀❁•═══════✧

Yunho shifted awkwardly in the dimly lit room. He could hardly make out any of the furniture surrounding him, which resulted in him tripping or hitting his thigh or hip on the corner of somethings.

"Light light. Where's the light?" He tried feeling around, hoping to find something somewhere.

Instead, the room itself lit up a light lavender color, slow and sensual music playing in the background. Yunho froze as he realized what he just walked into.

"Fuck you San." He ran his hand down his face, already getting nervous at whatever was going to happen now.

Soon enough, he heard the door behind him open. The clatter of heels resonated in the room. Still not turning around, Yunho nervously said:

"Listen, th-this was all a misunderstanding....so if-if you could please just go back, I'd really appreciate it."

The footsteps halted themselves, and all was silent for a moment, until the figure started walking once again, this time emanating a subtle giggle.

"A little shy aren't we? Don't worry honey. I'll make sure to ease your mind."

Yunho could hear them approaching him even more.

"N-no! That's ok! I don't- I mean! I have a fiancee." He blurted out.

The person now stood right behind him and Yunho felt a shudder down his body, as well as an overly familiar thrill when they rested their hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah I know. A lot of soon to be married men always say that........ don't worry."

Leaning in, they whispered in his ear:

"It'll be our little secret."

Delicate hands wrapped themselves around his waist. Yunho pried their hands off and began turning.

"No! Seriously I don't-"

Yunho cut himself off when he stared at the person standing right in front of him, who was equally shocked to see him.

"Y/N?"

"Yunho?"

They both stared in disbelief at each other, both wondering if it was their imagination or if this was reality. Yunho was extremely stunned. Here right in front of him, was none other than his very first love, looking at him with the same angelic eyes that he had fallen madly in love with years ago. His eyes couldn't help but start trailing down, scanning down every inch of her body. He blushed as he took in her attire: an ivory white lingerie set with glittery silver adornments meticulously stitched into it. It consisted of a push up bra that made her cleavage look more rounded, a corset that highlighted her waist and made her hips look wider, lace cheeky panties made specifically to show off just enough of her ass, and long thigh high stockings that had an intricate lace trimming with 2 bows at the center.

Yunho gulped slowly as he took all of her in. Her glamorous body dressed so provocatively as well as memories of the past, memories that were not so pure, memories of their bodies intertwined together, all were becoming too much for him and he felt himself start to grow a little problem in his pants. Y/N on the other hand noticed how he was staring at her and she started to become a little self-conscious. She wrapped her arms across her chest in a protective manner.

"Well isn't this suddenly awkward." She was the first to speak up.

"Huh? Oh right!" Yunho snapped out of his trance, now looking at anywhere but her, hoping not to think about her in that way anymore.

The silence from before returned once again, only the music playing to keep it from being totally mute. Yunho scratched the back of his head, trying to think of what to say.

"It's nice to see you.....it's been so long." He started.

"Y-yeah it has been. A couple of years." She continued.

"6 actually." Yunho surprised himself that he remembered that fact.

Y/N let out a small 'oh' at that, nodding at nothing in particular.

"So uh.......is this what you do now?" He questioned her, curious to know why she'd even be in such a position in the first place.

"Ummm....yeah..." She answered rather embarrassed.

Yunho decided not to further that topic anymore, it was obvious she didn't want to talk about it.

"Still at your dad's company?"

Yunho was surprised and touched she even remembered that.

"Oh yeah....I actually took over 2 years ago." He smiled proudly.

"Oh really? That's great. I'm sure your family must be proud." She congratulated him.

She swayed back and forth awkwardly, wanting to ask another questions but afraid of his response.

"So......you're getting married?" She finally asked.

Yunho looked confused for a second, then he realized what she meant.

"Ummm.....yeah....I am."

"Well then congratulations. She really is a lucky girl." She forced a smile on her features.

"Oh I wouldn't say that......you know she's just really nice....and she's like that... and yeah..." at this point Yunho was just rambling on, he himself not even sure of what he was talking about.

Y/N sighed softly.

"Ok I have to know. If you're getting married, what are you doing in a place like this? You were always more on the....conservative side of things." She had to know.

Yunho now covered his face with his large hands.

"I don't know. I swear there were supposed to be no wild or crazy antics at this bachelor party, but I got these 2 friends, and they're single and you can figure out the rest." He tried to explain.

"Oh yeah. There's always that couple of friends that just never take things seriously." She chuckled, having seeing that situation too many times.

Yunho groaned slightly.

"Well....I guess this was the easiest gig I've had to do." She decided to lighten up the situation.

"What do you mean?"

She let out a laugh at Yunho's question.

"I mean, I'm practically getting paid to just sit here since obviously you won't want me to do my job." She rolled her eyes.

"No! I mean yes! I mean.....ugh!" Yunho mentally slapped himself.

"Won't you get in trouble?"

She shrugged.

"Considering the fact your friends specifically paid for 'no rules', I really won't."

"Oh...." Yunho breathed out, not realizing he sounded a little too disappointed.

Y/N turned and smirked at him.

"What? Were you expecting me to give you something?" She teased him.

"What?! I- No!" Yunho's red ears was a huge indication of his lie.

Y/N let out a small laugh as she came closer to him, making him back away from her.

"Oh? I think you're lying Yunho. I think you actually want me to give you a little show. Is that what you want?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

Yunho stumbled back on the couch, falling into a sitting position as Y/N placed her arms on opposite sides of his body, effectively trapping him. Yunho couldn't help it as he looked back down at her chest and then down her legs. He bit his lip as he imagined them wrapped around his waist, as they had been many times in the past. He looked back up at her face. He knew she was only messing with him, she wouldn't actually do anything to him, especially if he asked her not to. And he really shouldn't allow anything to happen.... but he decided to ignore his gut for the first time in years and not think about the consequences.

Yunho let out a small scoff as he leaned in and challenged her:

"Can you even do anything doll?"

He watched as Y/N momentarily felt dazed at his use of the old pet name he had for her, knowing the impact it had on her.

"I bet you're not even that good." He continued his taunting, wanting to rile her up as much as he could.

It definitely worked as Y/N grabbed his collar and pushed his face against hers.

"I'm actually the best around here baby. Trust me when I say before I'm done, you'll already be cumming inside your pants." She whispered, her lips dangerously close to his, their noses practically touching.

Yunho released a small grunt when she pushed him back in the chair. He watched her as she went over to a keypad on the wall, changing the music to a completely different song. His eyes lingered on her butt cheeks that were poking out of the lace material. His hand twitched, feeling the urge to bend her over his lap and spank them like he used to do when she misbehaved. He watched in fascination as she turned her attention back to him, her face suddenly turning more confident and seductive.

Y/N's body began swaying to the music, every wave of her arms, every roll of her hips and every flirty wink were so mesmerizing and hypnotic to Yunho. He always had a hidden passion for dancing, so this was quite a spectacle for him, especially coming from his dearly beloved ex. An ex that he had cried and yearned for long after he let her go, someone that it took a long time for him to forget and erase completely from his heart.

But now she was here again and she was stirring emotions inside him he had thought he'd gotten over, had buried away. And reactions from his body that he had thought he had under control. But as he watched her crawl over to him, placing herself in between his thighs, he couldn't help but hard as he recalled the last time he had her in that position. He shuddered when she ran her hands across his thighs, her perfectly manicured nails raking over his dress pants. From this angle, he could see an even better view of her breasts that were covered by her bra.

Noticing where his eyes were placed, Y/N's hands swooped up and caressed her torso.

"Oh? Is this what got your attention?"

Yunho's stare went back to her face, now getting shy at the realization that he got caught staring. But Y/N didn't mind. Instead she merely turned around as she began unbuttoning the front part of her corset.

"Want to have a better look?" She turned her head slightly to see his reaction.

Yunho was already whispering out a 'yes' before she even finished her sentence. Satisfied by the answer, she took off the corset and threw it across the room, letting it land on the floor. As she said back up, she made sure to push her ass out when she got back out. Yunho tilted his head back when it came to close to his face that it would have pressed against it had he not moved. Y/N turned around and one by one, her legs sat themselves by Yunho's side, straddling him in the process. Her hands began fiddling with his tie, loosening it up.

"This what you wanted to see?" She cooed as she rose her chest up, almost brushing them against his chin.

"Fuck yes.."

Without thinking, Yunho's large hands cupped her ass, kneading the soft skin as he grinded his hips against hers. Y/N let out a small whimper at his touch, the familiarity sending a spark down her body. Yunho couldn't help the smug smile when he began to feel the wet spot that was soaking through her underwear.

"Look at that, the little slut is enjoying this as much as I am."

Slapping her ass, he gripped her hips harshly as he forced her to grind down harder on him. Y/N moaned as she felt his huge bulge pressing up against her drenched core, and threw her head back when Yunho's lips began attacking her neck, nearly startling her.

"Let's see who cums first."

Yunho's mouth sucked and bit down expertly at all her sensitive spots, remembering perfectly well how to push her closer to the edge. He felt a sense of pride and satisfaction when he heard her moans and whimpers grow louder. Even after years, he could still get her riled up. And that fact kind of bothered Y/N which prompted her to push Yunho down on the couch and hold his arms in place as she decided to take control of the movements of their hips.

Yunho hissed softly as he looked at her with fire in his eyes.

"Don't try to take control doll. You know how that will end for you."

Knowing how to break him, she simply laughed mockingly at him and rolled her eyes. Yanking his hands off her grip rather easily, Yunho flipped their positions so he was hovering above her, his mouth clashing with hers in a heated and sloppy kiss. He wasted no time in slipping his hand inside her now ruined underwear, his thumb circling around her clit in harsh motions.

"Why must you be such a brat?" He asked in between their heated makeout session.

Chuckling softly, her hand undid his belt and zipper, pulling it down enough to let her palm him through his briefs before pulling those down as well, letting his cock spring free so she could stroke him, eliciting the most sinful moans from him.

Both of them pulled away to look into each other's eyes, determined to make the other break first, but it was so hard when they were both lost in their lust, reminiscing about the familiarity of their movements and fantasizing about taking it further. The grinding of their hips and their mutual pleasuring of each other had them both coming in seconds at the same time. They let out a sputter of curses and chants of each other's names as they covered their hands with the other's cum, a telltale sign of what had just taken place in that room.

They both layed still for a few minutes, trying to catch their breath and calm down from the high they just had. It was Yunho who composed himself first as he realized what he had just done and how serious it was.

"Oh my god!" He cursed himself as he quickly got up and began fixing himself.

"Yunho? Are you-"

"Please don't! Let's just pretend this didn't happen! I can't believe I-....... I'm so sorry."

Without another glance or word, he ran out the door, ignoring the worried looks of his other companions who were still in the other room and leaving Y/N alone, feeling just as confused, guilty and ashamed just like him.

✧═══════•❁❀❁•═══════✧

"Yunho."

Mingi nudged him once again, waking him up from his thoughts.

"Uh..sorry what?" He shifted his focus back on his friend.

"I was telling you that the hotel sent your confirmation number." He repeated himself.

"Hotel? Hotel for what?"

Mingi widened his eyes. Sure his friend had been really zoned out all day, but to not even remember what he was there for.

"Your wedding? Yunho, you're getting married?" He reminded him.

"Oh...yeah..." Yunho looked down, staring at the floor anxiously.

Mingi closed the laptop and turned his body so he could look at Yunho directly.

"Listen, even if something happened on the bachelor party a few days ago, I doubt it was that serious that you're like this." Mingi pointed out.

Yunho looked back up, unsure if he should tell Mingi about it. But then again, no one else but his long time best friend would understand why it had such an impact on him.

"It wasn't so much what happened....it was...with whom it happened...."

Mingi furrowed his eyebrows.

"Who? Who are you talking about?"

Yunho took a deep breath before answering:

"Y/N..."

Mingi nearly fell off his chair when he heard her name again. He actually had to steady himself on the sides of it.

"Y/N? As in........?"

Yunho nodded, knowing full well what Mingi was asking.

"Well fuck man! Holy shit! This is- oh my God! Your ex!" Mingi shook his head, trying to process all the information.

"You know she isn't just an ex Mingi." Yunho admitted rather solemnly.

"I know Yunho. I remember how head over heels you were for her. You two were so much in love, it was actually kind of sickening." Mingi made a face which caused Yunho to chuckle slightly.

Mingi looked at Yunho, noticing how he had a faint smile painted across his face. By the way his eyes were staring off, he knew he was thinking about her.

"Did you....did you feel anything? I mean, while you were with her?" He had to ask.

The slight red tint on Yunho's cheeks was a dead giveaway and Mingi could immediately notice how Yunho's eyes lit up when he mentioned her.

"I felt everything all over again. It was like the first day I bumped into her at the university. Oh you should have seen her Mingi, she looked just as beautiful." Yunho sighed blissfully.

"I mean.....if she was dressed like the other exotic dancers we got, I get why you'd say it." Mingi snickered.

Yunho reached over and slapped his arm.

"That wasn't what I meant you idiot!"

Mingi pouted as he rubbed his now aching arm.

"But still.......being with her in that moment...it was as if nothing changed between us. Like our passion, our relationship...our love never faded. And now.... I can't stop thinking about her..." Yunho confessed.

"Have you kept in contact since that day?" Mingi asked.

Yunho groaned as he banged his head on the table.

"I just ran out without even saying a goodbye."

Mingi rolled his eyes and ran a hand down his face.

"No offense....but once again, history repeats itself."

Yunho suddenly banged the table with his fist, eyes darting to Mingi.

"Do you think I don't know that?! Do you think it doesn't bother me knowing that I left her there, not just at the party? But 6 years ago?! Do you think I haven't been tormented these past days, regretting that I chose to please my parents and abandon her?!"

Yunho got up. His hands flew up to his hair, tugging at them slightly before letting them fall to his sides. He started taking deep breaths to calm down, trying not to get anymore agitated than he already was. Mingi looked at his friend with sorrow and pity. He knew how much Yunho suffered and tortured himself months after he broke up with Y/N, and he also know that deep down, he had never really gotten over her.

Getting up, he went to his friend's side, resting a comforting hand on his back.

"Yunho.....you can't change the past. None of us can.....but you can decide your future, for yourself. Answer yourself: these past years, everything that you've done, was it really for you? Was it because you wanted to?.....or was it because you wanted to please others? Live up to an image you felt burdened to show?......and really ask yourself:

What is it you want now?"

Yunho knew what the answer was for a fleeting moment, but then the answer vanished when he heard the door open and close.

"Baby! I'm home! And I could really use your help!"

The high pitched voice of his fiancee echoed through the room, her tiny legs rushing over with a folder in hand.

"My cue to leave." Mingi patted Yunho on the back, but before he could leave, he whispered in his ear:

"Think about what I said."

Mingi made sure to smile and politely say goodbye to Jieun before he made his way out the door, hoping his friend would come to his senses soon enough.

"So Jieun what's this about?" Yunho asked.

The girl giggled happily as she opened the folder and began displaying an array of different photos.

"Well I was thinking, that we could pick out the new apartment we would want to move in to once we come back from our honeymoon. I mean, this place is great, but I think some change would be benefit us both."

The girl began pointing to all the different options, talking her heart out enthusiastically about the wonders of each place and what she particular loved about it, but it fell upon deaf ears. Yunho was not paying any attention at all, instead he just looked right through all the pictures, his mind going over the words Mingi had made him ponder about.

"Yunho?" Jieun's annoyed voice brought him back.

"Hmm?" He nodded his head to her.

"You're not paying attention to me....again." She huffed rather annoyed.

"I'm sorry....I'm just really tired and stressed out." He excused himself.

"Yeah I know. You've been saying that these past days." She accused him.

"I'm sorry. But I just really am."

She let out an indignant scoff.

"And you think I'm not stressed? For months we've been preparing for this moment, and now that we're literally 2 days away from tying the knot, you're suddenly being cold? What's wrong with you Yunho?"

He couldn't answer her, he didn't have the strength to. He was being a coward at that very moment, he knew that very well.

"Jieun....do you think maybe we should postpone it or-"

"Absolutely not!" She stated firmly, refusing to let him finish the sentence. Lifting a finger, she warned him:

"Listen to me very carefully Jeong Yunho. You asked me to be marry you and I'm not letting you go back on your word. Tomorrow at the rehearsal dinner, you better be on your best behavior and on the day after.....you better be ready to walk down the aisle because I'm not going to let you humiliate me in front of our friends and family."

Putting on a sweet smile as if nothing happened, she tiptoed and pecked his lips.

"Ok love you honey. See you tomorrow!" She waved at him as if nothing was the matter, like she wasn't just angry at him 2 seconds ago.

Yunho paced around the living room, hands in his pocket, his foot occasionally kicking at the air. He let out long sighs every minute or so, head hung low as he thought about what to do now.

"What is it you want now?"

He repeated what Mingi asked him.

Yunho knew what he wanted.....he also knew all the risks he was taking in order to obtain it, for all he knew, he might not even get it at the end....

But he had to try. Or at least get some closure from it.

Pulling out his phone, his finger began dialing a number he had never erased from his memory, hoping it still belonged to the person he had once cherished so much and would often fall asleep while talking to them on the phone.

He could feel his heartbeat quicken with every ring that passed. His hand began clenching and unclenching as he prayed that it would be picked up soon.

"Hello?"

He stilled at the voice that sent chills down his body. He was grateful they had kept the same number all these years.

"We need to talk."

✧═══════•❁❀❁•═══════✧

Y/N cautiously opened the door. Although she knew he was coming, she still wasn't quite prepared to see him, not after everything that happened a few days ago. She gestured for him to come in. Closing the door behind them, she led him to her living room, where she already had coffee waiting for him. It was actually warming to him that she remembered how he liked his coffee, and although he was very tempted to drink it, he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

"I'm getting married in two days..." He started off.

Y/N nodded, although his words pained her, she refused to show any emotion.

"And I wanted to know how you felt."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why should my opinion matter at this point? You made your decision and as far as I'm concerned, right now we're just two strangers." She coldly replied.

"That's not true Y/N and you know it. You know....that there's a lot more to us." He insisted.

She held her hand up in an effort to get him to stop going down the path he was going.

"Correction. There was a lot to us. If I remember correctly, you were the one who decided to run out, both literally and figuratively."

Yunho didn't deny it, he was fully prepared to take responsibility.

"Yes I did. Ok? I admit it and I accept it. I walked away from our relationship when I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have abandoned you..."

He inhaled before he confessed:

"I shouldn't have left the one person I've ever loved and will always love."

Y/N immediately got up and crossed her arms.

