#It’s absolutely the author. If he wanted to hide that; he picked the worst fucking medium possible

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Ok so I just read chapter fourteen of The Rebuilt Man.

Why does every female character‘s breasts have to be immediately described within seconds of introducing them? Why does every lady with more dialogue than “Hello, and welcome to the Mauna Loa Holiday Inn! How may I help you?” have to get butt naked and instigate sex?

Fucking. Louisa. Vandenhoff’s step-niece. Does it. With Vandenhoff. “It’s okay because we’re not actually kin.” BRO YOU’VE KNOWN HER SINCE SHE WAS FOURTEEN and you’ve been fascinated with her “big ugly thighs” ever since. Yuck.

For the record I don’t mind graphic or disturbing depictions of… anything… in fiction, so long as it makes sense and is done with some level of delicacy; but every instance of a man and woman staying together in this book, no matter what the relation, has ended in sex. Every time. Lori and Don, I can understand; that makes sense. She’s pretending to be his wife for top-secret national security reasons. But this? Come on. No. “Louisa needed somewhere to stay for college. It took Louisa and Vandenhoff exactly ten weeks of them staying in the same house before the desire became unbearable.” I feel like I’m reading a story on confessionpost.com (don’t go to that website; it’s vile and full of just about everything in the average person’s DNI… and it’s allegedly all real).

AND! AND! It gets worse. Right before these two do the deed, the narrator goes on to explain how undesirable Louisa is. In fact, EVERYTHING about Louisa is undesirable except her voice (which is uncharacteristically sexy, of course). None of the boys her age would have her because of her looks (which, by the way, sound similar to a lady’s in classical painting); so Vandenhoff — HER FIFTY-YEAR-OLD STEP-UNCLE — is the only guy in the world who wants her. That’s the implication. Yuck.

#The incessant dumbfuckery of misogynist authors past and present #the rebuilt man #william beechcroft #The plot is actually excellent and I like how Lori and Prettykin are foils to each other but [distant retching sounds] #I get it; government officials are corrupt and do fucked up shit but… you’ve gotta stop body-shaming your characters man #And I know it’s not just a specific character who’s especially preoccupied with weight and appearance #The story is written in 3rd person omniscient; body-shaming and unwarranted insults happen in multiple characters’ POVs #It’s absolutely the author. If he wanted to hide that; he picked the worst fucking medium possible #incest mention tw #I have a love-hate relationship with this book #Great plot; but I’m constantly distracted by the author’s pervasive grossness #I mean if you want to insult people; insult EVERYONE for EVERYTHING #sex mention tw

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: black science fiction

As february and black history month nears its end, if you're a reader let's not forget to read and appreciate books by black authors the rest of the year as well! If you're a sci-fi fan like me, perhaps this list can help find some good books to sink your teeth into.

Bleak dystopias, high tech space adventures, alien monsters, alternate dimensions, mash-ups of sci-fi and fantasy - this list features a little bit of everything for genre fiction fans!

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Lagoon by Nnedi Okorafor

Something massive and alien crashes into the ocean off the coast of Nigeria. Three people, a marine biologist, a rapper, and a soldier, find themselves at the center of this presence, attempting to shepherd an alien ambassador as chaos spreads in the city. A strange novel that mixes the supernatural with the alien, shifts between many different POVs, and gives a one of a kind look at a possible first contact.

Nubia: The Awakening (Nubia series) by Omar Epps & Clarence A. Hayes

Young adult. Three teens living in the slums of an enviromentally ravaged New York find that something powerful is awakening within them. They’re all children of refugees of Nubia, a utopian African island nation that sank as the climate worsened, and realize now that their parents have been hiding aspects of their heritage from them. But as they come into their own, someone seeks to use their abilities to his own ends, against their own people.

The Scourge Between Stars by Ness Brown

Novella. After having failed at establishing a new colony, starship Calypso fights to make it back to Earth. Acting captain Jacklyn Albright is already struggling against the threats of interstellar space and impending starvation when the ship throws her a new danger: something is hiding on the ship, picking off her crew one by one in bloody, gruesome ways. A quick, excellent read if you want some good Alien vibes.

Dawn (Xenogenesis trilogy) by Octavia E. Butler*

After a devestating war leaves humanity on the brink of extinction, survivor Lilith finds herself waking up naked and alone in a strange room. She’s been rescued by the Oankali, who have arrived just in time to save the human race. But there’s a price to survival, and it might be humanity itself. Absolutely fucked up I love it I once had to drop the book mid read to stare at the ceiling and exclaim in horror at what was going on. Includes darker examinations of agency and consent, so enter with caution.

Midnight Robber by Nalo Hopkinson*

Utterly unique in world-building, story, and prose, Midnight Robber follows young Tan-Tan and her father, inhabitants of the Carribean-colonized planet of Toussaint. When her father commits a terrible crime, he’s exiled to a parallel version of the same planet, home to strange aliens and other human exiles. Tan-Tan, not wanting to lose her father, follows with him. Trapped on this new planet, he becomes her worst nightmare. Enter this book with caution, as it contains graphic child sexual abuse.

Rosewater (The Wormwood trilogy) by Tade Thompson

In Nigeria lies Rosewater, a city bordering on a strange, alien biodome. Its motives are unknown, but it’s having an undeniable effect on the surrounding life. Kaaro, former criminal and current psychic agent for the government, is one of the people changed by it. When other psychics like him begin getting killed, Kaaro must take it upon himself to find out the truth about the biodome and its intentions.

Do You Dream of Terra-Two? by Temi Oh

Young adult. A century ago, an astronomer discovered a possibly Earth-like planet. Now, a team of veteran astronauts and carefully chosen teenagers are preparing to embark on a twenty-three year trip to get there. But space is dangerous, and the team has no one to rely on but each other if - or when - something goes wrong. An introspective slowburn of a story, this focuses more on character work than action.

The Best of All Possible Worlds by Karen Lord

After the planet Sadira is left uninhabitable, its few survivors are forced to move to a new world. On Cygnus Beta, they work to rebuild their society alongside their distant relatives of the planet, while trying to preserve what remains of their culture. Focused less on hard science or action, The Best of All Possible Worlds is more about culture, romance and the ethics and practicalities of telepathy.

Mirage (Mirage duology) by Somaiya Daud

Young adult. Eighteen-year-old Amani lives on an isolated moon under the oppressive occupation of the Valthek empire. When Amani is abducted, she finds herself someplace wholly unexpected: the royal palace. As it turns out, she's nearly identical to the half-Valthek, and widely hated, princess Maram, who is in need of a body double. If Amani ever wants to make it back home or see her people freed from oppression, she will have to play her role as princess perfectly. While sci-fi, this one more has the vibe of a fantasy.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon

Life on the lower decks of the generation ship HSS Matilda is hard for Aster, an outcast even among outcasts, trying to survive in a system not dissimilar to the old antebellum South. The ship’s leaders have imposed harsh restrictions on their darker skinned people, using them as an oppressed work force as they travel toward their supposed Promised Land. But as Aster finds a link between the death of the ship’s sovereign and the suicide of her own mother, she realizes there may be a way off the ship.

Where It Rains in Color by Denise Crittendon

The planet Swazembi is a utopia of color and beauty, the most beautiful of all its citizens being the Rare Indigo. Lileala was just named Rare Indigo, but her strict yet pampered life gets upended when her beautiful skin is struck by a mysterious sickness, leaving it covered in scars and scabs. Meanwhile, voices start to whisper in Lileala's mind, bringing to the surface a past long forgotten involving her entire society.

Eacaping Exodus (Escaping Exodus duology) by Nicky Drayden

Seske is the heir to the leader of a clan living inside a gigantic, spacefaring beast, of which they frequently need to catch a new one to reside in as their presence slowly kills the beast from the inside. While I found the ending rushed with regards to plot and character, the worldbuilding is very fresh and the overall plot of survival and class struggle an interesting one. It’s also sapphic!

Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah*

In a near future America, inmates on death row or with life sentences in private prisons can choose to participate in death matches for entertainment. If they survive long enough - a rare case indeed - they regain their freedom. Among these prisoners are Loretta Thurwar and Hamara "Hurricane Staxxx" Stacker, partners behind the scenes and close to the deadline of a possible release - if only they can survive for long enough. As the game continues to be stacked against them and protests mount outside, two women fight for love, freedom, and their own humanity. Chain-Gang All-Stars is bleak and unflinching as well as genuinely hopeful in its portrayal of a dark but all to real possible future.

Parable of the Sower (Earthseed duology) by Octavia E. Butler*

In a bleak future, Lauren Olamina lives with her family in a gated community, one of few still safe places in a time of chaos. When her community falls, Lauren is forced on the run. As she makes her way toward possible safety, she picks up a following of other refugees, and sows the seeds of a new ideology which may one day be the saviour of mankind. Very bleak and scarily realistic, Parable of the Sower will make you both fear for mankind and regain your hope for humanity.

Binti (Binti trilogy) by Nnedi Okorafor

Young adult novella. Binti is the first of the Himba people to be accepted into the prestigious Oomza University, the finest place of higher learning in all the galaxy. But as she embarks on her interstellar journey, the unthinkable happens: her ship is attacked by the terrifying Meduse, an alien race at war with Oomza University.

War Girls (War Girls duology) by Tochi Onyebuchi

In an enviromentally fraught future, the Nigerian civil war has flared back up, utilizing cybernetics and mechs to enhance its soldiers. Two sisters, by bond if not by blood, are separated and end up on differing sides of the struggle. Brutal and dark, with themes of dehumanization of soldiers through cybernetics that turn them into weapons, and the effect and trauma this has on them.

The Space Between Worlds (The Space Between Worlds duology) by Micaiah Johnson

Multiverse travel is finally possible, but there’s a catch: No one can visit a world where their counterpart is still alive. Enter Cara, whose parallel selves happen to be exceptionally good at dying. As such she has a very special job in traveling to these worlds, hoping to keep her position long enough to gain citizenship in the walled-off Wiley City, away from the wastes where she grew up. But her job is dangerous, especially when she gets on the tracks of a secret that threatens the entire multiverse. Really cool worldbuilding and characters, also featuring a sapphic lead!

The Fifth Season (The Broken Eart trilogy) by N.K. Jemisin*

In a world regularly torn apart by natural disasters, a big one finally strikes and society as we know it falls, leaving people floundering to survive in a post apocalyptic world, its secrets and past to be slowly revealed. We get to follow a mother as she races through this world to find and save her missing daughter. While mostly fantasy in genre, this series does have some sci-fi flavor, and is genuinely some of the best books I've ever read, please read them.

The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings*

In an alternate version of our present, the witch hunt never ended. Women are constantly watched and expected to marry young so their husbands can keep an eye on them. When she was fourteen, Josephine's mother disappeared, leveling suspicions at both mother and daughter of possible witchcraft. Now, nearly a decade and a half later, Jo, in trying to finally accept her missing mother as dead, decides to follow up on a set of seemingly nonsensical instructions left in her will. Features a bisexual lead!

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden

South African-set scifi featuring gods ancient and new, robots finding sentience, dik-diks, and a gay teen with mind control abilities. An ancient goddess seeks to return to her true power no matter how many humans she has to sacrifice to get there. A little bit all over the place but very creative and fresh.

The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson*

Young adult. Young artist June Costa lives in Palmares Tres, a beautiful, matriarchal city relying heavily on tradition, one of which is the Summer King. The most recent Summer King is Enki, a bold boy and fellow artist. With him at her side, June seeks to finally find fame and recognition through her art, breaking through the generational divide of her home. But growing close to Enki is dangerous, because he, like all Summer Kings, is destined to die.

The Blood Trials (The Blood Gifted duology) by N.E. Davenport

After Ikenna's grandfather is assasinated, she is convinced that only a member of the Praetorian guard, elite soldiers, could’ve killed him. Seeking to uncover his killer, Ikenna enrolls in a dangerous trial to join the Praetorians which only a quarter of applicants survive. For Ikenna, the stakes are even higher, as she's hiding forbidden blood magic which could cost her her life. Mix of fantasy and sci-fi. While I didn’t super vibe with this one, I suspect fans of action packed romantasy will enjoy it.

Babel-17 by Samuel R. Delany

1960s classic. Rydra Wong is a space captain, linguist and poet who is set on learning to understand Babel-17, a language which is humanity's only clue at the enemy in an interstaller war. But Babel-17 is more than just a language, and studying it may change Rydra forever.

Pet (Pet duology) by Akwaeke Emezi

Young adult novella. Jam lives in a utopian future that has been freed of monsters and the systems which created and upheld them. But then she meets Pet, a dangerous creature claiming to be hunting a monster still among them, prepared to stop at nothing to find them. While I personally found the word-building in Pet lacking, it deftly handles dark subjects of what makes a human a monster.

Bonus AKA I haven’t read these yet but they seem really cool

Lion's Blood by Steven Barnes

Alternate history in which Africans colonized South America while vikings colonized the North. The vikings sell abducted Celts and Franks as slaves to the South, one of which is eleven-years-old Irish boy Aidan O'Dere, who was just bought by a Southern plantation owner.

The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow

Young adult dystopia. Ellie lives in a future where humanity is under the control of the alien Ilori. All art is forbidden, but Ellie keeps a secret library; when one of her books disappears, she fears discovery and execution. M0Rr1S, born in a lab and raised to be emotionless, finds her library, and though he should deliver her for execution, he finds himself obsessed with human music. Together the two embark on a roadtrip which may save humanity.

Womb City by Tlotlo Tsamaase

Lelah lives in future Botswana, but despite money and fame she finds herself in an unhappy marriage, her body controlled via microchip by her husband. After burying the body of an accidental hit and run, Lelah's life gets worse when the ghost of her victim returns to enact bloody vengeance.

Orleans by Sherri L. Smith

Young adult. Fen de la Guerre, living in a quarantined Gulf Coast left devestated by storms and sickness, is forced on the run with a newborn after her tribe is attacked. Hoping to get the child to safety, Fen seeks to get to the other side of the wall, she teams up with a scientist from the outside the quarantine zone.

Everfair by Nisi Shawl

A neo-victorian alternate history, in which a part of Congo was kept safe from colonisation, becoming Everfair, a safe haven for both the people of Congo and former slaves returning from America. Here they must struggle to keep this home safe for them all.

The Splinter in the Sky by Kemi Ashing-Giwa

Space opera. Enitan just wants to live a quiet life in the aftermath of a failed war of conquest, but when her lover is killed and her sister kidnapped, she's forced to leave her plans behind to save her sister.

Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: The City We Became (Great Cities duology) by N.K. Jemisin, The Lesson by Cadwell Turnbull, The A.I. Who Loved Me by Alyssa Cole

#nella talks books #lagoon #nubia the awakening #the scourge between stars #xenogenesis #midnight robber #rosewater #do you dream of terra two? #the best of all possible worlds #mirage #an unkindness of ghosts #where it rains in color #escaping exodus #chain gang all stars #parable of the sower #binti #war girls #the space between worlds #the fifth season #the women could fly #the prey of gods #the summer prince #the blood trials #babel 17 #pet

[rafecameronsmistress]

I Won’t Share You

[description] fem reader x rafe cameron

[summary] your fwb turns jealous

[cw + tw] 18+ CONTENT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, smut, strong language, possessive behavior

[authors note] one can only wish Rafe Cameron becomes jealous over you LOL ✨ feedback & requests always welcome

ADULT CONTENT AHEAD

enjoy 🖤

_____________________________________________

“who’s that?” Rafe asks tipping your phone toward him while he sits in across from you at the restaurant

“no one” your cheeks instantly flush as you lock your phone

“no really, who is it? must be someone important if they feel the need to text you a hundred times in a row” he rolls his eyes turning himself to the side in his chair

he shouldn’t care, he said he wouldn’t, he knew what this was before it ever started

we’re friends that have sex, no strings attached

Rafe sits in silence watching the basketball game on the TV at the bar completely ignoring your existence

you pull out your phone since he doesn’t want to entertain you, you had 3 texts from some boy you met at the last bonfire, he’s asking to hang out

right now anything is better than getting the cold shoulder from Rafe, you reply to the text, not realizing the giant smile that’s been painted across your face

“what are you smiling about?” he scoffs

“nothing”

“who is he?”

“oh my god Rafe, why do you even care?” your words slicing through his ears

“why do i care y/n, really?” his eyes grow wide “grab your shit we’re leaving” he says standing up and finishing the rest of his drink

“you can leave, i’ll get picked up” you say sternly in attempt to get under his skin knowing damn well you’re leaving with him

“ohhhhh okay so it’s like that now?” he adjusts his hat nodding his head in annoyance “well, you tell your little boyfriend if i ever catch you two together i’m going to fucking kill him” he laughs to himself walking out of the restaurant

you look around slightly embarrassed at how many people just witnessed that, witnessed someone who said he’d never date you.. get jealous over another guy

you would’ve dated Rafe, you would’ve said yes a million times but he’s the one that didn’t want a relationship and you were okay with it

you trail behind him to the truck hopping in the passenger seat

the tension is so thick in the air you could cut it with a knife “my boyfriend is on his way i figured i could just hang with you til he gets here” you joke trying to lighten the mood

“yeah, ha-ha real funny” Rafe mocks, starting his truck “put on your seatbelt” he takes off

you hide your smile, you’ve never seen Rafe like this, jealous, and you like it

“so say i did have a boyfriend-“ you tease

he cuts you off “will you shut up already?”

“is Rafe Cameron jealous?” you say taking his free hand into yours

he pulls the truck over on the side of the road, the dust kicks up behind the tires

“no, i’m not jealous, i just don’t want to hear about you with other guys” he sneers

“that’s exactly what jealous means” you laugh

“lose the attitude” he says raising his eye brows at you

“don’t have one” you kiss his hand

he pulls the truck back onto the road making his way toward your house

your driveway is lit up, your parents aren’t home

undoing your seatbelt to get out Rafe grabs your wrist “so are you going to tell me who was texting you?” he asks

and at the worst time possible you get a call from “Jake (bonfire)”

you look down at your phone and back at Rafe “nope, gotta go” you say hopping down from the truck and running to your front door

before you can get the it unlocked he catches up to you taking you by the shoulders and turning your back to the door

he towers over you with his hand on the door frame, just the way you like it

“give me your phone” he demands

“absolutely not” you shake your head “why are you acting like this? like a jealous boyfriend?”

“i already told you, i’m not jealous”

“yeah totally no jealousy at all” you say sarcastically

the cool summer night breeze flows over your skin, you shiver a bit

“my parents aren’t home, come inside and we can talk”

you open the front door and he follows you to your bedroom, he kicks off his shoes and lays in your bed facing the wall

you take off your sandals and change into an oversized tee, you get into bed, sitting up next to him

“clearly we need to have a conversation” you say

Rafe stays silent, his back toward you

you grab his shoulder making him look at you “hello.. are you going to say anything or?”

“i dont know what you want me to say” he vocalizes “we agreed that whatever this is between us is only sex and that’s totally fine with me”

“Rafe” you drop your head to the side knowing he’s lying “talk to me”

another long bout of silence

he sits up against your head board “i dont know what’s wrong with me, us just having sex has been fine this whole time but after last weekend when i saw you talking to that kid at the bonfire and then i saw him text you a million times tonight at dinner” he shakes his head “i dont like it, it’s driving me crazy, i know we’re not supposed to catch feelings but-“ he pauses “i can’t share you, i won’t share you”

you’ve been dying to hear this for a long time, you would’ve accepted just being fuck buddies for the rest of your life but there was always a glimmer of hope somewhere in your heart that prayed Rafe wanted more

you crawl onto his lap straddling him, you take his face into your hands “you don’t have to share me” his eyes widen and a smile breaks across his lips “yeah?” he asks, you nod your head

“so i can do this?” he dips his head into your neck giving you a love bite, you nod your head, “and this?” he sucks hard on the same spot leaving his mark

one of the rules was no hickeys, no leaving marks because we didn’t belong to each other

you moan feeling his lips kiss and nip your neck for the first time

his hands travel to your ass and he squeezes “all mine” he kisses your jaw “no one else’s”

you melt listening to his voice, your head falls back as he explores your body

he slides your shirt up and over your head and cups your breasts “and these are mine” he kisses the top of each one “and these” he brings his mouth to your nipple giving it a quick swirl with his tongue

“Rafe” you whimper

he lays you on your back, pulling your underwear off

hovering over you his necklace dangles in your face, he kisses you and then your forehead before disappearing below your waist

Rafe spreads your legs and lowers his face toward your heat “this is all mine, this pussy is mine” he asserts before licking the length of your slit, your hips hitch into his mouth, he kisses your clit before circling with his tongue

“fuck” you moan breathlessly

he lightly laughs then continues to suck and swirl your throbbing bundle of nerves

he pushes his middle and ring finger into your cunt, slowly pumping them in and out matching the rhythm of his tongue

“oh god- dont stop-“ you beg, your tight hole clenching his fingers

he stops right before you orgasm, you let out a frustrated cry

“i’ll make you cum, don’t worry” he wipes his face “grab your phone”

“why?” you ask

“i want you to take a video”

“okay”

you press record and watch him make love to your clit, sliding his fingers back in

the tingling sensation building in your stomach

he looks up at you, still finger fucking you

“who’s pussy is this?” he smiles

“it’s you-“ he slides another finger in, you lose your breath

“who’s is it baby?” staring directly into the camera

“it’s yours” you whine “it’s your Rafe” your head falls back onto your pillow, you’re still recording him

“that’s right, it’s mine” he breaks eye contact with the camera and indulges in your sex

his tongue flicks rapidly at your clit, his fingers caressing your sweet spot

you moan loudly, your hips pushing into his face

“i’m cumming please don’t stop” you cry

euphoria washes over your body, your legs tremble, small whimpers escape your lips

Rafe takes the phone from your shaky hands and points the camera at himself, he wipes his mouth and smiles, then stops recording

he lays next to you and holds you while you come down, he pushes hair from your face and places gentle kisses all over

“you sure you wanna be my girl?” he asks running his fingers up and down your arm

“mhm” you nod, barely able to speak

“do me a favor?” the tone in his voice changes “give me your phone”

you’re still trying to recover, your brain fogged from an intense orgasm

you hand him your phone, he goes to your text messages with Jake “aaaaaand send” he laughs

“RAFE” you say in shock snapping out of your daze

“he needs to know not to fuck with what’s mine” he grabs your face and kisses you hard “and you’re mine”

#fanfic #obx fanfiction #outer banks #fem reader #obx smut #smut #rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #outer banks smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe smut

[strangethings-everywhere]

Beautiful Ruins // Royal!Dean x Knight!George AU // Ch.3

Masterlist Ch.1 // Ch.2

Wordcount: 1414 Warnings: cursing, dean tries to fight everyone Author’s note: hello lads i’ve returned from war

---

Dean and George continued to spar for what felt like hours, the adrenaline coursing through their veins like a drug. Dean couldn’t remember feeling that happy in years. Being the crown prince, the only friends he could remember having were the knights who were assigned to him and the young dignitaries who visited. 

He was so lonely, but he loved the feeling of having a friend. Was this what being normal felt like?

“George?” Dean glanced over at the other boy. The two of them had just finished another match and were lying next to each other on the grass. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you my friend?” 

George scoffed, turning to look at Dean. “Of course I am. What kind of foolish question is that?” 

Dean felt his face heat up. “I just… I’ve never had a friend before.” He absentmindedly ran his fingers through the grass. “It’s just new, that’s all.” 

George was quiet, his blue eyes studying Dean with new curiosity. Dean refused to meet the other boy’s eyes, his face flushed. 

“Dean, are you a knight?”

“What?” 

“Are you,” George sat up cross-legged, twirling strands of grass in his fingers, “a knight?”  

