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serendipityjxmn · 3 years

Text

Mr. President

Chapter 4

TW: None

Words Count: 3k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 5

There are several moments in our life that we may call life-changing. And from those life-changing moments, there are the ones that you’ve been waiting for your whole life that you imagine so much on how it’s going to happen. There are also the ones that come when you least expect it, you don’t even have time to react.

But there are also the events where you’ve been been waiting- dreaming for, and somehow it turns into something you least expect.

It’s funny how we think that if we imagine and plan one thing for a long time, when it finally happens, it would happen exactly the way you imagine it to be- spare the few millimetres of difference which you perhaps could look over. Take for instance, a wedding event. People- girls typically- imagine it beforehand and when it happens, it happens exactly the way they imagine it to be.

You might not have the luxury to conjure your dream wedding in your mind ever since you’re young, or plan it meticulously to every detail, or imagining the colour of your dress or how long it would be, but to the very least, you did imagine that you’d be marrying some knight in shining armour in modern version - which translates to a decent enough guy.

Someone who’s kind, can generally be communicated with, not involved in fights - a normal person.

How funny that the dreams can easily be shattered.

Here you are, alone in the large bedroom and contemplating about your life decision. You married Park Jimin three days ago. The wedding was private, only signings of papers involved though Jimin had to do a press conference shortly after which was only attended by him to inform his marriage. He told you it was better off for you to stay out of public so that they don’t follow you after your divorce. Of course, you thought, since the marriage is temporary.

Everything happened very fast that day. Too fast for you to process anything that somehow it still feels surreal that you’re married. You’ve exchanged very few words with your husband too but somehow they’re all etched in your mind.

During the signing of documents, which basically all there is to your wedding, he barely says anything to you at all except when the priest asks and he only stares at you deeply while uttering the word ‘I do.’ When his hands briefly brush with yours to put a ring on your finger, you suddenly felt an overwhelming feeling- you felt scared, anxious of this new life yet there’s also a twisted feeling of you being safe, perhaps because you now have a house though you can’t call it home just yet.

The house had been particularly empty ever since you moved in. Jimin wasn’t around, didn’t even bother mentioning where he would be and you’re left wondering on your own whether he has another house or he’s sleeping anywhere else but his house. If it’s the latter, you can’t help but feel guilty for ‘taking his home away’. He could’ve just stay here and you can sleep in the guest room or the couch at that.

With your newfound freedom and due to boredom that’s starting to take over as well as lack of people to communicate with, you start to roam around and explore the house. You learn that Mrs. Lee doesn’t live here as you originally thought but usually available every one or two days and mostly during daytime. She cooks and leaves the meal wrapped in foils for Jimin to reheat whenever he wants.

Mrs. Lee has also been nothing but pleasant enough to tell you most of the things she know about your husband. She told you that Jimin’s a very private person so she may not know much about his personal matter apart from the fact that Jimin will be inheriting Park Corporations from his father though Jimin himself did build himself together with his group of close friends, a tech company which went public about a year ago.

You find yourself getting more curious about your husband though he’s barely around. You learn about his favourite dishes too, one of them being kimchi jigae stew which Mrs. Lee very kindly taught you how to make. You admit that at first you think it is all useless to get to know about Jimin but then you also think that there’s no harm in learning about him even though the marriage’s temporary, nothing’s stated that you can’t have a civil relationship with him, perhaps as a friend.

This goes on for about a week, of you exploring and sitting down having conversations with Mrs. Lee though some day you’d rest on your bed, your body not entirely well enough to do a lot of activities everyday. Your ribs still shooting jarring pains every now and then and your lips are still torn. You silently thank Mrs. Lee for coming to your room, leaving medicines on the table on days when you feel extra tired.

You’re in your bedroom, standing right in front of your huge closet, eyeing the clothes though there’s none that was originally yours. When you moved in, it had been practically easy, you literally brought nothing with you since you don’t have much anyways. Mrs. Lee did inform clothes for you to wear had been bought prior to your wedding.

Though the thing is… almost every single one of them are dresses. They are pretty, you think. It’s just that you are not used to it. You sigh as you find yourself a pyjama set. They’re all mostly satin and silks too, another thing you have to get used to as well.

You sit on the edge of your bed, playing with your wedding ring, briefly wondering whether this is how your life is going to be from now on. It’s temporary, your brain reminds you. You frown. You’ve been wondering almost every single day without fail on why did Jimin decide to propose a marriage contract with you. There’s nothing you could give back, nothing that could benefit him any way no matter how you think about it. It is temporary, yes but you doubt he would do this if it doesn’t give him any benefit. He doesn’t strike you as someone kind enough to jeopardise his married life out of charity. You still shudder to this day thinking about how he handled your brother to half dead. You sigh, hands tightening on your pyjama as your thought goes to your brother.

A knock on the door startles you, making a gasp escape your mouth. Jimin enters, looking as gorgeous as when you first met him in his working attire without the blazer. He stops dead when he takes you in just your towel and you quickly place your hands on your chest in a meek attempt to cover your modest parts. He looks awkward, looking everywhere but you.

“Get dressed. My friends’ here.” He says simply before turning his back but then he stops and turns again, this time looking straight at your face. You feel a blush creeping at your cheeks immediately. “Put some makeup on or something. They might think I’m beating you.” At his words, you have no idea why your hands instantly went to your thigh, immediately conscious at the ugly slit on your thigh. He clears his throat before retreating and closing the door behind him.

You realise you didn’t breathe at all throughout the whole encounter. As you make your way back to your closet to find yourself a dress, you wonder if Jimin realises this is his first time seeing you in about a week after your wedding. Perhaps not.

Brushing your hair, you swallow a little as you watch your own reflection in the mirror. You still look sick and pale so you make an effort to cover the wound on your forehead with some powder and also put on some lipstick, Jimin’s words echoing in your head.

Bracing yourself, you can’t help but feel nervous as you make your way downstairs. You’re excited too since you haven’t been speaking to anyone but Mrs. Lee for almost a week. Before you could descend the last step of the stairs, you could hear them before you could see them. The sound of laughter fills the house making you wonder how many of them came.

You make your way to the living room and Jimin turns immediately, making you momentarily blinded with the way he’s smiling at you. The others notice you right away while Jimin saunters towards you. He leans down, close to you.

“They don’t really know about our contract except for Taehyung, so act your part.” With the way he’s smiling at you, you’d think he’s the sweetest husband in the world yet the threat lacing his words tells you otherwise. Suddenly, you feel very very afraid.

Still, you follow behind him silently, heart suddenly flutters when you see him wearing his wedding ring. He didn’t really have to.. does he? You only look up when he stops in his tracks. You’re met with six gorgeous guys in front of you.

“Wow, you actually exist!” A guy with very sharp nose and jawline grins widely at you. He seems like a very cheerful guy. “Nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Hoseok.” He waves at you, all white teeth flashing.

Unknowingly, you beam back at him, almost impossible not to with the bright energy he exudes. You reply back softly, not daring to say much since you’re unsure how to act, especially with Jimin around.

“Jimin’s been keeping you in his house so much, we thought we’d never see you.” The next one smiles kindly at you. You wish you could describe how beautiful he is. Tall, all broad shouldered and not to mention such blinding visuals. He speaks with such grace you immediately feel endeared by him. “My name is Jin.” You smile back at him.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Park. I’m Namjoon. I can see why he’s keeping you at home. You’re very pretty.” A tall guy with blonde hair smiles brightly at you. He even has dimples on each side of his cheeks and you can’t help but marvel at his gorgeous face. You can’t help the blush that creeps to your cheeks when he mentions your new last name as well as his compliment.

You peek slightly at Jimin but he only stares impassively ahead, not giving anything away. You quickly brush off the slight disappointment you feel.

“I’m Yoongi. Nice to meet you.” The guy in red-wine hair smiles at you. He’s slightly shorter than the rest of them but is still handsome. You nod at him as you smile kindly back at him.

“We’ve met before.” Taehyung smiles warmly at you and you nod back several times at him, happy to see someone you know.

The last but not least, is almost as tall as Namjoon and Jin but you can somehow tell he’s the youngest among them. “Hello Y/N. I’m Jungkook. We’re same age!” He says happily and you grin at him too, quickly falling for his bright smile with cute bunny teeth. You greet all of them back, introducing yourself again although they already know your name.

“Please have a seat. I’ll prepare drinks for you guys.” You say softly.

“Oh, no, it’s okay. We’re just here to drop Jimin off.” Jin quickly says.

“And hoping to see you too,” Hoseok winks at you. The rest of them gathers at the front door.

You frown slightly at Jin’s sentence. Then you turn towards Jimin, eyes finding him to ask him a question but unsure whether you’re allowed to. He must’ve sensed your stare, his eyes look down to meet yours.

“Y-you’re.. sleeping here..?” You ask slowly.

Before Jimin could answer, Namjoon cut him off. “Sorry we’ve been keeping him at the office too much. There’s an acquisition ongoing in the company so we’re quite busy at the moment.”

So he’s been sleeping at the office…

“But rest assured, we’ll make sure he’ll be home often now. The crucial part is done.” Hoseok says teasingly at you.

You smile, though slightly weirded how you feel pleasant with the fact that he’ll be home a lot now. Perhaps you’re just happy you won’t be alone now.. yes probably that.

They all say their goodbye and you happily wave them off.

As soon as they left, you’re suddenly hit with the realisation that you’re alone with Jimin in the house. As if on cue, you feel your hair rise when you feel a heavy presence behind you. You turn but immediately regrets the decision because Jimin is now inches from your face. Too close… you think. Nerves run down your spine as he seems to lean even closer to you. You swear your heart’s beating like crazy right now.

“So what did you do around the house the past week?” His question’s innocent but why do you feel like a rabbit trapped in a hole?

To your relief, he straightens. You feel like you could finally breathe, although your heart’s still beating at an abnormal pace. You swallow. “N-nothing much.” Is that the first thing he’s asking after a whole week of leaving you alone?

He stares at you while you make an effort to look anywhere but him. You’d give anything to know what’s on his mind. He then turns without saying anything. You take the time to stabilise your breathing, inhaling and exhaling deeply before slowly making your way back to the bedroom, noting how your heart rate is picking up its pace.

You open the door to your bedroom and let out a gasp when you find yourself walking on Jimin shirtless. You turn instantly, unable to think properly and let out another gasp when you knock your head on the door.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His voice asks you harshly, making you jump.

You mutter an apology as you scrunch your face, thinking how this has gone completely wrong. You did not want to make such a bad first impression towards Jimin.

“H-have you eaten?” Your voice came out so meekly you almost want to hit your head against the door again.

“Do you think I have some kind of supernatural hearing to hear you from that far?” He snaps at you, making you flinch. You swallow and trepidation starts to fill you whole.

You turn slowly and approaches him, eyes shut tight to prevent yourself from seeing anything you shouldn’t and protecting the innocence of your own eyes but end up almost stumbling. You open your eyes, relieved that he’s now wearing a shirt. You briefly wonder how on earth he could look so handsome just by wearing a plain black shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He’s staring at you, obviously unimpressed at your antics.

“I’m asking if you’ve eaten? If you want to I can-“

“I already ate. With the boys.” He cut you off then takes his place on the bed, preparing to sleep.

Oh. Okay. You nod. You stand there awkwardly, contemplating whether you should ask the next question that has been on your mind since last week.

“Are you just gonna stand there creepily and stare while I’m trying to sleep?” He snaps back at you and you flinch. He’s sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard, waist and leg completely covered by the blanket.

You fidget with the hem of your dress. “I- I want to ask you something.” He doesn’t answer you but only looks at his phone. “Why.. why did you offer me the marriage contract?”

He stops his act and is now staring at you sharply. “Having second thoughts now that you realise it’s not all hearts and flowers?” He smirks.

“N-no.. not like that.. I know.. I don’t deserve all that.. It’s just that- I was just curious.. You could’ve just hire me or.. just..” You trail off, unsure of how to put everything into words when your mind is a whole chaos. “It’s just that I don’t see how you’re benefitting from this arrangement.”

“Oh trust me, I do have my benefits in this.” He answers almost immediately and you stare at him, puzzled. He smirks before his face turns sinister. “You’re only here because you owe me a debt. That means I own your little life, mine to do whatever I want.” Psychotic, the word echoes in your mind. “And trust me little one, you’re better off not knowing the reason behind this marriage.”

What on earth have you gotten yourself into?

Your blood runs cold. Without uttering another word, you turn to grab your pyjama you took out before and disappears towards the bathroom. You take your time in the bathroom, trying to calm your nerves as you change. Tonight, you come into a conclusion. Park Jimin’s psychotic.. and a very dangerous man. You should never cross line with him.

Hands balling into a fist, you step out of the bathroom and finds the bedroom in darkness except for the table lamp on your side of the bed. Jimin appears already asleep. You approach silently and takes the time to stare at his face. He’s very beautiful, you would think, if you didn’t know better of it only being a mask.

You stand on the edge of the bed for several moments, contemplating whether you’re allowed to sleep on the bed with him. The King size bed is large enough without the two of you having the possibility of coming in contact with each other yet you’re still having second thoughts about it. You don’t want to wake up being strangled by him just because you decided to sleep on the same bed with him. So you make your way to the couch on the side of the bedroom and curls yourself on it. Using your hands as your own pillow, you fall asleep quickly.

Link to Chapter 5

Posted on 210402 9:00PM

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnmrpresident #mrpresident #bts fic #jimin fic #jimin au #park jimin #parkjimin #jimin smut #smut #kpop #mafia #jimin mafia #ceo jimin #bts smut #bts au #bts mafia

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mandoinevarro · 4 years

Text

An Overdue Debt

Words: 4.3K

Rating: E

Warnings: Smut, fingering, mentions of violence, spoilers for The Mandalorian

a/n: rip IG-11 but im different

The Mandalorian had gotten used to finding you on his cot. On the nights he’d manage to make it back to the ship, after capturing quarry or escaping bounty hunters chasing the child; after making it out of every peril that crossed his path within an inch of his life day after exhausting day, he’d climb the ramp and find you on his cot.

Usually, by the time the hunter had shut the hull and carbon frozen his bounties, the baby would already be asleep, the ship orderly, and all controls double-checked and ready for takeoff. You were thorough. It seemed to him like you had a sixth sense. From the day he’d hired you, he’d seen you tinkle with every item in the sad collection of the Razor Crest’s old and overused equipment that would’ve fallen apart otherwise. You would oil his gear, check controls, and do any number of things to facilitate the smooth sailing of his ship.

He hadn’t heard the kid cry in weeks. Before the tiny infant could get a chance to work some tears out of his sooty eyes, you were already feeding him, burping him, or providing him with whatever it was that would sooth the surging tantrum immediately. It amazed him how you seemed to be able to fix just about everything you’d touch with those soft little hands of yours. The same hands that he would imagine fondly tracing every dip and scar on his chest and raising goosebumps on his skin, on the days when he’d feel particularly lonely.

Little by little, you’d repaired, oiled, and mended your way into the Mandalorian’s existence, making yourself a crucial part of his everyday life. It only took a couple of weeks for the bounty hunter to realize how essentially fucked he’d be if you ever decided to leave for a more promising and peaceful future than he could ever offer you. Sometimes, he’d study the patched up cables that stuck out of bullet holes on walls and the monitors that had stopped glitching so often ever since you’d focused your attention on them. He would envy the lifeless machinery then, for having the privilege of benefitting from your careful ministrations. The Mandalorian had wondered whether you’d also be willing to offer your healing touch to him, who—as far as you knew from the beskar that covered every inch of his human self and the modulated voice that filtered out all emotional depth—was half a machine himself.

Eventually, he had obtained his answer.

You’d responded to his mute question after he’d gone back for the kid in Nevarro. The bounty hunter had told you to wait for him on the ship, but hadn’t mentioned his intentions in the gray city. He’d only left you with the ominous instruction to take the Crest and never come back to the planet if he wasn’t back in an hour.

After three and a half hours of shooting his way out of the contained battle he’d unleashed near the gates of the city, he hadn’t expected to see the Razor Crest unmoving in the darkening horizon, right where he’d left it. He definitely hadn’t expected the rush of relief that made his spine dissolve when he found you still waiting for him once he’d climbed back through the hull—your eyes sunken in their sockets with concern and your lips chaffed from anxious biting—nor the way your gaze softened at the swampy child he knew you’d both learned to love.

You hadn’t asked any questions when you took the baby and carried him to the cockpit to cradle him in your arms. You hadn’t talked to him as, once in hyperspace, you and the Mandalorian had crafted a makeshift crib together for the sleeping kid from a rectangular metal container and some old rags. Adrenaline and urgency still beating like drums in his ears after such a close encounter with death, he hadn’t dared say a word either, out of fear of what he might reveal to you in his delirium.

But you’d known.

Somehow, among the aftershocks of fighting and below the cluster of stars and supernovas that shifted like snakes in hyperspace, you’d managed to see through the helmet and figure out exactly what he needed, like you’d done so many times with busted motors and faulty sensors. After finishing the crib, you’d taken its unconscious owner down to the hull. The Mandalorian had sentenced himself to his chair to try and still the punchy beating of his heart, that he knew had more to do at this point with the knowledge that you’d put your own life on the line to wait for him than with his altercations in Nevarro.

But you’d come back.

You’d silently slithered your way back into the cockpit and stood right in front of him with trembling legs, looking for his eyes behind the visor. Wordlessly, you’d unbuckled your belt, slipped your pants down, and climbed onto his lap. His fingers had dug into the leather arms of the chair as you’d started moving on top of him in gentle circles. He remembered blushing at how fast you’d been able to get him hard and how all the blood had dropped from his face to his genitals when you’d lowered his zipper and freed his swollen cock. He remembered the persistent smell that had crawled underneath the helmet when you had shoved your underwear to the side and guided him inside your dripping folds.

Mando had fucked you then, with quick, hard thrusts and a vice grip on your ass that had most likely left bruises. He’d fucked you every single night that followed, as well. After freezing whatever bounty he would manage to catch and setting coordinates for the Crest’s next destination, he’d descend the ladder to find you. He never needed to tell you a thing, since you would just shove what little clothing was necessary as soon as you’d catch a glimpse of him and present your body to him, to do as he pleased. Night after night, you’d welcome him wet and willing, perched on whatever surface you two would see fit for your fucking. So, after trying the pilot’s chair, the floor, and several storage boxes, he’d gotten used to finding you on his cot.

Mando knew he was always rough with you. Whether he was coming back from a hunt or from a stakeout, it was always stress, anguish, and burning lust at the mere sight of you that guided his every movement, and they translated to a fistful of your hair or a sudden bump against your cervix. From the first time, he’d lost himself in the dizzying sensation of your slippery walls around him, clenching tighter with every thrust and squeezing every drop of sanity out of him. He’d become addicted to the clammy sound of your cum around his length as he took out all of his frustrations on the stretch of your pussy.

He would only ever take you from behind while you knelt in front of his bunk or against a wall, spilling his seed outside, every time. He’d never actually seen you naked. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about it—the curiosity of how gorgeous you probably looked like with no clothes on haunted his every waking thought—, but he knew it wasn’t part of the unspoken deal you two had struck. Out of pity, he assumed, you’d offered yourself to him as a stress reliever, and nothing more.