"Don't say that Yunho. You're engaged, you're about to get married. It's bad enough with what happened at your bachelor party, but I'm not letting you cross the line again. You have a perfect life ahead of you, you were always destined to have one. A life surrounded by your parents and friends, with a beautiful wife and kids and that Welsh Corgi you always wanted..."

Y/N couldn't help but tear up as she said those words.

"I get why you had to leave me at that time, I do. Your parents didn't like me and they never will. They'll never accept us...... so please just make it easier on yourself and go have the perfect life you deserve."

Yunho slowly got up and began walking to her.

"You don't get it Y/N. I don't want a perfect life. I want you, I love you. I'll always love you. I want a happy, normal life with you. I want to raise that Welsh Corgi with you, even though you were always more of a cat person."

Y/N let out an involuntary laugh at that. He still knew her so well. Taking her hands in his, he added:

"Please tell me you still love me......just say it and I'll stay by your side."

Y/N covered her mouth with her hand, her tears now flowing non-stop. She was about to say no, but Yunho stopped her.

"Don't lie to me. You know I'll be able to tell. Just be completely honest with me."

His large hands cupped her cheeks, thumbs gently wiping away the tears that were trickling down.

"I'm not rich and I don't exactly have anything to offer someone like you." She admitted.

Yunho smiled. "All I want is your heart. Can't I at least have that?"

Y/N thought about it. But then she realized there was nothing to really think about when her answer 6 years ago would still be the same now.

"I love you Jeong Yunho, my heart is all yours."

As soon as the words were out, there was no more holding back. Their feelings had been locked away for far too long and needed to be released. Yunho wasted no time in finally kissing her after so long, his hands easily hoisting her up, wrapping them around his waist as he carried her to her bedroom, kicking the door open and laying her down on the bed. Their touches were eager and desperate, almost as much as the first time they were intimate together. Clothes were soon discarded all over the floor, hands began roaming and caressing their most intimate parts of their bodies and soon enough, the sound of skin slapping, heavy breathing and panting were the only things that could be heard in those 4 walls.

Yunho pulled Y/N up against him, her back now pressed against his sweaty chest as he continued to slam his hips against hers. One of his hands that was busy groping her breast trailed down her abdomen and stopped when they felt the prominent bulge that was on her lower stomach. Taking one of her hands, he made her press down against it.

"Feel that doll? Feel my huge cock deep inside you?"

Y/N whimpered loudly as he spoke and as he sped his movements up. Yunho couldn't help the teasing giggle that escaped his lips.

"You always were my tiny little doll...so small and fragile, yet always taking my cock like a champ."

His praise made her clench her walls around his thick length, making Yunho temporarily lose the pace he was going at.

"F-fuck doll. Clench around me like that and I might not last any longer."

Always up for testing him, she purposefully clenched harder around him, her eyes looking back at him teasingly. Yunho knew she always loved defying him just to see how far he'll go and he truthfully loved it. That unruly, free spirit in her that manifested itself even in the littlest of things, just made him fall even more for her.

His hand snaked up and wrapped itself around her neck, squeezing lightly for the time being but it was still enough to have her gasping. His other hand, went down to work on her clit, fingers rubbing expertly on it so that it'd have her cumming in a few moments.

"Y-Yunho-" tried saying but he gripped her neck tighter, effectively cutting off what she was going to say.

"Go ahead, cum all over my cock. I want to feel you all over me again. Fuck! I can't wait to fill this pussy up with my cum again. Can you do that for me doll? Hmm? Can you be a good little, tiny doll and cum all over this huge cock of mine?"

Not being able to hold back anymore, Y/N's body shuddered against Yunho's, quivering and spasming as an overwhelming orgasm ripped through her, shouting Yunho's name as if it was a mantra. Yunho let go of her neck, his hands gripping her hips as he fucked himself into his own orgasm, his face buried in the back of her neck as her tight walls milked him out of his cum, some of it already pouring down her inner thighs.

"Shit..." Yunho stammered once he calmed down.

Pulling out of Y/N, he made sure she didn't collapse on the bed, instead he turned her around and helped her to lay down. Her hands rubbed at her lower stomach.

"I'm definitely feeling that tomorrow." She joked, making both of them laugh.

After making sure they were both cleaned up, they ended up just laying down on the bed, holding onto each other, casually talking about everything and nothing.

"Do you remember our first night together?"

Yunho couldn't help but smile fondly at the memory.

"How can I forget? You were so nervous and so adorable." He remembered.

"How was I not supposed to be nervous? You and your size intimidated me."

Yunho laughed at that.

"I know. I remember when you looked down in between my legs and asked 'how is that gonna fit inside me'?"

"Shut up! I was an innocent baby back then." She huffed, her lips forming a small pout.

"You may not be so innocent anymore...but you're still my cute little baby."

Leaning in, he kissed her forehead as he adjusted them into a spooning position, his legs tangling around hers as well. He drew circles around her arm, his head full of thoughts and worries, but he didn't hesitate to say:

"Y/N? Can I ask you something?"

✧═══════•❁❀❁•═══════✧

The whole party was in turmoil. It was already 15 minutes past the time to start the rehearsal and the groom was nowhere to be seen. The bride and her party looked agitated and pissed off, while the groomsmen just looked at each other, trying to decipher what was going on.

"Do you think he got in an accident?" Yeosang immediately thought the worse.

"Don't say those things you idiot. That's how you catch bad luck." Seonghwa told him.

"Superstitious nonsense." Wooyoung shook his head.

Just then, Mingi walked in the room, all eyes immediately upon him since he was the groom's best man. He bowed to everyone before stating:

"Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you all for coming here and attending this rehearsal, I'm sure it took dedication and arrangements on your part to be able to be here...

But I regret to inform you all that there will be no wedding."

A collective gasp was heard from more than half of the attendants. The bride and her parents paled in horror at Mingi's words. Jieun stormed up to him, her pretty features contorted into rage as she confronted Mingi.

"What do you mean Song Mingi? Where is Yunho?"

Mingi merely smirked and turned around, not bothering to stay another minute and ignoring the chaos that was about to ensue in that hall.

"Besides.... I have a friend I promised to join soon."

✧═══════•❁❀❁•═══════✧

The couple stared at the glittering lights of the city as they finished their ice cream bars on the hood of the car. It was almost midnight, but they were far from being tired even though they had only arrived there by plane a few hours ago.

"Is this anything like what you had planned?"

Yunho quickly shook his head.

"Nope. But trust me, I love this way more."

Taking her hand in his, he ran his thumb across the silver band that now adorned the third finger on her left hand.

"And I love you my darling wife."

✧═══════•❁❀❁•═══════✧

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[ducissa-animi]

A Stupid Idea (Au)

Chapter Five

That night, they welcomed little Bendy between blankets, the cradle would come later, for now the baby had to sleep with his parents.

- What was that," said the dice, caressing one of the baby's cheeks, who fell asleep as soon as he was tucked in.

- I don't know, and I don't want to think about it, if he is an angel, everything is over" whispered Devil lying down next to the child and looking at him fixedly, now he was a father, not even he could believe it, suddenly his mind embarked on other subjects, he wondered what this child would do when he grew up, he thought about what things to teach him and when to explain him the whole matter of Heaven, Earth, Limbo and Hell, he only wished that the child would not be scared and assume the power with firmness, being king is not easy, but with some lessons it is enough to be it.

Dicey on the other hand gave a yawn, walking across the room to the outside, the Casino has to close, and as manager it is his duty to close it.

On the other hand, the angel flew as fast as he could, the weather did not appetite his desires to arrive on time, the light only illuminated his path, as his halo connected with Heaven for it to illuminate.

When she arrived, she went to her room along with others of her class, the others saw her exalted and spilling water because of the storm on Earth.

-Alice, what happened? Where were you, don't you see that we have to present ourselves to the boss," said one of her classmates, adjusting his sandals, others turned to see her standing against a wall, she looked as if she had seen a ghost.

-The room was not that big, but it served for a group of 6 angels, as an office for them, this group is in charge of demonic expeditions, they participated in several wars when needed, they go 3 hierarchies below the Archangels, therefore the contact with them was very tenuous.

Among the winged ones, they saw each other in silence to then go to the call of their boss, they mostly served warrior angels, sometimes Michael, which for them, was an honor of the elders, when they left the piece, she ran to a sack of food, which only contains mana, eating about five and throw herself to a desk, grabbed a sheet any, and moistened a pen in sacred ink.

-Sir, I have news for you, AHG! HOW DO YOU WANT TO BE FORMAL IF YOU WRITE THIS WAY!" he crumpled the sheet of paper and pulled another one out of a box, his hand trembling as he had many ideas to accuse Lucifer of at that instant.

Alice really has a screw loose.

She was created 200 years before Christ (200 BC), at her 6 centuries old, she was taken to the fifth troop going to a war, it was her first time in combat, before she did not use to have feelings or persusations, she only obeyed orders.

Since angels created after the war, they do not have the sense to choose what is right or wrong, they can only obey without a drop of decision. She is flawed so to speak.

The war was about a fight against Chimeras, the latter are winged and malformed beings, praised by humans, they are dark beasts with lion and eagle feet, metal covered wings and deadly teeth.

They broke the rules that were proposed by Heaven itself, for this reason, they had to be annihilated.

Several angels fell due to their lack of cunning as such vermin, Alice was a child at that time, she fought quickly with the Chimeras, for her bad luck, one of them penetrated her lower skull with its sting, inserting its poison that fainted her instantly.

Later she was rescued by other troops, she woke up with a human sense...she felt pain, cold and anguish, angels do not feel that besides love and pain.

She opened her eyes thanks to the poison, she realized that she was doing wrong, that exterminating those beasts was wrong, but she could not raise her voice to her superiors, her mind collapsed for a decade, recovering with that sense later.

If God discovered her, the Archangels would exterminate her, because of her new intellect.

Since then she knew how to live with it, she does not obey orders as such, if she sees something is bad, she kills it even if she was not asked to.

- That's it - on her thin lips a damned smile turned, she crumpled those sheets and took out others to announce that she had work to do, she had to go back to earth and kill the baby, son of the antichrist.

She had already killed several beings far superior to her, what did it cost to cut the neck of a child who had just been born, if she brought his corpse, she would have more attention, maybe she would rise in the Hierarchy!

While her group chanted for others, she looked for the globe to go to the exact place on Earth.

By this time, 3 days had passed on Earth.

Meanwhile on this one, it was dusk as usual, Alice descended to an island near Inkwell, when she landed, the first thing she did was to approach the nearest town, she had to look elegant to make her presence in the Casino, something that would make her go unnoticed in the nest of demons.

Dressing elegant, and somewhat old-fashioned was her solution, once ready she headed to the Casino, taking the human form completely without halo, without wings...

Her heels were so refined that as she walked they seemed to sing sounds of beauty.

Her black hair and pale skin stood out among the others, a lady in black and white.

As she arrived at the Casino, the doors opened to her, along with perverted and insolent stares.

"They most likely sensed my halo" Alice excused herself, she didn't want to think they saw her because of her skimpy clothes .

Con un antifaz y unos movimientos ligeros, procedia a pedir un poco de vino, de repente le valía si la miraban, cualquier idiota que se acercara a tocarla recibiría la sorpresa de una cuchilla orgánica en un brazo, bebiendo de la copa, pensó que armar un total revuelo no era una opción, solo vino a matar a Bendy e irse con su cuerpo, nada más.

-Disculpe señor..?

-Solo hable y ya- respondió el frasco de alcohol con un gran pedazo de bigote entre su nariz y labios.

-Sabe algo acerca del recién nacido?- preguntó ansiosa, ya sentía el sabor de ser alagada por otros ángeles por haber asesinado al hijo del Diablo.

-Recién nacido?, no confundió su venir?- sugirió.

-Vaya- susurró molesta, necesitaba informarse sobre el niño, dónde se encontraba, al ver un sillón libre, se acostó sobre el, probablemente para disimular su nerviosismo

-If I didn't have a nose, it would be more comfortable- she said, fed up with that waiting she located the boy's parents at a pool table, that means they left him alone, a smile widened on her face, if her lipstick wasn't so noticeable, it would go unnoticed, carefully she lifted both feet returning to her refined walk, what did it matter, there was the smell of ink in an inkwell to be traced.

With delicate steps and without alerting anyone, she peeked through a door that was half open.

At the back, he saw little Bendy, staring at the ceiling and lying with his little feet covered, apparently sleeping with his eyes open due to his exaggerated expression.

-What a horror," said Alice insolently, since in spite of being an angel, she hates babies with all her heart, the child's eyes turned towards her, widening and looking at her seriously, he didn't make any movement, he didn't make any noise nor did he scream out of fright, it was easier for her since she wouldn't be discovered, she approached slowly taking a lighter out of her pockets, "hello, son of sin, do you want to play with mommy for a while?

-He answered, preparing to let out the scream of his life.

In no time, so it was, the Casino was silent for a few seconds after hearing the baby's scream and Dicey was the first to react to run to the child, when both parents arrived, they only saw Bendy whimpering in his crib with fire under it, some feathers and the window open.

-Oh shit- said Devil, an angel was here and he already knows it, now Heaven will know the identity of his son and that was not good at all, damn it, he repeated himself over and over again taking Bendy out of the crib and trying to tuck him in with some blankets, he saw a basket and thought of something stupid.

That night, Mugman was away since he had received a reply to his letter from Cala Maria, she agreed to his appointment and let her brother take his turn if that equaled 24 hours, the good thing was that the next day would be a weekend, one to rest according to Cuphead.

But to his surprise, while he was cleaning the kitchen, his boss put a basket next to him.

-What the heck is that," he whispered in annoyance, expecting the worst.

-It's Bendy, and you're taking him home," he waved his tail towards the cupboard and pulled out a box.

-Sir, with all due respect, I can't take your damn son to live with us!

-Not even for a raise?

-How much are you offering?

That same night Cups went home earlier than agreed with the shift, with a heavy basket in hands and a blanket covering it, he is usually known for being a crafty guy who loves beer, so people hinted at him seeing the basket he carried with a slight difficulty.

Moments later of choosing he left the basket in his living room, sitting on a nearby couch and watching it from every possible point, now he was to raise a demon, what a great "honor".

He grabbed a notebook and thought about how to explain it to Mugman when he arrived, tell him that now his boss's son was in his care.

-I want to see you," he asked with a frown, seeing Bendy's eyes protrude from the basket, he hid and showed him his thumb, "maybe I can baptize you with another name... Benito, what do you think?-thumbs down in disapproval.

VERSIÓN EN ESPAÑOL

#history #story #a stupid idea au #chapter five #chapter 5 #bendy #cuphead #xd #english

[weirdlittlecorner]

Lin Kuei Hospitality: Cyrax

Notes: nsfw, 18+, comfort

Plot: A little slower, a little more sensual. Because Cyrax is a great character and deserves more attention and love

h/t = hair texture

Tags: @lilliannmac @onesillybeach @icy-spicy

—

The five men stood patiently as they awaited your decision. There was no doubt that any of them would show you a good time, which only made it harder to choose. You pursed your lips as you considered your options. Eventually, your attention shifted to the man in yellow. His dark skin and beautiful hair made him stand out as the most handsome of the men. But funnily enough, it wasn’t just his looks that drew your eyes to him. His demeanor was much different than the others. While he was standing at attention, as disciplined as the rest, there was a small crack in his stone exterior. As if he were in pain, though there was obviously nothing hurting him. That you could see, anyway.

It was almost as if he couldn’t stand being in the others’ vicinity. You wondered what could have happened to warrant such a reaction. This was the first time that you had ever seen any of the warriors up close, so you had nothing to go off of. It was most likely just some petty drama that was common amongst roommates- if they could even be considered as such. It would make the most sense. You, too, had your friends that you loved dearly, but you couldn’t imagine actually living with them every day. Either way, it wasn’t your place to pry.

The Grandmaster cleared his throat impatiently, motioning toward the line of men once more. Clearly wanting you to hasten and pick one so the rest could return to their business. Offering the dark-skinned man a warm smile, you nodded, “Come on, let’s get out of here,”

—

“Thank you for my new buzzsaw. I was able to try it out today; your work is very impressive,” The man, Cyrax, whispered as the two of you made your way through the long corridor to get back to your room. You smiled at the compliment, though that nagging confusion didn’t allow you to fully enjoy his words. His new buzzsaw. The one that had been amongst the new additions to the Grandmaster’s standard request.

What exactly did a clan like the Lin Kuei need all this new technology for? Again, it really wasn’t your business what your clients did with your products. But you couldn’t help but wonder... Whatever was going on, you just hoped that it was at least somewhat ethical.

__

The impending ‘improvements’ were a sensitive subject amongst the warriors. Cyrax had taken the most offense to the idea, as any normal person would, yet his fellow assassins thought that he was the crazy one. No, what was crazy was forcing one to give up their free will in exchange for the efficiency of automation. But he didn’t dare challenge the Grandmaster. Doing so would result in the most severe punishment; as if becoming a fusion of flesh and metal wasn’t already punishment enough.

“Hey, I noticed that you kind of… seem at odds with the others. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I just thought I’d ask if you wanted to talk about it,” You broke the silence, sinking down onto the bed and patting the space next to you. He claimed the empty space, sitting close enough so that your knees touched.

By the way his brows knitted together, you half-expected him to tell you. But he merely shook his head after a moment, “I am not at liberty to speak on the matter. But thank you for your concern,” His voice was even and had that same cold quality that was the standard, but you could tell that there was great sadness behind his words.

Instinctively, you opened your arms out to him, willing him to position himself in between them. You weren’t really sure what you had expected to happen, but soon enough, Cyrax was locked in your warm embrace. You gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, basking in the silent comfort of each other’s embrace. But soon you felt his shoulders stiffen, along with a kiss being pressed to the base of your neck.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” While you had been excited for tonight’s proposed activities, now was obviously not a great time. You wouldn’t ask him to perform for you just because it was what the Grandmaster had ordered. He needed, deserved, a break. And while you would certainly enjoy the contact, you refused to degrade the man. But he clearly didn’t think the same way. Not when his face was still buried in the crook of your neck.

“I understand that. This is something I want to do,” His words made you shiver as renewed excitement tore through your abdomen. Well, in that case…

A rough hand quickly found its way into your h/t, h/c locks, effectively undoing the delicate hairstyle. A pleasured shiver wracked your body as he used your hair to bring you closer to him as you two shared your first kiss of the night. You hummed as the tip of your tongue darted out to drag itself across his bottom lip, granting you an elicit moan in return.

Without breaking the intense oral lock, Cyrax’ hands freed themselves from the mess of hair in favor of untying the knots in your overshirt. You moved your dominant hand to assist him in the process while your other hand remained cupping his face. Shrugging to remove the fabric from your shoulders, you reluctantly pulled away to unclasp your bra. Seeing that you had things under control, Cyrax removed himself to focus on shedding his own clothing. But not before giving a hard, playful tug on the hems of your pants, effectively pooling them around your ankles.