Dean closed his eyes with a sigh. He didn’t want to tell George who he was, but he knew that there were holes in his story. He also knew that if George was truly on his way to being a knight, he would eventually find out about all of Dean’s lies. On the other hand, he knew that their relationship, as new as it was, would completely change if George found out he was royalty. He still had no idea how George didn’t already know, but he’d do anything to keep this comfortable dynamic they had. 

“I mean, what else would I be doing here?” Dean answered weakly. It was truly the worst excuse he could offer and he wished he could sink into the ground. You absolute moron. 

“You just don’t fight, y’know, like a knight.” George began picking at a cut on his forearm. “At least not like anyone I’ve ever trained with. You’ve got fancier footwork.” He smirked. “And your clothes are nicer.” 

“They’re just clean,” Dean mumbled. He was sure his face was blazing red. 

“What I’m trying to say is that you’re hiding something and I wanna know what.” George rolled onto his back again. “Especially if you can get me some lessons with whoever taught you how to fight.” 

Dean groaned. “George, I have to tell you something.”

“I was right!”

“Shut up.” Dean sat up and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m-”

“YOUR HIGHNESS!” The loud voice of Lord Christopher echoed across the courtyard, bringing Dean to his feet. The sallow paleness of his father’s advisor was just visible in the archways leading into the castle. He looked upset, as usual. 

“Your Highness…” George finally made the connection as he looked back and forth between Dean and Lord Christopher, his eyes wide. “Don’t tell me… you’re not-” 

“We’ll talk about this later. I’m being summoned.” Dean pulled George to his feet. “Thank you for today and for last night. Don’t hate me.” 

Before George could answer him, Dean grabbed his sword and walked away. He felt his hands begin to shake, the grip around his sword tightening. As he approached Lord Christopher, the gnawing anger returned to him.

“You better have a good fucking reason for this.” He hissed. 

“Of course my prince. Your father has requested your presence.” Lord Christopher looked down at him with an amused curl of his lips. “I do hope that I haven’t interrupted anything.” 

“Fuck off.” Dean snarled. He shoved past the man and practically ran towards his father’s quarters. 

His father had a private war room where he spent most of his time, accompanied only by Lord Christopher and the servants who aided and fed him. Dean tried to avoid his father at all costs, but he knew that the war room was the only place his father would see him. 

Dean reached the thick oak double doors in a matter of minutes. He shoved past the guards and practically stumbled into the room, panting hard. “Father!”

His father, the King, turned slowly to face him, his expression one of immense disappointment at the sight of his eldest son and heir. The only feature shared between father and son was their body type: King Henry was tall and strong, built to be a warrior. Dean was built like his father, like a knight, but still hadn’t reached his height. He looked too much like his mother, with his lighter hair and cerulean eyes. His father was dark grey hair and haunted hazel eyes. His father was war and always had been. His mother, the late Queen Ophelia, had been sunshine personified and an angel to all. 

Henry hadn’t deserved her. Dean hated him. 

“Hello, son. I thought you’d never show.” Henry held out his arms to Dean as if he wanted to embrace him. Dean didn’t move, his arms crossed. “Drink with me?” Henry moved towards a pitcher of wine. 

“I’m alright thanks.” 

“Oh, I’ve heard. How’s the hangover?” His father handed him a goblet anyway, his grin malicious. “Don’t look so surprised, of course I know about your nightly escapades. How else do you think you’re getting out of the castle so easily?”

Dean’s heart dropped to his shoes. He thought he’d had this one solitary thing, this one secret from his father. What he thought was his sliver of freedom had never really been his. It made sense; his life had never really been his. Everything he had belonged to his father.

“I-I…”

“Speak up boy!” Henry bellowed, slamming his goblet on the table with a bang. Dean flinched, his hands shaking. 

“I didn’t think you knew.” It took all of Dean’s concentration to keep his voice steady. His comment only made his father laugh. 

“Of course I did! Do you think I’d let my son,” another bang of the goblet, “my heir, wander the streets unsupervised?” Dean could smell the alcohol on Henry’s breath. “Especially this close to your birthday. Especially this close to your first command.”

Dean almost laughed. His father didn’t care about his birthday. He only cared that Dean was about to go to war, this time in a position of power. 

“How did you know I got drunk?” Dean asked. 

“I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere, but I had a special pair of eyes on you last night.” Henry wiggled his eyebrows. “A companion of sorts.” 

“Did you pay a prostitute to spy on me?!” Dean snapped. Henry broke into a deep belly laugh, wine spilling onto the floor. 

“No, no.” He wiped tears from his eyes, a few drunk giggles escaping as he grinned at Dean. “Even better.” 

The guards knocked at the door and Henry called for them to enter. Dean slowly turned, his blood roaring in his ears. 

George stood in the doorway, dressed in the dark coat and trousers of His Majesty’s Private Guard. His blond hair, which had been messy not thirty minutes beforehand, was clean and styled out of his face. He was wearing shiny black boots and his black gloves bore the royal coat of arms. 

He was a fucking knight. Not only that, he was part of the King’s inner circle of knights, his most elite. 

Dean’s world seemed to blur. He could hear his father laughing in the background but it sounded like he was underwater. George’s mouth was moving, but Dean could barely hear him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

Before he could stop himself, Dean knocked George off his feet with a swipe of his leg. He heard someone draw their sword and he didn’t realize it was him until he saw the tip of his blade at George’s throat. 

“Dean…” George’s voice was calm, soft. It made Dean so fucking angry. 

“You lied to me.” Dean’s hands were shaking, hot tears spilling down his cheeks. That gnawing feeling was eating his insides, taunting him. He wanted to spill blood, he wanted to kill someone. 

“Dean.” His father’s voice made him spin around, sword raised. His father hit the flat of the blade with a powerful blow of his fist and the sword fell out of Dean’s grip. “George is your protection. I’ve assigned him to you.”

“What?” His brain was so jumbled that he could barely comprehend what his father was saying.

“He’s following you to war.” 

#george mackay #dean charles chapman #george mackay imagines #dean charles chapman imagines #george mackay x dean charles chapman #royal au #royal!dean #knight!george

[lovelyjj]

ESCAPE

jj maybank x reader - she/her pronouns are used

2,031 words

request: Hi! could you please write one where JJ hides the truth ( that his dad hits him) from yn and one day she goes to his house to get him and meets luke and she very nice but he says mean things to her and maybe punches and shoves her but then JJ comes and then they go to their secret tree house end up falling asleep there and the others are looking for them and eventually finds them extra fluff pls!

thank you @luv-xoxo for requesting and i hope it’s similar to what you wanted!

** super small bits of the dialogue and scenes are from S1:E7 **

WARNINGS: **PHYSICAL ABUSE!!, violence, fighting, blood, language, angst to fluff, please do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable or are triggering!!

(not my gif creds to original owner)

The thing about JJ Maybank is that most people or mainly most authority figures and law enforcement would see and describe him as trouble or a rule breaker. That he was destined to end up just like where he came from.

You and your friends however, the people that really knew him, understood that that was not his true self. He was loyal, and the kind of person that would do absolutely anything for his friends. The kind of person that would take the fall for Pope sinking a kooks boat, knowing he would be punished instead.

Although this was a admirable trait it didn't always work out for JJ. He felt the need to make sure his friends never saw him break, or need help so they could not be in the position to fill his shoes and get hurt on his behalf. He wouldn't want the pity or guilt. Weather he could help it or not he felt as if he didn't deserve that. He figured that he would always remain strong for you and the pogues.

Therefore, with the intention to protect his girlfriend, he failed to mention the abuse he endures from his dad, leaving you in the dark.

———

You and the pogues were supposed to meet at John Bs house this afternoon. You wanted to check on JJ since you haven't heard from him in a while, figuring you can go to John Bs together.

Assuming his whereabouts was at his house, as he wasn't with your friends you decided to go over.

What you didn't expect was a man sitting outside on the porch, with a open bottle of beer working on a motor.

He lifted his head when he heard the crunching of the branches beneath your feet. "Oh hi you must be JJs dad, I'm y/n." you spoke softly, smiling. "I um, was just wondering if you knew where he was?"

He threw his tools down on the table, "that piece of shit ain't here," he grunted. "hell, i don't even care if he dares come back."

Your mouth dropped open, shocked at his statement. You felt a twist in your stomach and your chest felt tight. The atmosphere around you suddenly felt uncomfortable to be in. You wanted to stand up for JJ but it came out weak, "what-what do you mean?"

Luke was standing up now, walking near you, "who are you anyway? one of his whores?"

Your whole body froze, although your blood felt hot through your veins. You simply stared wide eyed and struck with fear.

His hand was coming at your shoulder giving you a push, "you gonna answer me bitch?"

Luke looked ready to take his anger out on you, but a loud rumble prevented this from partaking and broke his attention.

JJ was driving his dirt bike zipping down the lawn. He threw the vehicle on the ground, his legs carried him almost as fast as his racing heart to get in front of you.

You watched him, holding your breath. He only glanced at you but you saw the worry and fear behind his eyes. JJ saw the scene unfold as he picked up speed on his bike and all he thought about was you being hurt. that his worst nightmare was becoming his reality.

He pushed his father back away from you, "don't fucking touch her!" he spat between punches. "you can't do that." JJ continued to wrestle his dad onto the ground as you sobbed, "yeah beat the shit out of me, but don't you dare go near her. ever again" he huffed.

The tears that collected in his eyes were beginning to fall as he picked up a wrench. "I'm done, I'm not scared of you anymore okay!" JJ hovered the metal wrench over his dad's face, blood on his teeth from when his dad tried to fight back. "you ruined my life! you don't get to ruin my only form of happiness too."

Luke watched as JJ tossed the tool back on the ground and left him groaning on the floor.

JJ quickly went over to you in a flash grabbing your arm and doing his best to get you out of there as quick as possible. "come on, let's go."

You had a million thoughts in your head ready to scream them, but JJ seemed too focused on leaving not in the mood to talk just yet.

He patted the back of his bike indicating for you to get on behind him. You shakily clung on to him as he drove off.

When you arrived at a secluded area, somewhere between the hawks nest and the abandoned church. You carefully got off the bike, as JJ stayed in place staring at the ground.

"JJ" you decided to speak, ever so softly.

"what we're you thinking? you shouldn't have- you can't just- fuck y/n" he ran his hands through his hair.

Both your cheeks were stained with tears as you tried to help him in anyway you could, "J-" you reached for his arm.

He turned and looked at you directly, "no y/n, i mean it. you can't come to my house. you can't just go over there. you can't be near my dad. every time i've shown up with a busted lip and bruised eye it wasn't topper or rafe. I mean sometimes but mostly my dad. you can't just go to my house ok?" he sighed, standing up and pushing his hands up your sides. His eyes were watery again and you felt your whole heart break in half.

You squeezed him sniffling. "I'm sorry" you said, voice muffled by his chest. "why didn't you tell me" you quickly wiped one of your tears that had fallen.

"I-I thought I was protecting you in some way, ya know cause he won't hesitate to do the same to you and I couldn't couldn't risk-"

"hey hey, it's okay." you smushed yourself back into him rubbing his back as you hugged him. "I just want to be there for you. please let me do that. you don't have to go back there."

Breaking away every so slightly, JJ gently held your face. His other arm resting on your neck, he trailed his thumb from your temple all the way down to your chin, stopping there and lifting your face up to look at him. His eyes searched yours, looking for some sign of hesitation or doubt. That now that you saw his wounds, his family scars that you still wanted this, that it didn't make you want to run far away or leave him.

"I-I don't wanna be anywhere else, except for with you." he paused taking a nervous breath, "wanna go escape for a little while?"

You knew where he wanted to take you. The little hideout you both stumbled upon when you first started dating. A secret get away just for the two of you, without the outside world prying in.

With a fatigued smile and heart stuttering, you replied "yeah, we should get going before it gets dark."

Your walk towards your little safe haven was quiet as you appreciated the presence of another. The days events took a toll on you both.

As you walked deeper up your little trail, traveling and aiming to get away, you stopped at a wooden ladder. He let you go up the rickety steps first, reminding you to watch out for the broken one. He took hold of your heal as he went behind you, pushing you through the door.

There was not much in there except for a rug, a mattress, a few blankets and a couple LED candles stolen from your cabinet.

JJ sat down against the tree house wall, taking a breath of relief to be away from all that fighting, and swung his backpack over his lap. You taking your rightful place next to him, leaned your head on his shoulder asking, "you sure you're ok?"

Taking out his lighter, and wrapping a arm around your shoulder, "fine now baby."

“are you okay? did he hurt you?

“I’m fine J, fine.”

———

"Where are they?" Kiara questioned as she turned to Sarah in the kitchen.

"You think something happened to them?" Pope said leaning against the counter. 

"I mean when JJ came over and we told him y/n wasn't here, he looked really worried." Sarah commented.

John B stood up, "come on we can go look for them."

———

You had both settled down, laying on the mattress and looking up at the wooden ceiling. The light from the stars fluttered in from the small window, illuminating the room, as you chose to save the batteries on your candles.

Your fingers were interlaced as you loosely swung your hands side to side. "you know that I'll always love you, right?" you turned your head facing him, wanting him to see the truth behind your eyes as you spoke.

The confession expressed in the lateness of the night, brought a sense of comfort and a much needed moment of tranquility.

JJ felt you breathed life back into him, filling him back up with joy after a horrific series of events.

He brought your hand up and placed it over his heart as he looked down at you, "I know. I love you too y/n, so fucking much."

You smiled as your cheeks warmed as he began to press a series of kisses to the back of your hand.

"Thank you for telling me about your dad." you whispered. Your heart already started clenching and you felt your stomach drop of the thought of this again. Your favorite human going through all this alone for who knows how long. "you don't deserve that."

He nodded. Then he tugged at your hand pulling your body closer to him as he buried his face in your chest. Your legs intertwined and you threaded your fingers through his hair. You told him that it's ok, that he's safe, that your safe and continued to whisper soothing thoughts and words of praise.

"JJ" you said a little louder but still in a hushed tone. He only gave a small hum response. His limbs were tired and heavy. He was perfectly fine staying here for the rest of his days. He became finally relaxed under your touch.

"do you think they'll be wondering where we are?" you asked. As you never did turn up to the meeting with the other pogues like you said you would.

"they'll live" he mumbled causing you to giggle.

The both of you let slumber overtake you, wrapped up in each others embrace.

———

The Twinkie slowed down as Kiara shouted, "wait wait stop, That's JJ's bike."

JJ's bike stood leaning against a tree, a little ways away from the road. John B brought the Twinkie to a halt as the crew jumped out.

"Yep, that's definitely JJ's bike" Pope confirmed as the group of friends walked up to the area.

"Then where is he?" Sarah spoke utterly confused.

"Do you think they'd go up here?" Kiara asked pointing to the tiny trail behind a bush.

"Might as well look" John B said already making his way down over to the path.

When they arrived at the end of the trail with a surrounding patch of trees they all seemed to be impressed.

"How come we never seen or herd of this." Kiara furrowed her eyebrows looking at the mini house up on a huge tree.

"dunno" John B muttered as he started climbing the ladder.

"bet their up there" Sarah smirked.

The pogues all followed John B up the steps and entered the little porch. Pope opened the door and they all peaked their heads in.

As much as they wanted to tease the hell out of their friends, their little hearts were so happy to see their best buds in love. They were safe and sound surrounded with fluffy blankets and sandwiched together.

"aw look at them"

"ooh very cozy"

"see their perfectly fine. they would never let anything happen to each-other."

"so cute"

"guys! you'll wake them up, let's go!"

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #outer banks #obx #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #pogues #obx fanfiction #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank angst #jj outer banks #jj obx #outer banks jj maybank #outer banks fanfiction #jj obx imagine #obx imagine #jj x reader #jj outer banks x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank headcanons #jj maybank obx #outer banks pogues #jj maybank outer banks #obx x reader #jj maybank fic #jj x y/n #jj x you

[rcksmith]

Be mine — Roman Godfrey

Requests: “Helloo, I would like to request an imagine of roman Godfrey with smut prompt 28”

“Hii, omg I lover your work!! Can you do fluff prompts 45 and 59 and smut prompts 32 whit Roman Godfrey? Thank you, love💖”

Fluff prompts:

45. “where have you been all my life?”

59. “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

Smut prompts:

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

32. “I’m going to show you what a real fucking is.”

A/N: I was excited about these request for Roman, I loved it. I hope you guys like.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Roman Godfrey/ Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Swearing, explicit smut, NSFW, degradation, dirty talk and also fluff too.

— — — — —

The big white and airy room tried to show a soothing and safe energy, the light tones contrasted with the golden rays of the sun outside and could even try to show a lyrical vibe. Could, if not for everything else.

It was hard to pinpoint the source that messed up that whole idea of ​​peace that the colors on the walls had, but maybe it was because Godfrey Industries was... oblique, mysterious, sinister. There was something in the air, a dark breeze that echoed all the floors of that gigantic building, bringing the feeling that something was out of place. It was, at times, disconcerting. Like looking at a perfect painting but knowing that something is out of place. Or to witness the seconds of frightening calm before a major disaster. But as the months went by, you had to get used to it and adapt to it. Your daydreams wandered far away. You wondered what you were doing there, in that country town that also had that sinister energy.

Why you left Los Angles? Okay, did you know why. After finishing college, you sent out resumes to as many companies as you could. Its from that time when you realize that adult life has knocked on the door and that the cost of living in California was too high. The plan, when you left home to pursue your dream and go to college in another state, was to get a job as soon as possible. But some things got out of your control, and when you realized it, you had graduated and you didn't have enough money to come up with second plans.

So, when the multinational Godfrey Industries called you after an interview and gave you the job, you didn't hesitate. The salary was too good for a international negotiations assistant, and after a while you could breathe easier, and be able to straighten out your financial life and have a better resume to be able to get back to a big city.

It was a good plan, a rational plan. You were proud of that. But it was logical that too much confidence was accompanied by some ruin.

And its ruin came under the name of Roman Godfrey.

Roman was swallowed all the air in any the room when he entered, as if its imposing presence subdued any environment. Everything about him exuded the same objective: to conquer, to possess, to win. He was the Trojan army. But the worst and the most dangerous was not his difficult personality, but how you felt close to him. How his presence caused side effects on you.

He was absolutely gorgeous. It should be considered illegal for someone to have that appearance, that voice, that sinisterly penetrating look. You felt that Roman Godfrey had the aura of intense and exciting music, like the song of danger.

He was the personification of sin, and you were being tested by the universe.

The trinity of what could be a gigantic disaster was completed when, a few months ago, Roman started testing you, joining the universe in what appeared to be a plan to slaughter your sanity.

It was your first meeting with the Company a few weeks after you was hired. Adam, the director of the international negotiations sector, for whom you are an assistant, asked you to bring all the documents of the process and remain in the meeting. It was about an international multi who wanted to buy some equipment from Godfrey Industries, but who were working hard to try to close deals at a lower price.

As you handed a copy of the negotiation to each sector director in that room, you felt a pair of eyes burning the back of your neck the whole time, like your shadow. The caustic sensation ruffled all the hair on the back of your neck, snaking from head to toe and made you search the environment behind the author.

That's when you finding him.

Roman had the green irises stuck to you like a tattoo on your skin. As if unraveling all your secrets, your sins, virtues and all your thoughts. It was intense, magnetic... dangerous.

You felt the white walls of that room were embraced by a black and dark shadow, and the air became thin. Then he smiled. A smug and arrogant little smile. The kind who won a battle.

It had been the beginning of a sequence of events. Roman began to request and make sure that you were present at all meetings, negotiations, cases, even when your presence added much more to your professional knowledge than to contribute to the resolution of company problems. At that time the order was still not directed at you, Adam just told you that Godfrey wanted you at meetings.

It was strange, atypical, almost surreal. You used to go into the conference room and look directly at Roman, frowning in silent questioning at him. But he never gave you an answer. He just gave that smug smile and turned his attention to the big screen in the living room.

This happened five times before Roman sent to tell you that he wanted to see you in his office.

“But why?!" You frowned at Adam.

The man looked at you for a second before shrugging.

“Your work has been impeccable, I think he just wants to give you more things to do.” Adam kept his eyes on the documents themselves.

"But you are my boss.” Sometimes you had a habit of saying what you thought without considering the consequences.

Your mother and your friends said that you had a total inability to hide what you felt, to be someone reserved or shy. You were almost always the person who said everything you felt.

Adam laughed softly, already used to your personality and turned his eyes to you.

“And he is my boss."

You restrained yourself from rolling your eyes. The truth was, you didn't want to find him. Roman puzzled you, messed with your system. And after those 5 meetings without explaining why you were there, you started to want to avoid his presence.

But apparently the universe was not on your side this time.

You got up and excused yourself, listening to your own heels echoing down the hall before entering the elevator and pressing the last button. Going to Godfrey's office.

Anxiety coursed through your veins like overwhelming electricity, making you sway on your heels and stir your fingers.

What did he want with you? Had you done something? Was he crazy?

You sucked in the air hard, shrugging your shoulders to relax when the door opened up. You walked for a while before stopping at Roman's office and knocking on the door with your finger.

“Come in." The voice made your heart skip a few beats.

You walked in, closing the door behind you and laying your eyes on the tall, slender figure who was sitting behind the table, dressed in black pieces and a small smile.

“Did you want to see me, Mr.Godfrey ?"

Maybe it was your imagination or your nervousness that was seeing things in between lines, but you could have sworn that Roman breathed harder after you said his last name.

You stopped in front of his desk, too agitated to sit on the chair.

“Yes, Darling.” He stood up, getting much bigger than you, even though your feet were in a 10 cm heel.

Roman fished a file on the table itself, bypassing the table and coming menacingly close to you. He stood in front of you again, his hip against the table and leaning there, holding out the file for you. You took seconds longer than you would like to pick up the papers, Roman's left leg was dangerously close to yours, the knee almost brushing your thigh covered by the black skirt.

“I need it ready by night."

That's when you came out of the trance, picking up the folder and staring at the amount of stuff there. It was a process about an agreement with a company in Asia, and it was so bureaucratic that it would take up your entire time. And you already had a million things for do.

“But...” You were about to start talking, but Roman moved away from the edge of the table, his chest hovering over yours.

You have never felt so small, so fragile and so vulnerable in your life. You had to lift your chin to face him straight.

“You are going to be a good girl and bring me this tonight.” It was not a request. “You will, right?”

Your common sense or decorum had gone somewhere. Maybe was lost in your own stupidity. The oxygen evaporated from your lungs. And before you could think of something diplomatic and good to say. Because you were not dumb. You heard yourself say:

“Yes, Mr. Godfrey.”

Fucking hell!

“Great.” He gave you a rewarding smile.

From that moment on events like this became routine. In fact, you tried to mask that you liked it, that it wasn't extremely unprofessional, that he was not only your boss, but also the owner of the entire company. Over time you learned to deal with him too, Roman was never brazen or touched you, he would drop some ‘Dear’ or ‘Pretty’ over and over here for you, but, truth be told, you didn’t get uncomfortable.

Perhaps it was your feminine vanity. You didn't want to be selfish, but having a man like Roman Godfrey praise you did wonders for your feminine vanity. You felt absurdly beautiful. He made you feel like the personification of the Female Fatal, and you liked that. So you would roll your eyes at him and give him some jokes smiles in his direction whenever these things happened.

You did not deny it, but you also do not return any praise.

Over the months you had practically become more of an assistant to Roman than to Adam. He kept you getting bogged down with things to do and telling Adam to pass on your old duties to any other goddamn person.

“They accept to close if they have had 30% of the profits.” You put your cell phone down to talk to Roman, who had his hip against the desk work and an open file in his hands.

“They must be stupid” he rolled his eyes “10% and I will still be being generous.”