At first, though, Mando had been surprised at how often and loud you’d moan for him; later he’d figured it was just another way you’d though of to please him. The whimpers would float around the recycled air of his empty ship and bounce on his helmet, unable to pierce through the tough beskar. So he would take what he could get and tried his best to shut the desire for a more profound intimacy that he ached for. Until, one day, it could no longer be held back.

After his clash with Moff Guideon and the army of Imps, it took Mando a few hours to grasp that he had survived. Somehow, hugely outnumbered and wounded, the bounty hunter’s own small army had managed to defeat the enemy troops and get away with the child, not without two losses that still hung too somber on his guts for him to process properly. He sat on his chair with his son resting next to him for hours, watching space break down to pieces from the cockpit. He thought about IG-11, how he’d lifted his helmet and seen his most secret self through red sensors. Mando remembered how much he’d wished for you at that moment, wanting nothing more but to replace the droid’s neutral features with your own lovely ones. He’d known his son was safe and had made peace with his impending death, but he hadn’t been able to shake a feeling of unfulfillment for knowing that he’d never gotten to truly see you or feel you.

But he had survived.

So Mando sat in the cockpit until he lost track of time, almost hoping that—as always—you’d simply guess what he yearned for and provide it for him. But, eventually, when you didn’t magically appear in front of him like the first time, he knew it was his turn. Nervousness stifling his movements, he climbed clumsily down, stopping every once in a while to reconsider. What if he offended you? He’d never forgive himself if his stupid requests drew you away once and for all. But temptation was gripping his heart hard, and he knew that he’d never know peace again if he didn’t at least try to get this one favor from you.

When he jumped down the last steps of the ladder, he didn’t find you in his cot. You stood in front of him, as if you’d been waiting. You didn’t push your pants down or move to kneel at the entrance of his bunk like you always did. You simply looked into his visor with a hesitant expression, waiting for him to make a move, for a change.

His voice was tight and unsteady when he finally said, “I want… Can—can I touch you?” He cleared his throat and couldn’t help the telling dip of his helmet as he absorbed your figure in front of him. “I mean really touch you. And…and see you. Please.”

Your shoulders slacked and you moved your head to the side in confusion, like you had been expecting literally anything else. And then, once you saw the way his helmet hung defeated and his hands were clasped in front of him, almost as if he were apologizing for asking, your face went back to its natural comprehensive expression. Except something else was growing in your eyes that made your pupils expand and darken.

“Yes,” you breathed out, with a begging tone that mimicked Mando’s own.

Mando’s lungs collapsed at your permission; he hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding his breath. He looked around, trying to figure out a way to quickly engineer a surface comfortable enough for you, but you simply sat cross-legged on the floor looking up at him with inviting eyes that got his heart pounding a little faster. So he knelt down in front of you and unclasped his cloak to lay it in next to your legs. It wasn’t ideal nor how he’d imagined it—nothing about this situation was—but he was determined to make you feel as comfortable as he possibly could.

You clutched his pauldrons as leverage and shuffled on your knees to rest them on the worn fabric. You reached down with one hand to remove your shoes and socks, before trailing it upwards to your belly and grabbing the hem of your tunic. Mando quickly caught your wrist.

“Wait,” he asked, “let me.”

You simply bit your lower lip and nodded, and Mando liked the way your cheeks turned pink when his gloves grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up. Every new inch of your skin made it harder for him to keep his hands on the cloth instead of the soft flesh that he was seeing for the first time. When he got your tunic far up enough that it went past your breasts, he had to force himself to keep going, instead of immediately rolling the tips in his fingers. His already half-hard cock twitched at the thought.

By the time your head poked out of the tunic’s hole and he discarded it, his body was burning inside the armor. He trailed his gaze across every crevice of your upper body, stopping at some softer-looking spots he quickly decided were his favorite. You apparently noticed, because the blush on your face was darker than before and it spread to your chest. Mando found your pigmented skin endearing. Maker, after weeks of burying himself inside your most private places, how was it possible that this was the most intimate moment you two had ever shared? And why was he so much more fucking nervous right there than any of the other nights?

He reached his hands out slowly to unbuckle your belt, but looked up at you for permission first. Still biting your lip, you managed a small smile, but your teeth were digging deeper with anticipation that made the gentle expression falter. So he removed your belt and pushed down your pants, taking your underwear with them. You shuffled awkwardly on your knees to slide your them off your legs and would’ve toppled over if he hadn’t grabbed your arms and held you steady. You laughed nervously at your clumsiness and grabbed his arm for balance, as your other hand stretched behind you to pull the trousers off completely and throw them to the side.

The hand on his arm let go and your back straightened again. And there you were, bare in front of him as he’d asked, your skin covered in goosebumps from the cold air of the ship. Like staring into a mirage, he instinctively grabbed your wrist to make sure you wouldn’t evaporate in front of him. Stars, for all the hours he’d spent mentally sketching a picture of your nude body, he could never have expected this. Mando’s eyes traced the lines of your neck and dropped to a pair of smooth shoulders that he would’ve paid good money to lick. Your heaving chest caught his eye, and he went dizzy with the way your nipples hardened under the attention. He skimmed lower to your belly, and would’ve gladly stayed there if he hadn’t caught a glimpse of something glistening between your thighs. His breath audibly hitched at the modulator when he recognized the clear slick of your arousal.

Once you understood what the visor was directed at, your shoulders hunched and you shuffled uncomfortably in your place. The movement snapped him out of his trance.

It was Din Djarin who stared straight into your eyes when he finally said with a disbelieving, low voice, “I’m sorry, it’s just…You’re so beautiful.”

You smiled fully for him then, your lips plump with arousal and your body arching towards him more confidently to try to coax him to reach out.

“Please,” you pleaded in a raspy tone he’d never heard before, “touch me like you wanted.”

That was all Din needed. His hands approached your body, before he reconsidered and took the gloves off first. Fuck, where to begin? He wanted to feel everything at once, brush his fingertips down your neck and grab your thighs hard and press a hand into your belly. He wanted to grasp your round tits and trace a finger down your spine to make you shiver. Most of all, he wanted to sink his digits into your wet heat and feel you squirm over them.

He settled his hands on your shoulders instead, like you’d done moments ago. The bare-skinned contact made you both tense, until he started caressing up and down your arms to try to relax you. You let out a shaky breath as his calloused hands tickled your skin with a feather light touch.

“It’s smooth,” he mumbled, “your skin. I—I didn’t know.” The helmet was trained on your chest, though, and his hands followed, two large palms settling just above your breasts. Din felt your heart beating faster and faster against his palm to the beat of his own unstable huffs that he knew you could hear. He glided his hands lower, grasping your tits with a strength that painted a stark contrast to his previous, careful fondles. The sensation worked a gasp out of you that pierced beskar and cloth and went straight to his cock. Encouraged, he kneaded the fat and pinched your pebbly peaks, earning him another, louder whimper.

Fuck, why did it feel that good? Din could already feel his array of problems slipping further and further away at the sensation of your hot skin against his, not to mention the sight of your mouth gaping and your half-hooded eyes. A scent he already knew well crept into his nostrils and settled on his lower half, reminding him of the growing lubrication between your legs.

He traded your breasts for the curve of your ass and, when he squeezed, he pulled you closer to him, your chest hitting the cool surface of his armor. You yelped at the cold contact, but the surprise turned into pleasure when he started grabbing handfuls of you to press your body tighter against his. His fingers slipped down to the backs of your thighs and sunk on the pillowy flesh between them, making you buckle forward as a reflex and wrap your arms around his neck. The flesh underneath his palm was soaked and boiling, but it wasn’t until he parted your thighs and shoved his metal cuisse between them that he thought you were working up a fever.

Before he could give you any instruction, you buried your head in the crook of his neck and started rubbing your core on his cuisse. It was an awkward angle that only offered so much friction, but the way you moaned for him sounded like it the sensation was melting you. Every desperate little noise was absorbed by his pores and climbed to his head, making him drunk with the knowledge that he could do this to you.

He needed more.

“Lay back.” He placed his hands on your hips to stop your grinding. You threw your head back to look into the dark visor, flushed and confused.

“But—” you started, before Din placed a hand on the small of your back and pushed you with his other one onto the worn cloak. You relented and laid on the floor panting, watching him through long lashes and pressing your legs tightly. Towering over you on his knees, Din grabbed the tops of each thigh and massaged them carefully, both to coax them open and to continue reveling on how your body pulsed alive under his touch. You were writhing and moaning under him, too busy rubbing your legs together to ease some of the throbbing between them to understand what he wanted from you. As much as he enjoyed watching you completely exposed, desperately trying to pleasure yourself, he needed to see. He needed you open to finally take a look at the heat where he’d been losing himself for weeks.

Din pinned down your ankles to the floor and looked straight to your face.

“Please, just—just let me see.” He slowly slid your feet towards you, making your knees flex and your legs bend. Back to reality, you swallowed hard and nodded, propping yourself on your elbows to see exactly what he’d do.

Din pushed your ankles to the sides, revealing little by little a blushed, pulsating cunt. He only stopped once your legs couldn’t open any wider. Your outer lips were plump and swollen, while your inner folds glistened wet and pink under the artificial light of the ship. Your clit was sticking out completely, imploring to be touched. Din felt something stab his chest. He held his breath and felt his member grow fully erect at the erotic sight.

“Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth, “f-fuck, is this what I’ve been missing?” He placed his palms on your inner thighs, where he could feel the warmth radiating from your cunt. “Huh?”

You furrowed your eyebrows and opened your legs a little wider. “You never touched me,” you whispered, “I thought you didn’t want to.”

“Maker.” Din’s gaze was trained on your pussy, unblinking. “It’s the only thing I’ve wanted.” When glossy arousal oozed out of you at his admission and pooled on his cloak, Din felt his mouth salivate. He ran his tongue over his lips.

“Then do it.” You sounded desperate now.

Din watched you intently—searching for a reaction—when the index and middle finger of his right hand made a V shape over your outer lips, before pressing hard against them. It was difficult for him to decide whether to focus on how your head dropped on the ground and your breath hitched, or how your inner lips spilled outside around his digits and your lower muscles hardened under his touch. The pressure made more of your arousal seep and coat his fingers, as he worked them back and forth over the outside of your core. He knew he was leaking precum but couldn’t bring himself to remove his right hand from your cunt nor his left from your thigh, so he simply pressed his legs together, hoping the sight of you wouldn’t be enough to make him cum.

You were pushing against his fingers, silently asking for more, and Din was happy to comply. He removed his middle finger as his index brushed your soaked slit from the bottom to the top, stopping right below your clit. Exasperated, you slapped your palms over your eyes.

“Mando, please,” you whined, “do something. You can’t just��” Your own moan cut you off when he brought down his left hand to pull your inner lips open and gather some more moisture. Fuck, he had a clear view inside you. He could see your innermost walls drowning in their own juices turn a dark pink, almost purple. He used both hands to open you further. Deep inside you, your tight hole clenched around nothing, spitting out more and more fluids.

Stars, Din didn’t know anyone could get this wet, not even when he used to mindlessly fuck you. His hands were drenched already, but, greedily, he still gathered more slickness and rubbed it on his finger, across his knuckles. He wanted it everywhere. He scooped more and smeared it all over your folds and inner thighs, still avoiding your bundle of nerves. Fascinated by your body and trying to ignore how his cock strained against his pants, he lifted his hands to coat your tits with your own cum.

You were almost crying beneath him, but you seized your opportunity when you felt his wet hands against your chest. Suddenly, you grabbed his wrist and yanked it down, pressing the heel of his hand against your neglected clit. Your eyes closed as a broken sob of relief escaped your throat. You moved your hips against it, using his body for your pleasure as he’d done so many times with yours. Din was delighted.

“Been so good to me for so long,” he muttered, as his other hand creeped stealthily back towards your slit. “I want to pay you back.” The primal sound that left you when he sunk two fingers inside your snug hole made his cock jump and get itself a little wetter than before. He willed himself to ignore it and focus his attention on the long fingers inside you. He pushed them as far as they’d go and them some more, while you were still grinding against his palm.

Din was sure he was going to black out from lust when you started moving faster and his fingers curled into something that made your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You were breathing quickly, high little mewls leaving your lips as you clenched tighter and tighter around him. His torso leaned down to see how he was stretching you open.

“B-but I liked it,” you blurted all of a sudden, catching your companion by surprise, “I like it when you f-fuck me—” you groaned when he couldn’t help himself and added another finger, “—when you fuck me angry. When you—when you take it out on me.”

Din didn’t answer. He couldn’t when your words sank deep into his stomach and braided his insides. He only moved his fingers faster and deeper, letting your walls distract him—once again—from the difficulties of his turbulent life, as you pulled tighter around him.

Tighter—tighter—tighter—and—

Din was sure it was your own orgasm transferring over to him when you came undone with a loud cry. He didn’t stop moving his hands into you as spasms took over your body, but he felt his own organs contract and release waves of pleasure into every corner of his ragged body. It was only after you stopped shaking and he took his creamy hands away from you that he noticed a dark, moist patch on the crotch of his pants. You noticed it too, and managed a brief, breathy laugh before falling back on the floor, pulling the cloak to cover you and closing your eyes.

Din slapped your leg gently to stop you from falling asleep before standing up.

“We’re not done yet,” he told you plainly, as you stared at him with confused, tired eyes. “I haven’t tasted you.”

He clicked a few buttons on his arm, and the hull became pitch black.

–––––

Edit: Part II here

@artaxerxesthegreat

#the mandolarian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian smut #the mandolorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #star wars #star wars smut #the mandalorian x ofc #din djarin x oc

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wangxiandecoded · 4 years

Text

Episode 10

Previous Episode | Next Episode

(Spoilers for the whole show ahead!)

Going to draw a heart over Wangxian to keep track of every time the camera shows someone third wheeling them from now on.

Wei Ying uses his Binding/Bonding talisman on Xue Yang to show Lan Zhan it’s a dynamic tool that doesn’t deserve to be named “Boring”. Even though there’s a serial killer on the loose, Lan Zhan’s opinions on his inventions matter a lot to him. Standard Wei Ying stuff.

Wangxian’s Mirrors

At this point of the show, I could not believe there was a couple who directly mirrored Wangxian. And surprise! They were two men who dressed in black and white and came together for their common vision exactly like Wangxian did. Wei Ying cannot help but connect the dots and Lan Zhan is already aware of their eminence.

Xue Yang Fancies The Yiling Laozu

Xue Yang’s introduction makes the story take a darker turn but also a gayer one. The homoerotic subtext between him and Wei Ying literally jumps out of the screen.

(This episode had a lot of moments that were just begging for alternate dialogues to be written. I just wanted to have fun with the subtext that’s already present.)

Wei Ying doesn’t want Lan Zhan to waste his precious breath interrogating the bad guy. He protectively steps up (something he does quite a lot) and puts some distance between the both of them.

But he wants Lan Zhan to hold his sword while he does that.. and if that act wasn’t necessarily considered to be intimate or romantic before, it just became that after Lan Zhan refused to do it in front of everyone.

Wei Ying has uttered many conspicuously gay things on the show but most of them are with reference to Lan Zhan. Therefore, this is possibly the gayest dialogue he has ever said in a strictly non-Lan Zhan context.

His tone is all, “Honey, you've been existing for 5 minutes, I'm the queerest person the cultivation world has seen in a millennium. You think frisking a guy is going to make me feel scandalized?” This is nuts to me because Xue Yang is arguably the most blatantly coded gay character on the show.. and here is Wei Ying all but saying he can outgay him. That he shouldn’t come after his job. And Lan Zhan just looks like..

It is curious how Lan Zhan says no to something that would require Wei Ying to go near Xue Yang again.

We get it, Lan Zhan. It was hard to see your guy giving attention to someone who wasn’t you.

When Lan Zhan is unsure what's happening back home, the first person his eyes seek is Wei Ying, his source of strength and reassurance.

SongXiao Help WangXian Fall Deeper In Love

Wei Ying is euphoric to meet another pair of Soulmates™. (The same kind of glee that queer people feel when they meet a celebrity queer couple.) His relationship with Lan Zhan just gained supreme validation and a boost to the power of infinity!

He sees everything he has with Lan Zhan reflected in SongXiao’s relationship. He admires them and is delighted that people like them who aren’t concerned with clan drama can walk the wider path of justice, and also lead successful, honourable lives. He looks to Lan Zhan for confirmation but Lan Zhan doesn’t seem too eager to publicize the super sweet promise they made at the lantern ceremony or the fact that he’s been secretly enjoying Wei Ying’s companionship on this expedition. And let’s be honest, it would’ve been more shocking if Lan Zhan did confirm any of that here.

Cheer up, Wei Ying! Lan Zhan will get plenty more opportunities to prove his love for you and he'll ace every single one of them.

No one asked for this but thank you NHS for declaring your ideal type is beautiful gentlemen who fight crime together and unapologetically go their own way.

The parallels between the two pairs write themselves. More importantly, it is while watching SongXiao leave together that Lan Zhan stumbles onto an epiphany.

This is such an underrated moment in the show. The sorrowful music and slow-motion shot of Lan Zhan looking at Wei Ying with vulnerability all over his face once again drives it home that Wei Ying is The One for him, and he is his. He was already getting tired of denying that Wei Ying is his soulmate in every sense there is, and he feels his pain and sadness in this moment. It is enough for Jiang Cheng to feel sorry for him and move on but not for Lan Zhan who feels all that his soulmate feels.

It is overwhelming and brand new information to Lan Zhan himself that he can feel it because Wei Ying is not in impending danger right now, so this need he feels to protect him and be there for him can only mean that he loves him beyond the shadow of a doubt. Wei Ying seems upset thinking about his mother and Lan Zhan gets it, without Wei Ying having uttered a word the whole time. His face shows a kind of defeat in this scene; he surrenders to everything he has known and felt for some time now : He's in love with Wei Ying and would tear down the universe without a second thought if it means it would rid him of his unhappiness. And he isn't able to do that in this moment. But thanks to Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen, he’s found comfort in the truth they have each other at the end of the day, even if they have nothing left in this world. He cannot give back to Wei Ying what he has lost but he can accompany him in his sadness, and it will have to be enough. And it is, because Wei Ying can overcome just about everything as long as Lan Zhan walks by his side.

Wei Ying Says Lan Clan Deserves Rights

Wei Ying has many nice things to say about the Lan clan who he found exhausting a few months ago. Love brings about miraculous changes in a person, y’all.

Wei Ying gravitates towards Lan Zhan as if it's second nature to him and it really is.

Jiang Cheng spends a lot of time trying to get Wei Ying to spill the Top Secrets about the Yin Iron and Wei Ying is like, "Sorry, I’m bound by the Soulmate laws to tell you absolutely nothing."

Wei Ying is already embracing the idea of controlling the Yin Iron and people are rightfully getting offended by his suggestion.

What did you expect, Wei Ying? Not everyone is your lifetime confidant to give you the benefit of the doubt and reciprocate it with compassion, trust and open-mindedness.

Wangxian’s Temporary Separation

What was that, Wei Ying? Did we hear you admit that the Gusu Lan roof is softer than the one in Qinghe? Could this have anything to do with a certain law enforcer in Cloud Recesses you fell in love with at first sword fight?