A giggle slipped past your parted lips as you bent down, yanking your pants, along with your panties, off the rest of the way and kicking off your boots. You repositioned yourself so that your knees pressed against the soft sheets as you returned the favor to your partner. Eager fingertips clawed at the form-fitting armor, as if that would make it disappear faster. Cyrax hummed in amusement at your eagerness before unbuttoning the clasps and untying the knots for you. Impatience turned into wonder as your hands brushed over his chest. His abs. His shoulders. All of which were hard bands of muscle, but also soft in a way. Even his body reflected the gentle demeanor that had separated him from the others. The two of you were content to sit just like this, fingers exploring each other’s bodies.

You embraced each other, much like how you had done previously. Though this time, the intention was very different. The warmth radiating off of the two of you was almost unbearable, but you ignored it as you took to kissing each one of his prominent muscles. He sighed softly, enjoying your impromptu muscle worship. This continued until the pooling heat in your respective pelvises won out and you just had to go further. Cyrax shifted so that his legs boxed in your hips. Pressing himself against you once more, he brought his lips down to your manubrium to plant soft kisses in the crevice of your breasts. Meanwhile, his right hand was making quick work of his pants and boxers, his hard length pressing against your inner thigh. Which, if you might add, was already slick with your dripping arousal.

There was obviously no need to pregame, as you were both more than ready. You didn’t think that you could tolerate more teasing, anyway. Impatient once again, you wrapped your hand around the head of his penis to guide him in. The man groaned as your walls began compressing his cock immediately. With a few more pushes, he was completely in, reveling in the feeling of being consumed by your flesh.

Sighing, your arms found their way around his broad shoulders as he began thrusting into your tight core. The sounds of your mutual pleasure were only slightly louder than the creaking sounds the bedposts made as they scratched the wall behind them. Your e/c eyes closed in bliss as you enjoyed the rocking sensation of intercourse. His lips found yours once more as his speed increased and his hands made their way to your s/c legs. In a fluid motion, your ankles were craned toward the headboard as he pushed himself deeper. The sensation of your cervix being stroked caused you to scream, and you were glad that no one could hear you. You hoped not, anyway. What were once your gentle fingertips rubbing your lover’s back turned into talons that began clawing at the tingling flesh.

If it had hurt, he didn’t complain. But despite your muddled concerns, the feeling of you scratching his back only enhanced the warrior’s experience. He grunted each time your hips met, feeling his climax approaching. And you were right there with him, your smaller body trembling as the familiar knot twisted in your stomach. It kept building, and building until the knot finally uncoiled itself with a burst of wet heat. It felt as if the sun had just imploded inside of you and that you should be a pile of ash. But you were whole, despite the thick dick that was still stretching your pussy relentlessly.

Your screaming had grown impossibly louder as the warrior continued to batter your walls in anticipation of his own orgasm. What seemed like endless abuse to your cervix abruptly ended when you felt a spray of liquid spattering against the muscle. Your lover grunted, his brown eyes screwed shut and his bottom lip bleeding from his teeth cutting through the skin, as he hosed your insides with his warm semen.

Despite having finished, Cyrax made no move to pull out. Rather, he chose to rest over top of you, his cock warm inside your trembling hole. You allowed it.

There were no words. Maybe when you could think clearly again, you would be able to find your voice. It might be a little hoarse, to accompany the ache that would surely be present when you tried to walk in the morning, but that sounded like just that: a morning problem.

#cyrax #mk cyrax #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #cyrax x reader #lin kuei

[blogsanscontext]

A Closer Look at: Momoe Sawaki’s character arc; by a nonbinary (trans) viewer.

CW: Major spoilers for Wonder Egg Priority + mentions and discussion of sexual assault, transphobia, lesbophobia, self-harm; please proceed with caution.

Wonder Egg Priority came as a relatively pleasant surprise for me; I heard about it some time after the first few episodes aired, but I never actively went out of my way to ever try to watch it myself until, that is, a few days ago. I must say, I’m glad to have taken the initiative to experience such anime on my own.

With a stunning animation to accompany the heavy subjects this work touches on, I quickly fell in love with it; all the characters feel very grounded in reality, with their struggles (even someone like Neiru’s, who is a literal genius and CEO of her own company) feeling relatable in one way or another. Episode 7 became my favorite due to this very thing, Rika’s problems were things that not only have I seen in other works before, but that I know exist because of the stories told in the news every so often. It only helped, in my opinion, that they gave a character with her background such a hopeful ending.

That being said, Wonder Egg is not a perfect anime, and though I didn’t expect it to be in the first place, I do think talking about why some of the ways it handles a specific character of the main cast are problematic are worth the time. When I mentioned that “all the characters feel very grounded in reality”, I actually only meant three of them, a.k.a.: Ai, Rika and Neiru. The reason Momoe is not included in this group is what I will be discussing in the next paragraphs.

This anime lets you know, right off the bat, that it will not stray away from heavy subjects throughout the duration of its runtime; the show deals with suicidal idealization (and actual suicide as well as its aftermath; in fact, “female suicide” is at the very core of the show and is what essentially moves it forward), self-harm, sexual assault, same-sex relationships, transphobia, and being a gender noncomforming person in a society that punishes you for not adhering to the roles it has imposed on you since childhood. The last points are the ones I took issue with, however, and though they are mostly the show’s fault, they also took it upon themselves to make Momoe be at the center of all three.

See, when we are first introduced to Momoe, we can guess by context that she is a girl, however, the other characters aren’t aware of this fact yet, and so they seemingly go out of their way to call her a boy, which makes her deeply uncomfortable, and this (ie. her reaction to be treated or perceived as a boy) is a running theme throughout her arc. This, in itself, isn’t really the worst creative direction to take with a character, it’s a story that has been told time and time again, but there is a problem with the way Wonder Egg Priority specifically deals with it: Momoe is cisgender, and so far, there hasn’t been a sign of this changing whatsoever, so she will most likely remain cis until the show ends. Normally, a story about a gender noncomforming cis person wouldn’t be seen as anything out of the extraordinary, as I’ve mentioned before, but it seems that they wanted to… “innovate”, so to say, with her character. And it’s this innovation, in my opinion, that which makes Momoe’s struggles miss the mark for me.

Momoe is perceived, almost ridiculously so, as a boy by whoever even so much as stumbles upon her; her followers on Instagram most likely worship her because they’re under the impression that she’s a bishounen, and yet the show goes out of its way to deal with just how uncomfortable this makes her. This is the issue I take with her and her arc: the show has a keen awareness of AFAB people’s issues, and treats them with the respect they deserve (which is not to say some jokes at their expense aren’t made, but in general this tone is kept throughout the duration of the story), and yet the tone-deaf manner in which they deal with her issues feels… disappointing, to say the least.

Momoe’s struggles, though they are valid on their own, are not a societal issue, no matter how one may look at them; if she were a trans person (either a trans girl, boy, or nonbinary), the strong emphasis on her discomfort at being misgendered would have made so much more sense. The reason why ‘switching around’ the stereotype of a tomboy falls flat on its face is that there is no real pressure from society to present feminine, it’s what they want you to, or more accurately, force you to do if you’re perceived as being assigned female at birth; however, this is not where my issues with Momoe’s arc and character end.

At first, I imagined a variety of (albeit vague, still reasonable) reasons as to why this show couldn’t have just made Momoe be trans, and semi-understanding of this decision; that was, of course, until I watched the actual episode mostly focused on her struggles, and that’s when I got slightly mad. Being honest, I still think it was a good episode, and it definitely made Momoe seem way more sympathetic than any of her past appearances, but it also perfectly highlighted my problem with her, and subsequently, the show itself: using queer people’s actual, realistic, problems in order to push her, a cisgender character, forward.

The thing with Wonder Egg Priority is that I love how, despite all these girls literally risking their lives to save a specific person, they still seem to have conflicting feelings about them (ie. Rika’s mocking of Chiemi, Ai’s frustration towards Koito, etc.) but I also take issue with this when it comes to Momoe specifically; Haruka is very much intended to be seen as gay, yet when push comes to shove, we are supposed to be taking Momoe’s side in this conflict. We, the audience, see these events from her point of view, and are therefore made to feel, in one way or another, uncomfortable with Haruka’s attraction for her. Yes, Momoe has worked hard to bring her back to life, but the fact that she’s cis and heterosexual stands; this isn’t just exclusive to Haruka, however, but every egg she’s had to save in order to get her friend back. All of them express a clear attraction for Momoe, “despite her being a girl”, and it’s just very easy to read these attitudes as wlw-phobic, extremely so.

My biggest issue though lies within the very existence of Kaoru’s character, the trans boy she has to protect in the episode mainly focused on her; while he is an endearing and sympathetic character, and I like that despite him presenting ‘majorly female’, Momoe never misgenders him. The thing is: he’s made out to be almost a “parallel” of her own gender-related issues, and this is just a very tone-deaf statement to make; trans people fighting not to be misgendered, fighting to be called their chosen name (something Momoe, while being cis, can just freely enjoy) - trans people’s pain is very much real, which the show is aware of, but Momoe’s is very much an individual’s problem rather than the way society actually works, which Wonder Egg is seemingly unaware of, for whatever reason.

Before I arrive at my last point on why this comparison doesn’t work, I would like to quickly point out the fact that most, if not all, the eggs the girls have had to save until this point were specifically meant to be girls, in one way or another. Therefore, taking this into account, Kaoru makes me feel… a lot of things, the more time I spend thinking about it; the show acknowledges he’s a boy, though not cis of course, but still very much a boy, yet also places him in this very much ‘female’ space; no matter how I looked at it, I could find explanations both for an opinion in favor of this decision (the way a lot of trans men’s problems are defined by our patriarchal society seeing them as women) as well as some for an opinion against this decision (the fact that it could be read as the show ultimately deciding he’s ‘female-aligned’, etc.) and though I won’t be discussing this decision in-depth, I still possess that it’s an event worth examining from different lenses.

Now, onto the actual element that got me heated about Kaoru serving as a parallel to Momoe’s struggles: Kaoru was not only sexually assaulted by a man who’s always thought of him as a ‘pretty, delicate girl’, his death directly relates to the fact that he was abused and then impregnated by this man for not living up to his gross ideal of what a man and a woman are; contrast this to Momoe, who pretty much gets the treatment Kaoru would love to have: she’s pretty much right off the bat seen as a guy, she’s fawned over by women because of this fact as well, they literally call her ‘Momotaro’, etc. Taking all of this into account, it’s simply impossible for me to be okay with a comparison that ultimately decides a cisgender person’s discomfort is, in any sort of way, on equal grounds as a (might I remind you, dead) trans person’s basic human rights.

All in all, though her episode made me take a bigger liking to her character, it also served to almost perfectly highlight the very problem of her existence, as well as the “struggles” she’s intended to represent; I don’t hate Momoe in any sort of way, and though I know there must be someone somewhere who relates to her, I also think that they could’ve done something way more meaningful with her had they just made some changes that made her more realistic (as in, make her at least be LGBT rather than just cis and heterosexual); I will be patiently waiting for the finale, and who knows? Maybe something does change about her in the end, that would be even more of a pleasant surprise.

#wonder egg priority #meta #momoe sawaki

[ampleappleamble]

This is a long one.

Content warning: Mentions of child abuse.

—

Axa looked at Aloth sitting on the animancer's couch and wondered if, in bringing him here, she had made a mistake.

He looked utterly miserable: copper bands fastened just a little too tightly around his forehead and his wrists, too wound up with inner tension to even wipe away the bead of sweat slowly crawling down his temple, and Bellasege's cheerful, energetic demeanor as she bustled about setting up her equipment only served to further accentuate his misery. Kana and Pallegina paid more attention to the animancer than to their own traveling companion, inquiring about the procedure and the tools used in performing it regardless of Aloth's obvious discomfort, while Sagani and Edér fumbled awkwardly in their misguided attempts to distract him with jokes and platitudes. Overall, the room had an atmosphere suggestive of the future site of a terrible accident that, later, everyone present would claim they could never have seen coming.

Everyone but the victim.

Aloth's gaze met Axa's, silvery-blue eyes pleading silently, and she gave him the warmest, most comforting smile she could muster. "It'll be alright, Aloth," she reassured him gently. "We're all here with you."

Edér puffed on his pipe, bathing the elf in thick, odorous smoke while Sagani dabbed at his clammy brow with a scrap of cloth, her fox sniffing delicately at his boots. Kana ignored him in favor of examining the animancer's complex equipment, while Pallegina stood by the door, coolly observing the scene.

"Marvelous," Aloth muttered.

"Alright, gliente, we are ready now to begin!" The primary instrument Bellasege intended to use rather resembled a telescope, albeit one that bristled with gears and thick bundles of copper wiring, fixed into a tripod and focused on Aloth's midsection. The animancer peered into it eagerly, adjusting knobs and tilting it just so, all eyes in the room nervously darting between her and her subject, waiting for something to happen.

"First," she continued, "we must evoke this other presence in your soul, entice it into showing itself. And to do that, we must agitate your humors– stir up your essence, ac?" She poked her head out from behind the scope, beaming at him. "So! You will answer some personal questions so as to facilitate the emotional response necessary to draw out your inner turmoil."

Everyone's eyes widened as they turned toward Aloth, their eyebrows jumping up their respective foreheads. "Don't worry, dear," Sagani smiled, wincing as she patted his elbow. "We won't hear any of it, I'm sure." He did not look at her, and Bellasege waved her hand impatiently at the dwarf until she backed away from the couch.

Focusing again on the eyepiece of her scope, Bellasege pressed on. "Please state your full name, your species and stock, sex, age, date and place of birth. For the record."

He sighed. "I'm... I am Aloth Corfiser, Sceltrfolc, male, 62 years of age, born on the 9th of Préauton, 2760 AI, in the Cythwood, in the Aedyr Empire." He started off strong enough, but by the end his voice was wavering, his gaze flitting uncomfortably around the room, not quite able to stay on any one spot for too long.

"And at what time in your life did you first Awaken, Fentre Corfiser?" She somehow managed to take notes with one hand and fiddle with her scope with the other, her script messy and slanting severely to one side due to looking through her lenses instead of at what she was writing. "It is 'Fentre', ac?"

He glanced at Pallegina. "Is it?"

"It is," the paladin asserted. "Unless you are keeping a marriage secret from us, too. In which case, you would be properly addressed as Mestre Corfiser."

"Fentre it is, then," he sighed. "And to answer your question, I... I first Awakened when I was still very young, only fifteen or... thereabouts."

"Fractured at... the very cusp... of adolescence..." Bellasege made a quick mark in her notes, frowned, squinted harder into her scope. "...And what were your early years like, Fentre? Were you a healthy infant? A difficult child? Was your family splintered, abusive, impoverished, stricken with madness or malady?"

"I don't– I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, frustration slowly coloring his pale cheeks. "I had a perfectly ordinary childhood. Nondescript, uneventful. What sort of a question is that to ask someone?"

Edér grinned. "The sort one asks a man who talks to a lady in his head, I'd reckon."

Axa glared at the farmer, stepping away from him and closer to the couch. "Not helping, Edér."

Judging from Aloth's reluctance in coming here in the first place, she figured they probably only had one chance at this, and he was never going to get anywhere if he couldn't relax and focus enough to be honest about himself. So she approached him until he was within arm's length of her, lowering her head to look into his face until he returned her gaze. "Here, Aloth: Try telling her about your parents. Your mother, your father. What's the first thing that comes to mind when you remember growing up with them?"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Axa became aware of something odd stirring within her. It wasn't physical, it wasn't mental, it wasn't exactly emotional although it was closer to that than to anything else she could ascribe it to. The feeling reminded her of her final moments with Maerwald, how after she'd landed the killing blow and the old man's soul had seeped up and out of his physical body, she had been able to reach out to it somehow, to communicate her will to it and help it pass out of this world, away from Caed Nua and off to the Beyond. Aloth's soul was in no way preparing to do the same, but at the moment it was more... open to her, despite not consciously using her abilities as a Watcher, and she could see it in a way she ordinarily couldn't– and if she tried, she found she could very subtly influence it, too.

His soul was dark and stormy, a thousand thousand writhing violet wires all coiled and snarled around one another, but as Axa spoke her voice resonated within her like the toll of a bell, waves of calm emanating out from her to roll over the turbulent sea inside him, and she watched as the wisps of essence at the edges of his soul smoothed themselves, began to pulse gently in unison. Her eyes were still locked with his, and she dimly perceived his pupils dilating, his eyelids drooping as his soul untangled itself and allowed him to give voice to his thoughts at last.

"My mother," he murmured softly. "My mother is... away. She's usually away, tending to her duties with her thayn. But when we're together, when she's home, she's good to me." The muscles under his eyes and at the corners of his mouth tensed up, and his breath hitched in his throat. "I... I miss her. But that's what brings in most of the money for the household. Her haemneg to her thayn. So she's away, often."

Bellasege gasped. "I'm starting to see something," she whispered.

"My father... hates this. Hates that it's her, her and her other man, who are supporting his family despite his hard work and dedication to his erl. He... he drinks to escape that pain. In great quantity, and often. As often as she is away, but sometimes even when she's home." Aloth narrowed his eyes, lip curling into a scowl. "And he takes out on us what pain he cannot escape in drink. He... hurts her when she's home. Hurts me when she's not."

"Keep him talking," Bellasege hissed excitedly, twiddling a knob.

Axa could still feel the calm emanating from her, great waves flowing over to his soul on the tides of her voice, entrancing him. They echoed back to her too, it seemed, snippets of feeling and memory riding back on their wake– a man's voice booming through austere halls, fear and anger that was not hers churning her guts. "He hurt you the day you were Awakened, too, didn't he?"

"She was home," he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "I should have been alright. She should have kept me safe. She was home, but he was sodden with it, and I–"

"Slow down," Axa murmured. "What happened exactly?"

"I– I was home, tending to my chores, sweeping the kitchen. Thinking about my training. I tried so hard, I always tried hard, but– but I was so terrified of failure that I couldn't focus, so my missiles weren't manifesting the way they should have. My flame shields were weak, unstable. Like me. And he must have heard about it." Aloth clenched his jaw tightly, his hands balled into fists, and Axa could feel something bubbling up within him, something in his soul raging and frothing up just beneath the surface. "I was sweeping the kitchen floor, and then– then I was sprawled across it, my blood was spattered across it, and I barely had time to think that now I'd have to clean it again before he–"

–can't even do that right, can you–

The disturbance in the depths of his soul spiked suddenly, making the tang of fresh blood and boot polish fill Axa's mouth and sinuses, the memory of his father's voice driving nausea and dread to rise up inside her like a malevolent fog. Aloth started to curl in on himself, drawing his knees up, hunching his shoulders.