You went back to your call, your eyes fixed on the top view of the city as you settled the deal.

“I can get them to close by 15% if we send the equipment by tomorrow.” You said to Roman again, plugging the cell phone microphone with your other hand “But it has to be send until the morning. Not next.”

Roman smiled broadly and satisfied, nodding his head in ‘Yes’ as you turned your attention to the city view and finished the negotiation. You were getting the details right when you felt a presence behind you, the heat radiating for your back and making you lose your breath for a second. You swallowed and tried to ignore something vibrating in your core, disconnecting the call as soon as you closed the deal.

“What would I do without you?” Roman's voice blew at the top of your ear, his ghostly touch fanning your skin.

You laughed to try to hide how much your core pulsed, turning around enough to face his completely.

"I don't know, you would have already lost four contracts.” You tried to joke, but he was absurdly close.

The scent of a man and an expensive cologne swallowed you like a wave and dragged you into the sea, drowning you. The emerald green eyes were fixed on you, as if they swallowed you.

“You could work for me.” Godfrey let go, taking another step closer to you.

Instinctively, you took a step back, your back finding the cold glass behind you and trapping you between the cold sensation and the absurd warmth of the man.

"I already work for you.” You said it as if it were obvious, letting out a nervous laugh and trying to clean up how much your uterus vibrated now.

“No, you work more with Adam.” He rolled his eyes, his hand now resting on your hip, rising to your waist like a snake “I speak of you being my assistant, being here when I arrive, spending the all days with me.”

Your heart screamed, your pussy throbbed so hard that if Roman hadn't paid attention to you, you would have bitten your lip.

“Are you flirting with me?”

"You finally noticed?"

There was no way to deny to yourself that you had already reached your share of perverted dreams with Roman Godfrey. He was like an addiction! It was unbearable how present he was always in your head, playing with your sanity, making you think of how those absurdly long fingers would fuck you so well, how those impeccable clothes hid a maddening body.

And that was exactly why you couldn't be him assistant.

If it was already overwhelmingly difficult to occasionally remain in him presence without diverting your thoughts, every day would be impossible. All the time. You would end up having to resign your job after, because any involvement between you would not result in a happy ending. Aside from being extremely unethical, it would end up destroying your heart, and God, you needed the job!

"M-Mr Godfrey." You tried to speak, touching his chest with the palm of your hand with the intention of gently pushing him away.

But the shot backfired. He was cold. Absurdly cold. Cold that makes you want to warm up, an addictive, that intoxicates you. Suddenly, you are already wondering if other parts of it would be cold too.

Would the kiss contain the beauty and temperature of the snow? When Roman entered you, would he be consumed by the heat of your needy walls? He Would it stick to you like a private sun?

“Pretty.” Godfrey sighed against your cheek, dangerously lowering his lips in your direction. “Why not stay with me? Where can I fuck you every day? ”

This time you moaned, a low moan that gave up all of your game. It lit a dangerous, vital fire in Roman's eyes, and him hand, which once touched you softly, now snaked into your waist, pulling you close.

“Do you like to hear that? That I want to fuck you until you scream?” You closed your fingers on him black dress shirt, closing your lip between your teeth to contain a groan.

Roman's mouth went to your neck, pouring wet, surprisingly hot kisses onto your skin.

"Would you like to know that I have imagined fucking you hard for a long time?” His hands went to the hem of your skirt. “That I want to tag you with my cum until you're just mine?"

“Mr.Go-Godfrey!” You moaned loudly, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting your head go back and lean against the glass wall.

“Tell me, Pretty.” He lifted his lips to hover over yours “Tell me you want this as much as I do.”

You frantically ascended your head, letting a 'Yes' leave with a low sob.

Thereafter Roman wasted no time. He pulled you onto his lap by your thighs, placing you under his desk and throwing all objects on the table with one arm. He kissed you. Furiously. He kissed you as if you were his property, as if you were the answer to all his prayers, his divinity. Your mouth opened to get air and Roman took the opportunity to invade with his tongue, hunting you.

You groaned, or he, or both.

"I'm going to show you what a real fucking is." Roman snarled against your mouth, not considering any consequences before popping all the buttons on your shirt with a two-handed tug, making you gasp.

That seemed to bring you back to Earth.

You pulled your chest away from him, and Roman looked up at you with a questioning expression.

“Ro-Roman, this is wrong.” you said.

“You have no idea how much I don’t give a fuck.” He leaned over to kiss you again, extremely excited by the sight of you in a lacy bra, but you averted your face by placing your hands on him chest.

You said. “I'm going to have to resign this job later if I do it, and I need the job.”

Romam snorted, straightening up again.

“Who says you need to resign? Did you forget that I am the owner of this crap?” He brought his lips to your neck once more, and you sighed softly “Be mine. Be mine."

“I don’t know.”

Romam held your face in his hands, in a gentle touch, which clashed absurdly with the lush fire in his eyes.

“I don't want to fuck you because you work here, but because I think you're fucking beautiful.” He said “Be mine, and if you don't want anything to do with me afterwards, that's okay, let's keep working normally.” Roman moved closer, his voice hitting your mouth “Let me fuck this hot pussy, I'm sure you'll want more later. And I will give you everything you want.”

So you gave in. You kissed him fiercely, spreading your legs wider and settling them between them, letting the skirt roll to pile on your hips and exposing lace panties. Roman reaching down to your back and removing your bra, dropping your mouth over your left breast when it was exposed.

You moaned loudly, throwing your head back, curling your fingers in his hair and sighing when Godfrey moved his fingers down the middle of your legs. You whimpered, rummaging around in his hand for some friction, needy and needy.

Roman laughed arrogantly against your breast: “Such a needy little thing, aren't you?” He took a bite out of your left beak as he walked away to remove his belt.

You groaned, your eyes on fire, your body hot and needy. And that's when Roman looked at you. A hot fucking woman half naked at his table, so beautiful and perfect that it was almost a sin. He wanted to be able to record that scene forever. You were perfect. He thought you were extraordinarily perfect.

Then he rushed ferociously at you again, his hands wrapped around your hot body as he moaned on your lips: "Where have you been all my life?"

You gasped, finishing the job of his belt and pants, fighting a battle with his tongue.

“Waiting for this moment.” You provoked it with a sensual chuckle, nibbling on his lower lip.

Roman shared your sly smile, tearing at your panties and holding his own dick in your direction. You moaned louder this time, in need, lowering your hands to his hips and rolling around his waist, trying to get closer.

Roman laughed, sinking his mouth into yours and also plunging his dick into yours smooth folds.

You screamed out loud, clasping your body to his while Roman put an arm around your waist, gluing your body to his and hitting the stick at the end of the well, drawing out a loud groan from both of you. The environment was filled with moaning and pornographic sounds, the table rattling beneath you as the things that were left on top now fell completely. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clenching your nails at the back of your neck as you wrapped your legs around Roman's hips, pulling him further into you and swallowing him completely.

“Holy fuck!” He snarled, lowering his mouth to meet your neck and shoulder, closing his teeth there as he demanded more force in his movements.

Godfrey beat without mercy, without pause, conquering and proclaiming his every piece of your body as his own. You could no longer control your moans, all the sensations exploded inside you like nuclear bombs and pleasure and pain curved all your lines of reasoning. You laid your back on the table, your breasts jumping with the speed and strength of him movements, while Roman clasped his hands on your waist and set a brighter pace as he pulled you onto his dick and propelled your hips at you.

“So fuck hot slut!” He growled, never stopping the pace.

You shouted something that looked like him name, and threw your head back when the orgasm invaded your system, shaking your legs and pulling him deeper. Roman moaned loudly, squeezing your flesh so tightly that it would leave marks tomorrow, while he cum inside you, spilling all the hot liquid on your barriers.

You were sweaty and panting, but Roman didn't give you a second to breathe and process the situation until he leaned over to you, still inside your core, and kissed your right breast, dropping one:

“Dinner at my place tomorrow?”

You laughed, still very airy, and agreed, overcome by tiredness.

“Okay, Godfrey.” Roman gave you another lunge of teasing, making your laugh mix with a groan.

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #Roman Godfrey x you #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård x reader #Roman Godfrey x y/n #hemlock grove #Hemlock Grove x reader #bill skarsgård imagine #roman godfrey imagine #Roman Godfrey icons #smut #Hemlock Grove smut #willard russell

[wh6res]

dreams come true | yuta

"soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks." — ny

[ part of the my bloody valentine collection ]

tw. gore, blood, murder, death, killings, mentions of illegal organ trafficking, violence, mentions of stalking, minor character deaths, weapons (a knife and a gun), almost (??) suggestive content but nothing happened

disc. this is rlly fucked up and yuta is unredeemable. i dont condone such acts. this is all a work of fiction and meant to entertain.

wc. 5k

every time you sleep, the void is sickening. it was all you could see, lightyears and lightyears away of pitch black that made your head dizzy and your stomach dry heave. you've always wondered when you'll start dreaming about your soulmate's memories. they were like little secrets, another way for two people to be intimate without even being together. their days were flashing before their soulmate's eyes in the form of a dream. it's as if you spent the day with them!

you loved it, the whole concept of it. it sounded so wholesome and sweet and jesus fucking christ, you've always been such a hopeless romantic.

it was sweet until it turned sour. you loved it until you hated it. it was romantic until it turned downright terrifying.

you wake up covered in cold sweat, panting and gasping as if you've run a whole marathon.

moonlight seeps through your glass window, slightly left ajar for the midnight breeze to pass through – you walk up to it, pull it shut, and draw your thick curtains together. you exhaled, breath shaking as you tried to anchor yourself back to the ground.

with the only source of your light disappearing, darkness envelops you whole. for once, you craved the void. you want that void back if it meant never seeing something like that again – something straight out of your worst nightmare.

"119, what's your emergency?"

"uhm, i think… i think i just witnessed a massacre."

you reiterate everything you saw in the dream – the mahogany door, paint chipping off the drywalls. the doorknob was rusty, so were the hinges, and it made an ominous creak when pushed open. the light switches on, the first you see was a bunch of dirty ice coolers in what should've been the living room, it wasn't even the slightest bit organized. they were everywhere, and the floor looked grimy and disgusting, like there's a stain they can't seem to scrub off. only when your soulmate has stalked closer did you see the labels haphazardly taped on top of the ice coolers.

kidneys. livers. lungs. pancreas. intestines – you nearly vomited on the floor, trying to relay everything you saw to the operator on the other end of the call.

then came the gruesome parts.

their deaths.

they were five people in total. men clad in cheap t-shirts and pants, wearing all these similar leather jackets. some were well-built, ripped in the arms and thighs, but some were skinny, the jackets hanging on their small frames.

they never stood a chance against him.

your soulmate is agile, quick on his feet with outstanding eye-hand coordination. only equipped with a butcher's knife, but it was all he needed to take them down and send them knocking on inferno's gates. he was skilled, knowing when to pounce and where to slash his knife to maim but never to kill. by the time your soulmate was through with them, everything is bloody red. all the victims' eyes widened as they sputtered and choked on their blood – not dead, but dying...

because your soulmate wasn't done yet.

a killer should have a modus operandi, should they not? so he took out a desert eagle, stood before the bleeding bodies, and shot two bullets straight into their eyes. the finishing touch? carving a frown on their faces with his butcher's knife.

the operator only told you one thing after she's made you describe the place for them to track the crime scene down.

"double-check all your windows and doors."

because you couldn't be too sure, not when you have been granted a front seat to the sad face slayer's most recent endeavors.

the detective eyes you with a certain pity. maybe that's why you don't bother meeting his eyes. you sit still on a chair, camera blinking red behind him, the interrogation room is freezing even with the thick jacket you're wearing.

seven billion people in the world and you're soulmate's a ruthless serial killer who took it upon himself to purge the world of evildoers – he was playing god, no wonder the detective is looking at you like that.

"uhh…" he's awkward, fidgeting in his seat. "and you saw this all in a dream?"

"yes."

you've known him only minutes ago. mark lee was his name and he seems to be a subordinate of a higher, more experienced detective named kim doyoung. you don't know whether to feel offended or not for having a doe-eyed newbie taking care of the case, but you pushed it at the back of your mind, knowing his superior is watching on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"did you have, like, other past instances where you dreamt of him? of what he…" mark looked like he was going to throw up. "what he does to his other victims?"

you shook your head. no. "i've mostly just heard of him on the news. i don't think i have the stomach to find out in-depth what the killer does."

mark takes out a folder, features walking the fine white line between looking apologetic or wanting to say me too. "i'm, uhh, really sorry to hear that."

there's a sudden pregnant silence encapsulating the interrogation room. it felt like you were mourning for something, the chains of dread dragging your heart to the ground as it pounded against your ribcage. mark looked like he wanted to say something, but you swore his eyes darted towards the camera in the corner and decided otherwise.

"anyway…" he trails. flipping the folder open in one swift motion. "past sightings have given us the sad face slayer's name."

he slaps down a picture of a man, his hair raven and a permanent scowl etched on his face. the quality was shitty. it looked like it was a screenshot taken from zoomed-in cctv footage.

"nakamoto yuta, twenty-five, japanese, and has slipped one too many times past authorities that at this point, it's practically a talent."

and just like that, it made sense why you're here.

your lips pursed in contemplation, palms quaking as your fingers reach forward to inspect your soulmate's picture. "and… you want to use my soulmate connection –" you glowered. never had a sentence sounded so fucking cursed and utterly wrong. "– to catch him?"

mark can't look you in the eye. "yes. he's very elusive. his killings have been happening cross-country and, as you can see, have garnered national media attention. the police are hanging by a thread here. a month in his case and all we got is his MO, name, and that he has this weird god complex on him. if we can't catch him by the end of next month…" he shrugs. "the feds are going to interfere, sooner or later."

"so…" you trail, urging him to continue.

"so, we need as much information about him as we can get and your dreams about him will be able to provide that."

fucking great.

the much newer revelations of precisely who it was on the other end of the soulmate connection put a significant damper on your mood. you'd like to think your new little cop buddy who follows you around gives you the least bit sense of security, but alas, it doesn't. not when you've seen first hand how yuta took down five men all at once without breaking a fucking sweat – you absolutely refuse to call him your soulmate, you'd never accept a person with his nature as a soulmate.

you try to hide the bracelet mark handed you last two weeks ago, during your time spent in the precinct's interrogation room.

"please have this on you at all times until we catch him, okay? this is for extra measures, just in case something happens to the cop assigned to guard you. just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?"

considering you're now probably being hunted alive for snitching on a serial killer? mark lee, that was not funny at all.

"do you have to get inside the lecture with me?" you whine, shielding your face with your hair when you notice people shooting glances at the rather handsome cop they assigned to you. "it's not like he'll attack in broad daylight! and in a fucking classroom, for that matter."

jaehyun looks just about ready to hurl you out the window. "lower down your voice," he scolds. "serial killers don't pick a time and place, sweetheart. he kills when necessary and if it's fucking necessary to murder everyone in that classroom to get to you? he'll do it in a fucking heartbeat."

you sigh when the chair next to you screeches against the floor, the aforementioned male taking his seat right next to you. jaehyun felt more like a babysitter than a cop, who seems to have a habit of constantly inputting his not-even-needed opinions on the most superficial things.

are witness protection protocols like this?

it was a good thing that overgrown bat doesn't come hanging around in your apartment, but he does have the police car parked right across the building's entrance. judging by how meticulous and thorough he seems to be, he won't miss any face that comes in and out of the building.

you didn't forget exactly why you're under witness protection. for the cops to waste one good officer to follow you around, you needed to be valuable and being valuable meant sleeping through nightmare-induced dreams of what your soulmate does for a living. the scenes are so gruesome, so graphic and utterly gory, that you dart towards the bathroom first thing after waking up in cold sweat, draining all of dinner down the toilet bowl.

after dreaming of him in action a few times, you've now completely understood what detective lee had said regarding yuta's god complex. it was unsightly, yet there was a twisted sense of heroism to it. if there's one thing, he only gutted the bad guys – but that didn't make nakamoto yuta any less of a bad guy, himself.

i need to ask you a favor [sent 2:05am]

JJH: what? [received 2:10am]

often the nightmares were too much. too much that you thought of escaping its horrors by never getting a wink of sleep ever again – until you realized you're a witness and is probably the only chance for the seoul police department to catch that bastard.

buy me sleeping pills? [read 2:08am]

when you peep out of the window, you find an empty spot across the road where jaehyun usually parks the police car. twenty minutes later, you answer the knocking on your door. he used that little "code" he did for you to know it was him. jaehyun was glowering and muttering about how he wasn't some errand boy when he shoved the plastic bottle in your hand yet, you still thanked him nonetheless.

the pills worked like a charm. you managed to stay asleep throughout the whole night, ceasing those episodes of yours where you jolt awake in the middle of dreaming about the sad face slayer's memories.

life continued for you. it became a little bearable, but that didn't mean the horrific murders you see in your dreams are something you can get used to – you don't think you'll ever get used to the sight of him slashing his victims, the blood trickling like a goddamned waterfall.

today the dreams were different. anticlimactic, per se, if you compare it to the violence so utterly present in his memories.

the first you see were black gates, then it shifted to him ordering coffee in a café (amazing what a simple black mask can hide). it switched to him walking on a sidewalk, then he arrives at his destination, an apartment building – it wasn't too rundown, nor was it extravagant.

the serial killer takes the elevator and walks up to a mahogany door –

your room number is a blaring sight.

you couldn't be wrong, not when the 506 with the missing zero in the middle was a sight you saw every day, going and coming home from university.

that was your front door.

he was at your front door.

you jolt awake, ignoring the icky feel of sweat making your clothes cling onto your skin. ice creeps up your spine and freezes you over when you notice with a sinking realization.

those black gates are from the university you attended. that café is your favorite study nook. and that sidewalk is a route you take every day.

you clamp your hands on your mouth as tears roll down your cheeks in rivulets. you pull the comforters up above your head, fear gripping onto you with a vice-like grip as you sob.

it was in the dead of night, moonlight grazing the confines of your room and hours away from dusk. you finally utter those three words in a frightened whisper.

"he's stalking me."

as if having the overgrown bat jaehyun following and annoying you around wasn't enough, you now have another person keeping watch over you. mark lee, unlike jaehyun, may not be as ripped with muscle, but you heard from your cop buddy that the young detective has a few black belts under him. people at the precinct said that if they have to choose one person who can ever come close to the sad face slayer's agility, mark lee's your guy.

"you gotta be shitting me," you mutter, leaning close to jaehyun to whisper like high school girls talking about gossip. "he doesn't look the type!"

jaehyun, in turn, plays along and copies you. "yeah, true. he gets that a lot, i think,"

"guys, i'm literally in the back seat. i can hear everything."

the change hadn't been too drastic. at least mark was there when jaehyun proved to be difficult, pulling him towards the other way when the older male tried waltzing into your class again. "you don't need to sit next to her in her class! are you serious? there's one exit and entrance and we're on the fifth floor. breaking into that classroom will be the end of nakamoto's serial killer career!"

you shoot mark an appreciative smile, one he quickly returned before hauling jaehyun around the hallway. "we'll just be at the canteen, okay? press the 'lil button on your bracelet and we'll be right there!"

shaking your head with a slight smile on your face, you entered the classroom, sat in your usual spot, and did some of your readings from our other class to kill time. you hardly hear the screech of the chair next to you as it was pulled back. not like you cared much for whoever sat down next to you, but you can't deny there's that feeling of missing jaehyun when he used to force his way into the lecture.

"settle down! settle down, people!"

the professor enters and the class begins.

you were meticulous with your note-taking system. it's thorough, leaving no room for information to slip you. having already printed hard copies of the powerpoint presentation and simply jotting down some extra key points mentioned by your professor.

you were just about to raise your hand for a question when you feel something warm graze past your arm. you absentmindedly look down.

the breath is sucked right out of your lungs.

hi, soulmate

there, scribbled with an ominous red crayon on a small piece of paper. it was almost laughable how innocent it looked but when you follow the ring-clad hand, up the black hoodie he's wearing, and finally to his face—

"hi! i'm yuta."

his cheshire smile spikes up your heartbeat. it makes you want to throw up, makes you want to slam your head against the desk. the fight or flight hormone you have is making you restless, eyes pinned on the serial killer sitting next to you, scared that if you avert your gaze, he's going to take out that desert eagle and shoot you until your skull caves in and the bullets in his magazine empties.

"but judging by your reaction, i don't think introductions are needed, hm?" his tone is easy, conversational even and it shoots a freezing jolt of fear right up your spine. it makes you sweat profusely because you don't fucking know what to do, your thoughts in complete and utter disarray.

"just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?" you swallow, sneakily pressing the button without breaking eye contact with the serial killer sitting in front of you.

"look upfront. now." yuta orders and you nearly snap your neck as you turn your head with lightning speed.

"i thought i was above the soulmate rules, but here we are. my soul is either too tainted or too great to be tied to such trivial things, but oh well, we learn to work with what we have. surprisingly, i learned to like dreaming about how your day went."

you feel something sharp poking at your thigh and when you look down, he has a silver butterfly knife pointed against you. the precision of the angle he held it with doesn't slip your notice. one slice of that knife, no matter how small, and he'll be spilling your guts in this classroom.

a fat tear rolls down your face.

"can you imagine how much my heart broke when i learned you were spying on me? leaking information to that snobby detective? to those incompetent cops? bad baby, that was very bad of you."

"yuta—"

"you think the cops can save you from me?"

his other hand comes in contact with the nape of your neck, holding your head in place as he leaned down to invade your space. he scoffs, and you can picture that terrifying cheshire grin you've seen one too many times in your dreams.

the knife digs through your coat, the tip hardly poking your skin only because he doesn't want to drive it into you yet. how did he even manage to get inside the university? not to mention the weapons he possessed? shouldn't anyone be suspicious when they see a man dressed in all black, clad in jeans and a hoodie, into a university—

he even dressed the part. with that hood drawn up and carrying that one notebook, he looked fairly normal. someone who can easily blend in with the crowd.

you eye your professor, willing him to look at you but your soulmate is having none of that. you squirm when he drives the knife further, at the base of your stomach. with his other hand, he twirls a lock of hair around his finger. "now, now, soulmate. you don't want half the people here to get hurt, do you? unless... that can easily be arranged—"

"no!" you whisper, head jerking to the side to look at him humming in satisfaction. damn. out of all the faces he's seen contorted with fear, yours is his absolute favorite. with those pleading, glassy eyes and parted lips, yuta is tenting in his sweats.

"thought so," he chuckles. "let's get up. we're leaving. that old crook doesn't care if students just up and went in the middle of his lecture."

you don't want to think about how he even knew that because it implied attending the lectures a good amount of times. it's with sinking realization that jaehyun was right. if it weren't for him insisting to sit next to you, nakamoto yuta would've long gotten you in his claws.

you tried gathering your things until he purred into your ear.

"ah, ah, ah. you wouldn't be needing those with where we're going."

the hallways were empty, not that you had much time to scream for help when he had a knife pointed up your back, shoving you into the fire escape stairs. within the tranquil confines of the staircases, the sad face slayer couldn't fucking care less for your personal space.

he disgusts you greatly, he needn't do anything but stand there in front of you but you can already smell the long blood trail from his path. it reeks of rotting flesh and that infuriating god complex he had left a sour aftertaste.

"you know, i genuinely wanted to get to know you," yuta pouts, shaking the hoodie off his head. his hair raven, it's ends kissing the nape of his neck. he looked like he came right out of a shounen manga but the bloodlust in his eyes is something that can never be masked. "i detested the soulmate connection at first, i thought i should just kill you off because you could be my loose end."

his humorless smile is enough to give you nightmares.