There is a delicate, bittersweet air to this separation, and even the casual watcher is going to be wondering, “When did I get so invested in Wangxian that WuJi makes me want to cry?”

It's cute how Lan Zhan is like, “Okay, I’ve seen the love of my life for one last time, I’ll quietly take my leave so he doesn’t know I was waiting for him to come back.”

Turns out, "I'll sleep on your roof tonight," is one of the most romantic things we could tell the person we love. Isn't it brilliant that just few seconds ago Wei Ying had said he will take whatever ground he finds as his home for the night, and how utterly beautiful is it to have followed it up with this dialogue? “Lan Zhan, I'll sleep on your roof tonight.” Because the world is big but my home is wherever you are. That’s where I’m happiest, I'll sleep on this rugged roof and walk through thorns if it means I get to be by your side. I won't mind it at all. And how unbelievably romantic is it that Wei Ying makes a philosophical statement about life, which ends up being about Lan Zhan?

Lan Zhan hears the implications in his voice. And he openly yearns to stay behind a little longer and commit to his memory what Wei Ying looks like when he is drunkenly proclaiming his love for him under the moonlight. It is pleasantly surprising that Lan Zhan is willing to express his emotions when he knows he is safe from Wei Ying hearing them, that he doesn't mind telling him goodbye when he thinks Wei Ying won't remember it.

But the audience can hear his voice and we are going to remember it. How, "Wei Ying, I have to go," is uttered in a cadence so sweet we did not know Lan Zhan was capable of before this. And the choice of words do not simply mean that he’s going to leave, but that he has to, and most certainly not because he wants to. And how it really means, “I’m worried about everything, but especially you, and I'm sorry I have to go. I have to trust that we'll both be okay on this path. Please know that I don't wish to leave you, and forgive me for it. Wei Ying, I love you."

Even their temporary separation hurts so good. If they were meant to be best buddies, this scene wouldn't have been shot so poignantly. But we got used to seeing them together and every frame is designed to dig deeper into your heart and instil the fact that these soulmates are parting, and we don’t know when they’ll see each other again. This is the melancholy of a man who does not wish to be away from his lover but is forced to for the sake of the greater good. Anyone can see that.

The rooftop and moonlit night come as a callback to their first meeting, only Lan Zhan no longer wants to point the tip of his sword at Wei Ying, it gives him far greater satisfaction to place Wei Ying behind his sword.

I haven’t counted the number of times people acknowledge Wangxian’s relationship and/or know that they are inseparable, but it’s safe to say almost every character does that at some point. And some even know how to exploit their weakness, that in order to hurt one of them, the surefire way is to simply aim for the other like Wen Chao does here.

To summarize, Episode 10 saw Lan Zhan showing us his true colors : When he isn’t occupied with being the esteemed, intimidating Lan Wangji, he’s busy being a regular, sweet, romantic guy in love. And Wei Ying did that. He single-handedly exposes the soft side of Lan Zhan that nobody sees to the audience now and the world later on.

This episode also gave us this : Two soulmates chilling shoulder to shoulder zero feet apart because they’re falling in love.

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 3 years

Text

[CN] Season 2- Victor and MC- Chapter 4 & 5 (Eng Translation)- Part 3

⌚Warning:⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a chapter that is yet to release in the global server. Don't continue under the cut if you don't wish to be spoiled!(◍•ᴗ•◍)

✧✧ PART 1 || PART 2

✧ [CH 4-12] ✧

At BS office: With the help of her subordinates, MC is working on gathering information on Lu Kang, and the mysterious man in black. But the tracker she left on him lost its signal after some time, so the investigation has reached an dead-end for now.

It's also the day Victor will be released from the hospital. So, MC goes to pick him up.

He has changed out of his hospital gown, and returned to his suit and leather shoes.

I sigh inwardly, though Victor has always been very busy, but recently he seems to have become even busier.

MC: You've just been discharged from hospital, don't you want to go home and rest?

Victor: It's not like I was really hospitalized. Besides, I remember that you still have something to report to me.

MC: Now I understand that being a CEO is really not easy.

Victor: If you really want to be considerate of others, improve the quality of your work.

I tilt my face up, and pat my bag while looking at him.

MC: So where does CEO Victor want to test the quality of my work?

Victor: Go to LFG.

MC notes that Victor gets in his work mode™ as soon as he enters LFG LOL

MC reports Victor about her findings that Lu Kang once lost a lawsuit against LFG and seemed to hold LFG responsible for the bankruptcy.

Victor explains that the deal with Lu Kang's company didn't proceed because they were found secretly making false accounts and such doings will eventually lead to plummeting. LFG never did or neither do they need to persecute anyone for business competition, and it'll bring more trouble than benefits anyway.

I scrutinize the sharp air exuding from his eyebrows, and can't help but mutter under my breath.

MC: Victor, you've always been so decisive and swift in action. Haven't you made more or less some enemies?

[Note: MC uses the idiom "雷厉风行" which literally translates to- passing like thunder and moving like wind.]

Victor: When there are interests involved, even if you do nothing, there will be enemies. The rules of the game are inherently cruel, and to have people who want to put some tricks to use, is quite ordinary.

MC gives Victor another report which she compiled based on Lu Kang's memory.

MC points out- the lawsuit incident was a while ago and it shouldn't be the reason he attacked Victor. She assumes-- it has something to do with the "game" that was mentioned in his memory many times. Lu Kang and the young man who partnered in the game probably tried to escape halfway, and they were killed because of the "no escapee rule."

Victor takes MC's reasoning under consideration, and specifically points out that all the victims of the murders are Evolvers. MC expresses her assumption that it could be because the authority of the game has some hidden agenda.

We glance at each other, and once again each sink into reflecting on the matter.

After a while, Victor picks up the last page of the report, and flips through it.

Victor: The trail for that killer is broken?

MC: Yes, should be. We suspect that he threw away the tracker.

Victor looks at the contents of the report repeatedly, then presses it on the table, and taps his fingertips on the last spot tracked by the tracker.

Victor: This place, you've only checked the public webpage. So the trail is not completely broken yet. Let them use the internal channels to investigate again. Don't waste the first-level authority I gave you.

Victor raises his eyes and looks at me, then puts the report back in my hand.

MC: Do I need to investigate that game altogether?

Victor: No need. I will send someone specialized to investigate. Remember, everything you just said is only a conjecture.

Victor: Without my permission, do not voluntarily investigate in private.

MC: Yes, BOSS.

The worries that have been clogging up in my chest for days, finally dissipates in several degrees. Even if I sympathized with Lu Kang, this action to get back at someone is never the right thing to do.

MC: Fortunately, this car accident is not related to the Evolver assassination. Just as I said, who would be so courageous, that he dares to pick a fight with CEO Victor?

Victor: The "bodyguard" is finally relieved?

MC: Relieved!

Victor: Go back when you feel relieved. Start concentrating on your task next week.

I grab the report, preparing to leave, just then Victor calls me again. I look back, and see that he seems to have sent a message to someone.

He halts for a moment, then stands up with one hand propped on the tabletop, his deep gaze falling on my face.

Victor: Thank you for these few days.

I stare blankly at him for a while, and quickly perk up with an even bigger smile.

MC: No need to be polite, Mr. Victor. Just let me book a free pudding from Souvenir!

I turn around at Victor's momentary expression of helplessness, running out of the office like a wisp of smoke.

Ever since confirming his safety, I feel that every time we see each other, it all becomes much more relaxed.

Behind the current life, there are still bubbling up unsettling factors in motion.

But precisely because things being as such, is what makes me want to cherish the rare tranquility all the more.

✧ [4-13] ✧

Just a moment after walking out of the LFG building, I suddenly remember that I've forgotten one thing, and rush back to the lobby.

After talking to the administrative staff at the front desk, I dial Victor's number.

Victor: Hello?

MC: Victor, I forgot one thing just now. To congratulate you on your 'discharge', I've prepared a small gift for you. The staff will deliver it for me later.

Victor: ....I've said I wasn't really hospitalized. What are you up to again?

MC: Just treat it as a blessing. You must accept it! That's all.

Victor: Hold on.

MC: Is there anything else?

Victor: Help me think of a name.

MC: What kind of name? A kitten, a puppy or a relative's child?

Victor: ....Common name, male.

MC: Why are you asking this all of a sudden?

Victor: Because your imagination is comperatively rich.

What kind of answer is this...

I complain inwardly, but still give it a serious thought.

MC: Let me think. How about this one!

(Players get to choose a name from the three options)

Victor: What kind of strange name is that...

Victor's helpless sigh comes from the other end of the phone.

Victor: Never mind. I shouldn't have had any expectations. I'll accept your gift. That's all.

After hanging up the call, I'm still a little baffled by the request.

He abruptly asked me to help think of a name, and also a male's name. Could it be that he is going to use it himself?

Could it be that there is something that requires a disguised identity?

But does he even need to disguise.... aren't the six letters "Victor" the best pass in itself.

Anyway, the name I gave him off the top of my head, he definitely won't use it.

I shake my head, my train of thoughts returning to the gift I've left behind just a moment ago, and can't help but look forward to it.

I wonder when the Victor of now receives this gift, what will the expression on his face be like?

✧[POV back to Victor's office]✧

Closing the last document, Victor leans into his chair, gently pinching his brows.

Opening his eyes, the pink-colored gift box on the corner of the table enters his line of sight again. The lofty color seems to be urging him to open it as soon as possible.

Victor unwraps the box, and inside lies a round Shiba Inu doll, appearing a little old.

He wrinkles his eyebrows, takes it out, and sees a small folded note also being pressed onto the bottom of the box.

He patiently unfolds the note again, the carefully and neatly written calligraphy greets his eyes.

Victor: (reading the note) "Congratulations on your 'recovery,' and here's a small gift for you. This is the doll that has accompanied me for many years. I wish you well and hope you're happy." - MC

Victor: ....Childish.

Victor subconsciously says a word, and falls silent again.

Unknowingly why, but he always feels that he's somewhat familiar with this scene, but he also can't amalgamate the impression any further.

Even just the silly Shiba-Inu doll on the table, brings him a trace of intimacy.

[Note: This is the same Shiba-Inu doll MC's dad gifted her as a kid, and she gave it to Victor in S1 "Rooftop Date," when she wanted to comfort him realizing how much he misses his departed mom.]

It seems as if, ever since meeting her and getting acquainted with each other, this strange feeling often arises.

Is it because she has an Evol associated with memories?

But again, Victor is also very clear that her Evol doesn't have effect on himself.

Or is that, it's simply owing to her?

Victor blankly stares at the doll for a while, and by the time he circles back to his senses, it's already somewhat late.

He pulls open a locked drawer next to his desk, puts the doll inside, and catches a glimpse of the document marked with a sharp " S " symbol underneath.

"Illegal psychoactive drugs", " CORE", "has the potential to stimulate Evol"...

Several eye-catching keywords are marked in red, even in the twilight, which are still clearly identifiable.

The information the girl has reported to him once again surfaces in Victor's mind.

She has organized it very meticulously, but after reading it all thoroughly, the dense fog before his eyes hasn't dispersed.

Those layers of crisscrossing threads seems to have already involved all the parties, standing in different positions, making the situation chaotic.

And all these disputes still ultimately point to the same source--

BLACK SWAN CORE.

When it's all said and done, is this situation because everyone is eager to obtain it, or is there an unknown force hiding in the depository, pulling the strings?

There are still numerous issues that needs to be resolved, and one can not always watch the fire burning across the river.

Victor locks the drawer, and glances at the clock on the wall.

The phone rings at the right time, it's an encrypted email from BS.

Mail: "BOSS, as per your requirements, the relevant information has been sent to the other party."

Victor simply knocks down a reply, gets up and puts on his jacket, preparing to leave.

A pile of events is connected into a ring, and each angler, too, is bait for another.

He is looking forward to what kind of prey can be hooked this time.

✧ [CH 4-15] ✧

Victor meets Lucien at the research center, who hands him the report of a research.

Victor says the results are clear but Lucien says they only confirmed their guesses, and that CORE has been the focus of everyone after Evol was publicized, but there are perhaps other things affecting the world. Lucien asks if Victor feels that the world is not quite right and that every civilization circulates within a box, the time they have is likely more limited than expected.

Victor says it depends on how an individual views the matter, there's no need to pre-determine an outcome.

Lucien asks Victor if he believes he'll be able to get out of the box. Victor replies, "Not believe, it's a must."

After Victor gets in the car, he receives an email: "Dear Mr. [the name MC chose for him earlier], thank you for your support towards Hunter Games."

The rest of the email is basically explaining the rules of the game.‶

✧ [Victor scene in CH 5] ✧

Victor is returning from a business trip. After giving Goldman some instructions, he glances out of the window of the helicopter. Even though everything is peaceful, to him something always seems amiss.

He receives an email containing only one word, "Advanced." His expression doesn't change much since he already expected this outcome. The mail disappears, and he taps on another anonymous email with the instructions- He'll be entering the betting venue in 15 minutes and he should get prepared.

When the helicopter is about to land on the LFG rooftop, he glances out of the window once again and observes the people of the city living their day to day peaceful lives.

The noise-reduction headset cuts out the sound of the outside world, but the mere information sent back to him by his vision, is sufficient to prove the tranquility of the world before his eyes.

The helicopter lands. He settles some works with the staff.

Victor raises his hand to look at his watch, the gray clouds being reflected on the dial, slightly blurs the trajectory of the clock hands.

In a split second, along with lowering his arm, an inconspicuous red light suddenly streaks across the dial.

There's still ten minutes to enter the "betting venue".

The staff turns around, walking towards the elevator, cold wind blows on Victor's face, fluttering the hem of his coat.

Somewhere directly opposite, a small cross hair has always been aiming at the position of his heart.

??: "Code L" elimination plan in progress, target locked.

A second before the trigger is squeezed tightly, the person behind the lens suddenly lifts up, raises his head, looking straight into the set of deep eyes in the distance.

The clamors of the city conceals much of the noise, the discharge of bullet muffles in the silencer, so much so that in this shattering rain, it doesn't even make a crisp sound of snapping a branch.

A dispute between the light and the dark, seemingly has arrived to its conclusion.

[Trivia: The call that comes with the Chapter karma card-- is actually Victor nagging with MC on her report over phone inside the helicopter-- before it lands on the LFG rooftop!]

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slasherkisss · 4 years

Text

Blood Day Truce

You find yourself on your period in the realm of the Entity. To make it worse you find yourself alone with Evan Macmillan, the Trapper, while you are also on your period. LUCKY for you, though, Evan seems interested enough in your predicament to offer something of a truce, so long as both of you can benefit from it.

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Period Play, Vaginal Fingering, Blood Play, Rough Sex, Choking Ao3 Link Here

A/N: My first piece of a period play series I’ve been itching to do! Reader is AFAB but I tried to keep the pronouns as gender neutral as possible! Basically Evan fucks you on your period to help you with your cramps. I hope you enjoy!

------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- -------------

You watched him with terrified eyes, pupils tracking his every move. His every stretch of muscle against hooked skin as he towered above you. Simply his breathing was enough to twist your gut a little more than your cramps were already doing. The Entity normally brought four of you when it was time to face a Killer. The Entity, for all its foreboding attitudes, was at least kind enough to give you warning as to when you were about to be thrust into a life or death situation. It gave you time to mentally prepare, as a group, for the slaughter that would without a doubt happen one way or another in your time out and about on the turf of a walking slaughterhouse like the Trapper.

This time, however, you were alone.

The Trapper shifted forward, one heavy foot in front of the other, and you scrambled back on instinct. This wasn’t a formal match, but you were still unsure if the killer thought that an excuse to miss out on torturing some prey. The way you shifted made your stomach snarl and your uterus quake your body with another gut chilling cramp.

The soft squelch of your aching muscles pushing out some more blood against the lining of your pants echoed in the deafening silence between the two of you, causing you to whimper out in pain. Maybe letting him kill you would be easier than this. At least, for a while, you’d get to ignore the pain while the Entity worked on re-summoning up your body from the depths of its sacrificial limbo.

You shoved your back against the nearby wall, another squelch of blood sounding between your thighs and you bit back a groan of discomfort as you felt the stain between them grow. You slid down to the ground, almost in defeat, and tried to even your breathing through the fear.

The unfamiliar noises made him pause in his advancement, masked head tilting to one side in what one might almost consider a cock of curiosity. You brought your legs up to your chest, the position momentarily lessening the pain as warm pressure pulled itself against your aching abdomen. You hadn’t even realized that, through the intruding cramp, you had kept your eyes shut as tight as possible out of pure endurance. Through the darkness of your eyelids you heard each of the movements The Trapper made above you. The floorboards creaked as he moved closer, groaning louder when he leaned down. You felt his hot breath against the front of your face, rancid but familiar, and shivered.

You dared to open your eyes, meeting the thin slits of his mask boldly but with the proper apprehension. He was down on one knee, using his cleaver to support himself in his leaning. Putting his weight on it made the weapon sink deeper and deeper into the floorboards, splitting the wood slowly underneath it. You held your breath and allowed him the closeness. So long as his weapon was buried deep into the wood, there was no chance of him being able to pull it out swiftly and without a struggle, giving you a clear chance to struggle upwards and make your way out if need be.

His head tilted down as you let out another surprised whimper at the pain in your body. Though you couldn’t see much through the mask, you could almost feel his gaze holding onto the area between your legs. Suddenly self conscious of the embarrassing stain growing against it, you tried to delicately shift your legs so that they covered up the bloodied area more discreetly.

Suddenly The Trapper’s hand shot outwards, causing you to gasp in terror. Your heartbeat quickened and your blood ran cold as he formed his grip on one of your knees. You were ready for it. For him to rip you in half or drag you by that leg towards a hook. To saw you in half or something equally as gruesome so that the rest of your body’s blood joined in with the type already leaking from you.

Instead you felt him release his grip on his cleaver so he could put his other hand on the opposite knee and slowly pry your legs open. You tried to keep them shut, mostly out of embarrassment, but his strength wasn’t anything that you could fight against. Instead you resigned yourself to his movements, growing curious as to what exactly he was doing.

The Trapper’s eyes lingered on the bloody pool in your jeans for a long time. The position he had you in began to grow painful and awkward as your body pumped out more blood. Reaching out, he touched his hand against your ass, using his thumb to press against the growing stain of blood. The pressure caused an audible squelch to hum through the air a second time. A warm sense of relief that shouldn’t have been there flooded your core as the pressure hit your clit, temporarily jolting your body to relieve the stress pains it was feeling. When you let your breath go from when you were holding it, it came out as a sigh of relief.

This caused the pressure to stop and you momentarily feared that you had fucked up somehow. You had snapped him out of his fascinated reverie just long enough for him to remember that he could kill you easily. Your worries were shattered when, instead of murdering you there, he applied more pressure to your clit with his thumb, rubbing careful circles against the bloodied fabric as he did so. You felt another gasp tear its way up your throat but, this time, you bit your lip and shut your eyes tight. Just what was going on? Was this a new way he wanted to practice toying with his victims before he killed them?

Your brain argued with you, loudly proclaiming that you shouldn’t let whatever this was keep happening. That you should kick the Trapper away and run. Give him the chase you always did when you faced him. The part of your body that was running on hormones, blood, and pain, however, insisted otherwise. In a three against one vote, you felt your body accept its verdict and slowly loosen the tense way you were sitting. Your legs slackened in his hold and you let your hips push forward against his hands in the slightest of ways.