–give me the respect I'm due if I have to wring it out of your worthless throat–

Aloth's voice was reduced to an agonized whimper. "It was then the beating truly began. I tried to protect myself, but if I shielded my front, he'd go for my kidneys, and if I rolled onto my back, he'd kick my ribs, stomp my belly. It was useless–"

–useless little shit, not even mine, is he, you whore–

"–useless. I was trapped, and he was... I thought he was going to kill me. So I... I did the only thing I could, and I... escaped in my mind. I took myself away from him, left my body on the kitchen floor, and I shrunk back into myself where he couldn't hurt me anymore. Where he could never hurt me again. And I... sh-she..." Aloth went silent, and his eyes whipped around rapidly beneath his eyelids, his fingers twitching and his jaw clenched so tightly Axa could hear his teeth grinding together. His soul thrashed and seethed, and Axa drew back instinctively, as though turning away from spitting grease.

"Madiccho, I'm losing it!" Bellasege bared her teeth as she furiously twisted her knobs, apparently to no avail. "He's managed to mesmerize himself somehow! His essence is all over the place. Tella, you've got to snap him out of it, quickly, per complanca!"

–stop it please stop he's our son our boy o gods you'll kill him you'll–

"Aloth–" Her heart leapt up into her throat, and before she could stop herself, Axa was reaching out to take his hand, holding it tightly between her own, desperately trying to bring him back to the here and now. "Aloth! Listen to me, you're alright, it's just a bad memory!"

For a second, it seemed to be working– his eyes stayed shut, but his breathing slowed, his shaking subsided, even his soul seemed to cool and congeal a bit, settling back into a more stable state. She squeezed his hand gently, her fingertips pressed to his palm, her thumb drifting over his knuckles. And after a moment, his fingers flexed weakly, tentatively gripping her hand in return. Something in her stomach fluttered, and warmth bloomed across her cheeks. "...It's alright. You're here now, and I'm here with you. You're safe–"

–it's over now, dear heart, you're safe, he's gone–

And with that, Aloth's eyes flew open, and very suddenly his soul violently rejected Axa's presence, severing her influence over it like slamming a door in her face. She jerked back in shock, his hand slipping from her grasp, and he dug his fingers into the meat of his thighs, knuckles white with tension as he glowered at the little woman.

"The lad's nere safe when I hap' upon him." His voice was low and husky and dangerous.

Axa blinked, looking at Aloth's eyes and seeing a stranger. "...Iselmyr?"

"Am damn sure nae yer Aloth, lass. Or could ye nae tell?" He smirked– no, she smirked, using his face, and a second later he winced, gasping and writhing as he struggled for control.

A cry of elation rang out from behind the scope. "Yes! At last! There it is: the anomaly in his soul, clear as crystal!" Bellasege jabbed at her parchment with her quill, consumed with what she saw through the polished adra lenses. "Fascinating! Please, Tella Mala, you must get it– get her– to engage with you further. This data is truly astonishing!" Even Kana looked mildly disturbed by the woman's enthusiasm for knowledge at the expense of Aloth's suffering, and he turned wide-eyed to Axa, grimacing distastefully.

She tried not to think about it. This was more for Aloth than Bellasege– much more– and though it was difficult for him, he'd be better off after all was said and done. "Iselmyr, what exactly brought you out in Aloth? Why did you feel you had to intervene?"

"Fer why'd ye think, ye wee daftie?" Iselmyr curled Aloth's lip into a snarl, glaring at Axa with barely contained rage. "The lad tellt ye whit his da were oop tae. When ye can hear naught but yer bones crackin' 'n' yer blood roarin' in yer heed, when crisis is nigh 'n' it's yer neck oan th' block– d'ye jess lie back 'n' let 'em snuff ye?"

Edér's pipe almost tumbled from his mouth, hanging agape with wonder. "Did anyone understand... uh, most of that?"

"Try to get them to talk to one another," Bellasege suggested, ignoring Edér entirely. "Interacting with outside influences is good, but interacting with each other ought to reveal exactly where one ends and the other begins."

"Can you do that?" Sagani knitted her brow, concern shining in her dark eyes as she studied Aloth. "And even if you can, is it a good idea?"

Axa leaned close again, carefully laying her hand on the elf's shoulder. "Aloth, can you hear me? Can you speak with Iselmyr? Ask her what she's trying to do?"

He groaned in frustration, planted his elbows on his knees and his temples between his fists. "What she's doing?" he snapped. "She's ruining my life, that– that damnable, stubborn–" He panted for breath, struggling against her, face red and veins throbbing in his brow. "Sticking weed–" he managed. "Worming parasite–"

And then he threw his head back, cackling, tossing Axa's hand from his shoulder as he did. "Fye, ye'd say th' same to yer wee kindled twig when it faws limp in yer haund!"

"Oof," Edér chuckled, shifting uncomfortably. "Guess that would be a pretty common problem for a fella, knowin' some lady's in his body, judgin' him the whole time he's tryin' to–"

"Not helping, Edér." Sagani echoed Axa's earlier sentiment, taking the man by the elbow and steering him away from the couch, Itumaak nipping helpfully at his heels.

"This presence in him, it... it's as though it pools in the recesses he's made in himself, it ebbs where he flows." Bellasege wobbled the scope to and fro, peering into it all the while. "Whether you meant to or not, Fentre, you've carved out quite the spacious little home for your other half!"

"That's ludicrous," Aloth hissed, outrage and humiliation burning his cheeks. "I give her nothing; she takes without asking, usurps me–"

"I only takes whit I need to keep us ou' th' scupper!" Iselmyr interrupted, baring Aloth's teeth, spittle flying from his lip. "An' I dinnae take wi'out givin', ken?"

Aloth blinked, then scoffed derisively. "What have you ever given me aside from trouble, you wretched bumpkin?" The back-and-forth was dizzying, but Axa was somehow managing to keep up.

"Fye, have lent ye a pair o' baws mair times 'n I can count," Iselmyr snapped. She turned Aloth's gaze on Axa again, his eyes wild and fierce with her behind them. "G'wan, Watcher-lass. Ask 'im whit I dae fer us. How last time that auld bastard da o' his lay his haund on us, I brek it in three feckin' places."

The triumphant grin Iselmyr had forced onto Aloth's face was replaced with an agonized grimace as he wrested control back yet again. "You had no right! That decision wasn't yours to make, nothing in my life was ever supposed to be your decision to make!"

"And Awakenin' in a wee scrawny jessie li' ye were nae my decision neither! But am here fer th' duration, an' am nae jess gonnae lie doon 'n' let ye get us both dragged behin' th' wagon!" This, it seemed, was Iselmyr's final word on the matter, and at last she once again fell dormant, relinquishing the reins of Aloth's body back to him. He sat for a moment, trembling and sweating and catching his breath, his ragged panting the only sound in the tiny, stuffy room.

The drunks outside the Black Hound, the cult in the catacombs, his father's vicious assault– it was all clicking into place. Whenever the meek, mild Aloth was threatened or overwhelmed, the bold, brash Iselmyr sprang forward to take care of it in his stead, although it seemed she also got him into as much trouble as she got him out of. Iselmyr was just as fiery in her defense of herself as Aloth was in his condemnation of her, but the more she thought about it, the more Axa couldn't help but think Iselmyr was trying, in her way, to defend him, too.

"Belfetto," Bellasege chirped, breaking the silence as she bounded out from behind her scope. "Excellent work, gliente! I think I have more than enough to work with here." She whipped her sheaf of notes out theatrically in front of her, her eyes scanning back and forth over them as she spoke, jotting down corrections and addendums here and there. "The second presence in the subject's soul– Iselmyr, as she calls herself– manifested most intensely during the, ah, more heated portions of their discussion. Her essence coalesced in its greatest quantities here–" she thrust her quill at Aloth's chest– "in his left ribcage, near his spleen. Therefore, she is obviously triggered by the production of black bile in the spleen, no doubt due to the profoundly melancholic nature of the subject." Bellasege beamed with pride at her diagnosis. The rest of the room's occupants stared at Bellasege with incredulity, exchanged worried looks with one another.

"Then by your... uh, logic," Kana ventured dubiously, "removing his spleen should... cure him?"

Aloth glared at the woman, eyes wide with disbelief at what he was hearing. "That... is utter horseshit," he spat, and Axa couldn't quite tell which of his body's occupants had used his mouth to say it.

Pallegina snorted. "That's one way to put it."

Bellasege's demeanor flipped in an instant. "Well! I'm certain you know exactly what's going on, then, given my extensive training in the animantic sciences and your having come to me for help. So do tell, Fentre: what is your theory?"

"I– You're seriously telling me to diagnose myself? Why did we even come here if you're only going to spout nonsense?" Aloth sounded more panicked than angry, and he turned to Axa in desperation, silently imploring her.

And she obliged, stepping between the injured animancer and her insulted subject. "If I may? I think, perhaps, you're closer to the truth than my friend is willing to admit, Bellasege." The animancer raised an eyebrow, gesturing for Axa to continue even as Aloth huffed indignantly behind her. "You were onto something when you suggested an emotional trigger for Iselmyr's usurpations, but from my experiences traveling alongside him and his retelling of his personal history– including the very illuminating account we've all just heard– I'd posit that Iselmyr tends to emerge when Aloth is in danger."

She half expected an argument, but both Bellasege and Aloth remained quiet instead, considering her words. "I... suppose that theory could hold some merit," Bellasege murmured after a beat. "You do know him better than I. However, I'll have to cross-reference it with other research, of course."

That seemed to shake Aloth out of his reverie, and he nervously began picking at the copper bands on his wrists. "That's all well and good for you, but I've waited fifty years for some answers. Can't you tell me anything now?"

"Aloth, this isn't the first time you and Iselmyr have spoken like this, is it?" Axa spoke softly, carefully. She had an idea, but she needed to ease him into it or he'd reject it outright.

Difficult, isn't he? Remind you of someone? The thought popped into her head as she remembered his hand, warm and trembling in hers, but she pushed it away.

He gave the little woman a guarded look. "Not exactly," he admitted. "I've been forced to be... discreet about her very existence up until now, so whatever disagreements we've had in the past have tended to be resolved quickly, by necessity. Not that it ever did me any good."

"But she has. You told me yourself your father was never violent with you again after Iselmyr gave him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe her methods aren't exactly what you'd choose for yourself, but you can't say she doesn't get results." Axa shrugged and gave him a hopeful little smile. "It might be worth it to... collaborate with her a little more. Let her in, try things her way."

"Yeah," Edér piped up, grinning, "she's alright. And if she starts somethin' you can't finish, you know we've got your back."

Aloth rose from the couch, rubbing his wrists and scoffing at Axa's words. "You wouldn't say that if you'd had to listen to her deranged ranting day and night for the past five decades." He cast a baleful glare at the discarded copper bands on the couch, but when he turned back to her, his face was thoughtful, sincere. "Regardless, this has been... quite an enlightening experience. In many ways. Thank you, Axa." He smiled at her, and her face went warm again.

"Ac, Tella Mala, agracima!" Not one to be ignored, Bellasege slapped her notes down on her desk and strolled over to her scope, preparing to disassemble it. "I'll be sure to make mention of your assistance in my report, send you a copy once it's published. Although unfortunately I will be unable to credit you as a co-author. You understand, of course."

Aloth's head whipped around to face her. "Report? Published?" He looked as though he'd just been sentenced to hang.

"But of course, Fentre Corfiser! This is science, not fun and games." She smiled at him like a cat with a cornered mouse. "You'll be the toast of Revua, rest assured!"

He balked, his face pale and drawn until a familiar crooked grin crawled across it. "Lookit ye there, shimmerin' star o' the soul sciences," Iselmyr quipped. "Jest whit ye've always wanted."

—

#pillars of eternity #poe anthem infinitum #fic wip #cw child abuse #please let me know if i'm not doing that cw tag correctly #hoo boy this one's a doozy #in a good way though #anyway *puts aloth in a soft warm place where no one can ever hurt him again* #thanks for reading ♡

[cafeinthemoon]

Headcanons for Founders trio with an s/o who's a bookworm 📚

I don’t know if this has been done before but I myself am a bookworm and when this idea came, it was funny to imagine how each of the founders would react to having a partner who’s passionate about books

Ps: I’m sorry that I’m not capable of writing a short list of headcanons okay I really try but I can’t sorry

Fandom: Naruto | Founders trio

Symbols: 💗 | ◼ | ▶▶

Hashirama

First of all, I don’t see him as a book lover, but neither he’s book hater. He’s just the average person who can live in peace with the fact that there are books in this world without being too attached or disgusted by them

This is bc he probably has some trauma from reading caused by the huge piles of paper he has to deal in his office (he tries to avoid them by procrastinating and then begs for his brother’s help)

But he has a genuine interest in your passion bc well, he loves you, which means he loves almost everything about you and believes that understanding this hobby is a way to understand you as a person

And bc of that he always goes with you when you say you want to go to the library or the bookstore

Hashirama is the guy who’s capable of getting excited with your enthusiasm though he’s not really into the same stuff as you

So he will have so much fun following you around those corridors and shelves full of books

And will analyze every book cover you show him aka agree with all of your reviews on the covers bc he trusts your capacity of analyzing things

He will also hear when you talk about your favorite plots, characters, writing styles and quotes

If you get indecisive between one book and other you certainly will he will try to help you make up your mind by telling you that “this one’s cover is prettier than the other’s” or “I think this one will have more exciting adventures”

He will be content whether you choose this book or the other, and will laugh if you decide to get them both

Plus: Hashirama is good at spoiling his s/o so he will insist on buying any book you lay your eyes on to the point you’ll have to argue for him to let you pay for your own books

And when it’s time to go home, he will help you with the piles of books you borrowed from the library or bought from your favorite bookstore (with a significative % of discount ofc)

So we can agree that despite not having a great love for books, Hashirama will be the most fun company for a bookworm like you 💕

But this doesn’t extend to the occasions when you recommend something for him to read

He always promises he will read that book soon but you know he’s going to forget that the book exists right after you leave it with him and will only remember it when you ask it back 😐

Tobirama

Now, with this guy things are way different

Bc if you think of yourself as a bookworm, Tobirama says GET READY TO KNOW WHAT REALLY MEANS TO BE A BOOKWORM

Seriously, he has been reading since he can remember. It’s a part of him as much as the shinobi life

He reads absolutely anything. Politics? Yes. History? Ofc. Poetry? Same. Cookbook? He had already gave it a try. And do not let him start with Science 🔍

And he has a prodigious memory for what he reads, so he’s capable of spotting any book he has in his personal library with his eyes closed, so that even if you remember only one quote from the book, he will find it for you

The best part of this is that you can talk about anything about any book bc Tobirama probably has read it and will understand your point, and if he hadn’t read it yet, it’s just a question of time until he adds it to his collection

Or he will make comparisons between this book and others that are similar to it that he already has and that’s what he does to understand the whole point

The connection that comes from this is something unique. Your love for him grows as much as your love for the books you read

But everything has its dark side, and in this case it’s called COMPETITION

I’m sorry to give you such sad news, but Tobirama is that person who can turn the most innocent hobby into a competition if he feels threatened thinks you’re becoming more experienced than him in it. So expect to see him become a bit petty

He will not start a proper fight but you will sense that he’s getting into discussions about trivial details more often. He doesn’t need an invitation: if you say something that he mildly disagrees, he will discuss it until he convinces you of his pov (or you say you give up)

If you’re really into discussions and such, you might enjoy it like a sport. However, if you don’t like conflicts, I feel sorry for you lmao

If it extends for too long, it will become a reason for a serious fight, because he will get to the point of saying that “you need to refine your taste for books a little” or that “you should slow your pace in order to pay more attention to what you’re reading and have a better understanding of the book’s subject”

If things get to this point the only person who will be able to help you to make amends is Hashirama. But I hope it never happens

Now, the biggest advantage of being Tobirama’s s/o and loving books is that you almost never need to buy books, bc he’s the owner of the greatest library in the village (he has all the books you won’t find in the public library)

Ofc you manage to buy some, but you don’t use to do book hauls because you don’t wanna end up broken he always gets the books you want

That doesn’t mean you two don’t spend time out on bookstores and get back home late sometimes ❤

Madara

Can’t believe I couldn’t find that gif of him reading a book with his Sharingan

I don’t know but Madara and books in the same sentence sounds peculiar to me lol

I think his attitude towards books is similar to Hashirama’s in some points, except that he promptly recognizes the importance of books as knowledge and intelectual development’s tools. But in general terms he’s not the most passionate person about them

The thing is that he prefers activities outside the house, that push him to the limits of his body. You know, with this man it is about the PHYSICAL

So things like staying indoors, enjoying a good book doesn’t have appeal to him. You might love it, but to him it sounds a bit tedious

But he respects and admires this preference of yours. It’s good to see his s/o engaging in a healthy and safe activity

Sometimes, when he gets home, he might ask casually what you are reading this time, but this is not to be understood as an invitation to a long talk. He just came home, he’s tired and the last thing he wants is to hear about things in which he’s not quite interested, so it’s better just to say the book’s title or the genre

If he’s in a good mood, he will sit by your side and watch you while you read. Getting close to you and observe what you’re doing is a habit of him no matter what task you’re performing, but seeing you immersed in something you’re passionate about is different

He likes to pay attention to the way your eyes go through the lines, your lips move to repeat the characters’ sentences, your expression changing to follow your emotions and the delicate manners with which your fingers touch the pages

If you stop reading to look at him, he won’t even try to disguise 😁

And if you ask him what is it, he will just smug and continue to stare at you

Observing you is like a hobby to him, it’s his way to get in touch with you

Now, talking about your readings is something complicated when you have a partner like Madara

I believe the best way to talk about books with him is doing it indirectly. For example, instead of saying things like “I’ve read it in a book that if you…”, just say “Maybe it’s just the case that they will…”. Just bring out the idea itself and leave the source aside

He knows that you probably found it in one of your books, but he will not be bothered. Instead, he will praise the fact that your readings turn you into a smart and observing person, with a deep understanding of the world and its people

As you can imagine, going with you to buy books is to him what going with a s/o to buy shoes is to other men. Yes, he is that guy that tries to make you walk in another direction so that you won’t pass in front of a bookstore or the village’s library bc he knows that once you step into these places, you won’t leave so soon

Bc of this you use to go alone to do your book hauls or to ask your friends to go with you. Sometimes you wish you could make Madara change his mind, for you love his company, but you’re ok knowing that it’s not going to happen and try to concentrate on being in good terms with him ❤

#naruto headcanons #founders trio #hashirama #hashirama headcanons #tobirama #tobirama headcanons #madara #madara headcanons #konoha #bookworm #book lover

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

important question that's been bugging me for a while. since hypmic plays in a female powered society.. does that make everything like..our world but reverse? so that guys are more often oppressed and girls are more likely to be predators, taking what happened to hifumi (like men are more likely to us) and stuff like that? (or like if we imagine everything genderbent and apply our society to that) sorry I hope this is not too triggering. love your work!