"but seeing how sweetly normal and untainted you are made me hold back," the butterfly knife appears before your line of sight, yuta teasingly dragging the tip right down your cheek to trace your tears. "so, why did you snitch, baby?"

you shiver when he noses the side of your neck, inhaling your scent as his other hand hooks underneath your top, freezing fingers making you jolt. when you don't reply, his patience starts to dwindle. then again, he was never a patient man.

"answer me, you bitch. why did you rat me out?" gone is the playful lilt in his voice. the vibrations surge through you as his deep, demanding voice scares you shitless.

you feel, hear, and smell him everywhere. this wasn't like any nightmare. this is real, and you won't magically wake up on your bed, sighing in relief, knowing he isn't there, that it was all just in your head. no, this was very much real and there's absolutely no escape.

"i didn't," your voice cracks. "i didn't mean to—"

"bullshit!" he yells. you wail in pain when he slams you against the wall, head aching as it came in contact with concrete. "because of you betraying me, i nearly fucking got caught, and i never get caught!"

you were full out sobbing at this point, noisy and unsightly as the snot mixes with your tears. your only hope now is he gives you a quick, painless death and that he doesn't carve and mutilate your face like what he always does to his other poor victims. "i'm sorry! please... i'm so sorry. i was scared—"

he coos mockingly, tilting his head to the side as he inched his face closer. "aw, scared? my sweet little soulmate was scared?" he places the blade flat against your neck. as humiliating and degrading as it was, you almost peed on your clothes. "how about now? i'm sure as hell that you're fucking terrified for your useless life right now."

you cringe when his hand abandons the expanse of your stomach, no longer inching higher, finding its purchase on the hair sitting at the crown of your head. he holds you in place like that, forcing your head parallel against the wall, with his whole body pressing up to you that it's nearly suffocating.

"just one quick little slice," he taunts. you hiccuped when you feel the feathery light scrape of the blade moving against your skin. "you won't even have time to scream… but i'm sure we don't want that, do we?"

you forgot how to speak. forgot how to breathe. whenever your mind wanders, you've always thought about how you'll give this killer a piece of your mind, with the amount of fear and sorrow he inflicts upon other people. but you guess realities were a lot more different than expectations. the yuta you dreamed of meeting is in handcuffs, but fate is a fickle little thing.

"do we?" he repeats, slicing ever so slightly at your skin. enough to draw blood in droplets, never a waterfall.

"n – no."

he smiles. "you can make it up to me. do you want to make it up to me?"

the butterfly knife digs even further. a warning. and if you value your useless life, you should be smart enough to know what to answer. drawing a shaky breath, you tried forcing the ends of your lips up to a smile. "of course, yuta."

your voice breaks as your sobbing grips your body whole. the fear consuming your entire being like a parasite consuming the host. you would've shut down altogether if it weren't for the calloused hands gently gripping your face. "i know, i know. i see how regretful you are, baby. don't worry, i won't hurt you. you'll make it up to me."

anyone would be fucking stupid if you believe those words coming from a serial killer.

in your wrecked state, you barely register that he's pushing you down to your knees. skin coming in contact with the freezing linoleum floor as you refuse to look at what his hands are doing. yuta has pocketed his knife. the sound of a belt unbuckling in itself added insult to injury.

you stare blankly at his shoes as he shoves his bottoms down enough for his cock to show. if you squint hard enough, you'll see tiny splatters of blood in the shoelaces. whether or not he feels you're unresponsive, he doesn't show. maybe he doesn't care entirely. he takes one of your hands and used it to wrap around himself. he gasps, sharp, followed by a hiss.

you feel it throbbing and it strengthens the disgust you feel. no way you're going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact when you're already forced to blow this psycho.

"eyes up."

you sniffled, vulnerability present in the tone you speak. "i don't want to. please, don't make me."

if words alone aren't enough for you to follow orders, maybe you'll feel more motivated if held at gunpoint. it's unmistakable, the infamous desert eagle you've only seen in your nightmares. the last thing you ever expected is to be on the side where the bullet comes out.

the barrel is freezing as he digs it into the crown of your head. "soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks."

your eyes looked up then. glaring as the tears rolled down your face. "you're a monster," you mutter under your breath. where you got the confidence to fight back is unknown.

"i've heard that before, be more creative next time," he holds your hair tight in one grip, shoving you forward, eye-level to his throbbing dick. "now… suck, baby."

"freeze!"

you knew that voice, you've been hearing it for the last two weeks. "jaehyun–!"

yuta cuts you off, shoving the gun into your mouth. the safety clicking off resonating in the tranquil room. it's deafening, and it makes you immobile.

"hands up. step away from the civilian." whether or not mark is nervous as he points the gun at the serial killer, he's doing a damn good job of hiding it.

yuta sighs, exasperated as he throws his head back. his raised arms came down to tuck himself back in his jeans, and the action made jaehyun's calm exterior crack. "i said, hands up, asshole!"

"chill out, motherfucker. i'm just trying to wear my pants." the serial killer hisses, glaring at jaehyun over his shoulder.

"mark, call back up already. what are you doing?" jaehyun mutters, side-eyeing the young detective whose gun shakes as he holds it up. the taller cop takes a step forward, eyes never leaving the notorious killer as he addresses you curtly. "(name), come here."

just as you plant your palms to the ground to push yourself up, one of yuta's hands shoves you down quick as lightning. "no. she stays here, with me."

jaehyun scowls, takes another step forward. "and what makes you think i'm going to let that happen?"

"i don't think. i know."

there's a constant ring in your ear as the gunshot temporarily renders you deaf. you've shut your eyes in utter fright, hands shooting up to cover your ears but it was too late. you refuse to open your eyes, you didn't want to see a dead body lying before you, even if it belonged to a heartless serial killer.

but when your eyes fluttered open, it's not yuta bleeding out on the ground.

"no, this can't be – jaehyun!"

it was a bullet straight to the head, no one could've survived a shot like that. his eyes are empty as he stares at you, unblinking, stoic. the color is yet to drown away from his milky complexion. but you can't even manipulate yourself into thinking that jaehyun's still alive. not when his eyes are empty, not when he just looks so lifeless.

it couldn't have been yuta who pulled the trigger.

his weapons were on the ground and the shot rang too fast. the sad face slayer couldn't have crouched down for his gun to shoot the cop, it would've taken too much time. and among the three men, there's only another person holding a weapon, and that was –

"great shot, mark."

the detective smiles, but with the blood splattered on his face, it looked cold. "told ya i've been practicing."

yuta hauls you up by the arms, addicted to how frail your body feels as it collapses against him. he's finally got his little soulmate in his arms. and he will never, ever let you go.

the cops lost – you've lost.

yuta, with a sense of victory coursing through his veins, took the liberty of trailing little pecks down your neck as he mutters, "mine, mine, mine!" but you couldn't care less about his display of mocked affection. not when the other person meant to protect you, turned out to be everything you think he wasn't.

mark must've felt the gravity of your stare as he crouches before jaehyun's bleeding body. grabbing the fallen cop's gun, he took it upon himself to empty the magazine. the lopsided grin he sends you broke your resolve more than yuta ever could.

"i'm sorry. it's nothing personal."

jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

#yandere nct #yandere kpop #yandere nct 127 #nct 127 yandere #yandere yuta #nct yandere #kpop yandere #yandere taeyong #yandere mark #yandere doyoung #yandere johnny #yandere taeil #yandere jaehyun #yandere jungwoo #yandere haechan #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #yuta imagines #yuta scenarios #yuta dark content #tw gore #tw violence #tw character death #tw swearing #tw murder #tw massacre #tw killing #tw blood

[i-make-fun-of-spn-characters]

I feel like you've given most spn related things some lil spice but I always love the spice on this : hot spicy take on the "Dean is the most horrible character and ruins everyone's life and Sam and Cas are poor little meow meows who only do bad things sometimes because tyran Dean farted in their direction" takes that are not really only said by anti-Dean peeps ? Obsessed with that incredible thesis and would love the added spice ❤

SPICY HOT HOT GHOST PEPPERS CAROLINA REAPERS HELP I'M BURNING

I really try to respect other people’s opinions, and I believe there are a wealth of ways to interpret a story, and I think that’s a deeply beautiful thing. This applies to interpretations I don't agree with and outright dislike as well. That said, some opinions are simply and objectively bad, dishonest, and/or demonstrably false, and I truly do not believe you can sit down and honestly watch through the show with an open mind about all the characters, truly pay attention to what they do, say, and believe, and come to the conclusion that this show is about an evil manipulative abusive man terrorizing his pure and sinless brother and friend. It is an interpretation built from cherry picking facts to suit an ugly, miserable theory, making Mount Everest out of a bunch of the tiny mole hills, making the worst possible presumptions of feelings and intentions, and holding characters to completely different standards in order to neatly divide them into "abused" and "abuser" in a way that, frankly, fetishizes the abused person. I despise this interpretation of the story with every fiber of my being, and I have absolutely no respect for the opinion of anyone who peddles it, regardless of who they cast as villain/victim (because people have also done this with the others—it’s just more “popular” to do it with Dean... I mean... does anyone else remember how people were shitting on Sam after his emotional reaction in 14.12? Calling him an evil abuser? Because I do).

The thing that always gets me about this take isn't just how dishonest, unfair, mean-spirited, and compassionless it is in its treatment of Dean’s feelings, circumstances, and intentions... but how deeply reductive and offensive it is toward Sam and Castiel, sucking away their identities to turn them into effigies to mourn for their sad, Stockholm syndrome-esque attachment to their "abuser". Further, it grips the heart of the show—the relationship between Sam and Dean, and then the relationship among TFW as a whole—in a tight, uncompromising fist and pulverizes it. It literally rips out the heart of the show (the RELATIONSHIPS) and replaces it with something unprepossessing of any merit: A miserable, 15 years long story about a malicious abuser getting away with terrorizing those closest to him for his entire life, while his poor abuse victims suffer through until they die for him/happy to be reunited with him because they “don’t know any better” and never ever learned better, I guess. What a stupid, sad sack of a story.

Castiel is a thousands of years old celestial being who has literally beaten Dean into the pavement under no form of mind control, and has shown over and over again that he will do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of whatever Dean thinks about being sidelined. If he thinks whatever he is doing is in Dean's best interest, he literally does not care how Dean feels about it. He will nod and smile and then fly off and swallow thousands of souls with Dean begging him not to, shove Dean out of the way to attack the big bad, leave Dean alone in Purgatory, refuse to come out of Purgatory so he can self-flagellate, fly off with the angel tablet, help Sam with the Book of the Damned, let Lucifer possess him without anyone's knowledge or agreement, come into Dean's room under the guise of apologizing for ghosting him so that he can steal The Colt out from under his pillow and murder someone, decide not to murder that person and still prevent Sam and Dean from helping by knocking them both unconscious, get himself killed, make a deal to trade his life for Jack's and never tell anyone, hide information and worries and ignore phone calls, ghost Sam and Dean, and bicker and fight with Dean as if they are a married couple. Love sickness and feelings of worthlessness (which Cas has a wealth of reasons to feel—many of which aren’t even related to Dean but to his heavenly family) are reinterpreted as the result of some sort of constant, terrorizing emotional abuse. Power and authority that Dean does not actually have is forced into his hands by these fans. Maybe listen when Cas says, “Hey—not everything is your fault.” Maybe listen when he says “I loved the whole world because of you”, calls Dean a role model, says he enjoys their conversations, offers to die with him and dies for him multiple times. Maybe treat these feelings as genuine and valid and HIS and not as the delusions of some poor manipulated baby. 

Sam is framed this way even more often than Cas, and it's a damn shame, because what I typically see is this: Sam’s development into a mediator and peacemaker is twisted and reinterpreted as coming from a place of weakness and/or fear. Rationality, maturity, wisdom, and compassion are not the traits of a scared, powerless child. They are the traits of a mature adult, who has been beaten down by life, and fought and raged against his circumstances, and somehow come out of it with more kindness and understanding and strength instead of less. He has made his own decisions whenever it was possible, within the set of circumstances doled out to him. From telling his dad to go fuck himself and going to college, to getting back into hunting to avenge Jess (NOT because of Dean—Dean took him home without complaint at the end of the woman in white case), to continuing to hunt after their father died because he wanted to feel close to him (Dean was actually weirded out and sort of disgusted by this), raging and fighting to save Dean from his deal against Dean’s wishes, continuing to hunt and working with Ruby (directly against Dean’s dying wish), drinking demon blood, jumping in the cage, leaving hunting to go be with Amelia, coming back to hunting to save Kevin, fighting with Dean over what he had with Amelia and threatening to leave if Dean didn't shut his mouth, leaving Amelia to go back to hunting (Dean ultimately suggests he go back to her—Sam chooses to stay), trying to kill Benny, demanding to be the one to do The Trials and saying he is going to SURVIVE them—that being the ENTIRE POINT, losing that resolve in a fit of depression but choosing to drop the knife, demanding space from Dean (and being given it), fighting to save Demon Dean who didn’t want to be found or saved, using the Book of the Damned against Dean’s wishes, telling Charlie that this is what he wants—that he used to want normal but now all he wants is to hunt with Dean and that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t have that, unleashing the Darkness in his desperation to keep Dean with him and even saying, “I would do it again” in the aftermath, saving the town being destroyed by Amara, getting into The Cage with Lucifer, leading a team against the British Men of Letters, nurturing Jack, punching Dean in the face when he was going to sacrifice himself, leading more hunters, wielding a gun against Chuck... and that’s just some highlights. Sam Fucking Winchester does not need your bullshit about him being some sad, scared, helpless baby lorded over by mean old Dean who has never let him do anything he wants. 

Yes, in the text itself, there is jealousy and resentment at times, and there is legitimate and righteous anger on Sam’s part on a few occasions. There is blame cast on Dean by Sam for some of these choices/circumstances. Some of those moments where Dean is blamed are legitimate, and some of them... frankly, are not. Within the framework of the fucked up dynamics of the way they were raised, Sam and some fans bristle when they feel Dean is casting himself as the parent he is not, but Sam also has been guilty in the past of trying to reframe himself as Dean’s child when things got tough. Neither of them is responsible for the origin of that dynamic, but they BOTH have responsibility to change it, and they both, ultimately, succeed in doing so. For Sam, his part comes in recognizing and learning to fully own his own choices. Recognizing that he is not a child, and he is certainly not Dean’s child, and it isn’t just “Mummy—loosen the grip”, but Sam has to too—not claim independence only to blame Dean for his choices when his own decisions have an ultimate outcome he is unhappy with. That is a legitimate arc that Sam goes through imo, but he comes out the other side of it, and he and Dean relate to each other much better as peers from then on—and I’d like to note that throughout the entire series, when they don’t relate as perfect peers and teammates, it isn’t always Dean “bossing Sam around”, but Sam also trying to sideline Dean and yes—boss him around. And when they lied and hurt each other and yes, even manipulated each other, Dean most certainly wasn't always the one doing the lying and hurting and manipulating. Always, always, ALWAYS, they both had an understandable point of view, and it was complex, and you could understand why they made the choices they did, even if you thought of those choices as being wrong ones. 

I also would like to point out (because this is basically what I see all of the time) that Dean being hurt by someone or simply voicing his feelings or opinion is in no way abusive or manipulative. Dean is certainly charismatic and loved and his returning love and respect is often deeply desired, but he is not an actual siren, who bends people to his will simply by speaking or being. People are, in fact, able to tell him “no”, and frequently FREQUENTLY do. Further more, no one is owed his affection, his unwavering loyalty, or his trust. He has a right to his boundaries, regardless of if it makes some poor sad sap feel deprived of the “wellspring of coveted love” while he works through things. He can be hurt and angry, and he can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, and he can be flawed, and broken. [Insert Castiel's speech from 15.18 here]. So can Sam. So can Cas. None of them are manipulating each other by virtue of getting angry, feeling hurt, being traumatized, needing space, or having differing opinions or feelings. Sam didn’t punch Dean in the face in 14.12 because he's a cruel, manipulative abuser trying to force Dean under his thumb. He didn’t work behind Dean’s back with Ruby, insist on doing The Trials, beg Dean to use Doc Benton’s alchemy, use the Book of the Damned to cure Dean, pump him full of blood to cure him of being a demon despite the fact that it might kill him, or scream at him and fight him for wanting to get in the Ma’lak box because he “doesn’t respect his autonomy” and “wants to control him” and “doesn’t respect his right to his own body”. He did it because he loves him desperately, and Dean could stand to fucking hate himself less, and he fiercely wanted Dean to live even when Dean didn’t want to or couldn’t picture what that could be like. He didn’t force Dean to do anything simply by opening his mouth to voice disagreement and swaying Dean when he did so. Now reverse that. 

Cas didn't beat Dean into the ground in season 5 because he wanted to terrorize him into never going against Castiel ever again. He didn’t go behind his back dozens of times, sideline him, go MIA, all because he wanted to manipulate and control Dean and punish him. He didn’t throw sassy remarks at him to shatter his self-esteem. Now reverse that. 

*Breathes*

Anyway, fuck "X is abusive” interpretations. 

#being serious for 5 seconds #RANTING RANTING RANTING #spicy spicy ghost pepper extract #mail

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XX

Part I - - - - - - - - - - Part XVII - - - - Part XVIII - - - - Part XIX

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

“I want you to understand that what we’re going to ask of you is entirely beyond the scope of duty and therefore completely voluntary. You are more than free to refuse participation, at any point, with absolutely no consequences.”

Deep within the Healing Halls best-kept medical secret, Eights quelled beneath the full might of the GAR’s highest and most lauded Generals. Yeah I’m sure whatever they ask I’m going to want to say no. Honestly, what kind of soldiers have they been working with?

“What can I do to help, sir? Sirs?”

“I know this might be shocking, but we have reason to believe the GAR is...compromised.”

“Sir?”

Eights thought furiously. This wasn’t about the healers who were hiding them, or the Jedi his battalion never received, or the decommissioning he had escaped. This was bigger.

The General Windu spoke calmly, “We suspect that you may have been trained or conditioned at some point without your knowledge to unquestioningly follow orders, orders that would usually be beyond what you would typically obey. With your permission, we’d like to try and activate that order in a restrained environment in order to gain more information, with the hope of finding a way to help the troops resist.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand. You’re just going to give me an order and ask me...not to obey it?”

General Koon nodded (General Koon! General Koon and General Windu were talking to him at the same time!). “In a manner of speaking, yes. But it’s possible that the order will do more than that. The only way we believe this could possibly work” Koon glanced to the man at his side. “And we...do believe this threat is real, is if you suffer from some form of brainwashing. Activating it might cause irreparable brain damage. Activating it might damage or kill the parts of you that make you you. Even if it doesn’t- the ideal scenario is we find something- an intentionally designed tumor perhaps- and surgically remove it. And brain surgery also has its own risks.”

Eights swallowed around a lump in his throat. 

“And this is something that could be going on with...my entire batch?”

General Kenobi winced. “The entire GAR I’m afraid. Every clone.”

The General of the 212th! Commander Cody’s General was here! Talking to him! Telling him existentially terrifying ultra classified intel!

The trooper stared up from bed in disbelief. If anyone besides three of most respected generals in the entire GAR (not including Buir Ti) was telling him this he would accuse them of bantha crap fear-mongering, if not outright treason. Instead he was just...outraged.

“What would the order make me...us...do?”

Windu took a deep breath. “Attack us. Try and kill the Jedi.”

“I would never.” Eights straightened up even further. “We would never betray the Jedi- it’s- never. We were made for the Jedi and even if we weren’t- you’re the only ones who treat us with an ounce of respect.”

“No one is questioning your loyalty,” the kind Mon Cal healer (whose name he had never asked for fear of getting her in trouble if this ward was ever discovered) said, obviously trying to sooth him. She spoke with heart-breaking earnestness. “The fact that you would never choose to obey such a command just makes the possibility of something forcing you to do so that much more horrifying.”

“How would something like that even get in our heads? The longnecks designed us to serve the Jedi, why... I’m sorry Generals. I didn’t mean to get out of line.”

“No need to apologize. You have every right to be angry about this intrusion, as well as any number of things,” General Kenobi reassured him, smiling sadly. “We don’t know to what extent the Kaminoans are involved with this plot. Not precisely.”

Eights nodded, clenching his one remaining fist. “I’ll do it. Whatever you need from me. I can’t let my brothers have something this big looming over them without any intel.” I’m not exactly front-lines material anymore anyway.

“Are you sure?” Mace Windu’s eyes seemed to stare into his soul. Eights stared right back.

“I am. When do we start?”

It didn’t take long to shave the soldier and connect a number of glowing vital readers to his skull. He was ushered into a chambered observation room with what appeared to be a sfaraday cage hastily built around it. 

“Alright, whenever you’re ready.” Bant (Master Eerin apparently, but she told him to call her Bant) said.

“I’m ready, sir.”

“Let’s start off small, see if we can learn anything without fully activating the order.”

General Kenobi took in a deep breath. He looked calm, but Jedi always did. The General took in another breath. Kriff, two deep breaths. That’s Jedi for freaking out, isn’t it? Right?

Fuck.

“Does Order 66 mean anything to you?” General Kenobi braced himself, staring intently at the trooper in his seat. 

Eights wracked his brain furiously. Sixty-Six...that was...

“It’s...a little familiar? Sorry sir, I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere but...I can’t recall.”

“That’s perfectly alright trooper, not to worry.”

A Twilek healer he didn’t recognize spoke into a micomphone from the other side of a transparisteel window. “His frontal lobe might be lighting up a little, but it’s nothing abnormal, and not enough to triangulate for anything intrusive.”

After several variations on the same question as well as a number of scans of different ‘levels,’ the questioning escalated to orders, as well an extremely uncomfortable mock fight that he would probably tell his grandchildren about, provided he survived today, and also was allowed to have grandchildren.

Still, Eights couldn’t quite recall ever learning an Order 66 and was starting to relax, thinking the whole thing was some sort of horrible separatist lie.

They left him alone for an uncertain amount of time before returning with-

“Quickdraw?!” Eights jumped up at the sight of his commanding officer arriving via hoverchair, nervously saluting with his left hand.”I didn’t know you were here!”

“Just got out of bacta. My spine’s not quite what it used to be after the blast,” the lieutenant responded wryly. “At ease, Eights.”

“Our apologies again for waking you prematurely,” General Koon said softly.

Quickdraw waved the General off. “I’m honored you did. For something as serious this- well I’d hardly forgive myself if I just slept through it.”

Quickdraw locked eyes with Eights. “I’m supposed to try giving you ‘the order’ now- General Kenobi suspects that as your superior officer, I might be authorized to trigger whatever the hell the longnecks put in our heads.”

Eights swallowed hard. “The longnecks, sir?”

“Who else?” Quickdraw asked in a tone drier than Jakku. He spun in the chair to face General Koon. “How are we doing this?”

After a brief discussion, the troopers ended up on opposite sides of a sound-proof transparisteel divider, an comm channel open between them. Eights plugged his ears and gave the order first. And giving Quickdraw an order was almost but not quite as weird as giving an order that would apparently make him try and kill Jedi.

Nothing happened and they swapped, this time with Quickdraw using a waxy covering to block his hearing.

His lieutenant stared at him straight through the clear divider and ordered him to execute Order 66. This time he finally remembered his training, and realized he was woefully outgunned. Oh well, he was a good soldier.

Eights stood up. The only visible change in his expression was a widening of his pupils. There was no malicious intent palpable in the force- he didn’t even look angry- just determined.

He lunged at the Jedi next to him, only to hit an invisible wall. He threw himself at the barrier desperately while the traitor backed out of the room and escaped. The wall finally dropped, but it was too late, he was locked in.

Sighing, he picked up the chair with his one good arm, slamming it repeatedly at the door frame. Good soldiers follow orders.