The movement must have surprised him because no sooner had you done it did his hand stop and move away slightly, as if afraid he had hit something or done something he shouldn’t have. The loss of the sweet pressure made you whine softly in your throat.

He pulled himself away to examine his hand, blood shimmering on his thumb from where it leaked through your jeans. The Trapper tilted his head and watched you in silence. You watched him in return, confused as to just what it was he was trying to understand. A blush leaked onto your cheeks as you realized that you just tried to grind against the hand of a killer while on your period. To be fair, you reasoned in your mind, that would require an explanation for anyone.

“I-I’m on my period,” You choke out softly, daring not to speak above a whisper to him, “It’s heavy and hurts pretty bad, but, pressure eases it a lot….Uh, s-sorry about your finger.”

His hands were literally bloodied all the time, you realized immediately after you spoke, why on earth were you apologizing?

There was another long moment of silence before he gave a slow nod as if in understanding. Suddenly his hands reached for you, all of you, and hoisted you upwards. You shrieked in surprise, wiggling as an immediate panic response to being heaved over someone’s shoulder again. You must have satiated his curiosity and now he was going to kill you because he didn’t actually care about why you just did that. Your headshot around, terrified that there might be a hook in the room you two were in. What if there was one in the adjacent room and he was simply toying with you before easily moving you over? Your breath came faster through the aches and squishes as you tried to free yourself from surely imminent death.

You were shocked when you found yourself moved only a short distance. The length of the room was covered in a few easy steps thanks to his height and, with a rather unceremonious grunt, he dumped your body down onto the nearby bed. For a moment you lay there, shocked at the turn of events that seemed to transpire, before struggling to sit up. The mattress was old but soft. You found yourself sinking into every part of it as it dipped down with your weight. The springs underneath groaned further when The Trapper joined you on it, sitting down on the edge so that his legs were off of the edge, feet planted firmly on the floor below you both.

You were picked up again, but, this time not lifted all the way. It was more like he was guiding you around now, shifting you from one part of the mattress to the other. Still confused and slightly terrified, you allowed yourself to be manhandled until you were sitting down on one of The Trapper’s knees, straddling it. Reaching out, you held onto his shoulders for purchase as you looked down from the position and up to him with confusion. To your gaze, The Trapper only tilted his head to you. You slowly realized that this wasn’t going to be a slaughter.

He was offering a temporary truce. A moment of tense parlay while the two of you waited in limbo for others to begin a true ritual.

To emphasize, he ground his knee against you and the pressure is tantalizing sweet. After a few more experimental pushes and grinds on his accord you decide that, hell, if you’re going to die you are going to at least be able to say that you’ve done something like this with The Trapper ONCE. It’ll come in handy in ‘never have I ever’ you supposed. Your grip tightened resolutely on his shoulders before you ground down on his knee, feeling the way it pushed the wet fabric of your jeans up and against your clit. As you met each movement soft mewls of delight began to escape your lips. With every bit of pressure building in your stomach, your period pains dwindled into dying embers.

You dared not look up at his eyes, but you felt his hands reach for your hips, gripping them tight as he brought you down harder against his leg. You ground faster, pace stuttering as you felt yourself beginning to come undone. God, you were close. You were so close, but it wasn’t enough. You craved more than just the soft release of pain. Your abdomen and uterus clenched with excitement at the possibility of a fuck. Despite knowing who it was you were grinding into, something about it made wetness mix with your blood.

Suddenly his hands gripped you all too tightly, stopping the rhythm you were building. A desperate keen escaped your lips between curses and begs to let you finish. You would have offered to let him kill you even, but, after you finished. You barely recognized the babbles and begging please that fell from your lips as you looked up, at last, into his eyes. Your expression was watery with redness and tears threatening along your cheeks.

There was a long pause in his movements, his body stone against your form as you caught the raggedness of his breaths coming through the mouth of his mask. You tried to squint further through the eye holes, the momentary safety of your truce giving you a sense of bold curiosity as you wondered just how much of Evan’s face you would be able to catch a glimpse of in the barely there light of the room.

The result was another warning grip on your hips before you were thrown to the bed, back to resting your spine on the softness of its edges. You almost wanted to apologize, but your breath was stolen from you when you felt the dip of it again. This time, though, The Trapper towered over you with his knees on either side of your hips. His arms caged your face between their girthy tendons. You could see the bend of his muscles flex as they kept him steady. You could hear the heavy breathing that echoed over him.

“What…” You started but you trailed off, licking your lips in thought. What were you going to do? It was a bit obvious. What should I do? He wouldn’t really care about that would he?

There was no answer as his fingertips brushed down your stomach, the tips of them finding your uterus and digging into the tender flesh. He pressed down with all the fingers on one hand, the calloused thumbs of them rubbing along your jeans and making you bite your lip to stifle a moan. Seemingly displeased with the action, his free hand found your face and squeezed your cheeks painfully in his grip, causing your jaw to clatter together as he forced you to look right at him. Despite the mask covering his features, you were sure the look was a stern, communicative one somehow.

Don’t be quiet.

You could only attempt at a nod in his grasp. When he was seemingly pleased with the reaction, he released your face and allowed his hand to join the other down near your jeans.

With movements far too delicate and careful for you to ever have considered someone like The Trapper to have, he undid the button of your jeans and peeled the zipper down with a satisfying ripping noise. You watched his fingertips graze the edges of your hips before holding the fabric in a firm grip and yanking harshly down. Your underwear was taken with the jeans in his movements, leaving a momentary trail of sticky blood stringing between your core and the fabric.

The embarrassingly long trail of slick made your face heat up and you moved to cover it with your hands again. This time there was a true, feral growl somewhere deep in The Trapper’s throat as his hand rose up to grab at yours with impatient frustration, squeezing your wrists together with a bruising hold before slamming them over your head and into the soft mattress, bending you so that you arched your back to him as he pressed further. His anger had risen and it was clear why, and you still couldn’t help the whimper and struggle you briefly put up with a huff in his face.

“I’m sorry,” You muttered as you averted your gaze glaringly, “I - uh - h-haven’t exactly DONE this with anyone before, especially not one of YOU- “ You put an emphasizing roll of spite onto the ‘you’ as you gestured with your head to his entire form - “I don’t know what to expect.”

This seemed to give him pause as he tilted his head, thinking about your words before somehow deciding that he didn’t care, his grip still hard on your wrists as he moved himself again, his body shifting against yours and his thighs brushing along your own as his free hand reached downwards to touch at your bleeding hole.

Deft fingers slid in easily with the amount of lubrication from both your blood and the previous wetness of having ground so needily along his thigh. Two entered you with ease and the thickness of them stretched you more than you had been in so long. You felt full, stuffed to the brim with his shifting digits as you let the moan of surprise fall from your lips and your head bend backwards into the mattress. Your hips arched themselves upwards, greedy for more of his touch, and you swore that you could hear a cocky chuff of laughter echo from behind that smug mask of his.

He scissored his fingers inside of you, watching your lips spread against his movements and coat the entirety of his hands and the mattress with thick streams of blood. He could feel your walls contract around him from time to time, pushing more of your sickeningly sweet blood out and creating trails of dribbles along his palm and wrists. You took each finger easily up to the knuckle as he forced his hand in and out of you at a tortuously methodical pace.He edged you with careful planning, tilting his head this way and that to get a better view of your blushing, open-mouthed face as he fucked you at such a sensitive moment. During such a peaked sensation.

Your hips moved on his fingertips again, demanding and needy as you gasped.

“Come onnnn,” You whined up at him with a shift of your head, “Y-You’re such a -ngh- fucking tease… Will you- can you just-!”

Your face turned red as the words threatened to spill from your mouth. This only seemed to make The Trapper’s hands slow down even more, scissoring carefully and leaning in closer to your face. His breath washed over your nose, too hot for your already warm body, and you bit your lip to stop yourself from tasting it as you moaned. HIs thumb reached up to barely brush against your bloody clit and a third finger danced in a deliberation on if he should give you what you wanted, making you keen more as you stared upwards.

From here you could see his eyes, though not much of them. They were narrowed and sharp as they gazed into your own, a deep brown that glowed crimson in the right light as he stared.

When he opened his mouth it surprised you. It wasn’t that you didn’t think The Trapper couldn’t speak, but having never heard his voice even in a trial made the noise that pulled itself from his lips, dark and heavy and deep in his throat, something of an amazingly unique sound to grace your ears. Even if the one word he whispered made them turn red:

“Beg.”

You were tempted to protest. To wiggle and demand more in the most bratty tone you could be able to get out, just to spite the killer, but then he pushed a firmer pressure to your clit and made you keen in delight before quickly removing it with a gruff, sadistic laugh. He wouldn’t give you this without getting his way and, bit by bit, you could feel your pride slipping away as you tried to shift your legs more beneath him.

“P-Please,” You gasped out softly, “God - fuck - please! I don’t know what else to say, please, please, please j-just finger me already! Fuck me, I don’t care just please please- ah-!”

It was apparently enough for him. Without warning the bending digits in your aching cunt pistoned back and forth with incredible power. Each time they left your legs there was a sick, squelching noise as your body tried to keep hold of him with its bloodied grasp, and the same noise echoed as he slid them back in and crooked his fingers in just the right spot in the center of your nerves.

He was fucking you with his fingers in earnest now, each thrust and squealch sending a fresh wave of blood down your body and against the edges of the mattress to the point where you could feel it stain your thighs and ass the longer you wallowed in it. In the moment, with a building orgasm of hot, sweet pleasure you couldn’t really bring yourself to care as The Trapper watched your brows furrow and your lip catch itself in your teeth as you concentrated on bringing your orgasm crashing over you. When he sensed you were close he slowly freed your now bruised hands, allowing them to scramble and claw and whatever they were able to reach, first the mattress and then his arms as you clung to the killer for dear live.

You came with a gasp, moaning as your legs clamped themselves over his hand and kept his deliciously thick fingers inside of you, milking yourself down on him with all of your efforts. The spill of slick cum and blood pushed from your body with little reserve as to what a mess it was making and Evan sat back to watch your entire form contract greedily around his fingertips.

The moments it took you to come down from your high were a blissful thing, no cramps edging you against your period as you caught your breath. Looking up, you were just vigilant enough to watch the Trapper bring his hands up to the light of the room and examine the mess you had made on it. Each of his fingers was coated in sticky blood, chunks of uterine tissue clinging to his fingernails and some dribbling down his palm and wrist as he shifted each fingertip for a better look. You felt yourself grow sick with embarrassment over the fact that you had just had an insanely bloody orgasm over the hands of a man who had killed you more than once at the Entity’s request.

Maybe it was best not to think about that right now.

Not that you were able to, for in the next moment you witnessed The Trapper reach down to the edge of his mask with his clean hand and pull it upwards. It was just enough to reveal his lower half of his face, the chiseled jaw littered with ashen scars across dark, stained skin and full lips. He brought his fingers to his mouth and opened wide, bringing his large, broad tongue across each digit with a slow, methodical lick. He looked as though he was tasting some sort of wine, identifying the taste carefully as he slurped it from the edges of his knuckles and between the stretch of skin against each finger. You were hypnotized as he brought his mouth down and licked a trail from his wrist to his knuckle, cleaning up the leftover blood trails that followed suit.

With a final lick of his lips he brought his mask down against his face and watched your reaction in turn. Your mouth had gone dry and your body was trembling, the center of your stomach already building up with more wetness at the actions you had witnessed. Why was this turning you on? Something about it didn’t seem fair, but, one quick gaze down his body to the prominent tent in the edges of his overalls brought you the satisfaction of knowing that you weren’t the only one.

The silence was heavy. You could hear every creak in the floorboards and settling wood around you as you shifted your legs, wincing at the sound of the sheets beneath you, and licked your lips.

“You know um… The more orgasms I have… the less pain I get.” You whispered suggestively, your confidence fading as you furrowed your brows, “Wait you like pain though don’t you? So I guess less orgasms would be better if that was the case. L-Look all I’m saying is that bodies are weird right! No that’s not what I’m saying at all I’m really just- FUCK-”

The curse fell from your lips as he startled you by reaching down, pushing your shirt up and over your head before grabbing your face to open your mouth wide with his fingertips. You could taste the light flavor of your cum and blood on each digit, making you screw your face up into one of annoyance before he shoved your shirt into your mouth, the strip hanging like a poorly fit handkerchief gag against your mouth. The fabric soaked up your saliva and made you gaze up in shocked confusion at the killer.

“You talk too much.” Was the only cheeky response you got before he adjusted himself with a heavy grunt.

You sat there, gagged and paralyzed as you watched him stand. As you watched him undo the straps of his overalls with slow efficiency, moving each piece of clothing down his body to reveal a taught, muscular back. The hooks in his skin glittered dangerously alongside his scars, dancing down the massive muscles of his shoulders and spine until they faded into the smooth curve of his ass. You swallowed around the gag as his outfit fully fell to the floor with a solid ‘thunk’ of its overly metal parts hitting the fragile wood before he turned to you, mask and boots still on as he tilted his head.

The Trapper’s cock was larger than you were expecting it to be and the mere sight of it made you wet again. You thanked God or the Entity or whatever hell monster was watching over you that your blood made you extra slick and receptive, otherwise it would have scared you more to have it anywhere near your body.

To be fair, you were already pretty terrified. This WAS the Trapper after all.

You expected him to lean over you again. To tower over you form as he took you with an intense, greedy sort of hunger you had come to understand that these killers felt. It left you surprised and slightly frustrated when, instead, he lifted your body up as though you weighed nothing to him and replaced it with his own form, sitting you down on his lap instead. Your shirt still clung tight to the skin in your mouth, drying your tongue out as you hissed around it with muffled frustrations. They stuttered and stopped, however, when you felt the hard head of his cock throbbing along the edge of your ass. You squeaked, your legs trying to squeeze together as you felt another dribble of blood fall from yourself, pooling along his abdomen and dripping down his hips.

The movement of your blood seemed to draw a moan from the man beneath you as a large hand came down and slapped at your ass, stinging the tender flesh with a red handprint that made you yelp and squirm more. More blood pooled as a result and it only seemed to rile the Trapper up more, his chuckle deep and baritone in his chest as he let you squirm against him, your hands reaching out to put themselves on his chest as you glared with a teary eyed huff at him. At least he couldn’t make you beg with your words now.

Curiously you reached up to tug at the shirt in your lips. You response from him was a fierce growl and another smack to your ass, making you drop your hands and whimper around the fabric again as, without warning, he lifted you up and plunged your blood soaked cunt down his dick.

Despite your lubrication your body stretched to accommodate him, the head of his cock warm and throbbing as it sunk deep into your throbbing pussy. Your yell devolved into a moan of contentment and, as you gushed one more time around his dick, The Trapper let out the loudest noise you had heard from him to date. A strangled cry that masked a moan as he leaned forward and put his head into your shoulder, his fingertips gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he reveled in the feeling of you around him. Of your bloodstained walls swallowing him and dripping down his thighs, staining his skin further along its cracks and scars.

There was no further warning other than that brief moment of residual revelation before he lifted you upwards, the tip of his cock just barely still inside of you, before slamming down again. You gasped, wiggling on his lap as he set a brutal pace with near desperate immediacy. The feeling of him filling you was overwhelming and you could smell the coppery scent of your blood mixed with your slick as you let him pull you like a cock sleeve. He was so thick. So long and just so - so perfectly what you needed that your cramps had long since fallen into the background of your mind.

It was all you could do to reach out your hands and cling to his broad shoulders, tugging at one of the hooks embedded in his skin without thinking about it. The Trapper responded with a growl, deep and sharp in his throat as you did so, and picked his pace up with an even more feral animosity. Every thrust all but hit your cervix, sending stars to blot your vision as you ran your nails down one of his shoulders, leaving a series of welting scratches in its wake. Your own mark for him in return for the ones you’d have on your hips and ass, surely.

There was only the sound of the two of you rutting into one another. The disgusting squelch - smack - squelch - smack - squelch that signaled your desperation and his command as he reached upwards to grab your neck and squeezed with a tight, firm hand against the softness of your flesh.

The sudden lack of oxygen left you reeling, your head sparking with warning bells and pleasure all at the same time as he continued to push you up and down on his cock. Your fingertips rose up to touch at the wrist holding you around the neck, feeling the intensity of his pulse beneath his calloused flesh as you choked for air, your vision fading into black between the attempts to moan from the pleasure and the inability to gather the air to do so. Was this how you were going to die? Choked by a killer as he used your body like a cocksleeve? Your mind teased between the hazes that, hey, there were definitely worse ways to go.

Just as you felt the suffocation overtaking you, his grip released you ever so slightly. It allowed air into your windpipe for the briefest of moments before clamping mercilessly down again. You knew you’d have matching bruises to your ass along your neck. It’d be fun to explain those, certainly.

It wasn’t something you were worried about at the moment. Not as your body began to careen towards the sweet precipice of a second orgasm and your mind hissed with blank, needy hunger as you bit down hard on your t-shirt, whimpering as tears formed in your eyes and fell down your face with the overstimulation of his hands and cock. Your hand reached away from his own and down your body, finding your clit and gently stroking where his cock met your cunt, feeling him slide in and out and feeling the messy blood of your period slobber itself upon your fingertips as you went to rub your clit with desire.

His hand suddenly left your neck, freeing you up from the bruising grasp of his choking, and proceeded to swat your hand away from your clit. It caused a noisy whine form around your gag, but soon it was replaced with pleasure as his thumb found the small bud and began to rub it in tandem with his intense thrusts, each one growing more and more sporadic as his cock seemed to grow to fill every edge of your cunt. You could feel its heat throbbing into you, the sign of his oncoming orgasm as obvious as the grunts and growls in his voice.

There was little warning before you came, a loud and keening noise that made you arch your back and help him to drive deeper into your hungry core. You felt a series of muscles contract to gush out more blood atop him, pooling an impressive amount beneath you both that only aided in the echo of his hips hitting yours as you collapsed down onto his chest in a heaving mess of exhaustion and bliss.

There were a few more violent thrusts into your abused pussy before The Trapper stilled within you, coming with a long groan that shook his entire chest and sent a shiver down your spine as you felt his hot seed pulse unceremoniously inside of you. He held you against him, fucking you slow through his own orgasm until his hips came to a halt and he stilled inside of you with ragged, gasping breaths.

Silence overcame the small room once again and you could feel the obnoxious amount of liquid between your thighs, making you wince as you dared look back at the mess you had made. Sure enough, both you and Evan were littered with spots of thick red blood from your thighs down. It had soaked into a decent third of the mattress at this point, dying the white edges red and mixing with the strings of pink semen mixed with your blood that dribbled from your abused hole. You shuddered at the sight and felt your hands clench against the Trapper’s muscular form.

Your needs satiated and your cramps abide for the time, you felt the sudden fog of a heavy sleep rolling over your entire body. You looked upwards at the Trapper for a moment, brows knit in confusion as you stared at him with a curious gaze. His eyes remained that same shade of crimson brown behind the holes of his mask as he watched you back, his breath already returning to its even, unreadable state. The bastard and his good stamina…

A hand reached up to remove the gag from your lips. Your dry mouth heaved for sweet fresh air between it. He took a hold of your neck again, thumb fondly rubbing at your bottom lip with something of a rough adoration before you felt your eyes droop fully and your mind faded into a distant darkness, his breathing a lullaby for you to sleep away the rest of your pains.