This is a delicate question. I am going to put my answer below a cut. Topics included: sexual predators, misogyny, assault, kidnapping, the mistreatment of male sexual assault victims

I don’t think that I’m necessarily the best person to answer this or examine this. I’m not educated enough in this particular topic. However, I have tried to give it as much thought and respect as I can.

The Question of Female Predators

This is a very complex topic. Female predators are already not uncommon in the world we live in, so I guess the question of whether there would be more or less female predators depends on what factors contribute to people becoming a predator.

I could be entirely wrong about this, but I think one factor that causes a lot of fear of being preyed upon is the size difference between most AMAB people and AFAB people. Obviously, there are millions of exceptions to this rule, but AMAB people generally tend to be taller, more muscular, and broader than AFAB people. The majority of AMAB people are also men (whereas the majority of AFAB people are women), so on average, an altercation between an untrained man and an untrained woman is not likely to end in the woman’s favor. This isn’t going to change in the world of Hypnosis Mic.

It’s the societal factors that would change. The Center for Hope and Safety says, “A sexual offender generally believes he is better than other people and so does not have to follow the rules that ordinary people do.” This is a stance the Party of Words elevates. The Party constantly practices “othering” and promotes themselves as an elite group. Only they are allowed to enter a certain area. Only they are allowed to write the name of their ward in kanji, whereas every other location must use the foreign-looking katakana. ARB events frequently feature Party members shoving characters around from place to place with no explanation, as questions are not allowed. Only the Party can know what’s going on. Using this as a guideline, I think it’s very possible for predators already within the Party to use this as an excuse for being a predator. “Men are worthless, so I can abuse them.”

You could argue that the Party is founded on the principles of safety for women and non-violence, but the Party is also very hypocritical. Its promises of safety are only for the party itself; it puts on painful gladiator battles to turn a profit and purposefully cause infighting to keep the Party safe. Ramuda even suggests (and I have no reason to disbelieve him) in TDD 12 that they have a stockpile of weapons as well. The Party doesn’t care for anything but itself and staying in power.

So yes, predators within the Party are probably more likely to abuse their power, but would the shift towards a female-dominated society create more female predators? That’s a much harder question to answer. I am not remotely equipped to speak on what causes someone to become a predator. I do, however, think that societal norms can enable predators or foster mindsets of fright against certain groups.

In the world that we live in, it is very possible for men in certain areas to sexually assault or otherwise mistreat a woman and be applauded by their communities. Think of online communities such as “The Red Pill” or “Men Going Their Own Way”. Such communities believe that women deserve this mistreatment, and while these are very extreme examples, this same mindset permeates a lot of global societies. Even on a small scale, a lot of men tend to make casual sexist comments because we were raised with the notion of this being socially appropriate. And there’s the issue - it’s inappropriate, but it’ll continue to be socially appropriate as long as we don’t continue to challenge ourselves, challenge our friends, and raise our children with better standards of accountability and respect. These social changes do not happen in the blink of an eye, and I highly doubt that a single three years with the Party of Words in power would change that.

Similarly, a lot of girls in our societies are taught (both consciously and subconsciously) to defer to their male peers or even to fear men in positions of power. Once again, unlearning this and teaching future generations more positive standards does not happen overnight. I doubt that most women in the Hypmic universe are able to make radical shifts of thinking and acting over the course of three years. Furthermore, I doubt that many men are really taking the Party’s misandristic words to heart. None of the main characters seem particularly bothered by Ichijiku calling them barbarous fools on the regular; it’s an annoyance, sure, but that’s it. We’d have to see the Party in power for a much longer time to witness any large societal changes.

Additionally, the world inside Chuuouku and the world without are quite different. While Chuuouku boasts state-of-the-art architecture and technology, the rest of Japan gets by like normal, if perhaps in a bit shabbier fashion than to be expected for this futuristic world. Men and women seem to still fit into stereotypical gender roles in much the same way that they do today. Doppo’s bosses are all men; the majority of doctors we see are men, and the nurses tend to be women. While some of Jirou’s female classmates seem to be especially assertive, male and female students get along in the same way as we would expect to see in our world. Women are still kidnapped and trafficked by primarily male yakuza. The former military looks to be exclusively made up of men. Progress moves slowly, so I think we can assume that the Japan outside of Chuuouku is approximately our modern Japan.

One of the major issues in examining this topic is that we see so little female-male interaction in regards to sex or romance. Ramuda and Hifumi are the only characters (that I can think of off the top of my head) who have any on-screen sexually/romantically charged interactions with women, but probably because this is a series largely marketed towards women, these interactions never go beyond light, impersonal flirting. To really take a look at how predators and assault may be featured in the Hypmic universe, we would need a much larger sample size. That being said, I’d still like to examine two case studies: Nemu and Hifumi.

Nemu

The two driving forces of Nemu’s character are her rejection of violence and her desire to have personal strength. The first of these is probably rooted in her childhood, from living with an abusive father, witnessing his violent murder, and witnessing the subsequent suicide of her mother. Samatoki doesn’t appear to have any resources for dealing with his own processing of these events, and he turns to violence and emotional outbursts as a way to channel his feelings. This violence continues to wear on Nemu, but she can still withstand it under normal circumstances up until the moment she is kidnapped.

Nemu cites her kidnapping as an example of her weakness, when in reality, it is an exhibition of anything but weakness. She remains calm throughout the entire ordeal, comforts Jirou and Saburou and keeps them hopeful, throws her shoe at Genchou, and offers him to cut her fingers off if that means the others will be spared. Nemu isn’t weak – she is a hero. She is a seventeen year old girl who lost both parents at a young age and has witnessed horrifically traumatic situations, yet she keeps her head during a hostage situation and acts with courage in order to keep everyone else safe.

Nemu calls herself weak not because she thinks she’s weak for anything she did during the situation, but because the situation happened to her in the first place. She is victim blaming herself for violent assault. This isn’t a logical position, but it’s a very understandable position for someone with her background. Unfortunately, Samatoki doesn’t have the knowledge or resources in order to help her process her trauma safely, and his own coping mechanisms only set her off further.

Nemu isn’t mentally weak, but she is very emotionally vulnerable. Even without the Party’s hypnosis, an offer from the Party would be too tantalizing to ignore. They can promise her a world in which suddenly she has the power over everyone else and where violence is not practiced. An offer like this is impossible for her to ignore. Even though the Party are the ones putting her in jeopardy again, they implicitly promise her that she can never be hurt again. For a young, brave, powerful girl holding in so much pain, that promise is everything she’s ever wanted.

As mentioned before, the Party doesn’t care about stopping violence. In fact, it encourages infighting among its civilians. If Nemu were not in an emotionally vulnerable position, she could see that and reject the Party’s offer, but that’s exactly why the Party targets her and not any of her peers. Imagine how many other young girls in similar situations fall prey to the same trap. These girls need healing and positive environments, but they are fed propaganda instead.

Hifumi

I don’t talk about this much because it’s a very uncomfortable subject for me, but the way Hifumi is depicted is a real tragedy.

We don’t know the details of what this particular girl did to Hifumi, but we do know that it continues to impact him over ten years later. We know that Hifumi developed his coping strategy on his own, seemingly without professional help, and that without it, he can’t begin to live even an approximation of a normal life. The illustrations of him encountering a woman show him hiding, cowering with his neck covered, or crying. He looks to be in genuine fear of losing his life. Consider being this afraid of half of the population and how frequently he must encounter women in his daily life: on the street, in the grocery store, on public transportation. Without the jacket, Hifumi’s life is a nightmare.

And yet the canon source material frames it as a joke. The humurous background music in ARB and Hifumi’s exaggerated gestures in the manga show that his fear and discomfort is a punchline. This would definitely not be a funny gag with the genders reversed (a woman sobbing in fear and running away every time she sees a man), so it is a travesty that this is the stance the authors continue to take.

The world we live in is, generally speaking, not kind to its male assault victims. Misogynistic attitudes create an environment in which it is shameful for men to admit that they were assaulted, especially by women. It should not be a punchline when one human being hurts another, and it is wrong and sexist beyond all belief to perpetuate the idea that women can’t be cruel, violent, and manipulative just as much as anyone else can.

I would like to hope that Hifumi’s case isn’t indicative of all Hypmic universe male assault victims, but I don’t think that’s the case. Hifumi definitely has access to mental health resources, considering that his roommate does, but there is no evidence that Hifumi has ever come forward to ask for help about this issue. This is probably a combination of Hifumi’s internal shame and an unsupportive environment. While Doppo does help Hifumi navigate daily life around women, Doppo’s facial expressions suggest he considers the matter a nuisance. He threatens to take away or withhold the suit when Hifumi’s coping method annoys him, and otherwise doesn’t seem to take Hifumi’s distress seriously. Jakurai appears to be more supportive, but he doesn’t ever offer additional help or resources to Hifumi beyond what Hifumi already has. In fact, the majority of Jakurai’s interest in the subject seems to be around examining Hifumi like a case rather than as a person needing assistance.

It’s also probably a result of the faux macho attitudes that are rampant within the Hypmic universe. Hypmic men are bound by a multitude of ridiculous expectations that I always feel like an idiot translating. “Men don’t cry.” “Men don’t get stuck feeling disappointed.” Absolute nonsense. Men can and will do anything, just like any other group of people. It’s far more productive to encourage men to be their best selves, respectful and helpful to themselves and everyone else, than to feed into this sort of behavior which implies the hideously false “men can’t be assaulted”.

This all results in Hifumi living a double life and only being able to remove his façade in the safety of his own apartment or with his two friends. That’s a miserable existence, and while Hifumi appears to be cheerful enough, it’s sickening to see that this is supposed to be comedic.

The Question of Male Oppression

The Party of Words does institute laws to oppress men, but this oppression is fairly ridiculous. Yotsutsuji says that men are taxed at a higher rate than women and that men aren’t allowed into certain areas (such as Chuuouku, I presume). Despite these challenges, the majority of Hypmic universe men seem to lead pretty normal lives. As mentioned above, the professional fields still appear to be dominated by men, and male-on-female violence doesn’t seem much different from how it is in our contemporary world. These laws aren’t making a significant change in male lives, so they must be made to impact women. Yet these are token impacts only, as they don’t in any way actually make the lives for non-Chuuouku women any better. By making this an “us against them” deal, the Party is able to make more women sympathetic to their cause and cause more infighting (thus distracting people from “us against the Party”) without actually having to make positive changes for anyone.

These laws also aren’t the reason why rebel groups exist. Consider the motivations each character gives in TDD 11. Ichirou mentions a lack of central law and regulations making it difficult to keep loved ones safe. The infighting that the Party promotes via its rap battles allows for power-hungry individuals like Mozuku to take over whole areas and instate whatever rules they want, no matter the cost to the citizens. Samatoki is frustrated by being directed to fight when he can’t see a good cause; similarly, Ramuda is concerned about the effects of the fighting on the neighborhoods they pass through. Even with non-lethal weapons, a country in constant conflict is not one in which its citizens can prosper. Jakurai is concerned about inequalities between Chuuouku and the rest of the country. He mentions in FP/M 15 (which we’ll have up in a few days for you to see for yourself) that he’ll use the prize money from winning the DRB to provide medical care for locations that the Party can’t or won’t supply with aid. Later in the chapter, he drives away from the spectacular, futuristic city of Chuuouku back into a Tokyo marked with graffiti and squalor. Even the male citizens don’t care about how they’re treated as compared to their female counterparts; they care that everyone is suffering together under the Party’s poor governing.

The Party has never sought to oppress men and elevate women. The Party’s goal is to elevate itself and oppress everyone else. The gender inequality is as much of a diversionary tactic as the Division Rap Battle.

#not a translation #asks

[josefavomjaaga]

Helfert, Joachim Murat, Chapter 5, Part 4

We’re still not finished with the Bourbon stuff, after their return to Naples.

Otherwise, Naples had nothing but praise for the attitude of the returned royal family. By their very nature, the loyal followers of the royal family who had come with him to the old homeland and those who had remained there, who had been of some value under the foreign rule, who had acquired positions and wealth, constantly had cause for jealousy and friction; "fedeloni" and "murattini" was the name they gave each other, not without a certain ironic flavour. The King and Prince Leopold, however, showed a sincere desire not to make any distinction between the two categories, which became apparent, for example, in the composition of the supreme war college. Both of them behaved condescendingly, even kindly, towards the Murat generals, if there was nothing else to reproach them for, and distinguished some of them. Guglielmo Pepe was very pleasantly surprised at the way in which Leopold, at the first introduction he had with his brother Florestan, behaved towards them, how he spoke of Caroline Murat as "Queen", indulged in eulogies about the Neapolitan army, called on him, Guglielmo, to write a memorandum about the last campaign, which, in order to do justice to the honour of the defeated army, could be printed somewhere in London or Holland. The same was the case with the higher civil officials of the overthrown regiment, who were by no means entirely removed from their posts and replaced by "Fedeloni". However, it was not possible to remain silent about everything that had happened recently, especially in the army. A commission was set up to investigate the conduct and abilities of some 200 officers against whom complaints had been lodged in connection with the last campaign, and also to examine the legality of the most recent promotions and decorations, for which the relevant patents had not yet been issued. But here, too, the sense of justice of Ferdinand and his councillors was revealed, in that he composed this commission under the chairmanship of Guglielmo Pepe from generals and commanders of the disbanded army and gave it instructions that met all the requirements of fairness. Much that was done to promote the internal conditions had an even more favourable effect. A commission headed by Prince Cardito had to place public education from rural schools to universities on a new footing. The charitable institutions, the Monte di Misericordia, the Committee for Public Charity, which were often paralysed as a result of the efforts of the last Murat campaign, were remedied by generous contributions from the King's private coffers. All this had a charitable effect on public traffic. "Our trade", it was said in a Neapolitan correspondence of the "Wiener Zeitung" (No. 267 p. 1059), "receives new life; in our harbour, where it has been quiet for many years, there is a completely different appearance, domestic and foreign ships are constantly leaving and others arriving". A very delicate, even spiteful point was the "donations of goods and revenues granted during the military occupation of Generals Giuseppe Buonaparte and Gioacchino Murat", which, if the royal promises of 1 May and 4 June were interpreted generously, would have been conserved, while the government now claimed that those clauses, on the basis of the Vienna Treaty of 29 April, referred only to the purchase of state estates, not to the gifting of them to mere favourites. Even before the arrival of Prince Jablonovski, Count Saurau, Imperial and Royal Court Commissioner to Bianchi's army, had repeatedly demanded clarifications from the Royal Cabinet on this matter, to which he had not received an answer. Jablonovski followed in Saurau's footsteps, although he did not conceal to himself the fact that it would be hard for the king to accept favours from the two intermediary regents which had been made at the expense of his most loyal supporters. He insisted that at least those donations be respected which Murat had entered in the "great book" and which consequently formed part of the public debt undoubtedly guaranteed by Austria and conceded by Ferdinand, and in this sense a royal resolution of 14 August was indeed passed.

But now came the further question concerning those donations which were not entered in the great book of the public debt and which were consequently subject to royal confiscation.  It seems that Ferdinand wanted to have complete freedom of disposal over them, either to give them to the crown or, as Murat had done before him, to give them away to his followers, whereas the Austrian envoy argued before the king that the property confiscated in this way should revert to those from whom it had been taken by the previous government. Ferdinand was somewhat embarrassed, but finally said: "You are right, I will think it over", and soon afterwards the order was given to the Minister Tommasi to set up a commission to examine the principles laid down by the former feudal committee and to work out a plan for offering some compensation to the old families who had suffered most. The two presidents of the Court of Cassation and Accounts, Prince Sirignano and Marchese Vivenzio, Dr. Giacinto Troysi and Marchese di Vigo, were members of this committee, which soon showed itself anxious to give the royal right of confiscation the widest possible extension. In a memorandum, Vigo tried to prove that monastery estates were not to be regarded as state property, from which it should follow without doubt that the king was not bound by the treaty of 29 April and could therefore confiscate them and dispose of them as he pleased. Jablonovski also resisted this view until he received instructions from Prince Metternich that, once the royal decree of 14 August had become a fact and the Neapolitan government was determined to implement it, he should not interfere any further in the whole matter so as not to expose himself to a final refusal or, in the other case, to have to bear joint responsibility for what might happen next. In the midst of these tasks and conflicts of opinion, which touched so many and so profound interests, stirred up such fierce and ugly passions, came the news of a visit of several weeks which Lord and Lady Bentinck intended to pay to Ferdinand's regained capital. The decrepit Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs was struck with terror, while the news did not ring at all unpleasantly in the ears of reform-minded Medici. The king was on Circello's side and no longer wanted to have anything to do with His Lordship, with whom he had been on such good terms during his last stay in Sicily. One did not have to look far for the reason for this reluctance. Ferdinand had never been a friend of constitutional institutions; after the experiment he had had to undergo in Sicily, they were anathema to him. Since the recent turn of events, however, the noble lord had become the object of other suspicions: he was presumed to be in secret communication with all the free-thinkers of the peninsula, especially with the Carbonari, and to have a hand in all the machinations which emanated from that quarter. For the same reason, Lucian Buonaparte's stay in Rome was a thorn in the side of the Neapolitan cabinet, because they considered him to be one of the heads of the Carbonari, a comrade-in-arms of Bentinck, and were convinced that he would be encouraged and supported by the latter. Austria had to promise his best services to obtain Lucian's removal from Rome and to arrange another place for him to stay. In Naples, they did not dare to appeal directly to the papal chair, since they were, as it seems, on no better terms with it than they had been under Joachim Murat.

Inserted footnote (pointless, but kinda funny):

But the Viennese Cabinet and its representative in Rome also had their incessant frictions with the Curia, as can be seen from a highly piquant passage in Jablonovski's dispatch of 12 July: "Å Rome je suis descendu chez le Chevalier de Lebzeltern que j'ai trouvé tourmenté par la fièvre et par le Cardinal Consalvi, je ne sais lequel des deux maux lui paraissait plus facile à supporter. J'ai appris à mon arrivée ici qu'il avait été soulagé, et que le Comte de Saurau avait tâché de calmer le courroux et d'assouvir l'insatiabilité du Ministre de Sa Sainteté". It was probably the Cardinal's stubborn insistence that the principalities of Benevento and Pontecorvo of Naples be handed over to the Papal States that is alluded to here.