On the other side of the observation window, Quickdraw stumbled back horrified, reaching for his ears before hesitating. General Koon softly tapped his shoulder and indicated they should leave. 

“I’ve got a location.” Master Che said quietly as the lieutenant was ushered into an antechamber and the activated trooper continued to beat at the door. “It’s a small but clear patch lit up like the festival of lights- I don’t know why it didn’t turn up in scans but...I’m as confident as I can be. Worst case- it’s a small enough area that removing the grey matter shouldn’t...well it won’t kill him. It’s enough to go on for microscapel surgery.” General Koon nodded, then tilted forward, weight falling heavily in his palms on the counter before him.

Vokara rested a hand gently on his back “...I was hoping it wasn’t true as well.”

Master Koon flinched away. “I am sorry and glad to say you do not understand my feelings on the matter. I think...my apologies but I need some time to meditate.”

“Of course.”

Koon rushed out. After a moment Master Windu stepped in, radiating similar distress as Master Koon. Master Kenobi followed, looking grim but also happy. 

‘Oh I’m glad Koon isn’t around him right now,’ Healer Che thought wryly.

Perhaps sensing the mood, Obi-Wan sobered. 

“I’m sorry it’s just- I didn’t actually see the order get activated. Of course I believed it wasn’t a choice- and I’m obviously not glad that anyone’s will could be taken so easily-”

“You don’t have to explain anymore,” Mace offered quietly. “I can understand why seeing this would be something of a relief, all things considered.”

The Head Healer nodded in agreement before taking charge. “Kenobi, go in with Eerin and help her sedate him. I’ll prepare for surgery.”

“Wait- shouldn’t we try other permutations first? It’s possible that once activated, a clone might be able to order a superior officer-”

“And it’s also possible that if a lieutenant is activated, the entire army will turn,” Mace snapped. Obi-Wan bent his head, chastised. 

“Right. Yes. I’ll go- find Bant.”

An extremely long hour later, Master Che returned from surgery. Masters Mundi, Koth, and Yoda had left to and fulfill the other thousand and one duties of a council member not unravelling a Sith conspiracy at the heart of the Republic, while Master Aerdo had been dispatched to talk with Quickdraw as well as some of the other troopers in the hidden Medical bay. 

“It’s a chip,” Vokara said grimly. “Native biological material, but clearly a chip. Like you would find in a droid. Far more complex than any slave chip I’ve ever seen, and no explosive component. It would only turn up on a level five brain scan. I didn’t even think to run it before- it’s overly invasive and typically useless.”

The reduced meeting crumpled at the sight of the infinitesimally small object of control, carefully encased in a stasis slide and placed delicately on the conference table.

Proof of Obi-Wan’s future, a future that the group thought they already believed.

“We should get Master Nu,” Adi Gallia said quickly, “We’ll want our top researchers analyzing it as soon as possible.”

Koon nodded sharply. “Agreed.”

The Tholothian Master stood, “I’ll go at once- we should probably keep any mention of this off comms.”

As Master Gallia swept out of the room, Plo Koon wrenched his gaze from the stasis slide to face the healer. “Master Che, what is Eight’s status?”

“Unconscious and restrained, but he should wake up soon enough. It...might not be a bad idea to have another Jedi nearby when he does.”

Koon and Che left the room, taking the chip with them and conferring quietly.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, elbows on the table and face in his hands.

Master Windu exchanged a glance with Anakin. 

Finally Obi-Wan spoke, tentatively addressing Bant, “Could it be possible for someone...besides a clone to be chipped? If Palpatine had access to them as a child...”

Bant drew back, gaze flickering to Anakin. “I- we would have to study it more-”

Anakin interrupted, shifting in his seat. ”Master- what did I do?”

“It- it wasn’t you. It wasn’t you anymore that the person who fired on me was Cody.”

Bant exchanged a glance with Mace, before clearing her throat with a soft gurgle. “Perhaps we should leave the two of you alone to talk this through.”

The Mon Cala Healer stood and exited rapidly. Windu exchanged a glance with Skywalker before he left. “Talk through everything, understood?” Anakin nodded.

The door shut, leaving Master and Padawan alone. “I feel like I’m missing more than two and a half days,” Obi-Wan muttered wryly. “I don’t remember you three having a non-verbal communication system consisting of eye-contact alone before.”

Anakin chuckled once then immediately grew somber, picking at a loose thread in the sleeve of his robe. A thousand thoughts were swirling in his head, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I- did I hurt you? Is that- is that why you stabbed me, you thought you were defending-”

“I did what?!” Obi-Wan paled, jumping up from his seat.

Anakin winced. “It’s nothing, that’s actually not important. I’m healed anyway so forget I mentioned it-”

Obi-Wan moaned, stumbling backwards over the fallen chair. “Of force- when you were trying to save me- I had a blade. I cut you down-” He tripped backwards, collapsing to the ground.

“Master!” Anakin lurched forwards, but the older Jedi scrambled back.

“I forgot my spray bottle in there,” Bant whispered outside the door. “Do you think it’s too late to go back for it?”

Mace peered subtly through the small window in the door. “Yes. They’re already on the ground. I think they’re both crying.”

“It’s been less than a minute!”

“Yes.”

“...We should go.”

“Yes.”

Unaware of their muffled audience, the two continued their conversation.

“Don’t- don’t touch me!” Obi-Wan gasped, back hitting a wall. “I don’t- I don’t deserve-”

The young knight reared back, falling from a crouch to his knees, “Is this...about the Tuskens again?

Obi-Wan blinked in confusion. “The Tuskens? What about Tuskens?”

“You don’t...remember?” The air grew cold and Anakin forced himself to continue, “What- what we talked about in the cave?”

“What we- I-” Obi-Wan thought furiously. “...Anakin. What did...what were you apologizing for in the cave? What- what did you think we were talking about?”

“Oh gods.” Anakin paled now, shuffling back.

“What are they doing now?” Bant asked the taller Master.

“They’re taking turns chasing each other back and forth on their hands and knees. They both look like they’re seconds away from passing out or throwing up.”

“I...is this a human thing?”

“No. What? Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know! Do you think this is how they usually talk to each other?”

“I think perhaps they don’t talk to each other, and that’s why they’re like this.”

“Right, right... I really want to hear what they’re saying.”

“Hm. I don’t.”

“Why are you also standing outside the door then?”

“I want to be ready to intervene if they start trying to kill each other.”

“FORCE”

“Quiet!”

“Sorry. Sorry. You think they fought then? In the...other timeline?”

“...It would explain Obi-Wan’s shatterpoint remnants better than anything else.”

“Not to mention the spice.”

“I thought we were politely ignoring the spice.”

“...and then I brought her back to the homestead for burial.” Anakin bowed his head, tears streaming against his will. “I thought...Master I know I can’t fix this but I’m sorry- I already stepped down from my position as General so I wouldn’t be in a position to kill anyone else- I need you to forgive me.”

“Oh Anakin.”

“What? What happened?” Bant asked urgently. 

The Master of the Order appeared unruffled in the force and human visible light, but the tips of his ears were heating up in infrared. She stood on her toes to see in.

“Oh- they’re hugging? Seriously? That’s what you’re embarrassed to see?”

“They’re clinging to each other like younglings. It’s undignified for a Jedi Master and Knight”

“Alright that’s it- we’re going. I really don’t think Anakin’s going to jump from crying and hugs to murder.”

Unaware of their newfound privacy, the two inside withdrew from their embrace, still sniffling slightly. 

“Thank you, Master,” Anakin said in a shaky tone. “I swear I won’t let you down, I’m going to do better.”

“I know, my padawan, I know. I’m going to be there to help you this time, I’m not going to leave you alone with- well I’m not going to leave you alone.”

Anakin smiled wetly at Obi-Wan’s careful avoidance of Chancellor Palpatine’s supposed Sith alter ego, refocusing on Obi-Wan and making intense eye contact.

“What did you think we were talking about?”

Obi-Wan looked down. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “It- it never happened.”

“Ori’vod, please. You- you mentioned younglings. I did something else unforgivable didn’t I?”

Obi-Wan smiled but didn’t look up. “And i forgave you anyway. Even when I thought your apology was just a fantasy. But it wasn’t, it was real, and- and the people actually are unmurdered so...it’s not worth talking about it.”

Anakin bit the inside of his cheek, gut roiling. “You...really think I might have a chip in me?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped up. “I...don’t know. I didn’t even know that Cody had a chip in him.”

“You just...were suddenly betrayed by everyone.” 

“Not...everyone. Most who refused to fall in line were executed, of course, but there were a few senators who stood with the Jedi, secretly.” 

A new wave of cold terror passed over Anakin. “What happened with the other senators?”

“Like I said to the council earlier, from what I heard they cheered Palpatine on. Thunderous applause.”

“That’s not what I mean- Padme, Was Padme alright?”

Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands, shuddering.

“Anakin- I don’t know what to tell you,” he said in muffled voice. “I don’t want to deceive you but- things were dark. If I tell you everything now, I’m afraid of what you’ll do.”

Anakin winced. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I’m not...evil. I just...I messed up, and I want to make things better.”

Obi-Wan sighed, and pulled Anakin so they were seated next to each other in a mirror of the false peace a few days earlier. Anakin leaned into his Master’s side, feeling the cold retreat. “You’re not evil Anakin, but what you did to the Tusken village wasn’t exactly a small thing. I- look- Ad’ika-”

Obi-Wan hesitantly placed an arm around Anakin’s shoulder and the cold retreated a bit more.

“If the council accepts my plan, we’re going to have time together over the next few weeks, to talk more about...everything. We’re going to end the war- save everyone. I know the cave wasn’t what either of us thought it was, but it still meant the galaxy to me. I love you, no matter what...and that conversation, what you said. Well, it gave me the strength to go on, to do what I needed to.” Obi-Wan froze. “Not my, um, self-inflected injuries- that’s- obviously that wasn’t your fault-”

“You thought you were hallucinating. I know.” Anakin smiled, feeling honestly amused at the absurdity situation for the first time. “I’m going to mock you for that for the rest of our lives, you know that, right?”

“I look forward to it.” Obi-Wan smiled.

A vise that had been clenched around Anakin’s heart since he broke down the door to their apartment finally relaxed. “You really weren’t trying to kill yourself,” he sighed happily.

“I was attempting to stay alive. Honestly concerned about dehydration. I wanted to stay in the daydream, but I knew I couldn’t. And part of that was because you gave me the strength to keep going. Sorry I did such a bad job honoring that but, well. You know. Thank you, Anakin. For saving me twice over.” Obi-Wan’s voice was utterly earnest, though it was a touch more embarrassed than he was used to after the single day of utter unrestraint. 

Anakin’s eyes welled up. “I’ve been- I hated that you would just leave like that, give up-”

“Never Anakin,” Obi-Wan vowed. “I will never give up on you, or this galaxy.”

He twisted so he could throw both arms around his padawan.

“I swear by everything I am I will keep going. It’s... in my nature but gods is it easier with you besides me.”

“Even though i’m a child murderer twice over and once removed?” Anakin joked weakly, clinging desperately to Obi-Wan’s presence.

Obi-Wan shuddered. “Too soon, Anakin. Too soon.”

Part XXI

#star wars #my au #star wars au no 27 #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au #starwars

[lvnatiq]

Modern!au Felix Escellun x tattoo artist!gn!reader | Headcanons

a/n: Hey!!! I’m back at it again with my beautifully fucked up request fill. I’m still working on three other things, while I make you wait I took it upon myself to not starve this fandom. So here you have it. Please reblog or comment so that I have a crumb of motivation to keep up.

Should I do a smutty pt. 2 ? Who knows lmao.

Your hand slipped through the pile of designs that your colleague (and your close friend) had sent you to choose and pick apart from.

Unfortunately you were spending the night at the beautiful library of your uni, trying to balance off your school work with your actual work.

You didn’t mind spending your time under the faint scent of books and the mere sound of wood beneath you feet, but what you ‘do’ mind is the fact that the library is way colder than you thought it would be after the midnight.

Good thing that the yearning for finishing your work and leaving as soon as possible made it easier to concentrate on the task at hand.

It also made it easier for you to not notice the presence of an unexpected company.

That was until you felt the warm floral yet musky scent invade your senses as you felt the weight of cotton drape around your shoulders.

You slowly turn your head towards the owner of the coat who’s already making their way out. Desperately trying to find a way to make them stop but failing to raise your voice because of the circumstances.

The last picture of the person buried in your head was their hair caressed by the wind and their quick steps.

Fast forward to a week later, going completely out of luck with finding a place to stay you decide to ask help from your friend whom interestingly has a lot to offer.

With things going a lot smoother than you expected you stopped by the tattoo shop to finish your appointments with couple of customers before you left to meet up with your possible candidate.

“Don’t bother I’ll just call him here so you could talk comfortably.”

Your work seemed to take a lot longer than usual. So you kindly accepted your friends offer as you wrapped up the leftover stuff, finishing up the last customer.

“Hey, oh-“

The sight of your guest tickled your memories as you kept glaring at the glorious figure in front of you.

Felix, completely avoiding eye contact, placed the fallen hair strand behind his ear as he kept his eyes on the table of the tattoo equipments.

You quickly got up as you grabbed his coat from the hanger and walked back where you left him.

“Thank you for the coat, you really saved me back there.”

“Oh- no problem.”

That day you two chatted and melted the ice in between. Deciding to rent the close by apartment and start your roommate era.

Your friend smiled to themselves knowing all too well that felix was completely crazy about you.

Your encounter at the library wasn’t a coincidence either, well don’t think of him as a stalker now, he just dumped a couple of coins in the fountain wishing that you would be there that night. That’s all.

As you two moved in together you realized that there were a lot of things to be ‘caught off guard’ about him but you were most baffled by the tremendous amount of books felix owned.

“Hey Lover boy ! Would you mind recommending me some of them ?”

Felix blushes terribly and you love it so much that you constantly bother him in order to catch a glimpse of his flustered state.

Unbeknownst to you, the pile that felix left on the doorstep of your room was consisted of the books that he thought of you as he read.

Felix, abandoning his night owl habit, decided to fix his sleeping schedule for the better. Definitely not because he wanted to see you at morning before you got off to the work.

Insisting on offering you a ride on your way back home with his nice car.

Nearly every single day.

He knows that it may annoy you but he knows how much you are devoted to your responsibilities so he at least wants for you to save a bit of energy before you dive into the work.

Speaking of his nice car, it tickled your curiosity so you decided to check the price tag on the web and... well...

“Felix... you don’t so some sketchy illegal shit for a living right ?”

“It’s nearly impossible for me to work at the moment because of my studies. Why did you ask ?”

“Your car costs more than the apartment we are living in right now.”

With that, you discover that Felix’s father owns one of the most prominent chains of pharmaceutical companies and that he basically flee from his fathers mansion because he was pressuring Felix to take over his position in the future.

Being his puppet was not a thing to be tolerated in Felix’s book.

That being said, your domestic life with felix was pretty soft to say the least.

Cleaning together, cooking while talking about how your day went or getting to enjoy his expressions while he spilled his frustration against authors that didn’t affect him well.

Occasionally noticing the new cooking books appearing out of nowhere

and the delicious smell of food welcoming you after work, quite often than you expect.

Finally, more skinship.

One day whilst you two got through the gates of your apartment block you noticed the open doors of the elevator so instinctively you held Felix by the hand and ran into the mirrored box.

What you didn’t notice was the fact that you didn’t let go of his hand as you two went up.

From that day on Felix used every single opportunity to sneak his hand into yours.

Don’t blame him, it’s just that your hands are warm and the feeling of security that radiates from your fingertips is his medicine.

You absolutely avoided to tease or point it out to him because you knew that he would never do it again so you went with the flow.

You really enjoyed it though.

Snaking your arms around his waist while he is organizing the bookshelf. Feeling him shutter into your arms.

Nights became more and more enjoyable once he started to accompany you.

Everytime you caught him slacking on the sofa, you used his lap as a pillow.

Felix is extremely easy to figure out, mainly because he can’t hide anything.

Also, well

He is ticklish and you use his weakness against him, a lot.

Diving your fingers down to the sides of his tummy you started to tickle every possible sensitive spot you could catch on.

“Spit it out.”

“I-I wan’t you to- give me my first tattoo.”

Telling his words apart from his adorable giggles, needless to say you were ecstatic.

“Alright. What do I get in return ?”

“Name your price.”

You thoughtfully stared at the ceiling, humming as you blurted out your very obviously well thought out response.

“I want you to show me what keeps you up all night.”

You can’t be serious.

If you asked for an organ, he would’ve been more compliant.

You didn’t know what you got yourself into.

You basically asked for him to show you his ‘masterpieces’ that he showcases on AO3. Something that you were already well aware of.

“Deal ?”

“No !”

“Good ! Let’s see what you got.”

Felix anonymously contributed to the community by writing some of the most famous slow-burn stories on the web.

Just so you know, his author persona blew up thanks to the mind blowing, earth shattering smuts he wrote.

Yeah you heard that right

Smuts

Well he is fucking panicking now.

Nonetheless days kept on going as felix prayed each night to every single deity that you forgot your ‘deal’.

The days go on even if his worries don’t.

Did I say that Felix is a whimpering, whiny mess ? he struggles to stay in one position as the needle drags upon his skin.

“If you plan to keep on moving, I might as well strap you down felix. 5 more minutes and then we are done. Please behave.”

When you put it like that how can he refuse I mean you made things worse he is internally screaming at what you just said but he is not going to refuse a command when it’s given by you.

In exchange for giving him a tattoo you decide to let him give you one even though he’s inexperienced.

He’s terrified because he thinks that something would go wrong, his hand would slip or something and he would scratch that pretty skin of yours with a horrendous tattoo.

But you assured him nevertheless and offered him to draw something very minimal and easy. He accepted eventually.

As it turns out Felix is a natural. His hand is extremely steady and the tattoo turns out great.

Throughout the process he’s constantly asking if you’re hurt because he thinks that he’s doing something wrong but in fact he’s very delicate and gentle with the strokes and his touch.

You decide to be evil and use it against him. After you touch up your tattoo you lean in very closely and turn your cheek towards him.

“What are you doing ?” He stutters.

“I can’t possibly ask you to kiss my freshly made tattoo, so won’t you give me a kiss so that it heals faster.”

If his hands were steady before they weren’t now.

As soon as his lips left your cheek you held him by his wrist and pull him back close again so that you can lean in onto his ear.

“Don’t think that I’ve forgotten our deal. I am excited to see what you have in store for me tonight.” You winked.

Then the worst thing happened

The “tonight” came.

Felix was running in circles around the living room with one hand on his forehead wondering what could get worse after this.

Maybe you’ll be disgusted or scared hell if he knows.

He wanted to do nothing to harm your relationship in anyway because you and what you two have is all he ever wanted.

...and he believes that he has a tendency to ruin things.

But what happened was beyond his expectations.

Your eyes followed every single sentence throughout the screen, the white light traced your expressions as your eyebrows raised up and down and the corners of your lips inched closer to your ears. Your lower lip became a victim of your teeth’s assault.

He was so confused. Still waiting for you to lash out or make fun of him, at least.

“I used to think ‘what am I gonna do with you’ when it comes to you. Mostly out of frustration.”

Yet here you were with the laptop closed shut and your arms behind your head as you closed your eyes and groaned.

Slowly the smile plastered on your face grew.

”Now I know what to with you.”

#felix escellun #fictif felix #last legacy #fictif last legacy #felix escellun x reader #felix x reader #felix fictif #nyx hydra #fictif #mc

[vvienne]

TODOBAKUDEKU FIC RECS

Curse of Baytown by surveycorpsjean

With the last of his hope, Shouto stumbles into a strange town. Be it destiny, or be it fate; his life will change forever.

two whole dicks for a half and half bitch by Ascend

Todoroki stumbles his way into a threesome, Midoriya cries into his pants, and Bakugou gets cockblocked no less than twice, but eventually, they all get laid.

Of Respite and Odyssey, Balm and Halcyon, Rapture and Godot, Lear and Pierrot by JayJEx

Aizawa and All Might’s Forever Squad of Problem Children

(8:47 AM) Midorito: @/everyone this is an official callout post for @/Discount IcyHot Patch, who is returning to musutafu tomorrow and DIDN’T EVEN TELL ANY OF US!!!!! ლ(ಠ益ಠ)ლ

Shouto groans in despair. Predictably, the group chat immediately explodes.

-or-

Todoroki returns to Musutafu after six years away and his tragic inability to keep up with all of the people in his life catches up to him in the worst, most irritating ways possible.

(Though he might at least get a boyfriend or two out of the matter. That’s a plus.)

if it was only a distraction (how come I can't stay away) by Voulezvous_79

He scrolls down and his heart stops - shit, shit, shit, no. Bad Izuku. You are over this. Completely, totally, definitely over any high school crushes that were going nowhere - because it’s the photo.

The one he surreptitiously had as his phone background for his entire first year in America. The one he cried over when he got on the plane. The one he jerked himself off to - once, okay!? It was one time, and he panic-deleted it after he came, and then cried about that, so he’s not proud, okay?

---

Or: Izuku's back in Japan, and he's definitely, totally, 100% coping with his friends' new relationship.

Biology for Assholes by fruiticle

Bakugou, an omega with Pseudo Alpha Syndrome, was content to live with his heatless, smoke-scented, absolutely-not-soft condition.

Really. He wouldn’t change a thing.

JUMP!!! by cxlmberry

Izuku grew up watching Superhero Legend, the iconic, generation-defining anime series featuring the invincible crimefighter All Might. Now, he is ready to become a professional manga author himself, to inspire thousands of people with his own series for decades to come – if only things were that simple.

Weekly Shounen Jump picked up Shouto’s series when he was only sixteen, and since then, he has become one of the most accomplished authors in the magazine. He’s a teenage prodigy. A genius. Jump’s main attraction. Sometimes the stress of it is too much.

Katsuki is talented – extremely, rudely so, and he knows it. An incredible artist and master storyteller, he’s out to become the one and only, undisputed King of Shounen Jump. Now, he only needs to get published.

A story of passions and careers, talent and hard work, second, third and fourth chances, as well as recovery and growth.

---

Alternatively, a budding manga artists AU.

Fire in the Mountains by EllaBesmirched (El_Bell)

“I’ll do it.”

Enji froze, fingers curling into a fist at his side, and didn’t turn around.

Shouto froze too, feeling his own eyes widen in shock at the words that had come out of his mouth, at the fact that he had actually stood up, followed his father out of the room, and dashed after him all just to say… he’d do it? He would do it? Him. Shouto Todoroki. He would--

Enji finally turned around and fixed Shouto with an expression so scathing, Shouto had to fight to keep his chin raised. “You’ll marry the Barbarian King.”

Shouto blinked. “Yes.”

How (Not) to Bribe a Human Sacrifice by maxisnotokay

"You want to kill me?" Katsuki asked, brows raised. He suddenly looked a little less like a king and more like a man, peering at Izuku through the moonlight. "You help me make this cure, and you kill me."

"Those are my conditions," Izuku said. He didn't break his gaze. "A deal's a deal, Kacchan, and I'm trying to be a hero."

+++

[fantasy au. midoriya literally falls from the sky and strikes up a deal with an unlikely candidate. things do not go as planned.]

Guildy Pleasures by Mysecretfanmoments

As the only son of a powerful politician, Todoroki Shouto's life is just one big boring cutscene—except when he logs on to Land of Heroes, where he plays as ShoutO, slaying foes and keeping his fellow guildmates alive. It's enough fun that it almost distracts him from the fact that he's falling for two of those guildmates. Almost. But he's got to stay in stealth mode, because Bakugou and Midoriya are mega-popular streamer duo ZeroDeku… and they're already dating each other.