---

You awoke to a fresh wave of cramps, gnarly and rude in their twisting of your uterus, and you groaned as you sat up to clutch your stomach with annoyance. Dizzy with the pain, you pushed yourself forward a bit to find your bearings, the memories of the previous night flooding back to you in a panic of realization. Heat rose in your cheeks at the thought of the Trapper and you scrambled to look around you, biting your lip in terror as you gazed at your surroundings.

You were back at the camp with your fellow survivors, clothing neatly in place and uterus still pumping out unnecessarily impressive amounts of blood much to your chagrin. You found yourself missing the blissful sleep you had gotten after the orgasm, regardless of who had brought it to you or not. You exhaled and tried to soothe the ache with a rub of your fingertips as you curled into a ball and suppressed a smirk.

You wondered if the Trapper would ever be up for another truce again?

Maybe you should go find out.

#evan macmillan #evan macmillan imagine #evan macmillan x reader #the trapper #trapper #dbd trapper #dead by daylight #dbd #dbd imagine #spicy #slasher imagine #slasher x reader #i hope you all enjOY

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carlyserrano · 3 years

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[ GEORGINA AMOROS, SHE/HER, CISFEMALE ] — [ CARLOTA “CARLY” SERRANO ] is a child of [ HYPNOS ] with the power of [ SLEEP MANIPULATION AND INDUCEMENT ] . they were born in [ 1998 ] and have been in nemean lion since [ 2016 ] . with the change, they [ ARE TRAINING IN ] the [ STANDARD ] role which makes sense since they’re usually [ HAVING AN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS AND NAPPING ] . if you’d like to meet them try the [ SUN ] building . — kati / she & her / est / 18+

links: stats / pinterest .

background

carly spent most of her life knowing this : her mother died of sadness. it must be a terrible thing, to be a mortal that loves a god that deeply. so much that not being able to be with them tears you apart.

she doesn’t really remember her mother, she was only three years old when she took her own life, but carly still wishes she could have done something, that she could have been enough to make her happy – or at least to take away that overwhelming sadness.

as a result, carly was raised by her mortal grandparents. this accounts for some of carly’s old-fashioned taste in film, music and even fashion, raised by guardians fifty years her senior.

carly loved stories. whether her nose was stuck in a book or she was daydreaming herself, her mind was always exploring fantastical possibilities. sometimes daydreaming would take a step further into actual dreaming, which was something teachers started to struggle with in class. prone to fits of sleeping – which would be diagnosed as narcolepsy by her teachers – it became problematic. it was very difficult, pretty much impossible to wake her if she didn’t want to be woken up. as her powers grew, people around her would be prone to sleeping as well, but she didn’t understand how she was doing it or what exactly triggered it.

on carly’s thirteenth birthday, her grandparents sat her down to have “the talk” – they told her about her father’s identity and the true story behind what happened with her mother, finally thinking she was old enough to understand. it devastated her, how truly sad things had been for her mother and the circumstances surrounding her life. she honestly just wanted to be NORMAL. when her grandparents brought up nemean lion and suggested sending her there, carly refused. only thirteen, she didn’t want to travel to a new country and leave behind her grandparents. the changed scared her and she still held out hope of living a somewhere ‘normal’ life. she was legit just thirteen and scared to travel overseas and leave home...but with some new added trauma, too.

but things started to get worse from her going forward. children of hypnos are extremely powerful and carly didn’t know how to control any of the things that she was going through. her sleep patterns as a teenager became erratic, insomnia for days on end and then the inverse. after carly slept for a week straight, her grandparents felt like they had no choice. they couldn’t care for her and weren’t properly equipped to handle what she was going through, and when carly was seventeen, she had no choice but to pack her things and move to america.

despite missing her grandparents terribly, carly wanted to make the most of a bad situation. mentors at nemean lion taught her about her powers and more about how to use them – her ability to alter someone’s consciousness with a snap of her fingers. slowly, she started to become more confident in powers that she’d never thought she would be able to control. carly is the sort of person who tries desperately hard to make others happy, to look after them, and she considered switching to the hero track when she had a better handle on things, but she never got that far.

all of these people telling her how gifted she was definitely added to her confidence, but maybe...overdid it a little for a girl who had never felt special before, for someone that felt like an outsider and now was very much an insider with a lot of friends and like, the ability to have a social life now that she could maintain a normal sleep schedule. she really started to envision herself as this bold hero.

i’m having trouble putting this articulately and i keep rewriting this so i’ll just present this part. messily. naive, romantic carly falls for a fuckboy > loses her virginity then he totally ditches her like there was never anything between them > she’s pissed off and hurt so they get into a fight in the middle of the training room > she snaps her fingers to get him to shut up while her emotions are at an all time high and...he ends up in the infirmary in a coma. that was enough to teach her that her powers were not a good thing.

not only did she land the reputation of being the-person-most-butthurt-from-being-ghosted-ever but she also realized that her powers are STILL growing. she never thought she’d be capable of doing something like that, and she doesn’t know her own limits, and the realization scares her. she doesn’t feel like she’s capable of controlling her own emotions under pressure and she loses the confidence that she’s built – remaining in the standard track for the next two years or so.

homeboy likely did wake up from the coma as a result of NL having the best healers in the world but it took like some months, like he got his shit ROCKED.

so, that’s kind of in the past for her now, though it’s something she still struggles with, not knowing her own strength and being scared of letting her emotions get the best of her again. she now rarely uses her powers and is a bit scared of her own self, kind of just floating by in the standard track and only thinking of the hero track in like, her wildest daydreams. she just doesn’t really trust herself and doesn’t even know the full extent of her abilities, especially because it’s possible that as a child of hypnos she’s probably still developing more over time.

personality

FAIR: carly tends to stick to her morals, a distinct sense of what’s right and wrong. this can have some gray areas on the godly world, but she sees good guys and bad guys. due to her diplomatic world view, she’s pretty good at looking at a situation objectively and treats people and situations with fairness, apt to try to be the peacemaker in a friend group or during a disagreement. she also thinks that everyone inherently wants to be good and do good, so she’s inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt and second chances going forward.

SOCIABLE: extroverted and loves being around people, once you get started on a conversation with her, she could go for hours. definitely not one to isolate herself, she’s happiest when hanging out with friends or at social gatherings, doing things with other people. if she is awake, she is probably either reading or talking to someone and i’m sure her friends think she could learn to shut up sometimes but she can’t help but share her every thought, really lacks a filter.

LOVING: carly will freely give her whole heart to people, i think ! she’s not afraid to put her heart on her sleeve for people and she honestly puts a lot of her own value in the happiness of others / needing to make others happy, so she’s pretty selfless about wanting to show great love and care for the people in her life. i think of carly as a pretty big-hearted person who is not afraid to put herself out there and say how she feels about someone or something and she will show great affection for her friends, who she considers family.

i suppose some people could feel smothered by her at times but truly her heart is just so full

NAIVE: often thinks what you see is what you get with people, which...rarely the case. but she’s just so inclined to believe in the goodness of people and give second chances that she can sometimes get in over her head. the fact that she sees things in such black and white can be hard for her, because she’s seen her powers do bad things and she’s inclined to believe that she herself might be bad, or that those powers are bad, and she refrains from using them. essentially, she still has so much to learn.

STUBBORN: once she gets an idea in her head, it is really hard to change carly’s mind or get her to waver on it. she can be a bit infuriating in an argument because of this, and this also tends to get her to believe that her very first judgement of people is correct. very firm in her ideas once she has her mind made up, to a fault.

ANXIOUS: literally has anxiety but tends to get really nervous about being liked or doing things wrong, overthinking the small stuff. and the big stuff, like her powers. when she gets overwhelmed, however, her favorite escape mechanism is simply to go take a nap and then she’ll deal with it when she wakes up. essentially prone to nervousness, which is why she can sometimes overcompensate by talking a lot or going to great lengths to make sure someone likes her or to make sure that person knows she likes them.

headcanons

honestly is so fulfilled by reading like, she’s the sort of person to get really attached to characters in books and feel like they are her best friends ! so, she gets a lot out of stories and spends a lot of her alone time a ) reading or b ) journaling/scrapbooking.

is a really meticulous record keeper ! she keeps track of her days and is probably the one snapping photos when hanging out and she keeps scrapbooks over the years at NL and beyond, has the most fun collection of colored paper on her shelf that you’ve ever seen.

big angel energy ? i think. she doesn’t really partake in drinking or smoking ( though she’ll have like, a glass of wine during dinner or before bed, she really likes white wines bc she basic ) and do be wearing her heart on her sleeve, a very trustworthy person, i would call her dependable in situations though she’s too naive to be your mom friend because her advice definitely does not come from wisdom – she can be a bit of a ditz/airhead, actually.

if she sees something shiny and pretty in nature, she will keep it. so, that means she’s got flowers pressed between books, pretty rocks lining her windowsill, and some colorful leaves probably crumpled up in the bottom of her backpack. just loves collecting STUFF.

lots of her clothing is either vintage/thrifted or sweatpants/sweatsuits. generally she will go for comfort first when picking out something to wear.

favorite ice cream is cookie dough and she could eat it all day.

takes a nap every day i feel like most of her friends know they probably can’t reach her between like 3pm-6pm because she is having her little nap.

i might give her another power at some point idk i read on the hypnos wiki that his children are mad powerful and sometimes develop additional abilities later in life so who knows but prob something cute with dreams idk

wanted connections

gal pals, girl besties, girl squad ?? i just think that women, essentially, and i feel like the vibes of movie nights and sleepovers together and painting each others nails and gossiping late into the night would be super wholesome and would make me feel at peace in my soul and such.

i also want like a brooke to her haley james !!! sort of. i want this vibe, where carly is 🌼👼🧸 and ur muse is kinda 💃🍷💋

also gal pals in the way that they kiss sometimes but it’s not serious or is it !!! show ur friends u love them by kissing them on the mouth !!!

that boy she put into a coma. idk if your character fits sort of that player archtype and would be kind of a dick / would ghost a girl after sex then maybe this is for you !! if you’d be down to have your character have been in a coma for like 2 months a couple years ago. she feels so so bad about it though.

an ex? probably on good terms so we can talk about why things didn’t work out but honestly break my heart and fuck me up because it probably would have been like, her first love and there’s still a bit of a soft spot even if it’s not the same i’m sure she just wants them to be so happy ! maybe she’s trying to like, set them up with one of her friends and it’s weird.

married couple friends. you know, that best friend she has where they kind of bicker like a married couple and they’re both really stubborn but there’s a lot of love and mutual respect there.

a mentor or something? maybe someone in the hero track that sees how much she’s struggling with her powers and puts in the extra work to help her train a little. she says she doesn’t care about being a hero but maybe they can see right through her a little bit.

someone she can actually help. i’d love a way for her to realize she can use her powers for good a little bit! maybe if your char suffers from insomnia, bad dreams, something in their trauma makes it hard for them to have a regular sleep schedule...she feels inclined to help them a little bit? this would take time and some build up because she’s not really comfortable using her powers, but i’d love a storyline where she learns how she can use this power positively like that and she helps someone sleep a little better.

yearning. i don’t know <3 carly can have a little crush on someone who doesn’t give a fuck about her. i feel like she’s the type to have little crushes on everyone she’s prob a little in love w all her friends.

old friendships. maybe something that fizzled out after the incident a couple years ago, like maybe they were close before but they were really pissed at her for what she did and the two of them were just never able to make up afterwards, maybe they were pals with the guy that she hurt !!

bad influence? she’s so LAWFUL and GOOD, i’d love for someone to help her see the grey areas a little bit and crack her out of her shell or something, just kind of soft. in a healthy way, maybe they bring out the best in each other but also maybe one day it gets taken too far !

#nlintro #* ☁️⠀ / ⠀ 𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘿 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ❪ ⠀ intro. ⠀ ❫#suicide mention tw

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Story at-a-glance

There are 10 steps that every tyrannical government has followed. We are now at step 10. Once the 10th step locks into place, there will be no going back

The 10 steps toward tyranny start with the invocation of a terrifying internal and/or external threat. From 2001 onward, that threat was terrorism, which was used as the justification for stripping us of our liberties

With the declaration of COVID-19 as a global pandemic, we entered step 10, where emergency powers and laws are used to strip remaining freedoms from the people, censorship is enacted and certain kinds of speech is criminalized

We must get involved and fight to enact state legislation that protects against continued erosion of freedom and reestablishes rights and liberties

The Daily Clout platform was created for this purpose. It allows citizens to lobby already drafted, turnkey bills to their legislators

This is the article in full:

Naomi Wolf, a former adviser to the Clinton administration, is a prolific author and Yale University graduate. She also received a prestigious Rhodes Scholarship that allowed her to complete her Ph.D. in English and literature at Oxford University in 2015. Eight years before that, she wrote a book called “The End of America,” which is the topic of this interview. “The End of America” was published in 2007. At the end of this article, you will find a playlist of three videos in which she reads select chapters of the book. You can also download the first and last chapters for free on the publisher’s website, chelseagreen.com.1A Prescient Warning Already in 2007, Wolf warned us of where we were headed. In her book, she points out that would-be tyrants are found on both sides of the political spectrum. We must not get locked into generalizations about political affiliations, because they simply do not give us a truthful picture of who the enemy is. While Wolf and I could be said to be on opposite sides of the political spectrum, Wolf being a long-time progressive while many would view me as a conservative, our views are in perfect alignment when it comes to the issues of protecting American freedom and liberty.We are [now] at Step 10. I've been trying to warn people, tirelessly, as much as I can, that we are at Step 10 and that once Step 10 locks in, there is no going back. ~ Naomi WolfIn “The End of America,” Wolf lays out the 10 steps toward tyranny. These steps have been followed by virtually all would-be tyrants, be they on the political left or right. They were followed in Italy in the '20s, Germany in '30s, East Germany in the '50s, Chile in the '70s and China in the '80s. “They all took the same 10 steps, and they always work,” Wolf says. “I warned people that when you start to see these 10 steps, you have to take action, because there is no way to recover once things go too far without a bloody revolution or a civil war. We are [now] at Step 10. People have said, since I wrote that book in 2007, ‘Tell us when we're at Step 10.’ I've always said, ‘Things are bad, they're getting worse, but there's still hope.’ We're literally at Step 10 now. I've been trying to warn people, tirelessly, as much as I can, that we are at Step 10 and that once Step 10 locks in, there is no going back.”We’re in the Final Step of the Implementation of Tyranny.The 10 steps toward tyranny start with the invocation of a terrifying internal and/or external threat. It may be a real threat or an imagined one, but in all cases, it’s a hyped-up threat. From 2001 onward, that threat was terrorism, which was used as the justification for stripping us of our liberties. Ultimately, that wasn’t effective enough.“There was still freedom in the world. People were not saying, ‘ISIS exists; therefore, I'm going to give up my First Amendment liberties, my Fourth Amendment liberties, my Second Amendment liberties and so on.’ Sadly, this medical crisis — which is now not a pandemic in many states and countries, it's an endemic; it doesn't meet the formal definition of a pandemic — was the perfect excuse for leaders to usher in Step 10,” Wolf says. The last and final step in the implementation of tyranny, Step 10, involves the creation of a surveillance state where citizens are spied upon, and critique of the government is reclassified as dissent and subversive activity. Step 10 The surveillance state is now being rolled out in the form of vaccine passports, while certain kinds of speech are said to be dangerous and freedom of speech is being criminalized. Needless to say, the mainstream press is an important part of this scheme. “The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation have essentially bought up the western press and coerce them, bribe them, into following the party line, brought up by the CDC and so on,” Wolf says.“Toward the end of the steps, which is Step 10, is emergency law, [which is a] subversion of the rule of law, also called martial law. We're here. I'm [in] New York State. We're under emergency law. Every 30 days, I get an email saying that tyrannical Governor Cuomo has extended emergency powers, even though in Columbia County where I live, there are only eight deaths a month with COVID, average age 85, which is older than the average American life span. It's not a pandemic where I live, but I'm living under emergency law, which means the legislature has no power. The governor can do whatever he wants. It’s the same in Massachusetts, same in California — 49 states, all states except Alaska, are technically under emergency law. This is terrifying. You get what you're seeing, which is governors deciding, or the federal government deciding, that you can't assemble, you can't worship, you have no medical choice, the coercion of vaccine passports, your child can't go to school, your young adult can't get a college education if they don't agree to an experimental vaccination. You get suspension of the right to property. You can't run your business — 110,000 restaurants have closed. You get a suspension of freedoms of speech. People are being deplatformed left and right and there are movements in Congress to criminalize what had been First Amendment protected speech. You get the invocation of martial powers and there's no end to it. Literally, with Massachusetts emergency law, I have no rights. I have no ability to lobby the governor. With New York’s emergency law, I have no representative with the power to end emergency measures. The governor has to end emergency measures, [and] he's the one who benefits from them. It's catastrophic. We're seeing a complete takeover of American rights, freedoms and bodies by Big Tech, which is up double digits to triple-digit billions since the pandemic began. China has moved in to … establish its role as the global superpower under the guise of this pandemic, buying up community groups, elected officials and the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, which are flooding K through 12 education … community groups [and] universities with money to engage in COVID education — which means a strict party line [narrative] that is aimed at destroying what's human about us and what's free. That's it in a nutshell. It's unbelievably terrifying.”What the COVID-19 Passports Are Really AboutWolf was recently interviewed by Fox News’ Steve Hilton (above), in which she warned that mandatory COVID-19 passports will spell the “end of human liberty in the West”:2,3 In essence, they’re a precursor to the social credit system that has already been implemented in China. The vaccine passes have already been rolled out in New York, where Wolf lives. Surveillance is nothing new, of course. We’ve been digitally surveilled for years, through social media platforms, Google and all manner of “smart” technology. Since the early 2000s, Google and Facebook in particular have been data mining online users. These data, then, have been applied to deep learning computers, giving them unprecedented ability to predict the type of messaging triggers that will create the maximum amount of fear — and thus compliance. There’s also every reason to assume that this information has also been shared with people like Bill Gates, who largely controls the World Health Organization. If it wasn’t for the WHO, we would not be in this situation, because it was the central organization with the authority to declare a global pandemic, and keep it in place long past its natural expiration date. They actually changed the definition of “pandemic,” removing the requirement of mass casualties, and if it wasn’t for that, COVID-19 simply would not qualify as a pandemic. The Pandemic Is Hypothetical at BestWolf points out that COVID-19 dashboards, such as Johns Hopkins’ COVID-19 tracking project that mainstream media keep citing, cannot tell us anything about who’s actually getting infected, or who’s dying. We don’t even know if they are showing real or made up data.Wolf, being the CEO of a tech company, builds digital dashboards based on government data, so she knows what she’s talking about. You have to have the raw datasets. Since none of the dashboards provide the raw data, nothing can be verified. “Basically, they can dial up cases, which are positive PCR tests, or dial them down,” she says. So, the entire pandemic narrative is unverified.We do know, however, that the CDC has shifted influenza and pneumonia deaths to COVID-19 deaths, and tens of thousands of Americans die from these conditions every year. When lawmakers in Minnesota audited death records, for example, they found a 40% over-attribution of deaths to COVID-19. Then there’s the PCR test scandal. Not only have laboratories everywhere been using excessively high amplification cycles resulting in staggeringly high false positive rates, but they also do not account for duplicate tests. If you get a positive test, and test once a week until you test negative, each positive test result you obtain is counted as a separate “case.”“We literally can't know if there's been a pandemic, there's so much faulty attribution, inflation of numbers, and so on,” Wolf says. “Those numbers, I can't stress enough, have never been audited ... We have to do a freedom of information request in Britain to take a look at the raw data sets that are being fed into the Office for National Statistics, COVID dashboard. We looked at where the data were flowing from for the Johns Hopkins dashboard, which again, was used by every major university, every major news outlet. One of the data providers was a hedge fund! … I know something else about APIs. It is virtually impossible to, in real time, get hundreds of thousands of reports from hundreds of thousands of doctors, hospitals, CVS and Rite Aid, feeding into a live digital dashboard. I keep asking the developers to show me, ‘How did you do this? It's virtually impossible.’ There's no answer, there's crickets. Literally, we don't know if the dashboards are just dialing up and dialing down infection rates. Everyone's taking for granted that these must be real numbers, but there's no evidence that they are real numbers. I'm willing to stand corrected if there's a FOIA and we see the raw data sets. But right now, it is a hypothetical pandemic.”Collusion by Tech CompaniesTech companies have also engaged in what Wolf likens to criminal collusion. She explains:“In March of last year, for the COVID-19 response project, Zoom, NASDAQ, Nintendo, Microsoft, Amazon — all the people who benefited from the lockdown — coordinated so that wherever you go on the internet, across platform to platform, you see these alerts about COVID-19, warnings about COVID, instructions about COVID, and of course, censorship … if you run afoul of the narrative about COVID. I run a tech company. The question, when you run a tech company, is how do you get people to not do things in the real world, and do things on your platform? That's the business model. If people are gathering in churches, gathering in real school rooms, if they're going for walks together, go on picnics, having dinner parties, going to clubs, that's an opportunity lost to Microsoft and Google and so on. But if they can drive you indoors, terrify you from being around other people, or make it unlawful to be around other people through these emergency powers that restrict assembly [then they can profit] … Digital learning curriculum were turnkey, ready to go. Suddenly, it was like, ‘Oh, kids have to be at home and do distance learning.’ That's a $300 million industry for just one company that creates digital curriculums. They're not going to let go of that. I think we are in a small loop of six tech companies [and] the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, having bought legislators in China, who's up 32% while the economies of the West have crashed, and that's the fight that we have to fight.”The Legalization of Tyranny. Few people realize that dictators such as Mussolini and Hitler came to power in legal working democracies. They became subverted and rules of law were rewritten in such a way as to allow these leaders to legally take over. That's one of the primary dangers we now face in the U.S., because at the end of step 10, the leader obtains the legal authority to become a tyrant.“This is especially true of the National Socialists,” Wolf says. “They kept passing a set of laws called the Enabling Acts that are very much like the laws that are being passed now. They criminalized certain speech, created a surveillance apparatus for citizens … and they did this lawfully. They were elected, and they passed restrictive law after restrictive law. Then, once democracy was fragile enough, it really only took six months for thugs to beat up opposition leaders, union leaders, the outspoken and clergy. After that, everyone was too scared to speak. We're seeing the same thing happen now, but faster. It's very scary that China has created a white paper — the World Economic Forum has it on its website — that maps how biofascism, as I call it — vaccinations, the managing of people's bodies, biometrics and health — is being launched as a way to control civic engagement, governance, private life, assembly and every other aspect of human life, to bring about super-fast totalitarianism. That's why focusing on legislation is something I've been doing with my company DailyClout, very seriously, because if we don't pass laws immediately to make unlawful some of the things we're seeing, there will be no more hope for us.”Using the Legal System to Save the Law. One strategy of totalitarianism that must be fought through legislation is the requirement of vaccine passports. “Once these are launched … people like you and I, Dr. Mercola, will be switched off of society. ‘Oops, my vaccine passport is positive. I guess I can't go food shopping for my family.’ ‘I said something critical of biofascism on Dr. Mercola's show, so now my child can't get into school.’ Just as in Israel, people who are critics are being surveilled [and] marginalized from society. It has turned into a two-tier society. If you choose not to get vaccinated, then you're really in a marginalized minority in an apartheid state. The more we know about these vaccines, the scarier it is to have coercion that is social. It's also illegal. In America, we have the Americans with Disabilities Act. It means it's illegal to even ask me anything about my medical status. You can't ask me if I'm pregnant. You can't ask me if I'm disabled. You can't ask me if I have diabetes or HIV. You cannot ask me anything. By definition, these intrusive measures are unlawful. We have to use the law to save the law, basically. In Michigan, there's an edict from the governor that 2- to 4-year-old children have to be masked. This is child abuse. Science doesn't support it. Unlawful, tyrannical laws are being passed across the country under the guise of emergency measures, and stupid people going along with it, like in Congress, I'm embarrassed to say, because I voted for Biden. We have to fight before we are living in fascist regime where every move is tracked and we're marginalized from society.”The Courts Are Our Last Hope, And They’re Now Under AttackOne area in which “The End of America” excels is helping you understand is that the United States was founded by people who had repressive societies. Their goal was to prevent such a repressive society from emerging again. The founders had to personally reckon with criminalized speech, arbitrary arrest, state sanctioned torture and even murder.So, at great personal sacrifice, they signed the Constitution. Had they lost the Revolutionary War, they would all have been executed, so the stakes could not have been higher. As a result, our founding fathers constructed a carefully balanced system to make sure no tyrant could ever come to power. We’re now facing a scenario that could obliterate that delicate balance, namely the Biden administration’s call to “pack the court,” i.e., add, in this case four, additional Justices to the Supreme Court. We’re now facing a shift in our legal structure that will allow for the legalization of tyrannical reign and “legally” override the carefully constructed governmental balance between the legislative, executive and judicial branched that has previously served to prevent tyranny in the U.S.This three-tier branch, constructed to safeguard our freedoms, is under direct attack, and this is NOT a partisan issue. Not by a longshot, and everyone needs to wake up to this fact. It’s an issue of freedom versus tyranny.“Absolutely,” Wolf says. “Sadly, this is clear. That's why I'm saying progressives have to wake up … I worry very much about the role of China in this, because I think we've seen that some people connected to the Democratic Party have close ties with members of the Chinese Communist Party. That is just established fact. I'm not saying that the tyrants are on the left. In Britain, it's Tories cracking down on liberty, holding the country under house arrest. In Australia it's conservatives, in Canada it's Trudeau, a liberal. This isn't partisan. But in America, we do have to face the fact that this administration is drunk on power and has some bad actors aligned with it, including Silicon Valley. They are crushing conservative voices, kicking them off of public platforms in addition to voices critical of the COVID narrative. They're also moving at warp speed to use their own phrasing about something else to lock in power in a way that is against everything our founders set in place — the most beautiful, delicate system of checks and balances any human beings have ever created; an ideal of people all over the world who want freedom and balanced accountable government. Yeah, packing the Supreme Court is a horrific tampering with some of the last checks and balances that we have … I can't believe I keep saying thank God for the conservatives on the bench. But these days, I have to say it, and I'm ashamed. But thank God, because they were the ones who in California said ‘No, you cannot keep people from assembling to worship. That is a violation of the Constitution.’ They're our last hope. The courts are our last hope. It is catastrophic, and I see other scary movements against accountable democracy that are being put forward by this administration. Among them, President Biden is not saying to the blue states: ‘You have to give up your emergency powers. You have to open up. You can't control people in their homes, you can't force people to have vaccinations and you can't keep people from assembling and worshipping.’ These are all violations of their constitutional liberties. He's not saying that. That's a complete failure of leadership, if not worse. My people have to rise up and face it. Conservatives have to face cleaning up their own houses … What's at stake is everything, and we all have to unite across party lines and save our Constitution and make these people accountable, whatever their party [affiliation].”Urgent Call to Action The good news is, the would-be tyrants have not won yet. That said, we have no time to spare. We have no time to remain idle, hoping it will all just go back to normal on its own. The answer is peaceful mass civil disobedience.“There's hope in mass peaceful civil disobedience … when things are really dire,” Wolf says. “My favorite story is about the singing revolution of Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia, in which they were under the grip of the Soviet Union, a massive tyrannical monolith. They all decided to just peacefully gather on a highway that extended the length of their three countries and sing. They kept peacefully disrupting business as usual in their cities, making it impossible for work to continue, for traffic to go on. They sat down, they linked arms and they sang. Over time, they just wore down the Soviet Union. That's a beautiful model. Same thing with Dr. Martin Luther King. His was a peaceful revolution of civil disobedience.”This strategy is time-consuming, however, so be prepared to stand your ground for as long as it takes. It can take months, years even, when you have nothing else in your arsenal. Peaceful disobedience is the primary strategy in armed countries as well. As mentioned, we must also rally behind legislation that prevents the alteration of laws that safeguard our freedoms.Join the Five Freedoms Campaign!To that end, Wolf has started the Five Freedoms Campaign, which you can find on her Daily Clout website. The campaign focuses on creating legislation to preserve key freedoms and prevent emergency laws from infringing on our freedom to assembly, worship, protest and engage in business. Legislation is also being crafted to open schools, remove mask mandates and eliminate requirements for vaccine passports.“We've had overwhelmingly high levels of support,” Wolf says. “I hope your followers will also join us. We hired a really distinguished lawyer who is drafting model legislation. She has finished the new vaccine passport bill and we've gotten state legislators in Maine, New Hampshire and Michigan to sponsor to pass that legislation. I'm sending out the request for 47 other state legislatures to adopt this model legislation. Contact me, I'll come out, I'll speak to your legislature. We'll do a rally, we'll do a press conference, as we're doing in Maine on April 27. We've got to pass these bills. Then she's going to work on an omnibus bill to make all five freedoms inviolable so that no one can pass mask mandates as they did in Michigan today. No one can force vaccine passports as they're doing in New York, so that we can get our freedoms back.”Wolf and her team are making this interactive process as easy as possible by posting good model bills on dailyclout.io, and proactively drafting much-needed bills. Many state legislators are not lawyers, and they don't have lawyers at their beck and call. Citizens can now send these model bills to their legislators, knowing that they’ve undergone legal review and are ready to be passed. You can also go even further than that:“You can tell us the bill you want. We can upload a campaign for that bill. We can hire our lawyer to draft a model bill and then you can pass it. What we've been doing is gathering names and zip codes, so that we can add real voters to this piece of model legislation in real states and send it to real state legislators and say, ‘Look, the supporters are all there. All you have to do is pass this.’ It's a fantastic intervention in the political process, restoring real democracy. It's why we founded Daily Clout, but it's beautiful to see hundreds and hundreds of people from all walks of life rushing to give us support and resources, to become members and give us donations, which we appreciate, so that we can keep our lawyer busy creating these draft bills. It's not just for this issue. Once we get our rights and freedoms back, whatever [citizens] want, we can draft a bill for you, and you can [call on your legislators to] pass it.”Limiting Emergency PowersAnother facet that needs to be addressed is governors’ emergency powers. Some states have been locked down under emergency power for more than a year, which is insane, considering we’re not in an emergency and haven’t been for many months. These emergency powers need to be limited in some way, as they are at the heart of all this unlawful behavior. As explained by Wolf: “Emergency law basically suspends the Constitution of the United States. As I've said elsewhere, the Constitution doesn't say all this can be suspended if there's disease. We've been through typhus, cholera, smallpox, HIV, Spanish flu, polio, tuberculosis — disease after disease, without ever having emergency law extended without review month after month. We've had world wars fought without emergency laws. We were attacked on our soil without emergency law being declared in New York state after 9/11. There's no justification for it. It's against everything we believe in. It's unconstitutional.” So, one of the five freedoms Wolf’s campaign focuses on is the restriction of emergency laws. New Hampshire has become the first state to pass a bill that accomplishes this. It reforms emergency law such that the Governor’s emergency powers cannot be indefinitely extended without review by the legislature. They also passed a bill that guarantees freedom of worship, and another bill that ensures emergency law cannot be invoked indefinitely in any future crisis.4“We've now passed along our model ‘No vaccine passport’ bill to the New Hampshire legislators,” Wolf says. “If they can do it in New Hampshire, with our help, with your help, they can do it across the country. But we need to get that model legislation out to every legislature and mobilize that grassroots movement to pass the end of emergency law. I mean, look what's happening in New York State. It's insane. Fourteen state legislators are trying to get Governor Cuomo to end emergency law. But as our laws are written, Governor Cuomo has to be the one to end his own emergency law. There're a huge amount of lobbying that has to happen for these legislators to understand that there are eyes on them, that they're accountable. I'm going to be reporting and … hopefully millions of people will be following and helping to pass these laws to get back our rights.”Daily Clout Empowers Citizens to Lobby for Freedom. To be clear, the Daily Clout is not a lobbying group. YOU are the ones lobbying your legislators. Daily Clout simply provides the needed assistance so that you can do that easily and effectively. “It's such a beautiful effort, because you'd have to come out and say, ‘The people of New Hampshire have no right to pass their own legislation’ in order to oppose an effort like this,” Wolf says. “We're not a special interest. It's just the people. It's the people of New Hampshire, people of Maine, passing their own legislation. I do hear, consistently, that Democrats won't help, that in many states with their democratic majorities, it's going to be difficult if Democrats don't reach across the aisle and add their names. I'm sending out the call to Democrats to support this legislation. I'm going to warn everyone, speaking as a former political consultant, that the party that embraces the restoration of freedom is going to be the party that wins in 2022 and 2024. There's no question about that. This is going to be a winning issue. People know something is terribly wrong, but they don't know what to do. This is a completely unprecedented assault on liberty. With my many years in national politics, I know what to do. This is why we developed Daily Clout. If you show up with a turnkey piece of legislation and some turnkey supporters, that's a very quick fix for a really catastrophic crisis that has a legislative solution. As long as there's still legislatures, we can pass good legislation at the state level. At the federal level, it's going to be harder, because there isn't any balance right now. I'm very inspired there's so many people serving at the state legislature level who are really decent citizens, who are not partisan hacks. People who really ran to help their neighbors and help their communities and who are not wholly owned by China, Big Tech or whatever, and who want to do the right thing. I could be wrong, but in two weeks [since we launched the Daily Clout site] we've already been invited to address state legislators and draft legislation for three, and that's without any marketing budget or anything but platforms like this, where I say it's available. We started Daily Clout because citizens didn't have a platform to be effective at lobbying for their own issues. This is a turnkey platform that does that for them. I designed it that way. I designed it, as a former political consultant, knowing that the way things are set up, ordinary citizens don't have a seat at the table. There is no easy way to engage in civic action.

This makes it easy, makes it digital and people are using it.”How to Use the Daily Clout Site.So, how do you get involved? First, go to dailyclout.io and sign up to become a paying member or free subscriber. You will then receive an email explaining how to use the Five Freedoms Campaign.

Presently, there is a model “no vaccination passports” bill that you can send to your state legislator.There’s also a feature called BillCam, where you can see who your state legislator is by entering your zip code. Daily Clout will also email you links and explain how to find your state legislator. If you provide your name and zip code, which will remain confidential, your state legislator’s contact information will be included in the email.“We're creating a widget right now to attach your name and zip code to the model bills so it goes right to your state legislator, showing that the bill already has support,” Wolf explains. “But in the meantime, you can look up any bill on BillCam. Those are bills that have already been introduced or passed. There are ‘No vaccine passport’ bills, for instance. We're showcasing them on BillCam. It's already set up, so you can just tweet it to the sponsor, tweet it to representative. You can Facebook it to your community. It already goes through social media and you can show support by ‘voting on it’ in the widget on BillCam as you share legislation with your community.”Once you’re a subscriber or member, you’ll get regular updates about happenings around the U.S. and community events. They’re also installing a widget that will allow you to meet with like-minded people in your state who want this legislation passed. Lastly, you can write to Daily Clout and ask them to draft a bill. A lawyer will then be assigned to draft it for you.“Right now, we're focused on the Five Freedoms Campaign, but there is that functionality. You can write a blog and explain the bill that you want. You can send us a video and explain what your issue is, and all of this goes to shining a light on the legislators. They're not used to having a light shone on them. That really does drive outcomes. Those are the steps that you can take,” Wolf says. We’ve already seen how effective this strategy can be, with New Hampshire passing three bills to protect citizens’ freedoms. “I never want to take credit away from legislators working hard to pass bills, but I know that we helped,” Wolf says. “I know that our lawyer has been in close touch with some of those state legislators in New Hampshire and provided language that we pay for, so that those legislators would have a turnkey bill to act on.”Hundreds of people also wrote to New Hampshire’s Governor Christopher Sununu, urging him to lift the mask mandate, which he recently did. Knowing that the Daily Clout would report on the outcome of that campaign, he not only felt the political pressure, but he also knew he had support from his constituents. So, please, use this unprecedented opportunity to get involved, in any capacity that you can. Your freedom, and that of future generations, hinge on our getting involved and fighting for it. Last but not least, to understand where we are and how we got here, I strongly recommend reading “The End of America.” In the video below, Wolf reads select chapters from the book. You can also download the first and last chapters for free on the publisher’s website, chelseagreen.com.5

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keishins-ukai · 3 years

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I Just Wanna Be Your Favourite Boy

(here’s a link if you prefer reading on ao3)

The amount of alcohol flowing in Kuroo’s veins was not enough to distract him from how pathetic all of this truly was . He was at his first University party, he was surrounded by beautiful people and free alcohol, he should be having the time of his life, right? Tetsurō sat in his friend’s garden with his back resting against the cold brick of the house, his head resting there too. His arms were balanced on his pulled-up knees, his eyes closed.

To any party-goers that ventured outside this would look normal, like the first year partied too hard and passed out super early – it's not like that kind of thing doesn’t happen all the time. Then they’d notice the earbuds still in his ears (though they weren’t playing anything, he just didn’t want to speak to anyone), the dry tear tracks down his cheeks, the ever so slight shaking of his chin. Well, that or the glitter-like sparkle that seemed to be all around the black-haired boy

Tears had become a very common part of Tetsurō’s life recently, a fact he hated with every fibre of his being. Six months ago, you would need the saddest song on earth put in the background of the saddest video on earth and he might have considered crying. Now all it took now was the thought of blond and black hair, golden eyes, mint vodka that smelled like his shampoo…

The stars hadn’t appeared until his first day of university. He had texted Kenma when he’d woken up - Kuroo always texted as soon as he woke up – some dumb chemistry joke he’d found the night before, trying to convey his excitement at finally starting his course. Kenma never usually replied immediately, though this day he did, though Kuroo didn’t actually know why (Kuroo would look back and see it as the first sign. Kenma told him everything)

Kenma had only sent a gif of a cat showing almost complete apathy, but Kuroo’s heart started racing nonetheless, mind spiralling at all of the possible meanings behind the response and never once landing on the real answer (Kenma just woke up earlier than normal). They’d texted a lot of the day, Kuroo only turning his phone off during classes, not wanting to make any bad impressions.