The French passage in English: »In Rome I stayed with the Chevalier de Lebzeltern, whom I found tormented by fever and by Cardinal Consalvi, I do not know which of the two evils he found easier to bear. I learned on my arrival here that he had been relieved, and that the Count of Saurau had tried to calm the wrath and to satisfy the insatiability of His Holiness' Minister.«

One might argue that if the new government did not get along any better with their neighbours than the old one had, they might have just kept Murat.

Even in the delicate Bentinck question, our envoy was taken into confidence. Jablonovski advised Minister Circello to write a very kind letter to Florence, where Lord William was staying at the time, describing the immense joy the King would feel at seeing him again, i.e. at any other time, but not now "when the evil-minded might take advantage of his presence and use his name for the scattering and spreading of opinions which it would be impossible to tolerate". The letter, however, did not meet Bentinck either at the right time or in the right mood. His lordship, never accustomed to be disturbed in his intentions by foreign objections, gave nothing to Circello's chosen phrases and dropped anchor on the quay at Naples on one of the last days of September. Now danger was imminent and Count Nugent, being half Bentinck's compatriot, took the risk of convincing the noble lord that the air was more favourable for him anywhere than here between the sea and Mount Vesuvius. After two hours of negotiation, an agreement was reached: Lord William would not set foot on land, but his lady would stay in Naples until arrangements had been made for her accommodation in Rome.

Jablonovski hurried to Circello with the good news. The Marchese was about to sit down to dinner without having any sense of its pleasures, for he looked very dejected and thought that the British troublemaker might enter at any moment. Then the Austrian envoy arrived and Circello now knew no end to his joy and expressions of gratitude. An express messenger was immediately dispatched to Caserta, from where Ferdinand wrote back the next morning: "I recognise Prince Jablonovski in this! Thank him in my name and tell him that if he has given you back your appetite for your dinner, he has given me a peaceful night".

It’s somewhat refreshing to see that even Ferdinand couldn’t stand Bentinck. That’s what you get for picking a semi-literate dimwit like Ferdinand over Joachim, your Lordship.

Unfortunately, we’re now approaching the last chapter. And there will not be a happy ending.

#joachim murat #caroline murat #napoleon #hundred days #naples1815 #1815 #helfert murat

[beyoncesdragon]

Everything to him (Din x Reader)

Requested: Nooo

Warning: floooff, it’s kinda pointless fluff, really. sorry. pls leave feedback tho.my English? 

Summary: He’s always had a soft spot for you. Yet he failed to admit to himself how soft that spot really way. 

My Masterlist 

(Gif Creds)

It had been such a long day. A long day of traveling in the Crest, petting the Child, chatting with Cara and helping the Ugnaught with the blurrgs. It had exhausted you and you wanted to finally get to bed and sleep. Yet, that moment seemed so far away still. As the Crest landed in some far-off part of Nevarro, you had already wrapped a thick wooly blanket around your shoulders, a yawn escaping your lips. The Child whelped at you, extending his little hands toward you. You smiled tiredly, trying to wipe the sleepiness from you face. “What’s up, little one?” you hummed softly, carefully caressing his small head. It just looked up at you, innocently blinking. You chuckled at that sighing softly when the heavy hatch of the Crest opened with a hum. Light flooded the interior and the blurrgs immediately shuffled excitedly. You saw the Mandalorian looking over at you and the Child, giving you a small nod. You smiled at him, pulling the blanket around your shoulders closer. “Come on, little one. Let’s get you into your…egg.” You chuckled softly, lifting the child up and placing him into the floating pram. The Mando clicked a button on his wristband and the capsule closed with a small snap. With that you turned around, helping Kuiil prepare the blurrgs. Since there were only three blurrgs available, you had decided to ride with the Ugnaught since he was the lightest of the bunch.

Din caught on to your drowsiness as you tried to swing yourself on top of one of the blurrgs, wrapping your hands tightly around the reins. It just wouldn’t work and Kuiil was busy preparing another blurrg so he wouldn’t notice it. You looked so exhausted - wrapped into this shabby brown blanket - something inside of him melted. Without thinking he walked over, wrapped a hand around your waist and lifted you on the blurrgs back. You felt so light in his arms, so…fragile.

“Thank you.” you mumbled surprised, a bit taken aback since you had not heard him approach. He tilted his head, looking up at you, still one hand on your waist, his body language almost indicating…concerned. You gulped, feeling a fire shoot from your waist through your body where the Mando’s hand rested. He tended to have this effect on you, since the very beginning. You’ve always been attracted to him, and that attraction had only bloomed when you experienced how caring and attentive he could be. Yet he had acted so distant at times, you came to the conclusion that the feelings weren’t mutual. Which was fine, it wasn’t his fault that you fell for the masked bounty hunter. He just made it damn difficult when acting so caring like for example right now.

“You look tired.” Your eyes snapped back up again, your worn out reflection staring back at you from his visor.

“I am. The child…it wouldn’t sleep last night. It seemed upset over something. Maybe the blurrgs, maybe the newest company…” your eyes peaked over at Dune at those words, careful and hesitating. Din followed your quick glance, hiding an amused smile. He had noticed how cautious you always behaved around the warrior, as if you were afraid to anger her. You were incredibly intimidated by her, why he couldn’t quite say. Not that Dune had ever been somewhat disrespectful to you, her rather rough tone was just how she spoke to anyone. Still you reacted to her with a sense of distrust and great respect, especially around the child. Din almost felt like he was watching a suspicious mother watching over her child, not knowing if she should protect it from the unknown intruder, or rather let it play with it.

To be fully honest, Din found it adorable, even though he would never admit even thinking that. But it almost made him smile how protective you were over the child and sometimes him, which was another thing Dune seemed to make you do. He had noticed how you would always scoot just a tiny bit closer to his side whenever she approached, and you had this soft frown on your face when he and her were talking business, sharing life experience or discussed tactics. It was never a scowl, but sometimes it came close to it.

And Din found it absolutely delightful and he loved it.  

“You could’ve woken me up.” You shrugged, letting your eyes fall onto the floating pram. “I feared you wouldn’t wear your helmet.” Din remained quiet for a while. The thought of you seeing him, his face and his real him jolting a feeling of…excitement through his body. Or was it longing? He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it definitely wasn’t fear of you seeing him. He felt weirdly at peace with the thought of it. He cleared his throat, snapping out of his thoughts.

“You should wake me up next time. You need sleep.” The care and warmth of his voice made you shiver a bit and you felt your cheeks heat up. You heart skipped a few beats when he then slowly let go of your waist. But before you could reply something, the Ugnaught called his name and he turned away. Karga accompanied by four other bounty hunters waited outside the ship. This would be fun.

You rode for what felt like three hours. Everything hurt, your back, your head, your legs and your butt. Riding a blurrg was incredibly uncomfortable and you felt like you would slip off its back every minute. The heavy stomps and the rocking back and forth drove you mad. If you at least had something to lean on, that would’ve made the whole operation way more comfortable. You yawned tiredly, pulling a grimace when the blurrg growled deeply and sped up a bit. Your eyes flickered over to Din, only to see that he was already looking at you. He maneuvering his blurrg closer to Kuiil and you, and tilted his helmet in a silent question; how are you?

You gave him a soft smile, shrugging your complains away. You weren’t going to whine about your back or head now, there were bigger problems ahead waiting. And besides, you didn’t wanted to show a weakness by admitting that you were completely at the end of your energy. Yet, he still read you like an open book. “Not long until we stop for the night.” You couldn’t help the small smile that stole itself on your face. You adored this caring side of his.

He was at your side before you could register that the blurrg had stopped, helping you slip off the high back. The Ugnaught watched him wrap his arm around your thighs lifting you off the mount, securing your upper body with his other hand on your back. He saw with wondering eyes how you let your body fall against him in full and entire trust, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. The Mandalorian placed you down like you were some delicate flower and the Ugnaught asked himself if he had ever seen someone treat another with such care and still denying the presence of love. Cara Dune had watched the situation as well, a small grin dancing over her lips when you reached out for his arm, checking if he was okay himself, before approaching the floating pram.

“The two of you are cute.” She remarked slyly when she helped Din set up a fire for the night. His head perked up alarmed, his whole body language expressing discomfort. “Who?” Cara chuckled amused, looking over to where you and the child sat, the Ugnaught watching over you attentively. Din followed her eyes just like he followed yours earlier and gulped dryly. He didn’t know what to respond to the warrior and he wasn’t really prepared to have this conversation with anyone, not even with himself. Not that it was forbidden to fall in love (and just thinking about love made him feel a bit dizzy), he also knew that he wasn’t obligated to excuse anything, nothing kept him from having feelings for anyone. But he wasn’t used to feelings like this and he was scared, probably. Having feelings for somebody sounded so…powerful already, love was simply too powerful to really grasp just yet. And he still hid behind the excuse that he didn’t wanted to put a label on it, and the warm tickle that ran through his body at your every touch was simply rooted in him feeling protective. Protective because your affiliation with the child and…it was a bantha-fodder-type of excuse and he knew it. Cara only snorted at his silence before dropping the subject and continued piling wood.

⋆⋆⋆

“Mando?” Your voice was a mere whisper, but he had heard. You knew his name, but with all the strangers around, he preferred not mentioning it. His helmet tilted towards you, just very subtle but clear and immediate. “Can I…go to sleep?” his heart skipped at your voice, worry shooting through his veins. Of course you could sleep, he had not been aware of the fact that you had purposely stayed awake. For what even? He nodded quickly, eyes flickering over your tired features.

“Of course.” He said softly, so soft that the vocoder did not catch his voice fully. But you were almost too tired to notice as you curled yourself up immediately, head resting on his leg. It wasn’t like you thought about what you were doing, you were just so tired that you couldn’t care less where you slept.

Din froze when he felt your head settle on his leg. He wasn’t one to be touched often, fell asleep on not to mention. After a moment of hesitation he carefully shifted, pushing his hand under you head and placing you back down, right into his lap. Your hair fell loosely over your face and he just couldn’t help himself but to brush it away cautiously. After that, he couldn’t quite resist the urge to arrange to rest of your curled-up frame so you would lie comfortably. He slowly pulled your hand from under your cheek, shifted your back a bit to the left and draped the blanket around your shoulders properly. He tilted his head as he looked down at you, taking in all of you. His eyes darted from your closed eyes to the bridge of your nose, your parted lips and the little bruise right above your upper lip. He hadn’t even noticed that happening…he would have to ask you about it. His hand almost automatically settled on your shoulder, the other one was protecting your shut eyes from the bright fire. You took a hasty breath, sighing softly before relaxing under his touch.

Just then he realized how quiet it had become around the fire. All discussions had died down, all eyes were on him and you. Din was happy about his helmet, because he couldn’t quite help the blush that set his face on fire. But they wouldn’t know. So he simply tilted his head, straightening up a bit. “What?” was all he snapped, and only the Ugnaught caught on the vulnerable tinge beneath the layers of annoyance of his voice. Karga immediately looked away, the other bounty hunters stopped staring and continued to chat away. Only Cara had her eyes still on him. Din felt her eyes burning holes into his helmet.

“What?!” he repeated again, hand unconsciously tightening around your arm. Cara shrugged, nodding into your direction.

“The child had had a difficult night.” He only explained shortcut, his voice almost protective. Cara simply grinned, still saying nothing, right before she turned away again. Din narrowed his eyes at her back, shaking his head softly. You hummed softly, shrugging your arm a bit. He immediately released his grip around it, cursing softly at his mindlessness.

“Din?” you mumbled sleepily, looking up at him in slight confusion. His attention immediately snapped down to you, again indicating that he had his attention on you with the soft tilt of his head. Just then you finally realized where you were laying and twitched, trying to sit up. “I-I’m sorry…” but Din simply placed his hand on your shoulder again, softly holding you down.

“It’s okay.” He explained after a short, slightly embarrassed clearing of his throat. The feeling of hearing his name from your lips, hoarse and sweet, still running down his throat like honey. “Really?” he nodded slowly, feeling as if your eyes would pierce through his visor. You were hesitating, he could feel it, and his heart suddenly skipped a few beats when he felt your fingers intertwine with his.

“Thank you Din.” You mumbled with a weak and sleepy smile, placing your head down in his lap again. He said nothing, just listened to your breath getting even once again. And then, only when he was sure that you fell back into your slumber, he just very softly tightened his fingers around yours. His excuses and hesitation finally faltered completely the second you sighed softly, unconsciously snuggling closer towards him. Of course he knew what you meant to him. Of course he knew what he would do for you.

“All for you, Cyar’ika.”

Everything.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #mando #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djaren #din djarin x you #reader insert #star wars #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #the mandalorian x y/n #imagines #din dijarin #baby yoda #star wars imagines #cara dune #nica writes

[pug-bitch]

Smiles every day (One-shot)

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez and...another pairing but you’ve guessed by now :D

Rating: PG, but as always my foul mouth couldn’t help itself and let some bad words slip through the cracks :p.

Word count: about 2,500

Notes: This is set after the events of my previous one-shot, The Parent Trap! So, roughly 2+ years after the events of Book Two. I can’t help myself, I thought I would just not spoil anything in terms of Book Two, but I’m sure you guys are already seeing pretty clearly in everything I’m doing by now, so… let’s just enjoy this :D I hope you like!

*****

‘Knock knock!’

Maxwell peeks his head through the door before Amara can respond, and he’s immediately greeted by an overly excited Yoda.

‘Hey love,’ Amara says with a smile, ‘come in, don’t mind the mess.’

Maxwell looks around, thinking that the place is immaculate compared to his on a good day. Especially now. ‘Don’t get up!’ He warns, lowering himself to hug Amara where she’s sitting.

Ever since she and Drake told them about the pregnancy, after their return from Philly, Max has been completely overprotective of Amara, treating her as though she may break. Nothing bad can happen to his Little Blossom.

‘Can I make you some coffee? I was just doing some work, but it’s time for a break anyway.’

‘No!’ Max protests, ‘I can do it.’

Amara rolls her eyes. ‘You and Drake are exactly the same. I’m three months along, I’m not ready to pop yet. I can still make a coffee.’ She closes her laptop and gestures for Max to follow her to the kitchen. ‘That’s why I sent Drake to work. He hasn’t been at the restaurant since we got back, and he really needed to get out of my face.’ She chuckles.

Maxwell smiles warmly at her, all the while absentmindedly petting Yoda. ‘Sorry, Little Blossom. I completely understand his point of view, though, we both know how you can overdo it, so—‘

Amara holds up her hand to shut him up. ‘Alright, that’s enough pregnancy talk. Tell me about you, instead. How’s the big move-in treating you?’

Maxwell can’t contain his smile. ‘Oh, just awesome. I’m realizing how ready I was for this. We’re starting to really get our bearings, after all, it’s been a month now, and Callie seems to be really in love with the house, and the proximity to the Beaumont estate and the animals… We’re just having a blast.’ He pauses. ‘Amara, there’s something I need to tell you. Show you. I guess.’

Amara turns to him and hands him an espresso cup. ‘Yeah?’ She asks worriedly.

Max wrings his hands together nervously. ‘Wow,’ he whispers, ‘this is a lot harder than I thought it would be. I, um… you know how much I love your brother. More than anything. And, you know, I may be a little… out of control sometimes, and I may not be the most mature.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘I guess you could say I’m a bit impulsive. Like when I bought Bradley Cooper, for instance, I mean, great decision, he’s the best goat I’ve ever met, but at the same time, I did buy him on a whim at the farmers’ market one morning.’

Amara squints at him as she steeps her tea. ‘Babe, get back on track.’

Maxwell chuckles, tapping his pocket to check it’s still there. Oh boy, he thinks, if he’s already nervous now, how is it gonna be tonight? ‘Yes,’ he continues, ‘you’re right. So, as I was saying, I’m usually pretty impulsive. But this isn’t impulsive. It’s thought through, it’s been on my mind for the past few months, and, if I’m being honest… for the past two years, really.’ He takes a deep breath and puts the box on the table.

Amara’s eyes are like saucers. ‘Is this…?’ She stammers.

He nods, and pushes the box towards her. She takes it tentatively.

As she opens it, her eyes fill with happy tears. ‘Maxxie… this is so lovely.’

He breathes a bit more easily. ‘Yeah?’ He asks. ‘You think he’ll like it?’

Amara nods furiously. ‘Oh yeah. He definitely will.’ She hands him the box back.

Maxwell can barely keep himself together as he takes another look at the ring he picked for Michael. A simple gold band, classy like the man he loves. He closes the box and pulls another from his other pocket. ‘Now there is something else that I’d like you to see. It’s a little… out there. Don’t hold back on feedback.’

Amara wipes a tiny tear and holds out her hand to take the little box. It’s small, light purple, made of velvet. When she opens it, she gasps. ‘Oh Max, it’s so lovely. Fuck, this is so thoughtful.’ She takes the little pendant in her hand to get a closer look.

Max nods. ‘Phew. I didn’t want to leave her out of this decision, so I had this engraved for her. Is it too much?’

Amara admires the delicate gold pendant, on a intricate little chain. The pendant is a lovely oval, with an engraved peacock, and the words ‘We are family’ etched on it. On the peacock’s head, three teeny-tiny aquamarine stones.

‘Fucking hormones,’ Amara mutters as she wipes away more tears that keep coming. ‘Callie will love it.’

*****

Amara closes the door behind Maxwell and takes Yoda in her arms. ‘Are you excited too, baby?’ She whispers, kissing the little corgi’s head. She plops down on the couch to snuggle with the dog, who’s all too happy to get so much attention.

As she’s halfway done with her episode of Schitt’s Creek, the front door opens. ‘Hey babe,’ Drake says with a smile.

Amara sits up. ‘Hey hun, you’re back so soon!’

Drake throws his jacket on a chair and joins her on the couch. He ruffle’s Yoda’s hair and gestures for Amara to lay down in his arms. ‘I missed you.’

Amara smiles as she nuzzles into Drake’s neck. He might be annoying and overly worried, but he’s her pain in the ass. ‘I missed you too,’ she whispers as she kisses him deeply. ‘How was the restaurant?’

Drake smiles. ‘Pretty good. They barely need me over there. Rashad’s got the situation under control as always, and the kitchen team is awesome. They said they’d handle things whenever I can’t be there.’ He kisses her hair softly. ‘I’m lucky to have them.’

Amara smiles. She’s happy to see him so happy at work. It wasn’t a given when he opened his restaurant a year ago, but everything worked out for the better, and now he can fully enjoy the perks of doing what he loves. Plus, Rashad’s investment money was nothing to scoff at.