Shouto has managed to keep his real identity a secret from them all this time, but when he's caught on live television watching one of their streams he ends up not only pulling aggro from the whole country, but catching the attention of ZeroDeku themselves. To his shock, they actually want to meet Shouto, the politician's son—and this time there's no avatar to hide behind.

the universe must have my back, you fell from the sky into my lap by lelex

The picture looks like it was taken in a cafe, Todoroki in a light blue sweater that even from a distance looks wildly soft, seated at a baby grand piano with his short hair effortlessly tousled. It’s one of those photos where it’s obvious Todoroki wasn’t expecting it to be taken—he’s in the middle of looking up at whoever is behind the camera, a smile small on his face but delight evident in the curve of his mouth.

He’s stupidly beautiful. Looking at him for too long makes Izuku kind of sweaty.

They both sit there staring at this one picture for almost three full minutes. In complete silence. Eventually, Kacchan sighs a little bit and tips his head backwards to rest on the couch. Staring up at the ceiling, he murmurs, “Well, shit.”

Izuku can’t stop the lightly hysterical laugh that explodes from his mouth in response.

“We’re fucked.”

*

Izuku, Katsuki, and Shouto fuck up a meet-cute, twice. But everyone wins in the end.

Cinderoki, the Sweaty Prince, and the Furious Fairy by Esselle

"I wish I could go to the royal ball for Prince Izuku," Shouto finally told the fairy.

Katsuki screwed up his face. "That's it?" Shouto nodded. "Why?"

"It seems fun."

"It's not going to be fun." Katsuki scowled. "It's going to be terrible. You have to have a better wish."

"I want that one," Shouto said.

--

Todoroki Shouto is cursed. Since he was five years old, he's been locked away from the rest of the world to keep his out of control magic a secret. He thought he could be content with his storybooks—until an invitation comes from the royal palace, inviting his family to attend a ball for Crown Prince Izuku.

Shouto wants to go; he wants to be normal; he wants to leave his cage. Most of all, he wants to know what it's like to live in a fairy tale, even if it's only for one night. Fortunately, he's about to meet one pissed off fairy named Katsuki, who's been watching Shouto his whole life and waiting to make his wish come true.

Powder Keg by Ajaxthegreat

Bakugou really, really, really didn’t want to be trapped in an elevator with Todoroki and a fireproof dildo.

Sensory Input by Esselle

"Captain," Shouto says, clearing his throat. "You put in a request?"

Midoriya stands in front of the window now, staring out at the endless expanse of stars. He turns when Shouto enters. Like Bakugou, he's dressed casually, in a simple grey shirt that stretches over his chest. His green eyes blink wide as though in surprise, before he smiles. It's sheepish and shy. In front of the window, the vastness of space flung out behind him, he's as stunning as a supernova.

"I did, right," he says. "The, um, the thermostat… seems to be, maybe—"

Bakugou cuts him off with a loud sigh. "Quit wastin' his time and tell him why he's really here."

--

Shouto is a remote crew member of a spaceship—his real body is stationed on a world far away, but his consciousness is housed in a maintenance bot on board the ship. When he manages to attract the attention of the ship's gorgeous captain and fiery first officer, it doesn't take long to discover that the bot's adjustable sensitivity levels have more enjoyable applications than repair work.

#todobakudeku #tdbkdk #fic recs #bnha recs #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki

[interstellarflare]

Bend and Break || Homelander

-PART FIVE-

Warnings: Gore, violence, course language, angst.

Summary: People can only bend their morales so far before they break. Homelander is the world’s greatest superhero, and you, a tech analyst, somehow become entangled in his world when he learns that you provide intel to The Boys. He makes it his personal mission to find out exactly what you know, but he never expected such resistance from someone as damaged as you. But broken things can be mended, sometimes in the most unexpected ways possible.

Author’s Note: As a bit of a disclaimer, I have only seen snippets of The Boys. I haven’t actually watched all of it, so forgive me if there are some details that are wrong, as well as the many spelling errors that will undoubtedly be in this series. There is a tag list open for those who wish to be added. I apologise for the long chapters. Gif by @theseymourbirkhoff

|PART ONE| |PART TWO| |PART THREE| |PART FOUR|

“We’ve been at this for hours, and you still haven’t managed to break into Vought’s servers”.

“Well by all means, you are more than welcome to try and hack through dozens of impenetrable firewalls yourself...” You replied, bitterly, running your tongue over your bottom lip “or would you rather that I get through them undetected?’.

The two of you had been arguing for hours and hours, neither if you coming up with a solution. Max sat beside Noir on the couch, the two of them exchanging wordless and annoyed glances in relation to your constant bickering. Homelander groaned, rolling his eyes as his head fell back against the back of the armchair. “There has to be something you can do” He whined, folding his arms over his chest as he began to pout. You glared at the Supe before breathing deeply. There was no point in yelling and screaming at each other. You figured that the leader of The Seven was just as stressed as you were. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you grimaced as your headache began to worsen. “Maybe you’re right, there has to be something else I can do”.

You sighed heavily, trying to come up with a way to retrieve the intel you so desperately needed. You stood up from you seat at the dining table, stretching your legs as you paced about the living room. You bit your lip in deep thought, ignoring Homelander’s ever-watchful gaze as his eyes followed you about. You were completely stumped, clueless as to what to do. Then Homelander laughed. It wasn’t a laugh of amusement, oh no. It was a mocking laugh, one that made the Supe smirk evilly. A shiver ran down your spine, the hairs on your arms standing on end as you turned to face him. “What?” you asked slowly, not liking the way Homelander’s expression changed to a shit-eating grin. “If I’m correct...” he began, standing up from the couch with a small groan “it’s easier to obtain the intel we want from inside the building, right? It just so happens that Vought is holding a Gala to unveil a new...something, I wasn’t really paying attention to what. But the Gala is tomorrow night”. You nodded along to his words, taking in what he said without really listening. Then you caught his suggestive stare, and you froze. A Gala at Vought International...a Gala!?

“Oh no, fuck no!” You shouted, pointing accusingly towards the man in front of you “I’m not going to a stupid fucking Gala. Have you seen my closet? There is not one expensive thing in there!”

“Y/n, come on now...” Homelander cooed gently, recoiling sharply as you swatted his hands away “we need to work together on this-” “And when I get caught, what happens then? That is a stupid idea, we’re not doing it”. The room fell into a deadly silence as both you and Homelander stared each other down, neither of you wavering. But when Homelander’s serious glare suddenly contorted into a teasing smile, your eyes widened in horror. “The Gala starts at seven tomorrow night. I’ll send a car to pick you up at six”. Before you could process what had actually been said, Homelander bolted for the open window before you even had time to retrieve a plush black cushion from the couch. You chased after him, throwing the cushion out of the window and towards the Supe’s retreating form. You missed horribly, of course, as the cushion bounced into the overgrown vacant lot next door. “You’ve given me very little time to find a dress!” You shouted angrily, your knuckles turning white as your hands clenched the windowsill in fury. Homelander laughed obnoxiously, no doubt thankful for the safe distance between you as he replied “I’ll take care of that, don’t worry your pretty little head about anything”.

Gritting your teeth in frustration, with an annoyed growl escaping your lips, you slammed the window shut to hide the growing blush on your cheeks. Taking a long and exasperated breath, you turned around to face Max and Noir, your eyes widening slightly as you shamefully realised that you had forgotten that they were even there. “He still doesn’t know about about the accident, does he?” Max questioned, his eyebrow rising in emphasis. When you nodded your head slowly, Max scoffed. “He will never find out. Understood?”. Your nephew grumbled. Noir, confused and unsure how to respond, merely shrugged awkwardly.

You groaned loudly, storming into your room and slamming the door harshly.

When the dress arrived early the next morning, accompanied by a box of expensive high heels, you tossed both boxes onto the bed and refused to look at them. You didn’t want to know what horrific thing Homelander had chosen for you. You didn’t have the nerve to even enter your room until three in the afternoon.

The curiosity of knowing had been eating away at you for hours now, the nerves in your chest growing as you finally gave in. With two hours left until you were whisked away to the worst night of your life, you hesitantly entered your room and begrudgingly opened the box containing the dress.

The dress was beautiful.

You marvelled at the beaded lace bodice, running your fingers gently across the fabric fearing that it might tear at the slightest increase of pressure. The dress itself was a deep royal blue, a fraction off the same colour as Homelander’s suit you realised with an amused roll of your eyes. It was the prettiest thing you owned, by far. And the shoes, a spectacular glittering silver that matched your dress perfectly. You were left in awe. But the question now was, would they fit?

You ignored all of the negative thoughts as you entered your bathroom, beginning the tedious task of applying your make-up. You didn’t want it too heavy, but light enough so that you were bold and noticeable, but just another face in the crowd. You had to apply enough make-up to completely cover your dark circles, which had become prominent due to your prolonged experiment creating a device that would hack into Vought’s servers all last night. You chose a light smokey eye and bold deep red lips, a deep crimson, almost burgundy. Perhaps a little darker. You allowed your hair to fall in loose natural waves, to complete the look, leaving you with a few minutes to spare to put on the dress.

You felt sick to your stomach as you slipped through the gown over your form, not liking the way the fabric stretched and tugged. The shoes fit no problem, then you moved to the bathroom to see the final product...and your mouth fell open in a stunned gasp.

You looked absolutely gorgeous.

The dress fit perfectly, hugging all the right curves and all the right places. You hadn’t realised how revealing the dress actually was, entirely backless with the base of the lace bodice stopping at your lower back. It left you completely exposed. But you felt powerful, you felt incredible. 

There was a loud knock at your door, and you released a string of unladylike curses as you realised that the time was now six. Stuffing your newly invented device, disguised as a pager, into a black clutch before walking out into the hallway of the building, locking the door to your apartment behind you. You were met by a man in an expensive-looking tux, who motioned for you to quietly follow. The elevator seemed to move agonisingly slow as you couldn’t wait to reach the lobby floor.

The man led you out to an awaiting limousine, opening the door for you as you stood on the curb completely dumbfounded. ‘He’s really pulling out all the stops, isn’t he?’ you thought to yourself, nodding your thanks to the man as you clambered inside the limousine. Sooner than you thought, the limousine pulled away from the curb, and you were on your way. Your stomach backflipped with butterflies, and your palms became sweaty as countless thoughts raced through your mind. What if everything wen wrong? What if your little device couldn’t break into the servers? What if...this was a trap?

You were so consumed by your confusing thoughts, that you hadn’t realised that you had arrived at your destination. The door to your left flew open, allowing a chorus of excited cheers to flood the interior of the limousine. Your eyes widened as your (eye/colour) hues landed on the luxurious red carpet leading up to a horrific staircase that belonged to the architectural wonder that was the Town hall, lit up in the colours of red, white, and blue, with banners of The Seven illuminated by individual floodlights. For a brief second, you hesitated on staying the car. Away from prying eyes. But you forced yourself to move, out into the open, where you found yourself shying away from the flashing lights of photographers and the microphones of journalists.

You weaved your way through the crowd of famous celebrities, politicians and high-end government officials, smiling an awkward greeting if your if your gaze met their own. you had just reached the middle landing when you heard them, the ecstatic shouts of ‘there he is’ and ‘Homelander’ taking the crowd by storm. You turned, careful not to step on your dress as your gaze followed that of the crowd.

And there he was. The Homelander, The World’s Greatest Hero, descending from the sky and onto the red carpet below. The crowd loved him, they cheered for him. They loved him. A sad smile formed on your lips as you watched him indulge the crowd with glorious waves and Hollywood smiles, stopping to give the occasional  interview with the odd reporter here and there.

Whilst in the middle of talking to a blonde bombshell of a reporter, her hair a stark contrast to the blood red dress she wore, her lips a little too red for his liking, Homelander’s eyes wandered over the a-listers gathered here tonight...until his gaze met your own. He stopped short, his words catching in his throat as he stared up at you, two flights above him in dumbfounded awe.

You were breathtaking.

To him, you stood out amongst the crowd, and not just because you looked slightly out of place. You outshone many of the women here tonight, highlighted by the numerous flashes of cameras left right and centre. The dress complimented your figure well, and he felt his chest tighten in a rush of unfamiliar emotion. Not bothering to excuse himself from the infatuated reported beside him, Homelander scaled the next two flights to stop on the landing in front of you.

All eyes were on the two of you now, and you could feel them burning holes in your gorgeous dress. You swallowed thickly, timidly casting your gaze to the carpet below as you spoke teasingly “That was quite an entrance”. Homelander’s smile was genuine as he stared down at you brightly. “Anything for you...” he spoke quietly, quiet enough so only you could hear “shall we?”. With your heart leaping into your throat and a bright blush covering your cheeks, you nodded. Homelander ushered you up the remaining stairs, his hand resting on your lower back as he guided you through the crowd and inside.

“Town Hall? Bit of a weird place to hack Vought International from” You spoke lazily, to which Homelander laughed. “There is a direct line to HQ from here. It would be easier for you to get through here than there”.

You laughed bitterly, finding slight amusement in the situation. “Why am I not surprised?”.

Tag List: @lauraaan182​ @tardis-23 @freshmakertaco @shilsvampsinger @cynthianokamaria  @delicatetimetravelarcade @coloursunlimited @clean-soap @themarch-oftheblackqueen @soft-hargreeves @kennedywxlsh​

#homelander x reader #homelander #homelander imagine #the boys x reader #the boys #the boys imagine #antony starr

[rnelodyy]

C!Dream, the status quo, and why conflict is okay sometimes.

In this fandom, there is a lot of talk about conflict, who causes it, who avoids it, who is to blame for it, et cetera. An argument often heard from c!Dream apologists to justify his abysmal treatment of L’Manburg in general and c!Tommy in specific is “He was just trying to stop people causing conflict! He was protecting the server by stopping these conflict-causing maniacs!”

And it’s not hard to see where they get this idea from, because c!Dream repeats this sentiment a lot, from his “happy family” speech, to the speech during the final disc war about how c!Tommy causes constant conflict, to the fact that he always portrays himself as a reasonable authority figure trying to calm down these feral creatures always fighting with one another (and we’ll get to that idea…).

My reasoning for explaining how c!Dream’s worldview is deeply flawed may be a bit controversial, so I decided to write this essay to explore the following idea:

Sometimes, conflict is good actually.

(all /dsmp /rp, names refer to characters, not content creators)

Conflict, in itself, is morally neutral. It’s the context surrounding the conflict that allows us to ascribe morality to it. This fact makes this topic a LOT harder to discuss, because morality is subjective. What I’m writing here is all my own opinion, you may agree or disagree on some points, I just ask that you read it through and please don’t start shit over this.

Anyway, the context. It’s dependent on a number of factors.

Justification. Why was the conflict started?

Intent. What is the desired outcome for either party?

Proportionality. If the conflict is started out of revenge or punishment, is it proportionate to the wrong committed?

Power Dynamic. Is the person on the receiving end more, less, or equally as powerful as the person starting the conflict?

For example, let’s compare the L’Manburg War for Independence with the intervention during the Final Disc War.

Justification:

Dream declared war on L’Manburg because he saw them as traitors, and the land they occupied as rightfully his. Therefore, them making a country of their own where his rules didn’t apply was a violation of the status quo he wanted to uphold.

Punz and the others intervened because they didn’t want Dream to kill Tommy and/or Tubbo, and were tired of his constant meddling in their affairs.

Intent:

Dream’s intent was to attack L’Manburg until they surrendered, no matter how much hurt he’d cause or how many lives he’d take.

Punz and the other’s intent was to stop Dream from killing Tommy and Tubbo, and stop whatever plan he had to keep the server under control.

Proportionality:

L’Manburg declared independence in response to brutal violence as retribution for clumsy attempts at crime, on land nobody except Wilbur was using, were explicitly pacifistic and invited Dream to make an embassy in their land to discuss trade. Dream responded by declaring war, destroying their land, luring them into a trap and killing them, and continuing to beat them down until they surrendered.

Punz and the others intervened after Dream dragged two teenagers out into the wilderness to fight him, with little chance of them ever returning. This was after months of Dream’s meddling in conflicts he had nothing to do with, trying to control people’s actions, ripping Tommy away from his home and abusing him in secret and, in the end, destroying the place most synonymous with freedom from his rule. They intervened by getting Tommy and Tubbo to safety, letting Tommy (the kid who arguably suffered the most at Dream’s hands) take his items and beat him to death twice, then locking him up in prison.

Power Dynamic:

L’Manburg was significantly less powerful than Dream and his goons, with less skilled fighters and heavily inferior gear. They held their position fairly okay at the start, but after the Final Control Room, they were basically defenseless against Dream’s assault.

Dream had always had unprecedented power on the server. He’s leveled entire countries, crowns and dethrones kings when he feels like it, overruled the decision of a court of law, and in the end, had Tommy and Tubbo completely at his mercy before the intervention. Even beating Dream was seen as such an insurmountable task that it took fourteen people (excluding Clingyduo) to take him down.

The thing about conflict, even violent conflict, is that it’s not always negative. If your sister is being abused by her boyfriend and refuses to report it out of fear, you’re gonna be hard-pressed to find someone unable to sympathize with you if you go over to his house and break his nose.

What is a defining feature of conflict, is that it disrupts the status quo.

That’s not to say that some characters are always disruptors and others always preservers of the status quo. For example, during the Disc War, Tommy is the one trying to preserve and Dream the one trying to disrupt (the status quo being: Tommy owns the discs), and during the L’Manburg War for Independence, Tommy and Wilbur are disrupting while Dream is preserving (the status quo being: Dream has absolute power and the entire server needs to follow his rules).

It’s ALSO not to say that this disruption is always bad, because sometimes, the status quo fucking sucks, and throwing it on its head is the right thing to do. Overthrowing Schlatt is seen by everyone on the SMP and pretty much every fan as morally correct, as while Schlatt being president was the status quo, it meant he was ruling as a dictator, exiling his political opponents, imprisoning and heavily taxing dissenters, being verbally and physically abusive to his cabinet members, and forcing a guest at his festival to execute a sixteen year-old boy for spying for the political opponent he exiled.

Conflict being a genuinely good force of societal change isn’t usually brought up in the fandom though, at least not consciously. A lot of people, both on the server and IRL, see conflict only as a source of hurt and pain, and try to prevent or avoid it as much as possible.

And here’s where Dream differs from someone like Ranboo. Because while both Dream and Ranboo operate on the assumption that all conflict is bad all the time, Ranboo shows this by becoming conflict-avoidant to the extreme, to the point where he refuses to pick sides in pretty much any conflict, no matter how obviously good or evil one side is. Meanwhile, Dream shows this by becoming controlling to the extreme. Mitigating conflict isn’t enough, he needs to control everything to prevent all conflict ever.

In Ranboo’s case, this is less due to ideology and more due to personality. Ranboo is a deeply anxious person, and hates being in the middle of fights. He’s also… not very self-critical? He has issues with self-worth, but he very rarely takes a look in the mirror to inspect what it actually is he believes and says, making him very gullible and convinced of his own righteousness. But while that’s a VERY interesting character trait, Ranboo’s conflict-avoidance doesn’t make him a very good character to examine in the context of conflict and what it means.

So let’s look at Dream. Because, despite claiming to want to stop conflict, Dream CONSTANTLY starts conflicts or escalates existing ones. The L’Manburg War for Independence could’ve been entirely avoided if Dream hadn’t lashed out so heavily at a nation of pacifists who made their own area to avoid violence from authorities. As I explored in my George Vod Analysis, the griefing of George’s house would’ve been a lighthearted dispute between two people if Dream hadn’t taken over the entire thing and turned it into one of the biggest diplomatic crises in the server’s history. Mexican L’Manburg hadn’t even existed for an hour before Dream came by to kill its residents and destroy its land.

So why is Dream so focused on stopping conflict, despite constantly starting it himself? Why is THAT his hill to die on?

Simple. Dream wants to prevent disruptions to the status quo. That status quo being “Dream is the one in power and everyone has to listen to him.”

But you can’t say that out loud. If you say “everyone needs to listen to me otherwise it’s not fair”, you sound like a whiny five year-old at best, and a tyrant at worst. So, instead of saying that, Dream says “I just want to prevent conflict, keep the server peaceful.”

Remember what I said about one party being the disruptor and another being the preserver? Well, Dream’s status in the early days of the server is almost always preserver of the status quo. The only times he’s the disruptor is if disrupting that status quo serves to strengthen the status quo of him being in power. For example: Stealing Tommy’s discs is a disruption of the “Tommy’s discs are his and his alone” status quo, but strengthens the “Dream is the most powerful dude on the server” status quo, because the discs give him power over Tommy.

By fighting L’Manburg, he was trying to preserve the status quo, because having a government on the server meant he no longer had absolute power. Hell, REALLY early on, he decided to kill George and burn all his stuff because George had full diamond while everyone else was still running around in iron armor.

However, after L’Manburg’s independence, Dream’s focus shifted. Instead of preserving the status quo, he’d disrupt it in order to return to the status quo as HE wanted it, with no nations, and himself at the top.

But again, that wouldn’t look good. Making yourself the undisputed ruler of the entire server is not good for optics, so instead, Dream hides behind the excuse that he’s just trying to stop conflict, or seeking retribution for slights against his nation.

By this point, Tommy, the only person who CONSTANTLY refuses to bow to his demands, becomes his scapegoat. Tommy is loud, enjoys chaos and getting on people’s nerves, and causes, admittedly, a LOT of conflict. Lighthearted, non-serious conflict with very little actual consequences, but conflict nonetheless. It’s not hard for him to start smearing Tommy’s name, painting him as this feral child at fault for every conflict ever, mostly because a lot of people already believed something like that to be true.

The idea that Tommy is uniquely destructive or chaotic is complete bullshit. Tommy is definitely on the more chaotic side, but he’s not that much more chaotic or destructive than your average server member, he’s just really loud and annoying about it, which makes the things he DOES do stick out more. But Dream, especially during the Exile Conflict, continuously pushed the idea that Tommy is the only one creating conflict on the server, that Tommy is responsible for all conflict ever, and that without Tommy, everyone would be at peace.

And at some point… Dream started believing this himself.

His speech during the Final Disc War illustrates this perfectly. He tells Tommy that ever since he joined, there’s been nothing but war and terrorism and conflict, and that those originated from the attachments Tommy brought to the server. That, by cutting off his own attachments, exploiting everyone else’s, and getting rid of Tommy, he could restore the old status quo, before L’Manburg, before Tommy, when everything was peaceful and no conflict existed. Except, Tommy is too fun to fuck with, so instead of killing him, Dream was going to lock Tommy up in Pandora’s Vault, probably for the rest of his life, to continue breaking him.

This is a prime example of Dream falling for his own bullshit.

First of all, Tommy didn’t cause all those wars, he was actually on the receiving end of most of them. A vast majority of the wars and terrorism Tommy got caught up in were actually started by Dream, or Dream was actively helping the guy who started it.

Second, Tommy didn’t bring the concept of attachment to the server. He gets very attached to things, true, but attachment is a very basic part of the human condition. Even Dream, the guy openly shunning all attachment, isn't immune to it, in the end, he’s attached to the server as a whole, and Tommy, who he gave almost biblical importance in his narrative. Like Tommy said, if you have no attachment to things, why does anything matter at all?

Third, getting rid of Tommy and controlling the entire server with their attachments… that wouldn’t have restored the status quo, because the status quo exactly as Dream envisioned it never existed. He’s not chasing a past that was ruined by Tommy, he’s chasing an idealized fairytale version of the past where everyone was friends and frolicked around in the fields and there was never any conflict, before Tommy came along and ruined everything. Before Tommy joined, there was a SHIT ton of conflict, from minor disputes over theft, to the above-mentioned incident where Dream destroyed George’s stuff, to the lemon tree conflicts that wound up being taken to court!