While it obviously hadn’t been the reason, in the following months Kuroo had started to blame turning his phone off as the inciting event as when he turned his phone on he got the notification, the moment that changed everything. It was so small, so seemingly inconsequential.

Instagram: Kodzuken has posted a photo

Kenma’s Instagram consisted mainly of photos from games he was playing, purposely unflattering pictures of himself or animals. But that day was different. He posted a picture of him and Hinata, and the orange-haired boy was positively grinning into the camera, Kenma wasn’t even smiling but Kuroo could tell he was happy, that he was less stressed than he had been for a lot of the summer.

Kuroo knew that what he told himself was unfair, that there simply wasn’t enough data to support the idea of ‘he likes Shōyō more’. But none of that mattered, Kuroo just knew. He didn’t need evidence to prove that Kenma had feelings for the shrimp, the ever so slight dimple was proof enough – even Kuroo had only seen that dimple once, and he wasn’t the one who bought it out.

Crying in the men’s bathroom, as it turns out, is neither very comfortable nor as discreet as one would imagine, though that didn’t matter to Tetsuro as the itching and burning sensation was the only thing he could think about. ‘What the hell is this?’ repeated in his mind as he did his best to stop the small glass-like crystals from falling to the floor and creating even more noise. After spending what felt like an eternity researching what could possibly in all hell be happening to him he moved, hating the quiet twinkling sounds in his pocket.

‘Of course this would happen to me.’ Kuroo would think to himself repeatedly over the next few days ‘Star fucking tears’.

Stars Tears

Caused by intense but unrequited love, always romantic, ‘star tears’ is a rare condition wherein the afflicted will secrete small crystalline shards from their tear ducts, the crystals often being compared to stars which is where the illness got its name. Side effects from stage two ‘star tears’ can include

- Leaking tear ducts

- Dryness of the eyeballs

- Itchiness in the eye area

- Blocked tear ducts

And in some extreme cases

- Partial or complete colour blindness

- Partial or complete sight loss.

As the disease is caused by unrequited love there is no ‘mainstream’ treatment which can cure this, some patients never being cured while others were reportedly healed if the person they loved also loved them back, in a romantic sense.

Even though he was aware of how bad an idea it was, Kuroo remained sat in his friend's garden, though now his earphones were playing something. More specifically he had his ‘Kenma’ playlist on which was playing all of the songs and bands that the shorter boy had ever introduced him to. They were playing at full volume to drown out his own thoughts - the ones nibbling on his mind, making him think of lazy nights playing ‘Majora’s Mask’ with him , of the nights leading up to Christmas making their cinnamon and raisin cookies, of the toothbrush that had been Kuroo’s spare but that he’d stolen because of their frequent sleepovers.

He really didn’t want to cry again, having decided that his new rate of three times a week was far too much, but the stars demanded more still. In the beginning, they would only appear if he’d seen his face, whether it be over skype or as a photo. That had been remarkably easy to handle - Kuroo had just moved all of the photos of him to the ‘hidden’ folder on his phone, and minimise the skype screen when they talked. Easy.

But then Kuroo started to really miss him, started to think of him almost every moment of the day, affecting his sleep and work schedule. That’s when he realised how truly fucked he was. You can’t just pick and choose what parts of friendship you want to participate in and expect it to remain completely intact. Kenma didn’t know what was going on, but he could sense a change, making more of an effort to start their conversations, to not leave Kuroo out of what was going on his life, to make sure that the elder knew that they were still friends.

It was unfair how this made everything worse, that Kenma’s thoughtful inclusions made Kuroo feel more excluded than ever, made him feel both like he had a chance and also made him know that Kenma saw him as his closest friend and that he wouldn’t be more. Kenma had always worried with his crushes that initiating things with them would scare them off, that he would be seen as overbearing. Rather than risking anything, he would just wait until he thought the other would like him back before asking them on a date.

The tears started to increase, them coming at just the thought of Kenma when Kuroo hadn’t got any prevention methods. His most effective was to drown out any other noise with the sound of his own music, even investing in better earphones to ensure that he wouldn’t be hearing any other external noises. However, his playlist choice could definitely be improved upon since every voice, every chord, every bar had the Kenma Kozume seal of approval, making the task of not thinking about the boy almost impossible.

Not even twenty minutes alone and his mind wandered, going to almost every stop in Tetsurō’s brain before stopping at one that made his heart dance. If it were a book the edges would be folded, the spine broke, and some of the pages ripped just from the sheer amount of use.

“Stop looking at my ass!” Kenma had demanded, trying his best to wriggle away from Kuroo “This isn’t for you”. The blond wasn’t looking at him, trying to pretend that his attention was on the syringe in his hand.

“You’re the one who asked me to do this.” Kuroo reminds, reaching over for the injection. “And knowing I was coming over to do this you decided to wear trousers rather than shorts when all I need is your thigh, so…” Their eyes meet and the elder man winks.

Kenma’s face scrunches up in retaliation, fingers lingering for just a moment against Kuroo’s, placing the syringe gently in his hand. “What are you trying to suggest?”

He pretends to think for a second when he wipes a disinfectant wipe on his leg, knowing that he technically didn’t need to but also wanting to be as safe as possible. “That maybe you wanted me to see your ass?”

The youngers face calms into a neutral expression. “Dream on Tetsurō.” Despite being quite scared of needles, he had decided on having testosterone injections rather than pills or any other alternative, finding that needing to do injections more infrequently benefitted him more. He’d also figured that getting someone else to administer the injection would have negated his fear.

Kuroo had agreed, why would it be more difficult for an injection to occur when you’re not the one putting the needle in your skin? The answer; Kenma was a wriggler. He moved back on the bed every time that Tetsurō tried to move closer to him “Come on, kitten.” he chides, the pet name tacked on as a joke.

His only answer is a hiss, a literal fucking hiss, as Kenma tries to move his leg away again, but is caught by the ankle and pressed back down to the bed. Kuroo eventually managed to give Kenma his testosterone, despite the difficulty and found that when he went home there was only one thing on his mind. The hiss.

Most people who met Kenma Kozume thought he was polite, shy and awkward. And he was all of those things, but he was also so much more. He was funny, intuitive, self-assured and weird and Tetsurō loved that so much. As soon as he thought the word ‘love’, everything seemed to make sense. Every look that lasted too long, every thought replaced by one of Kenma, every feeling of longing to be with his best friend.

Tetsurō was in love with his partner in crime. He still is.

Rex Orange County is a band that frequently blasts on Kuroo’s phone, them having many songs that fit the themes of unrequited love so well that he had no choice but to really connect with their music. Though there was one song in particular that is constantly on his mind, the song being called ‘Best Friend’.

At some point in his reminiscing Kuroo had put on the song, immediately pressing the repeat button as he moved his head to stare into the night sky.

But no, it wasn't meant to be and see, I wasn't made for you

And you weren't made for me

When he was younger he’d wanted to be an astronomer, having found the stars and the moon fascinating, but he couldn’t stand the sight of them anymore. His hands were shaking, shoulders shaking, lip shaking. Maybe if he got some closure he could move on and get rid of this disease, finally feel whole again.

Love someone for loving you instead of someone really cool

That makes your heart melt

Tetsurō needed to turn this song off, to stop fucking thinking about him, about the man he had literal scientific proof that he doesn’t love him back, but the pure boost of serotonin he got when he thought about Kenma was worth it. It was worth the pain, it was worth the constantly itchy eyes, it was worth feeling sick to his stomach anytime he sees a twinkle.

Oh, I still wanna be your favourite boy

I wanna be the one that makes your day

The one you think about as you lie awake

He started typing the text before he could stop himself, feeling like he was watching himself make this extremely poor decision but having absolutely no power to stop himself. Even if it wouldn’t make Kenma love him it would be cathartic, right? And as long as he’s vague enough he could preserve their friendship, maybe even claim plausible deniability if necessary. The text read: ‘listening to this and thinking about you’ along with a link to Best Friend.

Kenma’s response was very short, only three words but enough to send his heart into a tailspin, for it to stop completely in its tracks, to make him feel like he’d never breathe again. ‘I’m dating Shōyō’

That night Kuroo lost the golden hue of his eyes.

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A special thanks to @wanderlustsky for beta reading this! it was amazingly helpful <3

#kuroken #haikyū!!#angst #star tears #no happy ending #best friend #rex orange county #haikyuu kuroo #kozume kenma #haikyuu kenma #kuroo tetsuro

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rainebowkitty · 4 years

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Absolutist's Son, Queen's Devotee (Oofy Riddle Fic)

History is often warped over time as ideals change and people evolve. It’s no different for the Queen of Hearts and her legends of villainy. Only in the Twisted Wonderland her story paints her as the heroine, and poor, impressionable Riddle Rosehearts falls victim to the tyranny of not only his oppressive mother, but a boisterously absurd queen as well.

(Basically an angst fic I wrote on a whim about Riddle discovering that his mom and the Queen of Hearts are both villains terrible inspirations to look up to and how that realization literally shatters him. Oh, and for the sake of making sure he can’t deny it, the reader can make anyone relive memories and potentially alter them? by simply touching the person, so guess what kind of stuff he has to relive? I won’t spoil anything, but it’s oofy)

Warnings: Mentionings of beheading

Now! Enjoy my first fic in weeks!

It was nothing but a mirage. It had to be.

Riddle was hyperventilating, his chest heaving up and down in a sporadic pattern as he absorbed the news. His first instinct was to deny it, was to force those thoughts of corruption out with every inch of his small being, with every fiber of magic his shaking form possessed.

But one couldn’t run from a vision, right? Pulling away did nothing as the images you pressed into his mind like a hot coal into his fist still lingered. How did you-? How dare you taint the Queen of Hearts’ legacy with such fallacies. How dare you challenge his mother’s golden rules, the very rules he tried to enforce in order to benefit Heartslabyul as a whole.

What a laughable lie all of your conjurings were. It was the cruelest slap to the face as he pushed you off of him, his shoulders tensing as he backed up, almost hugging himself. But you just reached out once more. And Riddle, his arms crossed over his chest defensively, couldn’t move fast enough to slap your hand away.

“STOP IT!” He screamed. “UNHAND ME!”

But he was quickly lost to his thoughts, a blank expression dawning on him as his eyes stared at nothing in particular, mercury orbs wide in disbelief.

A small, youthful redhead sat on a lonesome bench in a private garden. The boy was awaiting his new instructor’s arrival whenever a small rodent caught his eye. It was the most adorable creature the boy had ever seen. It was a pale cream color, small and petite with little spines poking from its back. Its curious, pink nose scrunched itself up multiple times as it sniffed the ground. It wasn’t long before it was sniffing the young boy’s gloved hand, ultimately deciding whether to name him friend or foe.

After the critter gave the boy a thorough security check, it allowed the redhead to gently pet its head with two fingers. Minutes ticked on until the spiny rodent allowed itself into the boy’s palms, pink nose now smelling a smiling face. Joyous, childlike laughter bubbled from the usually serious boy. It was so free, so pure in its form that you’d mistake him for any old kid with a thing for dressing up perhaps.

But no, this boy was Riddle Rosehearts, son of a famous, stern healer, sharing a moment of joy with a wild woodland hedgehog. The two made quite the duo, both short in stature yet fierce in appearance with either spikes or a menacing glare to keep them safe. Anyone would’ve mistaken the two as friends; boy and boy’s best friend. However, Mrs. Rosehearts wasn’t anyone, and she wouldn’t allow her prestigious son to mingle with vermin such as this primitive hog.

“Riddle, put that rodent down!” She commanded as she approached him. “I’m glad you wore your gloves today. There’s no telling how many diseases that thing has.”

The young boy hastily set the critter back on the grassy ground, the light-furred animal scampering under the bench and behind Riddle’s foot as if the boy was capable of protecting it from the intimidating woman. He couldn’t even bargain with his mother for the chance to have a real strawberry tart on his birthday, let alone secure the life of a defenseless hedgehog.

“Sorry mother,” the boy would’ve muttered had the woman not pounded it into his head to speak clearly if he was going to speak at all. “Where’s my tutor?”

It was an honest question, one he thought was reasonable to ask whenever he was busier than any kid in town. It often felt impossible to remember everything and yet his mother just scoffed at his question as if he should already know the answer.

“We changed locations for your lesson,” she crossed her arms in annoyance. “I believe I told you during yesterday’s tea time, but I had a hunch you’d forget.”

Of course Riddle thought. How could he be so forgetful when she even reminded him?

“Well hurry along now,” she tapped her foot impatiently as Riddle left with thin grace. He was so close to running, to sprinting just so he wouldn’t be any more tardy than he already was, but his mom would chastise him for that. He opted instead for speed walking, a heartfelt apology already forming in his mind to recite to the unlucky tutor. He knew people didn’t like their time being wasted and to do this in his first meeting with this particular teacher was unthinkable. He almost didn’t hear his mother’s last words as he sped off, but unfortunately he was conditioned to tune into her beguiling voice.

“Please be more mindful next time, Riddle,” her tone was more bitter than she liked her tea and it didn’t take much imagination to guess the expression she wore either. “You’re on a strict schedule for a reason. Remember that.”

Then she did something Riddle hadn’t heard her do in a long time. She chuckled.

“If you can remember, that is.”

Riddle picked up his pace without looking back.

“Riddle!”

His mother’s distraught cries rang through the corridors as he dashed down them one by one. He checked each room, his hands clumsily fumbling with the knobs far too long for his liking. He was panting, short huffs of breath rippling through his small form as he tried not to trip over his heeled shoes with each panicked stride.

“Riddle! Please!”

Another shriek. Riddle swore he heard a heavy sound trail his mother’s call, the thick, harsh reverb of it sending shudders through his already shaking body. When would he find her? When would he save her like the dutiful son he was meant to be? She always told him to be on schedule. Was this what she meant? Did her job as a healer leave her with such a tight grasp of time and its passing that she wanted to transmit that trait to her son too? “Son,” his mom wept, a crack in her usually smooth, authoritative tone creaking from her throat somewhere nearby. Riddle stopped dead in his tracks, the satisfying click of his heels dying with his momentum as he strained to hear anything over the throbbing of his own heart. It was silent again before he heard the precise cling of metal. That sound was followed by a burly chopping sound, the greedy blow of an axe striking its target as his mother’s sobs were abruptly cut with a gasp.

Riddle felt the material of his gloves as his clammy hands clenched into fists. He felt an unquenchable fire bubble inside of him, but for the first time in years he couldn’t express it with his voice. Did all that time biting his tongue for his mother really leave him speechless during her death? Was yelling rendered pointless whenever he was so shaken to his core he was unsure his vocal cords would ever function the same way again?

His legs wobbled before his knees buckled, not allowing him to collapse or to take another step further. He was in the middle ground, so close to being able to escape while also being entirely numb. If he should run from whoever murdered his mother, he was left defenseless by shock, fear, guilt and shame. That desire to rescue her was now unachievable, so he surrendered, shutting his eyes tightly and awaiting the worst in his defeat.

Eternal seconds passed as tears trickled down his pale cheeks. Then he felt what he was waiting for; a clap on the shoulder. Wait, a clap on the shoulder? He almost jolted, but his frozen legs and body wouldn’t let him complete the action properly. Instead he almost fell over. He struggled to turn around and catch himself without face planting into the tiles, but he managed it, seeing his mom in perfect health, not a drop of blood in sight of her commanding presence.

He had believed that presence was shattered. He had been so sure that the only parent he was ever devoted to had fallen and he had failed to intervene. He had failed to protect her, he had failed her as her son. And for a moment he was content dying that way by the same husky axe he was convinced someone stained on her flesh, her blood sputtering over an elite uniform well-known and revered across the world as the hope she inspired did nothing to save her in the end. He was ready to die a failing coward who’s magic was advanced for his age but deficient when it truly mattered. He was ready to be beheaded like the Queen of Hearts herself, like he was certain his mom had been.

He was ready for that legacy, not one of crying before his mom as he stuttered out broken apology after broken apology for not reaching her in time, longing for her to tell him sorry for deceiving him in such a harsh manner. To tell him that for once she was the mistaken one. But that moment never came. Only lectures followed as he sobbed for his mommy, a mommy who would never comfort or console him. A mommy who only existed in the depths of his imagination, someone he had to force into his mind to even gain the willpower to sprint down these halls as he searched for that proud, loving figure.

But his actual mom was not that loving figure. There was a reason she chose to test him this way, and there was also a reason behind the oppressive axe as her method of execution. There was a reason he was seconds late to her calculated demise and a reason he thought he had to die the same horrible death. The same death as the Queen of Hearts.

Not her too.

There were flashes of a short figure sitting on a throne; glimpses of a wide, cruel smile as soldier after soldier was sent to the guillotine. Memory after memory cycled of someone royal and absolute going over daily tasks Riddle had grown so accustomed to. Directing people to paint the roses, hosting Unbirthday parties and kicking out the guests unfit to reside at such a refined event. Only this time unruly subjects were given a harsher punishment than simple banishment. They were disposed of to make sure the same mistakes weren’t repeated down the line. But no one was to mourn in the Queen’s court, only obey the current rule set which offered no times for heartbroken liegemen.

For countless years their activities were outlined for them, their stories pre-written until someone new and daring appeared in Wonderland. A fair lady named Alice, always depicted as malicious and mischievous for disregarding the absurd rules of such an exotic queen. However, now the Queen’s destiny was chosen, her agenda hand-picked by those she once ruled. She was the one being dragged to her untimely end by the very subjects who should obey her. Only it wasn’t the Queen’s turn to atone.

It was Riddle’s.

“MAKE IT STOP!” Riddle sounded increasingly desperate as he pushed you away once more. He was about to see himself die like the Queen he so virtuously admired. He would pay for all of her unjust punishments. He was left with his neck stretched across the bloodied plank of the guillotine, a sharpened blade raised high above his head ready to fall and end it all with one swipe. Or maybe it wasn’t sharpened. Maybe they wanted to see him suffer that much. Maybe those peasants wanted to see the Queen suffer that much as she shouted her last command to an audience now deaf to her cries.

Riddle was gasping at the intake of knowledge. The tales always ended with the loyal subjects corrupted by a filthy miscreant named Alice. Why did she resemble you so much in this vision? You weren’t anything like her. You had no intention to harm Riddle or to taint the Queen’s name. So why were your graceful eyes looking upon him with such stinging pity? Why was your touch causing grandeur delusions beyond his control to prance along his brain like bunnies on a time crunch? And why did it all feel so real when the storybooks never lied to him before? Was this dorm, the Queen he held on such a high pedestal, really horrible enough that all it took was someone sweet like you to talk to the lowly peasants and humble nobles to overthrow her? To overthrow Riddle himself?

He swallowed hard as his skull ached, his shoulder blades burning as he backed himself farther into the thick wall behind him. You made no move to touch him, having realized he had seen enough to understand your purpose and the lie he’s been living. Even so, there was so much frantic confusion in each detailed memory that he craved for you to explain.

“Why?” He croaked as he stared you down fearfully. “Why did you show me that?”

“Because you were living a lie,” you spoke soothingly, but it did nothing to ease the panic in his eyes. “You deserve to know the truth about those you look up to.”

“Y-you don’t understand,” his lip trembled. “I’ve made myself to be like them in every way. When I was overwhelmed trying to abide by my mom’s rules, I’d turn to the Queen of Hearts because her rules were simple. I could follow them. I was always right by her standards. But if she was wrong all along and so was my mother then… what does that make me?”