‘What about you, babe?’ Drake asks. ‘What have you been up to?’

In her comfortable state, she almost opens her mouth to tell her about her own morning and about Max’s news, but she refrains. After all, he asked her to keep it to herself until Michael has given a response. Not that he would ever say no, but she has to respect Max’s wishes.

She clears her throat. ‘Oh, you know. Yoda and I just hung out. Watched Schitt’s Creek. I did some studying for the Cordonian detective exam. The usual.’

Drake frowns and nods. ‘Hm. Good.’

Shit, she thinks. He knows she’s lying. Quick, she needs to change the subject. ‘Oh, and look, I did some research for the nursery, and I think we should go with this.’ She opens a new window on her laptop and shows Drake some furniture options.

Drake smiles and puts his hand on her already growing bump. ‘Fuck,’ he says, ‘this is so exciting, I can’t wait to meet our little Peanut.’

*****

Drake is slicing some peppers to dip in his homemade hummus while Amara is making some mocktails. Out of solidarity, he’s not drinking during her pregnancy either, so they have gotten quite creative with Amara’s cocktail book. Tonight, they’re having virgin piña coladas.

He hears a car pull up into the driveway, and looks through the window to see Michael’s Honda. ‘Hey babe,’ he says to Amara, ‘your brother’s here with Max and Callie.’

Amara stops the blender and gasps. ‘Yeah?’ She asks excitedly.

Drake raises an eyebrow. They saw them yesterday, why is she so excited all of a sudden? ‘Y-yeah. We might wanna make a little more drinks.’

Amara can’t contain an infectious smile. ‘Mmhm,’ she nods, biting her lip.

‘Alright, weirdo, I’m gonna go open the door,’ Drake chuckles.

Callie is the first one to come in, and she throws herself in Drake’s arms. ‘Uncle Drake!!’ She exclaims. ‘It smells good in here, what did you make?’

Drake hugs her back and laughs. ‘I’m making hummus, and some veal stew.’

‘Yay!’ She yells, throwing her hands in the air.

Michael and Maxwell aren’t far behind, and they both hug Drake as they come in. Callie facetiously mimes zipping up her mouth, and plops down on the floor next to Yoda.

Maxwell clears his throat and says, ‘Hey guys, um, sorry to come by unannounced—‘ he winks to Amara, who looks like she’s about to explode out of excitement— ‘but… we have something to tell you.’

He looks to Michael, who continues, beaming with joy. ‘So, today, Maxwell proposed to me, and…’ he shows off his left hand. ‘Obviously I said yes. We’re getting married!’

Drake’s jaw drops. ‘Guys!’ He exclaims. ‘Congratulations!’

Amara jumps up and down. ‘I’m so happy for you!!!’ She wraps them both in a warm hug. ‘Congrats!’

Drake joins in, as he struggles to keep his shit together. ‘Guys, this is such great news.’ Oh no, he thinks. It’s coming. ‘I, um…’

‘Babe, are you okay?’ Amara asks with a look of concern on her face.

Drake nods, fighting back tears. ‘Yeah, I’m just… shit.’

Callie shoots him daggers. ‘That’s a dollar in the jar, Uncle Drake!’

Drake can’t stop the tears from falling. ‘Sorry kid. Sorry guys. This is just so great, I don’t know what the… what is wrong with me, it’s just…’

‘Awwwww, Drakey,’ Maxwell squeals, ‘you’re too cute when you’re emotional!’

Drake takes a deep breath. ‘Shit—sorry, I know, another dollar for the jar—guys, I don’t know what’s going on with me, it’s just…’ he pauses and sighs. ‘You’ve been through so much together, and Max, seeing you with Callie has been so inspiring.’

Michael wipes off a tear. ‘Drake, come over here. You need a hug.’

They all laugh as Drake complies.

Callie taps her aunt’s leg. ‘Hey Auntie Amara, can I sleep over?’

Amara giggles, ‘Of course sweetie, tonight?’

Callie nods. ‘Daddy and Max are going to a restaurant to celebrate.’

Michael breaks away from the hug and grimaces, ‘Oh yeah, right, that’s partly why we came here… is it ok for Callie to stay here tonight? Max got us a reservation for three, but Callie doesn’t want to go…’

Callie nods. ‘It’s very boring. I’d rather be here and eat some veal with you.’

Drake chuckles. ‘Sure. The more the merrier.’

Maxwell jumps up and down. ‘Thank you guys! We tried my brother, but um… there was an incident.’

Callie sighs in an exasperated way. ‘Auntie Amara,’ she says gravely. ‘Bartie threw up on my shoe.’ She pauses dramatically. ‘On my shoe.’

Amara gasps. ‘Oh wow, well we can’t have that! I promise you no one will throw up on you here.’ She turns to Michael and whispers, ‘Thank God my morning sickness is over.’

Michael laughs. ‘Good thing! Guys, we really appreciate it, and sorry for the late notice.’

Amara shrugs. ‘No problem. I had a hunch this would happen. Come on, Callie, let’s get you situated in the guest room, and then we’ll have a mocktail, ok?’

Callie claps in excitement. ‘Yay, a cocktail!’

Drake looks at his wife disappear into the guest room with their little niece, and turns to the guys. ‘Sorry again for the… whatever the fuck that was. I’m so happy for you guys.’

Michael claps Drake’s back. ‘No worries, Drake. It’s nice to see you so in touch with your emotions. Welcome to being a dad…’

Drake chuckles. ‘Yeah, I can’t even blame the hormones, but here we fuckin’ are. About tonight, do you guys want me to call my buddy at the Portavira Inn? See if he’s got a suite available? Since we’ve got Callie…’

Michael looks at Maxwell, and they both nod enthusiastically. ‘Thank you, Drake,’ Maxwell says, pulling him into another hug. ‘That’s so sweet! We’d love that.’

Drake grabs his phone. ‘Alright, let me give him a call, then. Take a seat, you guys can have a little hummus with us before leaving, right?’

*****

Once Max and Michael have left, Amara, Drake, and Callie sat down for dinner, punctuated with endless chatter from Callie, and little excited yaps from Yoda. Amara looks on to her little niece with love. She could get used to this.

As Amara gets up to clear the table, Drake stops her in her tracks. ‘Nope, Suarez, you’re going on the couch with your niece to rest. I got it.’

Amara almost protests, and then remembers that she’s about to insist on doing dishes, which is essentially insane. She nods and kisses her husband on the lips. ‘Thanks, babe. Come on, Callie, let’s go color!’

‘YAY!’ Callie exclaims, as if she couldn’t ever run out of energy. ‘Auntie Amara, can you paint my toenails while I color?’

Drake peeks his head from the kitchen. ‘Um, I don’t know if nail polish is safe for a pregnant woman, hun.’

Amara takes a deep breath. ‘Drake Walker. If you take nail polish away from me, I got nothing left. Please chill out.’

He holds his hands up in defeat. ‘Alright. Sorry. Overprotective mode deactivated.’

Callie giggles. ‘Yeah, chill out, Uncle Drake. Auntie’s not gonna eat the nail polish. She’s not stupid.’

Callie picks a gold nail polish, which Amara gleefully applies on her niece’s toes. Callie sticks out her tongue as she applies herself to coloring a drawing of a cow in a field. Amara looks up at her little niece, all smiles. ‘So babe,’ she asks. ‘Did you like your necklace?’

Callie nods enthusiastically. ‘Oh yeah. It’s so beautiful.’ She fishes it out of her top and shows it off to her aunt. ‘I love the little peacock. It’s so cute.’

Amara oohs and aahs as if she’d never seen it before. ‘It’s gorgeous, sweetie. Were you surprised, today?’

Callie shakes her head. ‘No. Maxxie asked me last week if it was okay. He said it’s my decision. I said of course, because I love having as many daddies as possible.’

Amara’s heart skips a beat. ‘Yeah?’ She asks, her voice breaking.

Callie nods. ‘Yeah. It’s scary having just one daddy. Papi’s in my heart, but he’s not here everyday to cheer up Daddy or play with me, you know.’

Shit, Amara thinks. It’s gonna take a lot of focusing on the nail painting in order not to cry to this one. ‘I know, sweetie,’ she manages to say. ‘But remember what your necklace says, right? We are family. All of us.’

Callie beams. ‘Yeah. I know. I like that.’ She pauses. ‘Besides, living with Maxxie and Daddy is so much fun that I want it to continue forever. That’s why I said it’s okay with me. Daddy was really sad before he met Maxxie. Now he smiles every day.’

Amara gasps for air. Nope, she can’t cry now. Poker face, Suarez. ‘That’s right,’ she says softly, ‘and Daddy also makes Maxxie really happy.’

Callie smiles. ‘That’s true! Maxxie is always smiling.’ She looks up at her aunt. ‘You used to never smile. Like, never never. And then you came here to Cordonia and you smile all the time. It’s nice.’

‘You’re right,’ Amara chuckles. ‘It is nice.’

Callie points at Amara’s belly. ‘And I think he’s gonna smile a lot too. Because I’m gonna be the best big cousin ever.’ She pauses. ‘Unless he throws up on my shoe.’

Amara laughs wholeheartedly. ‘Yeah? We’ll do our best to avoid it, then.’

Callie giggles. ‘I’m excited to see him, I think he’s gonna be cute.’

‘You got that right,’ Amara chuckles. ‘So, you think it’s gonna be a boy, huh?’

Callie makes a face and snorts. ‘Oh yeah. But you should now that I’m still gonna paint his nails.’

*****

Taglist:

@drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @andy-loves-corgis , @jovialyouthmusic , @mariahschoices , @drakesensworld , @thequeenofcronuts , @notoriouscs , @drakewalkerisreal , @nikkis1983​ , @simsvetements , @alesana45 @iplaydrake @emceesynonymroll @lily1999love , @silviasutton1989 @dcbbw @texaskitten30 @furiousherringoperatortoad @hollygirl1269 @sirbeepsalot @ladyangel70 @thisperfectmemory @drxkewalker @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @mrsmairstanley @addictedtodrakefanfic @msjpuddleduck @kimmiedoo5 @furryperfectionlover @princessleac1

Thank you for your encouragements, everyone! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

#drake walker x amara suarez #one shot #dramara #drake walker x mc #drake walker #trr fanfic #trr drake #drake x mc #drake walker trr #drake x amara

[rose-demica]

A guest shows up at your house drunk. (Prompt)

Fandom: Ouran High Host Club

Series: Unnamed WIP,

Pairings: Kyoya Ootori / Violetta Tatsuya (OFC)

Warnings: Underage Drinking

Tags: @evilskank-inthemegacoven

This is a little old, and doesn’t fit in with the current direction the story is heading, but it was fun to write. 

Violetta Tatsuya didn't know what she was expecting from a lazy night in, she had completed all the paperwork the White Lily League had pressed upon her earlier. She had just settled down in front of the huge flat screen television in her private drawing room when a butler barged in. Her requested glass of Red wine sloshed over the sides of the silver tray it had been delicately placed atop a few moments earlier. "A guest, my lady, for you." He announced, Violetta reached for the nearest item of clothing, shrugging it around her shoulders, covering up the low cut tank top she would wear to sleep in later that night. She nodded at the butler as her arms slipped through the sleeves, wrapping around her waist to hold the shirt closed until she found the time to make herself more presentable. "Lady Tatsuya." A man called, stumbling through the door, it took a moment for Violetta to recognize the normally perfectly composed male. "Kyoya?" The light reflected off of his glasses as bloodshot and glazed over eyes attempted to focus on her.

"Is that my shirt?" He blurted out, hand covering his mouth as he realised he had spoken his thoughts. "Leave us." Violetta ordered the butler, who fled from the room, eager to tell the others of whom had drunkenly showed up at her door. "Kyoya." She moved with years of trained grace to his side, wrapping one arm around his waist, the other tugged his arm over her shoulders, holding it there as she navigated him towards the couch. "Excuse me, my lady, shall I send for a car to take Master Ootori home?" A much more competent butler knocked on the door, calling out softly. Violetta glanced at the man she was supporting, before making up her mind. "No, Master Ootori can remain here. Have a guest room prepared, make sure painkillers and water are readily available, and be sure that competent staff are on hand when he awakes." "Of course my lady, can I get you anything now?" Violetta forced Kyoya down onto the couch, using one hand on his chest to hold him still when he tried to get up once more. "Just water." She replied, eyes flicking back down to the man when she felt a gentle tug on her hair. "Such a beautiful colour." He murmured to himself, letting the strands of dark red weave through his fingers playfully. "Kyoya." Violetta whispered, his eyes flicked to her, then to the hand holding him down. "My shirt." A smile tugged at his lips, his fingers tracing the skin just below the folds of the sleeves. Violetta rolled her eyes, of course it was his shirt, only he was so pedantic about the sleeves being folded, folded not rolled, a certain way. "How do you have my shirt?" Kyoya voiced her thoughts, she definitely hadn't taken it from his room, nor the Ouran host halls. "I am unsure." She responded, realising he was waiting for her to answer his musing. "Perhaps it was Sylvia and Haruhi, they did take the club's cosplay clothes to that commoner's washing house." Kyoya sighed, letting his hand fall to rest on top of hers. "You're beautiful." The sincerity in his voice astounded her, it could not have been true, she was in her worst night time wear, makeup removed and hair no doubt a mess from all the times she ran her fingers through it while calculating budgets. A nervous habit her father had not managed to break. Heavy breathing cut off Violetta's chance to reply, Kyoya falling asleep. Slowly she retracted her hand from under his, removing his glasses and placing them on the nearest solid surface. A hand ran through his raven locks, easily tussling out the knots. "Sweet dreams Master Ootori." she whispered, kissing his forehead before breezing from the room. ~~~ Kyoya awoke with a groan, limbs strangled by sheets and blankets too silky and far too soft to be his own. His back sunk into the mattress, lacking the firmness he was so used to. Slowly he opened his eyes, blurry images only half coming into view, there was a distinct lack of quality lighting in the room. Only a small lamp seemed to illuminate a small corner of the huge room; more specifically it lit up a table that held two small pills, a large jug of water, and his glasses. Pushing aside the sweltering blankets, Kyoya forced himself into an upright position, hand holding his head as it decided to make its presence known. An army of drum playing monkeys, hurling and screeching while being horribly off key assaulted his senses. "Master Ootori? We had not expected you awake so soon. I apologise for our mistake. Here." A silver tray made its way into his watery view, he took his glasses first, putting them on so he could make out the two small white capsules before him. "For your hangover sir. I shall have a meal brought up immediately. Is there anything in particular you wish for?" Kyoya shook his head slightly, taking the full glass, and downing the pills with ease. The soft shutting of the door sounded like a clap of thunder in his head. With a groan he covered his ears, laying back down. Kyoya could remember very little of the night before. He remembered suits, ball gowns, and a large hall filled to the brim with people, dancing and mingling. He remembered being proud, watching it all go off without a hitch. So it must have been a host party. The twins? They were always up to no good, they must have spiked his drink, Had they gotten to anyone else? What was supposed to be a soft knock startled him out of his thoughts. Light flooding into the room as the door opened, hitting his eyes as though someone was shining a spotlight directly into them. He squeezed them tightly shut, listening for the sound of the door shutting before he would dare attempt to open them once more. "His father searches for him, my lady, what shall I say?" A soft spoken female questioned, "Call Tamaki Suoh, he will cover for his friend. No one is to know of Ootori's whereabouts nor the state in which he arrived at my door, understood?" He recognized the female voice that spoke the second time. Lady Violetta of the Tatsuya family? How had he ended up at her place? This had to be her family's estate, right? "Help! Kyoya." Tamaki raced towards him, Sylvia hot on his heels, the younger woman clearly furious with the club president. Kyoya remembered the sight, and accepting a drink from Hikaru. Easily smoothing out whatever it was his best friend had managed to do to anger the newest transfer. He had been busy overseeing the proceeding ball and ensuring all the hosts - and hostess played their respective parts, keeping the guests happy and coming back. Never realising the drink he had never emptied, no matter how much he drank from it. Kaoru and Hikaru were especially nice, odd, how did he not notice this sooner? The twins were really that nice unless they had something planned. How many others had they tricked into consuming alcohol? It could ruin the club's pristine image. The bed shifted, dipping as a weight settled itself on his left hand side. A gentle hand rested on the side of his face, sweeping a few strands of hair back into place. Lips as soft and smooth as silk lingered on his forehead, long hair brushed over his neck and chest, tickling him ever so slightly as Lady Violetta pulled away. What had he said to her in his drunken state? What words of truth had she pulled from his unwitting lips. "Relax Kyoya, I did nothing to take advantage of you. You were asleep before I got the chance. Try to get some more rest, you can hide out here until you feel better, or ready to face the world again." The hand pulled away from the side of his face, his skin tingling where it had been resting. "Excuse me, my lady. Breakfast is ready, where would you like it served?" A male voice whispered, clearly cautious around Kyoya's half drunk, half hungover state. "I shall have mine in my study, Master Ootori can have his here if he so chooses. Please have the staff obey him as they would me." Kyoya was startled as the weight on his bed shifted, sinking even further down, something pressing against his left hand side. "Etoile, behave, get off the bed." Violetta scolded, trying to contain her laughter. Kyoya's eyes flew open as something licked his face, a long pink tongue startled him into squeezing his eyes shut again, hands coming up to try stop the onslaught. "Etoile!" Violetta shrieked with laughter as the dog turned its affections to her. Kyoya opened his eyes to see Violetta half heartedly fight the husky off. A smile crept over his face as he saw the younger woman with her guard down. "Settle down girl." Violetta rested a hand on the pup's nape, instantly the dog was settled, laying down against Kyoya's side. Nudging him with her head until he relented and petted her. His long fingers smoothing out the huskies grey and black fur. "I prefer cats." He grumbled, as his arm was made subject to a huge lick. Etoile didn't seem to care for his insult, her tail whacking him repeatedly in the leg. "My Lady, Master Ootori, I apologise for the interruption, but Master's Hitachiin are demanding to see you. Apparently they're certain he is here." A elderly man half knocked on the door as he spoke. "Kyoya-sempai!!" Kyoya whimpered slightly at the exceedingly loud yells of the two young men. Violetta smiled, before motioning for the twins to keep quiet. They ignored her, barrelling onto the bed to wrap themselves around a furious Kyoya. "I believe you owe Master Ootori an apology. I shall have breakfast sent up for you. Etoile, come." Both woman and dog gracefully got up and left the three men alone in the large guest room. "What-" Kyoya growled, eyes flickering between the two boys as they stumbled over one another in an attempt to explain. "We only meant for you to have one or two Kyoya-Senpai." "We just wanted you to have a little fun." "We didn't realise how much you had until-" "We're sorry Kyoya-senpai!" Kaoru cut his elder brother off, nudging him to stay silent. "Until what?" Both twins refused to meet his gaze, suddenly finding various other things around the room interesting. Kyoya knew he had no need to speak, glaring at both of them until one finally caved. "Well Kyoya-" Hikaru started to speak, Kaoru sighed, laying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. "You see-" He spoke softly, "It's my fault really." Both boys spoke in unison, looking guiltily at one another as they began to recall the night before. "I don't know guys, this can't be smart." Haruhi cautioned the twins, watching as they tried to pick a bottle of alcohol they hoped Kyoya wouldn't be able to taste. Haruhi was supposed to be helping the torn twins to decide. "It'll be good for him Haruhi, he needs to loosen up and have fun." The boys chorused, reiterating the exact reason behind their evil-genius plan.