Except, even this idea of Dream wanting to restore an idealized, made-up past is only partially true. What Dream is looking to return to and uphold is a world where he was the only authority and nobody questioned him. The status quo he wants to return to, no matter how much he denies it, is the one where everyone was at his mercy and he could do whatever he wanted without impunity. However, because he’s convinced himself that conflict is the issue, not disobedience, even if his plan succeeded, he’d have to keep the entire server in a chokehold to get them to follow his ideal plan.

Because conflict is inevitable. Anywhere where there’s two or more people sharing a space, you’re going to run into conflict at some point. People will have disagreements, they will fight, they will have miscommunications, they will have a bad day or accident and antagonize someone else.

Resolving these issues through conflict, whether it’s verbal, physical or legal, will result in a healthier community in the long run, because people’s pent-up frustrations will get an outlet, and people will try to hash out compromises or accommodations based on the reactions they get. It’s not always the ideal solution, but it’s better than just sitting everyone down, telling them to play nice, and smacking them over the back of the head as soon as they start complaining.

But conflict threatens the status quo. And as Dream involves himself in more and more conflict, they increasingly start threatening HIS status quo. So in order to maintain his status quo, conflict needs to be stomped out as soon as it crops up, no matter how minor it is.

So, now to paint a timeline through this lens.

Dream started off as the ultimate power on the server, able to do whatever he wanted without consequence. Tommy joined and threatened that status quo, but he was just one guy, so keeping him away and occupied wasn’t too hard. It was fun, even.

Then L’Manburg came, and posed the first substantial threat to Dream’s rule. Dream tried crushing this rebellion before it had a chance to take root, but in the end, Tommy traded his discs (the things Dream was using to control him) for L’Manburg’s independence. The status quo changed, L’Manburg was here to stay.

However, L’Manburg still posed a threat to Dream’s rule, so manipulating events to destroy it became Dream’s next priority. He supported Schlatt during the election in the hope he’d destabilize the nation, then sided with Pogtopia in secret to help overthrow the government, then helped Wilbur with the TNT to blow L’Manburg sky high, then betrayed Pogtopia for Schlatt’s side for the revival book. When Pogtopia won, Dream was egging Techno on through whispers to try to get him to go ape shit, so with Techno’s withers and Wilbur’s TNT, L’Manburg was gone, and the old status quo had been restored.

Except it hadn’t been. L’Manburg was rebuilt, with Tubbo at the helm this time, and a new status quo was put in place, with L’Manburg still there and still a threat. However, with Wilbur’s death, Tommy was left almost completely unprotected, and Dream took his chance to get Tommy thrown out of the country, hoping to get his biggest threat out of the way, as well as being able to sink his claws into the L’Manburg Cabinet.

Dream isolated Tommy in exile and tried to break him to the point where he wouldn’t put up any resistance. During this time, he also commissioned the prison, which he claimed to only be for the most dangerous members of the server, but is a pretty transparent attempt to enforce his rule by making a place where he can stick anyone who disobeys him. The server is slipping more and more out of his control, with more factions popping up and more people outright defying him, so like any dictator, he takes harsher and harsher measures to stay on top.

Tommy escapes exile, and while Dream is keeping tabs on him, he can’t directly control him anymore. So, to prevent Tommy from returning to L’Manburg and stopping his plans at disrupting the status quo, he blows up the community house, frames Tommy for it, and goes to Tubbo to demand Tommy’s disc, the only reason destroying L’Manburg was disadvantageous for him. Tommy jumps in to defend himself and takes L’Manburg’s side, but in the end, Dream takes both the discs, then destroys L’Manburg with Techno.

By this point, the status quo Dream wanted to craft is almost complete. L’Manburg is gone, there are no other major factions threatening his rule, and he’s pretty much set a precedent for what happens to dissenters. All he needs to do now is get rid of Tommy.

Except he can’t kill him. Over time, Dream has become obsessed with Tommy, to the point where he’s started seeing Tommy as the lynchpin of the server that everyone else gravitates around. Tommy is almost a living MacGuffin: he brings chaos and attachment which gives him power, but in the right hands, that power can be harnessed to create order.

(This is absolute nonsense of course, Tommy is just A Guy, his presence itself doesn’t create chaos, and controlling him doesn’t mean controlling the entire server because a lot of people just plain don’t give a shit.)

So instead of killing him, Dream tries to put him in prison. He even outright says that he wants to finish what he started in exile, this time with even tighter control and no possibility for escape.

He goes to kill Tubbo for multiple reasons: Tubbo is no longer useful to him, Tubbo can be used as leverage to keep Tommy compliant in prison (the possibility to revive someone’s best friend is a pretty valuable bargaining chip), and Tubbo would absolutely raise hell if Dream threw his best friend in jail for no reason.

If Dream had gotten his way, he’d be able to blackmail everyone on the server into compliance. Tommy, his scapegoat, would’ve been in prison, so now without a scapegoat, he could’ve probably gone one of two ways.

He could’ve created a new scapegoat to blame all new conflict on. Quackity would’ve been a good candidate, he’s VEHEMENTLY anti-Dream, and would’ve had no qualms about starting shit with him. Whether it was with El Rapids or with Las Nevadas, Quackity would’ve been the biggest anti-Dream voice in Tommy’s absence. So c!Dream would keep Quackity around, blaming him for everything that goes wrong… Until Quackity would get too uppity and either gets murdered or put in jail with Tommy, and the cycle repeats until either people rise up, or everyone who isn’t completely subservient is in prison.

Or, he could’ve cracked down EVEN HARDER on conflict. Anyone creating a new nation gets stomped into the dirt, anyone fighting over resources gets murdered, anyone squabbling over griefed property gets thrown in prison for weeks at a time, all the while their property and pets that they care about more than anything else get dangled in front of their noses. Anyone who’s ever read any more than five pages about the dynamics of dictatorships can see that this kind of repression is basically ASKING for revolution, especially since Dream has shunned all friendships at this point and his only ally is only there because Dream pays him.

(this is all speculation, we don’t know what would’ve actually happened, dont yell at me)

The status quo Dream is trying to return to never existed, and the one he creates in the process isn’t sustainable. Stopping every conflict ever is completely unsustainable and detrimental to the larger community, which Dream knows, because he uses conflict CONSTANTLY to get his way, while still presenting himself as a peacekeeper. What he’s really against is disruptions of the status quo, because the status quo allows him to do whatever he wants and control the server as much as he wants.

Conflict isn’t inherently bad. Some conflicts are harmless, some are necessary disruptions of the status quo. Conflict itself is morally neutral, and trying to prevent all conflict ever leads into some… iffy territory. Remember when Ranboo yelled at the L’Manburgians for participating in conflict the day before Doomsday?

Anyway. Please examine situations with more nuance than “conflict bad”, it’ll make for much better analysis. Trust me. /nm

#dream smp #dsmp analysis #dsmp meta #dreamwastaken #c!dream #idk if this made any sense at all #i feel like i just slapped a buncha stuff in a google doc and completely bullshitted a conclusion from it #but anyway #just something to think abt i guess

[moonbeamwritings]

relentless teasing

Summary: After another unfortunate encounter with Dio in the university library, you finally put an end to his endless teasing, much to his dismay. How is he going to get himself out of this one? (Modern/College AU)

Author’s Note: Hi! I’ve never written for Dio before, but I wanted to toy with him not being a murderer, but rather an emotionally incompetent, overly flirtatious college guy. Let me know what you think!

You glanced over your shoulder as you nestled into a corner of the library, praying that you wouldn’t see him. Or rather that he wouldn’t see you.

Dio Brando had elected to make you the newest object of his torments for reasons completely lost on you. He was relentless. Coming up behind you to purr in your ear, boasting about his prowess in the bedroom or on the rugby field. It never seemed to end.

Sure you found him attractive, most people did, but you couldn’t help feeling as though he was playing some elaborate prank on you. Maybe he had picked up on your shy behavior, looking to butter you up for the express purpose of ridiculing you after finding out that, in some dark corner of your mind, you have a crush on him. 

No thank you.

You had even gone so far as to change up your usual seat in the library, aiming to throw him off your trail to spare yourself from his presence. Barely even remembering how this cat-and-mouse game began, you prayed to whatever god would listen for some salvation from your own personal hell.

Pulling out your laptop, you lost yourself in an assignment, frantically typing out your responses as you relished in the peace and quiet.

“Funny seeing you here.”

You knew that voice.

Without even looking up, you replied, “Hi Dio.”

“Ouch,” he responded, dramatically landing in the chair next to you and wasting no time in slinging his arm along the back of your chair, “I can’t even get a look at your pretty face?”

The teasing lilt in his voice only served to make the situation worse. You felt your cheeks burn, seemingly working to fry your brain. Not good.

“What, love? Can’t speak? Cat got your tongue? Now, that’s just a shame,” His voice was a low purr, a deep rumble in his chest.

You were certain you were short circuiting.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he leaned impossibly closer, “I think you like me, no matter how hard you try to hide it.”

Feeling your stomach drop at being found out, your fingers drifted away from the keyboard and up to cover your face.

“God,” the sigh that left your mouth sounds much more defeated than you had meant it to, “it’s not funny, ya know?”

You risked a glance at his face just as an unreadable expression crossed his features, brows creasing as he leaned away from you.

“What are you saying?”

“I know you only do this to tease me and it’s not funny anymore.”

“Is that what you really-”

“Yes.”

You interrupted him before he could finish, tired of this song and dance. He stared at you for a moment and you almost felt guilty. He appeared so… defeated, like you’d single-handedly ruined his day.

“I didn’t realize my presence was that intolerable.” His tone was biting, more sour than you’d ever heard it.

“Dio, I didn’t mean-”

He moved to stand, “I’ll leave you to your work then.”

“Dio,” you pleaded again, but he wasn’t hearing it, strutting away without even a second glance.

Fuck. You hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, you just wanted him to be genuine. For once. Now he’d probably never speak to you again.

Leaving the library with a dejected sigh, Dio headed back to his apartment, fully prepared to throttle Jonathan. He had been the one to suggest that Dio pursue you, so certainly it was his fault that it had amounted to this.

Jonathan had seen Dio’s longing glances at you one too many times, both of them having shared multiple classes with you. He’d never seen Dio look at anyone like that, so he encouraged him to start talking to you. Little did Jonathan know that the Dio Brando Method bordered on ridicule and accentuated some of Dio’s worst qualities. The confidence, the playboy attitude, the teasing. He cringed just thinking about the times he had overheard Dio teasing you in the library, sounding more mean than anything else.

Slamming the door open, Dio started yelling before even seeing who was home, “Jonathan!”

Jonathan flinched at the sound, pausing the movie he and Erina had been watching, “What is it Dio?”

“Why won’t they give me the time of day? I try, do I not?” Dio practically threw himself on the empty chair, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling, diving right into a detailed account of his encounter with you.

Jonathan let out a hum, choosing his words very carefully so as to not instigate a blow-out. Erina didn’t deserve that.

“Maybe if you toned down the teasing you’d come off as more sincere,” he finally replied, observing Dio carefully.

“Ugh,” Dio groaned, doing nothing to hide his displeasure, “What do you know? I don’t even know why I asked.”

Jonathan was experienced, too experienced, in the art of drawing Dio back from the brink. Years of punches and fits of rage taught him at least that much.

“Do you want my help or not?”

“Yes.”

Erina chimed in, having been filled in on all of the drama by Jonathan, “Have you ever tried talking to them like a normal person?”

Dio shot up, pointing a finger in her direction, “Shut up. They’re not normal, it’s-”

“No way,” she replied, a knowing smile lighting up her face, “You really like them.”

“Just tell me how to fix it.” His voice bordered on a whine, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was you, in whatever way you’d have him.

“The next time you see them, just try talking to them. No teasing, no invading their personal space. Nothing.”

“But-”

Jonathan rolled his eyes, “You wanted my help didn’t you?”

Silence fell over the room for a long moment before Dio dragged himself up from his spot in the living room, “Fine. I’ll try.”

  Dio didn’t see you for another week. He couldn’t tell if you were avoiding him or if he was inadvertently avoiding you, growing uncharacteristically nervous at the thought of seeing you again. Nevertheless, he found himself longing to see you again. You always looked so cute when he saw you in the library, furrowed brow as you concentrated on your studies. Surely he couldn’t be entirely to blame for wanting to tease you a little bit, right?

Shaking his head, he found a spot at a vacant table near a large window, looking to get some homework done. Dio lost himself in his law textbook, furiously trying to accomplish an assignment all while thoughts of you swam in his head. After an hour of silence, he was startled by the sound of the chair across from him being pulled out.

It was like he was seeing an angel incarnate. You were standing in front of him with a small, almost sheepish smile on your face, backpack slung on one shoulder, hand gripping the chair in front of you. You’d never looked so beautiful.

“Sorry. Do you mind?” You asked, not wanting to intrude, especially after how poorly things had ended last time.

He shook his head, brain still trying to process what was happening.

“Dio I-” You let out a shaky breath, not quite meeting his gaze, “I’m sorry. About last time, I mean. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. It was-”

He interrupted you before you could go any further, “Don’t apologize. I was being an asshole.”

“No, that’s not-”

“Love, will you please just let me finish?”

He waited for you to nod before he continued, “I’m not used to this. I’m not used to caring or even apologizing, but you make me want to do both. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I do care about you and I’m sorry I made you think I was only talking to you to make fun of you.”

You sat there with your mouth slightly agape. He couldn’t be serious. No way.

“You’re serious?” You asked, hesitating to trust the situation, but remaining cautiously optimistic.

He nodded somewhat solemnly, afraid you’d reject him, “Yes.”

If Dio thought you were beautiful before, you were absolutely stunning now. The smile that graced your features was more than enough to blind him, but he’d gladly accept that fate if it meant that was the last thing he’d ever see. He felt his heart melt.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, starting to smile himself.

“I don’t know,” You responded with feigned innocence, “You tell me.”

He rolled his eyes, his smile slipping into a smirk, “That easy, huh? All I had to do was apologize?”

You shrugged, “Hmm, I think you owe me a date, Mr. Brando. Ya know, for the emotional damages.”

“Why you little,” He nearly lunged across the table at you, resting a hand along your neck as he pulled you into a searing kiss.

Maybe his teasing wasn’t so bad after all.

#dio brando x reader #dio brando imagine #dio x reader #dio imagine #jjba x reader #jjba imagine

[tossawary]

Chapter 29: “The Ringing Bells” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” quotes and commentary. Not a full list of favorite quotes or full commentary.

-

It’s just been him, Yue Qingyuan, and the not-so-modest Qiong Ding entourage befitting Cang Qiong Mountain Sect’s leader. Shang Qinghua and Yue Qingyuan still haven’t talked about anything personal (Shang Qinghua kind of hopes they never will!), but putting up a united front and then putting up with other sects seems to have brought them closer together again.

If Shang Qinghua had given in to his idea of bringing a flask of emergency wine in his sleeve, they could have made a drinking game or something every time someone managed to “casually” mention that Zhao Hua Temple Sect’s barrier techniques were the best in the world. With that face Yue Qingyuan made after the third, ear-gouging hour of listening to a long line of Zhao Hua experts condescend to them about security measures that will surely stop invading demons in their tracks, Shang Qinghua would have bet the man could have been talked into it. Big Bro would have been down, he’s sure.

-

AN: There is something immensely amusing to me that Yue Qingyuan and Shang Qinghua of all people run this sect (like, sure, SQQ and WQW and the other peak lords do stuff too, but YQY and SQH seem to be the ones who actually deal with worldly affairs and interact with people). To me, they both have such “I don’t want to be here” energy. YQY would rather be thinking about his slow reconciliation with Shen Qingqiu, and SQH would rather be daydreaming about the sexy ice demon he’s been betraying the sect for for 20 years. 

But nooo, they have to be responsible. 

Yue Qingyuan nearly dying at the end of SVSSS to me had such... vibes of relief? This man is carrying SO MUCH stress over his position and his responsibilities and appearances, that his reaction to dying seems to be at least a little bit: “Oh, time to put everything down. I can give up. I don’t have to be the invincible sect leader above it all anymore. Thank goodness.” You can fit so much trauma and unhealthy ideation in this man! 

Which is, I think, why this connection between SQH and YQY was a little inevitable in this story. They’re both carrying so much stress and trauma, and doing their best to not let anyone see it, so they really relate to each other but... in a way that’s kind of one-sided on both parts? Because SQH isn’t supposed to know shit about YQY’s past or pressures. And YQY doesn’t have the full picture of what SQH is dealing with at all. After their fight after SQQ died and SQH coming forward about their invasion, SQH and YQY are finally getting to have some more direct connection, but neither of them are willing to put their masks down yet. It goes against their natures and their perceived duties (as sect leader and a transmigrator/traitor) to honestly confide in each other. 

YQY and SQH both kind of have a “I know better than you” thing going on here. Yue Qingyuan because he’s the sect leader and he’s been taught that he has to manage himself and everyone else. Shang Qinghua because he’s a transmigrator and also... the fallen creator god of this world? 

- 

Yue Qingyuan is apparently just as eager to make it home as Shang Qinghua is. Their travel pace puts them a full day ahead of schedule, and Yue Qingyuan courteously sends his youngest personal assistant ahead via flying sword to warn the sect.

“Shen-Shixiong and Wei-Shixiong will need time to hide the mess from all the parties they’ve been throwing in our absence,” Shang Qinghua jokes.

Yue Qingyuan looks at him with polite but concerned bemusement.

“Aha, never mind, I’ll just… go check the last report my head disciples sent me again.”

None of them are expecting the assistant, who flew off with all the energy and eagerness of youth, to return only a little over an hour later. The assistant is red in the face and panting for breath. He collapses in front of Yue Qingyuan.

“Shizun, I-! I turned back as soon as I saw- in the distance-! The sect was on fire! Qiong Ding Peak was on fire!”

Yue Qingyuan and Shang Qinghua exchange a look of shock. When Shang Qinghua joked at the beginning of their journey that the sect would probably set itself on fire without them there to do damage control, he really was only joking! He’s had way too much of the shit he says coming true on him!

-

AN: I don’t think I’ve mentioned this yet, but Yue Qingyuan’s youngest assistant is the kid that Shen Qingqiu shoved on him from the House of Rejuvenation mess. Qi Qingqi and Liu Qingge picked up Luo Fanli from that, Shen Qingqiu picked up Fu Qiang from that, and Yue Qingyuan got this kid. 

He doesn’t have a name yet, but he’ll probably get one at some point. Probably in Part 4 when Shen Yuan and Fu Qiang’s story comes to the forefront. 

-

“Shishu!”

Shang Qinghua turns and gets an armful of nephew. Binghe’s arms wrap around him with no care for the bandage around one of them and Binghe’s warm face is buried into his neck - he’s so tall now - to share his dirt stains.

Shang Qinghua has no idea what to do. He wants to hug his very huggable nephew, of course, but in front of so many people?! He can’t just shove Binghe away either! Luckily, Binghe seems to realize his mistake about two seconds after contact and launches away from Shang Qinghua, bowing deeply enough to hide his face completely.

“Apologies for tripping, Shishu!”

Shang Qinghua nearly laughs. “Ah, ah, it’s fine. It’s fine.”

This is probably one of the worst kept secrets in the sect, anyway.

-

AN: This is absolutely a reference to Binghe pulling this trick in SVSSS canon, only unlike SY, Shang Qinghua recognizes the excuse. 

-

Luo Binghe clears his throat and intervenes before his friend can accidentally kill Shang Qinghua with kindness or something. “The demon saintess Sha Hualing and her followers attacked.”

“Oh,” Shang Qinghua says, relaxing a little.

 “Is that all?” he thinks. “Phew! Earlier than I was expecting, but okay!”

-

AN: It’s very funny to me to have CQMS going, “Demon attack! Demon attack! Totally unexpected demon attack!” And Shang Qinghua going, “Shit, I think I put that down on my calendar wrong. Did I put that down on my calendar...?” 

-

This apparently prompted Liu Mingyan and Luo Fanli to volunteer at the same time.

“They looked like they were going to argue over it, at first, or even fight over it,” Luo Binghe says. “Qi-Shigu and Liu-Shishu didn’t seem to want to let them fight, but they just ignored them and almost started a quick hand-game over who would get to fight. And then the demoness said… she said… she...”

“What?” Shang Qinghua asks.

Ning Yingying lifts her nose to the sky and declares, “She said: ‘If I get a say in this, I want to fight the pretty one in the veil, and not the old lady!’ So rude!”

“...Ah,” Shang Qinghua says again.

That explains the awkward grimace Binghe is making right now.

“Liu-Shijie and Luo-Shijie froze, then Luo-Shijie just looked at Shizun and Qi-Shigu and Liu-Shishu,” Ning Yingying continues. “ Snap! And then it was really quiet. And then Shizun said, ‘I’ll allow it.’ And Qi-Shigu and Liu-Shishu and even Liu-Shijie didn’t say anything.”

“Of course not! Shizun outranks them,” Ming Fan says.

As though that has ever honestly mattered to Liu Qingge or Qi Qingqi.

“So she got to fight the demoness,” Luo Binghe says, like it was a foregone conclusion that his stubborn auntie would get what she wanted. Who’s surprised about this? Not this long-suffering nephew!

-

AN: So, Sha Hualing made the “old lady” joke in front of 1) Qi Qingqi, Luo Fanli’s teacher who knows about her student’s past with the House of Rejuvenation, 2) Liu Mingyan, Luo Fanli’s friend who either knows about it or recognizes that LFL is touchy about her age, 3) Liu Qingge, LFL’s brother-in-law who also knows, and 4) Shen Qingqiu, who was THERE and that’s how they met. 

So, there’s sort of a collective, “If we don’t let Luo Fanli try to beat the shit out of this demon girl, we will never hear the fucking end of it,” here. 

Also, as soon as I made Luo Fanli into Liu Qingge’s apprentice of sorts, there was no way that she was NOT going to want to fight Sha Hualing, and it seemed a good way to shake things up from canon while also doing some stuff with the Fanli & Binghe relationship. I’m really trying to breathe new life into all the scenes that I’m redoing from SVSSS. 

-

“She kicked that demoness’ ass!” Ning Yingying squeals.  

“Ning Yingying!” Ming Fan hisses.

Shang Qinghua snorts. “Oh? Really?”

“It was rough,” Luo Binghe says, while Ning Yingying and Ming Fan both turn bright red realizing what she just said in front of a Peak Lord. Binghe, however, has totally heard Shang Qinghua say way worse than that. “The demoness was really good and really mean, and she kept getting up even after she got slammed into the ground, but eventually she got pinned and had to forfeit to keep her head. Fanli is still mostly in one piece. She’s over there right now with Mu-Shishu and Liu-Shishu.”

Shang Qinghua follows his nephew’s finger, then winces. His little sister-in-law looks pretty roughed up, her face is beginning to swell and she’s got a lot of claw marks, but she’s grinning up at Liu Qingge. Liu Qingge looks totally fine, besides some flecks of blood that must belong to other people, and is smiling down at her.

Mu Qingfang looks less than enthusiastic about all this as he treats Luo Fanli’s injuries of victory.

Aha, yeah, Liu Qingge is definitely the one explaining this to Luo Jiahui later.

-

AN: I really like building and having built up all these relationships. I like giving Binghe friends, even if they’re friends that he kind of runs rings around given his manipulative tendencies (NYY and MF rely on just grabbing him at this point and relying on sheer force of obliviousness/authority). I like giving Liu Qingge more connections in the form of Luo Fanli and Mu Qingfang too. 

This cast is... so big at this point. I didn’t really expect this when I started. 