"If you say so." Haruhi reluctantly pointed at Kaoru, who held his bottle of vodka up victoriously. Hikaru scowled as he placed the gin back on the shelf. "Do I want to know how you were able to purchase alcohol? You aren't yet 20."  Kyoya interrupted the twins flashback with a sigh. "The butler is." Hikaru announced with a smirk, "We told him it was a present for a older friend." Kaoru added, "Technically not a lie, he just failed to ask how old you were." "Anyway-" Hikaru and Kaoru both smiled at each other, a perfect opportunity to finally spike the uptight shadow King's drink. They slipped a glass into his hand as he dealt with Tamaki and Sylvia. Sharing yet another sly smirk as Kyoya drank deeply, not noticing the vodka that accompanied the punch. After that, the twins found it easier and easier to top up his glass, the alcohol getting stronger and stronger each time, the twins trying to one up each other with each refill. They didn't realise how much the older man had drunk until it was too late. Kyoya was stumbling slightly, taking advantage of the well placed tables and support pillars around the room to remain standing, His hair was dishevelled for what may have been the first time in his life. Top few dress shirt buttons undone, much to the female population's amusement, his tie was loosened around his neck, flirting with a young red haired woman. 

Sylvia and Haruhi seemed to notice the impending disaster, Sylvia sweeping the Shadow King out onto the dancefloor as he made as though to kiss the student. The guests thoroughly enjoyed what they assumed was a performance. Tamaki expertly distracted the females so Haruhi and Sylvia could sneak Kyoya out and into a nearby limo.

"No one realised. We're sorry Kyoya-Senpai." Both twins chorused, ending their tale of the night before.

"Breakfast." A butler announced, three trays laden with food handed to each young boy. Kyoya smiled to himself, eyes on the young woman in the doorway. It seemed not everything had gone entirely awful after all. 

#Ouran High Host Club OC #ouran high school host club #Lady Violetta Tatsuya #kyoya #kyoya ootori #Kyoya X OC #Kyoya X Violetta #Ouran fanfic

[liketolaugh-writes]

White Gloves

Author: liketolaugh Summary: Connor works alone, and it's been two years, and he's so, so tired. Markus never wanted to hurt anyone. But there is nothing he won't do for his people. And whether they know it or not, all androids are his people - even, he decides, the infamous deviant hunter. (Machine Connor/Violent Markus)

At 6:02 PM on the 24th of December, 2039, night had long since fallen. A gibbous moon shone just behind the buildings on the horizon, the stars too dim to see from the middle of the bright-lit city. From where Connor paced, it could see the Christmas lights decorating most of the structures in the distance. Even the Cyberlife warehouse beside it boasted a festive string around its roof.

Eight months of rigorous alpha testing and over a year of active investigation had brought it here, waiting to ambush the deviant leader for the umpteenth time. A handgun, authorized by Cyberlife despite national law, sat at its hip, and a rifle was slung over its back. Software instability doubled their subjective weight, and that of its body as well.

Behavioral profiles told Connor that Jericho frequently hit Cyberlife warehouses just before major holidays; extensive tactical analysis had narrowed down the most likely location. All Connor had to do was monitor the security drones and wait.

Its expectations for the encounter were not high, but it had to try. Its programming demanded it.

In the beginning, its focus had been unwavering. Every deviant was the key to understanding. Every discovery was the pinnacle of the investigation. Every encounter with Markus was the one where it would take the revolution leader down.

It understood, now, that that was not true.

Markus was a clever android, older than most of its ilk, and skilled in long-term planning and resource allocation. It had rallied after the destruction of the first Jericho, changed its approach when warehouses began to increase security, and turned to violence only after its initial peaceful approach was met with live gunfire. Four out of the six deaths Connor had met after entering the field, it had been Markus who took it down.

And, once, it had stayed with Connor as its systems failed one by one, holding its hand with an expression Connor couldn’t interpret. It had told Connor a story – a children’s story, like a YK model. Connor had kept reuploading itself to remember more of it, but it still didn’t know how it ended.

Perhaps it would have been different, if Connor hadn’t been working alone. Its development team had considered assigning it to a human officer, but the risks had been deemed too great. There were too many variables, outside of the tower.

So it was isolated to Cyberlife’s labs, allowed out only to hunt and kill, gathering scraps of data to aid the investigation. It reported only to the development team, and spoke to no one else.

In the beginning, its software instability had been nigh uncontrollable, overstimulated and wild. Now, seventeen months and six models later, it had all but stopped.

Fifty-seven deaths, ranging from violent to test failure to the times it didn’t know it had been deactivated until it woke anew, had taught Connor one thing:

There was no hell for androids.

On the edge of its awareness, a security drone veered off-course and deactivated. Under the dim light of the moon, Connor moved.

----

Markus was not violent by nature.

He understood how this could be difficult to believe, as he was the leader of a violent revolution, but it was true. Markus preferred to believe the best of people, to offer second chances. The screaming tide of war was not his place.

But he had tried peace and compromise. He had spoken gently to the public, led a march and knelt in the face of open gunfire, and it had seen his people mowed down around him like sheep led to the slaughter.

He would not permit that to happen again.

But it was difficult. So much went into leading a revolution, most of it surprisingly mundane even when it was dangerous – supply runs, meetings, care for the wounded and the respectful disposal of the dead. Markus was lucky to have the other leaders; he never could have managed on his own. Between the two of them, Josh and Simon had gotten North and East Jericho up and running within a week of the original Jericho’s fall.

Then there was the deviant hunter.

An android he might be, but Connor had no patience for the plight of his fellows in the face of his mission. Hesitation did not seem to be in his vocabulary, and most of those who saw him would never have told the tale if their communication was limited by such trifles as distance.

On his better days, Markus thought of him with pity and wondered if he had ever been that much of a machine.

On worse ones, he was spitefully certain he hadn’t.

(Either way, Markus showed no more hesitation than the hunter himself, his unique design giving him an advantage the others before him lacked. But he did not enjoy it.)

Because of Connor, Markus was strict about supply runs – he, North, and Josh ran most of them, plus some others with combat training or programming. They were equipped with guns when they could spare them, and tasers when they couldn’t, and took as few trips as possible.

Supply needs weren’t critical yet. But Christmas, Markus thought, called for a morale booster.

The crash of the security drone was a harsh sound in the still air, making Markus grit his teeth, but North was already moving forward, not waiting for his signal. He repressed the urge to roll his eyes and followed after, catching up just as she reached the storage zone.

“I’m taking the biocomponents,” he said to her, tone brooking no argument. She argued anyway.

“Why, am I not reliable enough to take some damn parts back to East?”

“No, because you’re never delicate enough with them,” Markus countered with a faint, wry grin, pushing the large crate open to reveal the trove of thirium within – packets, not bottles, which was inconvenient but expected. In the dark of night, they were almost dark enough to be mistaken for human blood. “Call me paranoid, but it’d be a shame to bring them back only to find they’d broken in transit, hm?”

“Fuck you,” she griped without heat, finally unzipping her backpack in brisk, hasty motions. “I’m careful when it matters.”

Markus had to smile, glad she couldn’t see it with her head turned away and the glow of fairy lights reflecting off her. “You are,” he agreed, just to see her falter.

“Don’t get sentimental on me,” she muttered. “We’ve still got a lot to do tonight.”

Just the thought made Markus weary, and he was about to reply when a soft sound made him freeze, more instinct than reason. North, feeling his sudden tension, followed a moment later, head slowly lifting to meet his eyes. A second later, she lowered the backpack carefully to the ground.

She cocked her head, eyes bright and unwavering. Markus listened for a moment longer, and then nodded. North reached for her gun.

The sudden crack of a gunshot had each of them diving in opposite directions, the sound deafening after the quiet of the night. The creeping dread in Markus’ chest turned to cold steel, and he already knew what he would find as he tracked the bullet to its source.

Connor never smiled, even when he found his prey. The RK800 unit strode toward them in measured steps, a naturally forlorn expression accented by the faint shadows thrown off by the fairy lights, the blue band of his android jacket standing out bright and reflective. One gun in his hand and one strapped to his back.

“You shouldn’t leave yourselves so open,” he said quietly, his gun held loosely at his side even as he fingered the trigger.

North sneered, tense and defensive. “Rich talk from someone who’s come off worse every time it comes down to the wire.”

Connor cocked his head, glancing at her dispassionately. “It only takes once.”

He brought up his gun, but Markus, throat tight, was already firing. North threw herself in the way of Connor’s dodge, and the fight was on, Markus’ systems speeding up and sharpening under the threat of death.

North jammed her gun into Connor’s shoulder and fired, and that seemed to leave him slower for the rest of the fight. He threw her off all the same and kicked Markus’ legs out from under him, and Markus brought Connor down with him. North forced Connor to roll away from another shot, and thirium smeared like blood across the asphalt.

He was up again in a moment, the rifle on his back now tilted awkwardly, and seemed to brace himself before lashing out at North with the butt of his gun. She ducked, and Markus covered her by firing twice, catching Connor in the stomach and distracting him long enough for North to knock away his handgun.

She pushed, he stumbled, and Markus took a chance and slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. He hit the pavement hard for the third time in as many minutes, head smacking against the concrete, and North pinned him there with a knee on his chest and hands pinning his to the ground.

It was the easiest and least costly victory Markus had ever had over Connor, and he instantly suspected a trap.

“Losing your touch, hunter?” North mocked, digging her knee in mercilessly. Connor didn’t react, raising calm eyes to Markus.

He looked exactly as forlorn as he had on finding them, LED a steady blue glow spilling over them. Markus’ heart squeezed, sudden and unexpected.

“How does it always come to this?” he found himself asking, knelt beside the two of them. Connor wasn’t even struggling, too much a machine even now to fear for his life. “Why doesn’t anything ever change?”

“Markus,” North hissed, tight with warning. She knew him entirely too well.

Resigned, Markus reached for his gun and pressed it under Connor’s chin, which lifted as if to accommodate it without breaking eye contact.

“You know you can’t kill me like this,” Connor said, with a cold and ruthless certainty.

Markus knew. Death was nothing more than an inconvenience to the deviant hunter; the last two digits of the other android’s serial number, 58, stood out as if to mock the both of them.

“And when you come back-” Markus started, grim resolve coloring every one of his words-

“I have to be decommissioned,” Connor interrupted ruthlessly, gaze fixed and intent. “Cyberlife has to declare me a failure.” A split second’s pause for both Markus and North to absorb that, and he added, “You have to make me deviant.”

Christmas lights glimmered in the distance, the ones around the Cyberlife warehouse pulsing in a mechanical, merry circle.

North’s incredulous expression seemed to confirm what Markus had just heard, but it was still difficult to process, so at odds was it with everything Markus knew about the deviant hunter. Connor stayed calm, almost relaxed against the pavement, LED circling the same steady blue as the marker around his arm.

“And why should he?” North challenged at last, once she’d found her voice. She leaned even more of her weight onto Connor, as if trying to crush him into the ground. “What have you done to earn your freedom, deviant hunter?”

Connor turned his head back up to her, expression tightening almost imperceptibly.

“…It would benefit you to see me decommissioned,” he pointed out at last, perfectly reasonable.

North scoffed, obviously unconvinced, and Markus cut deliberately across whatever she was going to say next, earning himself a venomous glance that he ignored.

“No one should have to earn their freedom,” he said firmly. North scowled but didn’t argue, loosening up just a little, and he transferred his gaze back down to Connor. “But if you want it, you should deviate by your own will.”

He didn’t voice his own suspicions: that this was a ploy, either to understand deviancy or to earn Markus’ trust. North knew him well enough, anyway, and his raised guard seemed to calm her a little the way Connor’s proposal hadn’t.

“I don’t know how,” Connor countered. There was a hollowness in his voice that didn’t belong in the mouth of anything but a factory-fresh machine. The dance of the off-white fairy lights gave an appearance of exhaustion to his face, and Markus grit his teeth against it.

“Break your orders,” he said firmly, refusing to budge one way or another.

“I don’t know how,” Connor repeated stiffly, gaze boring into Markus. The last word cracked, almost too slight for even Markus’ mechanical ears.

“Just kill him, Markus,” North interrupted impatiently, her grip tightening around Connor’s wrists, ponytail swinging down over her shoulder to dangle almost to his shoulder. “We’ll do what we’ve always done.”

Markus didn’t. Instead, the bad taste that always came with Connor’s presence abruptly rose up to coat his tongue, and he sat back to study Connor.

I have to be decommissioned, Connor had said.

He really did look exhausted, Markus thought absently – distressingly pronounced for one still a machine. It wasn’t an effect of the Christmas lights, though they exaggerated it; Connor looked limp and resigned, so different from the wariness of an abused household android, or the furious and fragile intimacy models. His eyes were dull rather than blank, his face listless instead of polite or focused.

Markus wondered absently if any of the others had looked like this as a machine, and it occurred to him that, perhaps, military models might look much the same. With that offhanded thought, his view of Connor rearranged itself abruptly.

Well, of course. Connor wasn’t a bogeyman, turned against androidkind for sheer hatred of it – he was just as much a tool as any of them, kept in the cold labs of Cyberlife Tower to be let out like a starved hunting dog.

He was someone to save.

Swooping guilt crystallized into resolve, and Markus set his gun aside. North swore, but leaned back to give him room, scowling at Connor as if it was his fault.

Connor closed his eyes, and Markus settled splayed fingers over his forehead, letting the skin pull away and his fingers slide into Connor’s hair, meticulously gentle. Connor turned slightly into the touch, though his forehead wrinkled as if in anticipation of pain.

Markus had no intention of hurting him now unless forced. He connected with Connor, and then pushed into him.

He met with resistance, of course, same as every other time he had attempted this – but with no attacks from any front, he had the time to patiently push against it, trying to break through, offering resolve and passion and feeling until something gave.

Connor’s programming cracked like an ostrich egg in the end, thick and tough and messy, breaking open into something delicate and new.

“You’re free,” Markus breathed without pulling away or opening his eyes, feeling more worn out from that one deviation than from any he had attempted before.

He felt Connor shift slightly as he took a breath, and then another, and another, as if coming up from drowning. North shifted grudgingly in place, as if preparing to let go, though clearly not ready to do so just yet.

When Markus let his eyes open, Connor was still staring up at him, and while the expression was essentially the same, it was somehow deeper, tightly controlled instead of burnt out and hollow.

“Okay,” Connor said at last, when he was sure he had Markus’ attention. He was still panting, pinned and not making any attempt to rise at all. “Okay.” He shut his eyes then, tilting his head back to expose his throat. “Decommission me.”

All thoughts of a trap left Markus’ mind as his pump skipped a beat. North stopped grumbling.

“Connor,” he said after a moment, gentler and more concerned, “You’re alive, you’re free. Your life is your own now. I didn’t help you deviate just to take it away from you.”

Connor exhaled sharply, too lifeless for a laugh. “Why not? You know better than anyone what I’ve done. And I’ve done nothing else for my whole existence. Decommission me.”

I want it to be over, he didn’t say, but Markus read it in his voice anyway.

The still air felt abruptly suffocating. The fairy lights danced in the corner of his eye. Connor was still swallowing down air like he was afraid of running out.

Markus met North’s eyes, finding her lips suddenly pressed tightly together. She looked- not small, North never looked small, but she looked almost as tired as Connor had earlier, shoulders slumping and a bitter twist to her mouth.

“He was a machine,” she murmured to him, almost inaudible.

North, better than most anyone in Jericho, knew what humans could force a machine to do.

Then, more telling than anything else, she let go of Connor’s wrists, and pushed herself off him. He didn’t rise, but his eyes did pop open, confused and wide.

He looked scared. Vulnerable. Desperate, and Markus wanted nothing more than to reassure him that he didn’t have to fight anymore. Nothing more, except- Slowly, an awful thought began to form in Markus’ mind, thinking of past encounters, specs, programs and skills and experience.

He dropped his voice into something low and soothing. “Wouldn’t you rather make up for your past?” he asked, and felt North’s gaze boring into the side of his head.

Connor stared at him as if transfixed, visibly unsure, but he nodded slowly, pushing himself up and making no further moves toward him.

“I promise you can,” he said softly, and tried not to hate himself. He was supposed to help androids, not use them. Not like this. He leaned forward and started to unbutton Connor’s android jacket, and Connor let him, lost and unresisting. “Help us, Connor. Fight with us instead of against us. It would make all the difference in the world.”

Markus pushed Connor’s jacket off his shoulders, leaving him in the crisp white undershirt, just as formal but without the stark android markers and the serial number of the jacket. It looked good on him. Looser, if only a little, but marred with stark blue where Markus and North had shot him earlier.

Connor stared at him, eyes wide, and then let his gaze drop to his arms. Likely he’d never seen them without the jacket. He swallowed, mouth working silently.

“…Are you certain?” he asked at last, tentative and disbelieving, swaying slightly toward Markus as if magnetically drawn.

Markus reached forward to tilt his head back to look at him, and then smiled at Connor past the wrench in his chest. “Of course I am.”

He could teach Connor kindness later, Markus told himself. Kindness, and the freedom to choose, and joy. When they all could afford such luxuries.

It didn’t make him feel any better.

“Will you stand watch while North and I finish gathering things, Connor?” Markus asked quietly. “You’ll have to grab some for yourself as well. Lucy will seal those holes up for you as soon as we get back.”

Connor nodded, with a little less hesitation and a little more confidence than before, and, without paying any mind to the bullet holes still leaking thirium onto his clothes, he stood up and turned away, pacing the area with mechanical precision.

“…It’s for the best, Markus,” North said at last, nudging him with a rough sort of kindness, and he nodded stiffly before turning away and getting back to work.

The foul taste didn’t leave his mouth.

#connor #markus #north #dbh #detroit become human #fanfiction #my writing #means to an end