-

Inside the cell is… a bloody demon girl who looks about fifteen-ish (sixteen-ish, maybe?), with dark hair in many braids, a sharp face and a sharper stare, and clothing that looks like it was made out of not nearly enough silk ribbons. Ah, wow, that’s way more skin than Shang Qinghua ever wanted to see of Sha Hualing. No jewelry at all, though, not even a belt. Not even boots or even slippers. Just lots of blood splatter.

Both Sha Hualing’s arms and legs have been restrained. She’s also been muzzled, though that doesn’t stop her from showing off her teeth in the least happy-looking smile anyone has ever smiled. There’s blood in Sha Hualing’s teeth! That’s blood there smeared around her mouth!

Qi Qingqi is in the cell too, utterly unimpressed, making sure that Sha Hualing is properly restrained and even treating an injury on the girl’s thigh. Demons are pretty tough, Sha Hualing would probably be fine, but Shang Qinghua supposes they can at least be a little kind toward the poor disciple who’ll have to mop the floors here later.

“So good of you to finally join us,” Shen Qingqiu says to Shang Qinghua. His voice is dry, as usual, but it might be missing its worst sharp edges? The man seems pleased at having caught himself a demon.

“Ah, I didn’t want to show up the sect leader with my speed,” Shang Qinghua replies.

That gets an amused look from Yue Qingyuan. “Let us speak elsewhere,” he says, politely admonishing everyone to shut up in front of their guest. “Qi-Shimei?”

“A moment,” Qi Qingqi says.

“Oh, don’t leave me all alooone,” Sha Hualing says, only slightly muffled by the muzzle, her eyes going wide and scared. “I’ll behave! This is really too much! These restraints are hurting me. Please… it’s making it hard for me to breathe, please…”  

Qi Qingqi ignores her and finishes up her work.

Yue Qingyuan lets the Xian Shu Peak Lord out and then seals the cell behind her. Shang Qinghua is familiar with those seals and yeah, there’s very little chance Sha Hualing is getting out of there on her own. The demoness complains loudly about being left behind in a cold and lonely cell. Shang Qinghua can still hear her wailing as Yue Qingyuan instructs the guards on, mainly, not letting anyone in and not taking any of Sha Hualing’s bait no matter what lies she tells.

If anyone gets “seduced” by that teenage girl - a trick pulled many times by the wily Sha Hualing in Proud Immortal Demon Way - Shang Qinghua is going to be so disappointed. Surprised? Not really! But still… depressingly disappointed!

- 

AN: It was... hm... important to me that none of the characters here actually sexualize Sha Hualing or disregard the fact that she’s very young to them. In his narration, Shang Qinghua mentions her skimpy clothes and the possibility of her seducing a guard, but it’s with the casual detachment of someone who was writing a stallion novel and knows the tropes. 

I wanted to focus more on the fact that Sha Hualing is not just a “wife character”, but an extremely dangerous non-human individual and already a minor political player, if currently trying to play outside her league. She’s an enemy. Also, just because she is currently playing outside her league doesn’t mean that she’s not dangerous and shouldn’t be taken seriously. 

All she needs is someone to get close and she will inflict life-long injuries. 

I also wanted to use her here for some Mobei-Jun stuff, which I’ll talk about later when I get to the Mobei-Jun part. 

-

“Shang-Shidi, do you recognize any of these materials?” Shen Qingqiu asks next, like he’s reading Shang Qinghua’s mind now! He looks so unimpressed by Shang Qinghua’s startle. “You are, after all, one of our experts on tracking down the source of such strange things.”

“Aha, off the top of my head? I couldn’t say! But… I would suspect part of this weapon came from the far north of the Demon Realm...”

Wei Qingwei finally looks up. “I would make the same guess,” he says, like a real bro. “If only this weapon hadn’t broken, we could have tested its limits of disruption! But our plans have been disrupted there… I’d like to see how something like this would go up against the different types of barriers out there.”

“Zhao Hua Temple’s barriers, perhaps?” Shen Qingqiu suggests.

Yue Qingyuan audibly sighs.

“Of course, they won’t wish to see proof that there are demon lords preparing to invade,” Shen Qingqiu says icily. “How remiss of me to forget that fact. What does it matter if a demon lord’s daughter was swinging around a previously unseen weapon like a child’s favorite new toy?”

-

AN: So, when I say that I want to breathe new life into the canon scenes that I’m redoing and reinterpreting, my goal for this one was to really... build up the upcoming Immortal Alliance Conference and actually connect Sha Hualing’s invasion to... well... anything. 

In SVSSS, Sha Hualing’s invasion happening is just following PIDW events apparently, and SVSSS in my opinion isn’t... really too interested in PIDW worldbuilding or Sha Hualing’s character from the standpoint that this really is a real world now. It’s all about Shen Yuan reliving the PIDW plot. 

So, if I’ve put 200,000+ words at this point into actually trying to establish that this is a real world, these are real people, there are real long-lasting politics and sect relations, that world elements aren’t just spawning into existence when the plot needs them and exist now, even if I’ve been doing so kind of as a joke because I think it’s funny to make Shang Qinghua deal with that, I wanted to actually try to place and connect Sha Hualing’s invasion to other story elements and place Sha Hualing’s character in relation to the others. 

Here, Sha Hualing’s invasion is a spoiled and violent child looking to make herself look good and cause trouble, as it is in SVSSS, but here it’s emphasized that Sha Hualing really is 1) a child, 2) a demon lord’s child, and 3) a future demon lord herself. And Sha Hualing is showing off her family’s inventions in preparation for the Immortal Alliance Conference. This is a move that has consequences for her and for Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, and will continue to have consequences for her (partially indebted to MBJ’s clan) and for Cang Qing Mountain Sect (it makes them look bad in front of the other Great Sects). 

-

“Shang-Shidi, do you recognize any of these materials?” Shen Qingqiu asks next, like he’s reading Shang Qinghua’s mind now! He looks so unimpressed by Shang Qinghua’s startle. “You are, after all, one of our experts on tracking down the source of such strange things.”

“Aha, off the top of my head? I couldn’t say! But… I would suspect part of this weapon came from the far north of the Demon Realm...”

Wei Qingwei finally looks up. “I would make the same guess,” he says, like a real bro. “If only this weapon hadn’t broken, we could have tested its limits of disruption! But our plans have been disrupted there… I’d like to see how something like this would go up against the different types of barriers out there.”

“Zhao Hua Temple’s barriers, perhaps?” Shen Qingqiu suggests.

Yue Qingyuan audibly sighs.

“Of course, they won’t wish to see proof that there are demon lords preparing to invade,” Shen Qingqiu says icily. “How remiss of me to forget that fact. What does it matter if a demon lord’s daughter was swinging around a previously unseen weapon like a child’s favorite new toy?”

-

AN: Me to myself: “...Is there canonical evidence that Mobei-Jun can read and write???” Because, like, the impression I get from this guy is that he basically raised himself and barely survived, so the System could interpret that to make an AU in which MBJ never learned to read or write. 

Mobei-Jun can read and write in “pride is not the word I’m looking for”, Shang Qinghua is just exaggerating here because he’s a little miffed. 

But it’s kind of tempting to write an AU now in which SQH realizes early-on in knowing MBJ that... his king can’t really read or write... his upbringing was so shitty and his father was so careless that MBJ never learned more than a few words that he picked up from context. That’s fucking horrifying. MBJ’s poor socialization and communication levels reach new heights! 

-

“It’s just that something like that happened before, remember, Uncle?” Binghe presses. “With the skinner demon? That same light and that same warm, almost burning feeling! It was different this time - that weapon wasn’t going to hit me, I was blocking it; I know that I was blocking it the right way - but it’s too similar, isn’t it?”

“It’s… very similar,” Shang Qinghua agrees slowly.

 “System?! Bro?! This is your fault!” he thinks. “Why the fuck are you leaving these explanations to me?! If you take points off me for any of this, you piece of shit, I’m going to find a way to strangle you, I swear! Preemptively: fuck off!”

Shang Qinghua lets himself visibly think about, trying to figure out what the fuck to say here. Binghe looks up at him like he’s trying to see into Shang Qinghua’s head to watch his thoughts come together. It’s a lot of pressure to put on a man all of a sudden! Binghe is too clever to be easily fooled by weak bullshit! How is a man supposed to come up with a decent lie under these circumstances?

“Well, ah, it’s happened when you’ve come into contact with demons who are trying to kill you, so it seems like it’s… some kind of unique reaction between that demonic energy and your spiritual energy,” Shang Qinghua says finally, because it’s better than explaining that there’s some shitty, no-good god-like being invested in a predestined plot. “Strange things happen sometimes in life-or-death situations, you know. Cultivators can accidentally pull off great feats sometimes when they’re desperate or panicked, without knowing how they did it.”

Binghe doesn’t look very reassured. Which makes sense, because a long-winded way of saying “I don’t know, it sounds like a freak accident to me” isn’t really reassuring.

-

AN: This, plus Sha Hualing’s invasion, is about Shang Qinghua’s coming up against the consequences of his choices. He can’t really have everything at once! He’s managed to have a lot all at once so far, but the time for Binghe’s demon reveal is coming closer, and Shang Qinghua is going to have to make some tough decisions and live with them. He’s going to have to deal with the people in his life having opinions on his tough decisions. 

Shang Qinghua is trying to keep the System happy, with his eyes on the end goal of keeping Binghe out of the Abyss, which makes him unwilling to take certain risks deviating from the plot. But, if you’re looking at it from the perspective of someone who doesn’t know about the System or the plot, Shang Qinghua’s decision-making seems completely illogical. 

Binghe is too clever not to at least notice that there’s some bullshit happening here. He doesn’t know what his uncle isn’t telling him, but Shang Qinghua isn’t the greatest bold-faced liar, so he knows there’s something. 

- 

At the end of the day, Shang Qinghua leaves his fellow Peak Lords (Shen Qingqiu, Qi Qingqi, Liu Qingge, and Tang Qingling) arguing in circles over cold trails (Yue Qingyuan is stuck refereeing, poor bastard). He returns to his Leisure House and finds a familiar ice demon lounging in his sitting room, eating some of his snacks.

“My king, did you help Sha Hualing escape?!” Shang Qinghua demands.

“She did not contribute,” Mobei-Jun answers.

Mobei-Jun looks good, like breaking in and out of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect last night was no trouble for him. Why would it be any trouble for him? He’s been doing it for years and years without getting caught, after all!

“How did you bypass the cell’s seals so cleanly?” Shang Qinghua wonders, as he puts some papers aside and kicks off his boots.

The cell doors hadn’t been ripped off its hinges, just… taken off like they were never attached… which combined with the ice-related injuries on the guards, plus the fact that the intruder slipped in like a shadow and left the same way, kind of gave the whole thing away.

Mobei-Jun raises his eyebrows. “You have shown me many such protections.”

“Ah… yeah… I guess I did do that.”

-

AN: Presenting Sha Hualing as I did: a dangerous and political figure even though she’s only a teenager, was also meant to reflect on Shang Qinghua’s relationship with Mobei-Jun. Mobei-Jun is the enemy. Mobei-Jun may be on Shang Qinghua’s side and his own side, but he is not on Cang Qiong Mountain Sect’s side and he has loyalties to people in direct opposition to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. 

Sha Hualing is, in many ways, Mobei-Jun’s people. He’s completely unfazed by her violence. To him, Sha Hualing’s behavior is normal and expected, if the foolishness and arrogance of someone trying to act grown-up. He is not human. He is from a completely different world to Shang Qinghua. 

And their separate worlds are now colliding. 

Shang Qinghua really can’t have everything he wants here. He’s a traitor and, realistically, he can’t expect that not to come out sooner or later. He’s making decisions for the sect (releasing SHL to prevent another demon invasion (and also to keep the plot on track)) that Yue Qingyuan might have agreed with if he knew the full picture of SQH’s spying (all he knows at the moment is that SQH has informants), but that YQY doesn’t know about and so can’t agree with, so SQH is acting beyond his authority letting MBJ break SHL out. 

It’s a mess! It’s not sustainable! Shang Qinghua’s old character role and his new character role can’t continue to coexist like this. 

-

Thinking of worrying unnecessarily, desperate to change the subject away from the looming plot, Shang Qinghua brings up the very important subject of Mobei-Jun possibly, maybe, if he has the time, letting him know when to expect him, when he’s going somewhere, and when he’ll be back. He’s brought this up before, though mostly in a “my king, this humble servant would really appreciate it if you at least learned to knock, but if that’s too much to ask, it’s fine, it’s really fine, never mind, forget I brought it up” kind of way.

He only realizes just how daring it sounds after he says it! He’s always kind of figured that the proud Mobei-Jun would take offense to the concept of being at Shang Qinghua’s beck and call in any way. Why would Mobei-Jun need to explain himself?

“Why?” Mobei-Jun even says.

“...Why?” Shang Qinghua repeats, kind of hoping that he wouldn't have to explain the things he asks for. Mobei-Jun said he could ask for things, but he has to explain himself too? That's really too much. “I didn’t get to see you at all while I was gone! I got back and I didn’t know when I’d get to see you again, my king.”

This gets him another random pinch to the cheek, but it also gets him another surprising kiss. Mobei-Jun is apparently not even a little bit offended by this request. So it’s fine! This one thing, at least, is really fine.

-

AN: But Mobei-Jun is also becoming one of SQH’s rocks in many ways! This relationship is new and exciting and comforting! Giving up or betraying Mobei-Jun is completely out of the question for Shang Qinghua. 

I’m kind of fucking loving these secret forbidden romance vibes. 

If Shang Qinghua asked, Mobei-Jun would whisk him away from everything right now, but he understands that Shang Qinghua needs to be here for his nephew, his sister-in-laws, and his students. With his father as king, Mobei-Jun doesn’t have the position or authority yet to make any kind of peace with CQMS. MBJ’s relationship with SQH could get him in deep shit with his father, with his uncle, and with other demon lords. 

Shang Qinghua is a filthy traitor and he’s dragging MBJ down with him. 

#tossawary commentary #tossawary svsss #pride is not the word

[manifestoonmoralmanlove]

What will be in my bag? Pre-ordered Manga. Straight and Lez edition.

Here’s a list of English-released manga I’ve currently got on pre-order, and manga series I ordered before but won’t be continuing with the series.

As a note: Some of these titles have been released but I have not received them yet due to a issues with covid backlog effected how things are released.  I personally find that if you pre-order it tends to get you manga quicker.  It seems there is more pressure to keep up with the new release schedule than chip away at the backlog.

I’m starting with the stuff I’ve already read some of and confirmed enjoyment, then stuff I’m shooting in the dark for, and finally series I have tried recently and have discontinued.

Heteros

My Androgynous Boyfriend

Story & Art by: Tamekou      Publisher: Seven Seas

It is rare for straight shit to end up in my library but My Androgynous boyfriend is an exception that will surprise no-one since it’s pretty queer adjacent.  This story is mostly a couple being lovey-dovey between jokes about sexuality and gender but (so far) isn’t problematic at all.  The female lead is quite enjoyable as she’s well-balanced and has agency throughout. There’s even ace representation! It’s very low-stakes, wholesome, and sweet so far. (Volume 3 is set to release in November.)

My Excitement Level: The gentle about to sink into a bubble bath variety

Yuri/Lesbian

Even Though We’re Adults

Story & Art by: Takako Shimura  Publisher: Seven Seas

Takako is also the creator of Sweet Blue Flowers and Wandering son.  I have dipped by toe in to both those series.  I overall find their writing kinda meandering and tepid (might just be me) but technically pretty solid.  I am hopeful for this series since it features adults....if the title didn’t make it obvious.  I was intrigued by the one character being married but the man finding out about the affair quickly and reacting more realistically and interestingly than the average male love interest in a Yuri.  I also found myself relating at bit to Akari’s angst about being unlucky with relationships with women.  I also do enjoy the artwork! This one is the most likely of my followed series to be dropped at some point. (Volume 2 of this manga was set to release in June this year.)

My Excitement Level: Cautious Optimism

For more click the jump!

Kase-san and Yamada

Story & Art by: Hiromi Takashima  Publisher: Seven Seas

This is a series I keep going back to.  While it is the very typical low-stakes bubbly, cutesy School age Yuri...it is a very good version of that.  Just warm bubble bath vibes. (Volume 7 is set to release in February of next year.  I think it was originally supposed to be released this May but was bumped back.)

My Excitement Level: The gentle about to sink into a bubble bath variety

NOW ONTO THE SERIES I HAVEN’T READ BUT I’M TAKING A CHANCE ON!

Adachi and Shimaura

Art: Moke Yuzuhara Story: Hitoma Iruma  Publisher: Yen Press

This, as I understand it, is a slow-burn romance about two delinquent girls.  I have heard good things about the novel and the anime series!  However I prefer manga to novels and don’t have a funimation account so I went to snag it in manga form. (Volume 1 was set to release in February this year and 2 in September)

My Excitement Level: Cautious Optimism

The Girl I want is so handsome!

Story & Art by:Yuama     Publisher: Seven Seas

The premise is a young lady has a crush on a handsome older girl who’s oblivious to her advances.  When she tries to confess she instead gets roped into being the club manager of the basketball team that her crush is a part of.  So it feels like it may end up cycling through 2 jokes and be so deep in the stereotypical manga bullshit you can easily-predict its beats volumes in advance. HOWEVER that is also a premise that is similar to Monthly Girls' Nozaki-kun which is legitimately a hilarious series. Also I fucking love butch/stud/masc-presenting women/AFAB people.  So I’m willing to risk “The same Anime bullshit” for good jokes and a cute lezzy romance with a beautiful butch.  (Volume 1 is set to release of December of this year.)

My Excitement Level: Pretty nervous actually.  I hope it works out!

Monologue Woven for You

Story & Art by: Syu Yasaka     Publisher: Seven Seas

A woman gives up on a career in theater gets tangled in a relationship with a woman passionately pursuing theater.  Since it is set between college age women, and appears to be about more personal and mature themes I am interested. (Volume 1 I BELIEVE is supposed to be released in February of next year.)

My Excitement Level: Cautious Optimism

Mizuno and Chayama (No page yet so far as I can tell.)

Story & Art by: Yuhta Nishio     Publisher: Yen Press

Two daughters of feuding families meet in secret.  This is by the same author of After Hours.  I read a bit of After Hours and found it fine but boring since it seemed without conflict.  Conflict doesn’t seem to be in short supply with a story like this!  While I enjoy the sugary-sweet high school lesbian romances...those are not in short-supply. So I am always hungry for something darker, meatier, more mature. (Volume 1 is set to release next February) 

My Excitement Level: Cautious Optimism

5 Seconds Before The Witch Falls In Love

Story & Art by:  Zeniko Sumiya     Publisher: Seven Seas

It appears to be a playful fantasy about a Witch and Witch-hunter who’s antagonism turns romantic.  This may end up one note and stupid...but I’m always hear for queer romances set in high-fantasy and I haven’t read a Yuri where rivals turns to lovers. (Volume 1 is set to release next February)  

My Excitement Level: Low-key

Catch These Hands! (No page yet so far as I can tell.)

Story & Art by: Murata     Publisher: Yen Press 

A former delinquent runs into her high school rival.  After losing a fight to her she agrees to her terms...her terms being to go out on a date with her.  I mean the title alone makes me want to pick it up!  It may run afoul of bad anime humor, but I’m hoping with the fact that it’s full of gay adult delinquents that it’ll be a little different.  (Volume 1 is set to release next February)  

My Excitement Level: Medium-key

Series I have discontinued:

I’m in love with the Villainess

Art by: Aonoshimo  Story by:  Inori   Publisher: Seven Seas

A woman gets reborn into her favorite Otome game but she wants to romance the villiain!  I had heard a ton of great things about the novel but I picked up the manga version. (If the novel is totally different I can’t speak to it.)  For me, the writing is ham-handed, the jokes flop 90% of the time, and the fact the lead’s only personality trait seems to be ~obsessed with a bully~ really dampens this title.  Her advances are so aggressive and unwanted I honestly started feeling bad for a spoiled rich bully.  I will say it’s saving grace is the fact that the lead is masochistically into the villainess’ tsundere abusiveness. For me I hate tsundere romances if framed like, “I like you DESPITE your insults.” It is only tolerable if it’s instead, “I like you cause you tell it like it is. I’m a dirty little pig. Please step on this bad little piggy!”

Our Teachers are Dating

Story & Art by: Pikachi Ohi      Publisher: Seven Seas

Well one reason I stopped the series is that cover you see up there.  The sex in this series is fade to black but FOR SOME REASON the 3rd cover has them both butt naked.  But on a less superficial note, the story is about two teachers who start dating.  And while cute at points, I was just underwhelmed.  I think a part of it, is the fact that this behaves like a stereotypical high school romance...and while set in a high school...these are grown ass women not 15 year olds.  So I have less patience with the, “Gosh when will I get to kiss my girlfriend?” bullshit.  I mean, I would hesitate to call it bad...but it’s just not a good version of it’s brand of bullshit.

Breath of Flowers

Story & Art by: Caly                       Publisher: Tokyopop

Absolute train-wreck, this is hands down the worst Yuri I have ever bought.  The story is nonsensical and all over the place.  There is a love rival who’s trying to break the two of them up so she can get with Gwyn...but then switches mid-gear to put in a lot of effort to bring them together intentionally...but she also still wants to hook up with Gwyn...it’s very ????????????  The main conflict of Gwyn is hiding their gender so they can play basketball on the boy’s team (not well explained) is built up hugely and resolved with a hand flick.  There is a melodramatic moment where a school nurse says more or less, “GIVE IT UP YOU’LL NEVER BE A BOY!” And it’s like “OH SHIT! The fact that Gwyn is on the basketball team is cause he’s a transboy trying to live life as a boy! Oh gosh it makes so much more sense now!”  But the author seems to not even know that trans people exist cause the story bumbles along as if that scene never happened.  The closest we get is at the end Gwyn is like, “Look I’m learning to do make-up on myself to make you happy lawl!” Which is I GUESS supposed to be, “NO NO DON’T WORRY ALL OF GWYN’S GENDER STUFF WAS JUST THERE TO MAKE THE MAIN CHARACTER SEXUALLY CONFUSED WHEN SHE DISCOVERS GWYN’S TRUE GENDER!  HER TRUE GENDER IS 100% CIS WOMAN CAUSE SHE DID MAKE-UP ONCE! IT’S FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!” Like whaaaaaaaaat?  And it ends on a very random scene which doesn’t really fit in with the rest of the story.  Ugh just very bad do not interact!

A White Rose in Bloom

Story & Art by: Asumiko Nakamura    Publisher: Seven Seas

At an all girls catholic school a young woman falls for a mysterious foreign student.  I grabbed this cause it’s gay and I overall like Asumiko Nakamura’s work (she also does Doukyusei, double mints, and others.)  However I was just not grabbed with this title.  I just felt like I wasn’t getting what was making the MC pants on head obsessed with Steph.  Also the lead’s mother tells her that she’s getting divorced and therefore will no longer have money to pay for the university and she’s framed like a super bad person for this.  Like I get why the MC (a teenager) would think that something like that is THE END OF THE WORLD! But I remember them really framing the mom like a selfish bitch for this...when like...it’s well established that her mom and dad’s relationship has been toxic for YEARS and that they TRIED SO HARD to fix it.  OH WELL!  This might be good but it just didn’t grab me in the 1st volume.

I’ll make a post on the BL titles later! Take care and Stay Rotten!

#preorder #my androgynous boyfriend #kase-san and yamada #even though we're adults #Adachi and Shimaura #the girl I want is so handsome #white rose in bloom #our teachers are dating #breath of flowers #catch these hands #I'm in love with the villainess #Mizuno and Chayama #monologue woven for you #5 seconds before the witch falls in love