You were unsure of how to respond. It wasn’t your intention to leave the boy’s ideals crumbling with the realization that his top role models weren’t deserving of such an incredible, dedicated follower. You wanted him to see that he didn’t need them anymore, but whenever everything he built his seventeen years of life upon could be linked back to his mother or the Queen of Hearts, you realized telling him might have been more detrimental to his health than anything else. And your silence to his question only further engrained this inferiority into his collapsing psyche.

“I’m just as horrible, aren’t I?” He whispered loathingly.

Once again you were silent.

“ANSWER ME!” He shouted, tiny fists bawled in an attempt to deny their shaking. If only he knew that his entire body was quivering as he seethed, every ounce of showcased hostility suddenly evaporating as he backed into the wall again, almost cowering away as he became aware of his sudden lash out.

The trauma you unveiled, the bittersweet fairytale you wanted to share the true nature of despite Riddle’s solid belief in the tale he’s always been told, it was incomprehensible for someone so faithful. But what were you to do when your idea of showing him the grim reality wasn’t associated with the potential need to reassure such a fragmented boy of his own personal good deeds?

“If you have nothing else to say,” he straightened his posture and hardened his expression, though the anxiety in his frame was still evident. “I’d appreciate it if you left.”

“But-”

“Don’t. Just return to your dorm,” he more so pleaded than commanded. “Please.”

So you left him to his feelings like he asked you to. It was a mercy you stayed quiet if you truly viewed him as suffocating as those he idolized for their severe disciplines and the success that seeped like bitter sap from following such intensive mandates. He didn’t want to know the truth behind your maze-like emotions for him just as he didn’t care to uncover the honest goals of those he strived to imitate when he thought he already knew and lived by them anyway. But if everything he was boiled down to the distorted perception of a nonsensical empress and an imperious, overbearing mother, then what original shards of himself could he rely upon for revision of his old ways? How could he become more than a Queen’s foolish prophet or the successor of an illustrious healer?

Most importantly, where did their wicked influences end and his own sense of identity begin?

If you enjoyed this, maybe I can write more following this realization of Riddle’s? I’ve also been told I write Riddle and his mom’s relationship really well so be prepared for more oofs involving that whole mess I’ll gladly accept headcanons you’d like to see play out between them. I’m here for your angsty needs, by all means ask away

#twisted wonderland #twst #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #queen of hearts #heartslabyul #twst angst #twst fic #fanfic #riddle's mom #miss rosehearts #mrs roseheats #mama rosehearts #second person fic #golly it's been awhile since I posted anything original #but prepare for a double whammy cuz it's kalim's bday!

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killrockabill · 3 years

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azula redemptive

so this isnt a full redemption more of a setting her on the path. azula is a character i kind of identify with. i grew up in a chaotic environment and learned to “play the game” manipulate lie and occasionally throw people under the bus. at first it was just a way to get through life but then it kinda just became who i was. i have gone to counseling etc but still occasionally wonder if my feelings are real or if theyre just what theyre supposed to be. i was lucky to have people in my life. my uncle irohs but she didnt seem to. here it is.

Azula was never the type for brooding, that was more zuzu’s territory. Tonight was different. She was tired. It had been a few years since the avatar ended one hundred year war. she had barely kept track of the actual amount of time. In the time since however; she had not grown complacent. she couldn’t.

Zuzu had become the fire lord and seemed to be decent enough at it. At least he was capable of not destroying the fire nation with incompetence. While they were never close there was a hint of something in her that could almost be considered pride. No. Pride was the wrong word the feeling was more that of acknowledgment. He and the avatar won and that was the end of that story.

For a time azula was unsure of her place in the universe. She had lived her life to be the true heir, to be ozai. He was a wrathful and petty god and she was his disciple.

“ Why was that again?” She pondered. “Well what else could i be? Zuzu?” She knew she was smarter than that.

Zuko was soft and too stupid to play the game, so she used him. Every misstep, every weakness was a way to save herself from being him. Did she ever feel bad about it? Perhaps a long time ago, not that it mattered. You do something long enough you get used to it and when you get good at it you start to enjoy it. Every maneuver, every manipulation was a victory and nobody played the game like her.

“My shadow lord” a shaky voice called from behind. The cult of ozai must have sent him. They had been useful to be sure, but she hated that name. It reminded her of the darkness within her, the same darkness her mother saw.

“Yes?” Azula spoke finally in an exasperated tone. “What is it? i have no use of any of you right now.”

“F-forgive me. I-I have come to warn you.” he stuttered as though he were shaken by the earth itself.

“You? Warn me? I may not be the fire lord anymore, but i am still one of the most powerful firebenders of this generation. What could be coming that I need worry?!” That was a bit more intense than she intended, but anyone who knew her knew it was her default state.

“N-nothing that i'm sure you cannot handle, b-but as your loyal servant it’s my duty. The ozai followers t-they doubt your intentions. They believe you don't intend to restore ozai to power.”

That was a fair thought seeing as she had no intention of restoring ozai to power. She had used them to challenge zuko and make him grow into the strong leader the fire nation needed. He was soft on enemies, azula being a perfect example, and not wary of friends that could turn on him as they do.

“Hmph, well I suppose i owe you thanks. Tonight you will leave and discard any sign of joining the movement. Live a life well or not it doesn't matter to me” she hated being in debt to someone. Azula could manage some over privileged fanatics, but knowing she’ll have to get her hands a bit dirty is nice.

“M-my lady i-i-i apologize i meant no offense. please i-“

Azula cut him off. “ you misunderstand. Tonight there’s going to be a … discussion, between the rest of the group. Take this and go do whatever it is you people do.” She flipped a gold piece. She couldn't be bothered to remember if he was one of the wealthy members and what's one gold piece. It was his duty to her to report and that should be rewarded. Flies and honey; perhaps if she did that back then those two. NO we are not going there azula scolded herself. Focus.

The man was still sitting there mouth agape like a fool. Was he processing what just happened? Regretting exposing his comrades? If he betrays her and lets them know she's coming she will live up to the darkness that earned her the title shadow lord.

“I don’t know what you are waiting for, but go. I have an appointment.” Azula walked past him. Ordinarily any threat of a stanger betraying her and leading her to a trap would be subdued by their fear of her. Azula learned that was not a guarantee the hard way. Her shoulder aches like an old woman from ty lee’s strike. That wasn’t what azula had heard about chi blocking, but maybe this hit was deeper.

“FOCUS” azula chided herself “her of all people. Yes, I did use fear to keep them in line but I was good to her. I tried at least. There weren’t many who’s tears could get to me. Fuck, enough. You need to deal with these fools”

Azula had reached the door to where the cult of ozai held their meeting. A Modest wooded shack near where Azula was. It benefited them to be out of the way and not get attention. Azula paused and thought “alright put on the scary eyes” before making her entrance. You could hear the conversation screech to a halt.

“My lady! Welcome, what brings you? New plans rid us of your brother?” One finally broke the silence. The fool that was their leader before azula had seized control.

The gaul to pretend like they werent just talking about turning on her. Did they know who they were dealing with? She was no longer princess azula daughter of ozai; she was the god now.

“Its come to my attention that some of us feel breaking my father, ozai out of prison. Let me clear ozai was a fool who bit off more than he could chew trying to conquer the world. He’s weak now spoiled by everyone's fear of him he lost to a child.”

“You speak out of turn little girl. You wouldn’t be so brave as to say that in his presence!” One of them burst out.

“Ah, yes the withered old man that has been in shackles for how many years?” Azula genuinely could not remember anymore. “I am a prodigy trained by the finest benders this nation has to offer. The bender that conquered ba sing se. Even with his bending he lost to an avatar that I beat. “

Azula wasn’t bragging. This was the fight. Subduing them without having to lift a finger. What happens when azula needs to lift a finger? Well, let's say azula would oblige in earnest. She could tell most of them had already seemed to understand. Any of them try something it’ll end one way. She’d won the fight before they could even try; perhaps she should write a book azula mused. “Azulas art of war”.

The only one not to flinch was their leader. His smile from when he greeted her did not waiver. He must have something in mind, as he would have no way of defeating her in single combat.

“My princess, perhaps you’re right there is something unclear about our partnership.” He started, as calm as can be. “ you are a talented bender to be sure, but without your father’s backing you’re simply an unstable little girl. Your usefulness is only in name and furthering our reputation.”

Usefulness? This commoner did not just reference her as a prop in their machinations. This was when azula began to get heated, literally. Around her the air began to warm until the air around her blurred like that of the air around an open flame. The room had become unbearably hot for the others, but azula the dragon she was, could handle much more.

Azula let out a sigh. “Unstable?!? Lets be clear you work for me! Not the other way around. I have seen and done more in life let alone for the fire nation than you will in what is about to become a shortened life!”

Parts of azula began to catch fire as her rage seethed. Zuzu may have been a lame turtle duck of a brother, but he did show her the usefulness of adapting different bending styles. The fire on her crawled across her body into a sphere in her hands. Though the leader had prepared for a direct strike; azula had something else prepared. She slammed her hand on the floor and allowed the fire ball to be pressed on the ground exploding out in a circle around her.

The cabin had caught fire and many of the cultists were sent flying into the walls and scattered like the insects they were. Azula had practiced that move for some time and understood why strong earth benders would use an impact like strike like that. It was an effective way to combine offence and defense, and not to mention oddly satisfying.

Azula may have been willing to kill if necessary but leaving them broken was the better choice. She snuffed out the fire leaving the smoke cloud to cover her exit. That should be a clear message to anyone. Princess azula is done.

Fire lord zuko did not need his shadow lord anymore. Azula hated to admit zuko had become a passable fire lord. The land prospered, and while zuko is about peace hes is firmer on asserting influence in world. The fire nation is still a force to be reckoned with and she was as influential in it as the avatar or that slob of an uncle. There wasn’t much to do here. Azula wasnt sure what the next move was, but there were things that needed to be drawn before action could be taken.

The palace at the fire nation capital. It was much like she remembered less a gaudy statue of her father. The way the paths lead by lantern fire flowed like a living flame. It was soft enough to have a cozy warmth like that of the hearth. If she missed anything the most of the old princess lifebit was how home loosened tension. This unfortunately was not a vacation.

Her brother liked to sit near the water where the woman and him sat. Only two kyoshi to guard him, I suppose if azula was an average attacker that would do. Azula could already feel the exhaustion this is going to come from this

She waited seated at the spot he typically stops at.

“AZULA” ah that raspy broody voice is never, not funny. He growls like a cub caught without a mother. “What are you doing here?! Trying to cause more trouble for me to clean up? Trying to take the throne?

“Oh zuzu all I’m doing is sitting here. Come I wish to speak to you, as civilly as possible. I’ll even allow one of your fangirls chi block my arms.

A laugh broke the tension “that's even funnier the second time around azula” that cheery pitch could only be one person. Azula perked up in her seat.

“Ty lee, im glad you’re here too. Wait that sounded ominous. I mean the sight of you is pleasant.” Not exactly how she thought things would go they were supposed to be separate. “Well that’s best anyway it’d make the noodle arm treatment feel less awkward when it’s someone you know.”

“Hey that makes this easy” with two jabs azulas arms and therefore lightning wre off the table. “I just want you to know. I am still scared of you, but that fear makes me want to stop it.”

“Ah-um ty lee… i don’t expect you to and ill understand if you say no but i'd like to speak with you after.” Azulas voice was gentle when it reached ty lee.

Ty lee paused to glance back. She was shaken at the thought. Of course she would be what else should she be? Happy? She said it herself she was scared of azula and you cant have friends with that or they betray you.

“Lets try this one first.”

Azula was impressed at how ty lee could not only give a non answer and still leave someone hopeful. After the war, thinking through things during training sessions, azula had a new perspective on ty lee. Azula never doubted her prowess for a second, but being such a skilled people reader and least suspect of manipulation. She was everything azula was not and then some. Where azula scanned for weakness ty lee scanned the person. Where azula would use fear to bend to her will ty lee was playing the long game with positive reinforcement. Azula needed her to know that and more.

“There.” Zuko barked. “Now state your business.”

“Zuzu, you’re not meant for impressions, that was the worst ‘father’ i've ever heard. I'm leaving the capital and maybe even the fire nation. “

“Why?” Zuko was confused, what would be her next move. other nations aren’t helpless and its not like Zuko would leave them to her.

“What is there for me here? Zuko, youre the fire lord ive made my peace with that. You were too soft when you first got the throne, and while not all of my actions were always so benevolent; after a while it was about keeping you on alert dealing with the changing world. Making sure you had fangs. Father, ozai, had beat you to submission for so long and only at the end of the war did you begin standing.

“You think you were helping me? Training me in some insane way?!” Azula knew he’d be this way.

“Heavy lies the crown on the head of the ruler zuko. I should know i had it for a couple hours and lost my mind.” Azula chuckled at the memory. A foolish child who had nobody left to manipulate and nobody she trusted, of course shed crack. “You don't have to believe me. Im not sure I believe me. If i couldn't be the fire lord, I'd help mold him, I thought. You're still too soft with other nations in my opinion but you can manage. You’ve proven that.”

“And why tell me instead of just going?” Zuko had began to calm down, perhaps the avatar was rubbing off on him.

“The very reason i had to have my arms chi blocked. You fear me. Sure, you could fend me off with your friends but you know i am not something you would want to face. Now you know you dont have to look over your shoulder, at least not for me.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Zuko lowered his tone. If azula were plotting it could’ve worked here.

“No. I expect the next few weeks you’ll be on high alert. You’ll be upping security in cities and in constant communication with smaller settlements. Most importantly, you will be training. You Want to know that if we cross blazes, you will win. That is why i am leaving that response to an unseen threat? Exactly as a fire lord should be.” He won't look at it practically, at this point what is there for azula to be here. the only reason to keep this up is to take that throne, the one that broke her, it may be rightfully hers but she was not rightfully its. It was owed to her but she was not owed to it.

“Listen zuko, we’ve both seen ozai for what he is. The man who needed his teenage daughter to take ba sing se because he never could. The shortest reigning fire lord who faced an avatar that had only one year of training on the day he was at his peak. He called you a loser, and always asserted dominance because that was the only way to get people to not see the pathetic incompetent man with good enough luck to have me. Looking at you now he missed an opportunity at a useful tool.”

“People aren’t tools azula.” The father talk began to itch at zukos emotional scabs.

“That was the way of the house, and you never learned that. You were too blind or stupid to think ‘whats the right answer’. That is why i was favored. Not luck, i played the game. Not unlike my friend ty lee, there did with me. She saw me.” It appears that azula had some scabs still too. She felt like her skin was raw and each word was hard to spit out.

“It doesnt matter” she took a breath “it would shame the fire nation anyway having to change leaders every few years. Just take my words and do what you will with them.” Azula was done, this had already been more a spectacle than she cared for.

“Ok, now what you stroll out the front door? We should take you in. That’d interrupt your trip. What now?”

“Oh zuzu, you are so on guard still. Good. I’ve an exit lined up out if the way so nobody questions my presence. If you take me in? Why? So i can escape THEN leave? Just extra steps. I dont mind waiting however. I think we both got something from this conversation.”

The air was warm. Unseasonably warm, its him. Azula wondered if this was coincidence or if he made hes own version of her technique. Now azula was tense. Impressive brother, but these are your options.

Finally, a high pitched intervention. “Uhum, fire lord zuko she also wanted to have a talk with me too. Maybe while you think about what to do with her I can see what she wants to say.”

“Are you sure? If she tries something.” Big brother of the year hm. Hopefully mai watches her back azula mused.

“Zuko im a big girl. Plus you’ll be in holler distance. Just keep an eye out.” Ty lee turned to azula. “Im going to sit next to you now, and if you try to bend at me or kick me i will be very upset.” There it was. Azula looked in awe at how she managed to channel a determined child while making it clear there will be consequences for any transgressions. Azula truly was a fool like her father before her, failing to see what’s right in front of her.

“Hi azula. You wanted to talk?” She tried to keep the pep but ty lee couldn’t help but be nervous. Azula was one Of the most dangerous people in the fire nation.

“I did. Thank you. Even though you know there’s a chance i could actually be up to something leading to you or something or someone you care about because all youve ever seen from me is wrath. So, thank you.”

“Ppft, im sorry azula I really am and you’re right i wasnt sure but that awkward rambling reminded me of that day at the beach.”

“ARE YOU MOCKING ME?! I came here and let you chi block me. Do yoy you know what this feels like? Limp noodles where my arms should be.”

“No, no, azula i swear it just shows there's still some of the good in you. Your aura is less vlack more a...deep watertribe navy blue. Theres also the temper still i see” ty lee tried not to give azula a reason to get heated.

“Oh. I see. Well regardless of the context tgat was rude”

“Yes it was, sorry.” She gave azula the eyes that always got to her.

“Its fine. I may have also been a tiny bit intense there.” Azula hated this. She was a prodigy. Which meant apologies and social interaction were unnecessary.

“Ok. Lets try again. ‘Now state your business’” imitating zukos growl of a voice. It got a genuine laugh iut of azula. It had been a while since she laughed at all.

“How do you do that? Just lull people into a state of placation and lowering their guards.” Azula regrouped.

“Its not a trick like you said. Well, mostly not. I do watch people and learn what i can, but its so i dont do anything to start upsetting people. And the rest is just i have a calming aura”

“So you’re just a pure sweet roll in this terrible world?” Azula was proud. She made a quip that didnt sound threatening. That practice wasnt for nothing at least.

“I dont know about that. All I do know is that if we try the world doesn’t have to be terrible. You’ve changed azula. I can see it. Not just your aura either. You meant at least half of what you said i can feel it.”

“Half? That's more generous than i would be in your shoes. I appreciate that and would love to girl talk i think time’s coming so ill jump to it. I want you to know the same as zuzu. I dont have plans for revenge for the prison. I also wanted to say… im sorry. You may have noticed my opinion of my father has changed and as his heir, his duplicate its making me think i need to redefine me. Clearly our way didnt work. I held you and mai by a leash and when it came down to it who do you side with the leash wearer or holder. I’m sorry it happened that way and what it’s probably done since, but there it is.

Ty lee remained silent.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me or even believe me. I just thought, you of all people deserved that much even from a monster like me.” The silence coming from ty lee was worse than any words she could have said. Each second of waiting for any kind of reply was tourture. Ty lee was never the silent type, so as expected she probably won’t accept it. That's fine azula didnt need her to; she didn’t need her or anyone for that matter. Beasts dont always have packs, especially the most vicious ones.

Ty lee stood up and took a few paces. Azula watched and simply thought ‘there she goes. She may be giving azula an out as a courtesy, ehich is more than she expected.

“You're not a monster.” Ty lee's silence finally broke. Her tone was quiet and somber.

“Youre not a good person. Youre Probably one of the worst friends I’ve had, but we were friends. I dont know how much to believe you, but you’ve apologized for hurting my feelings before in more casual moments. The time away may be good for you. I tell you what, I’ll accept your apology for the both of us. I’ll know i gave you one last shred of trust and if how things ended truly bothered you it can stop now.”

Azula was stunned. She shouldn’t have been. That reaction was as textbook as azula threatening a subordinate. Azula should be a little more at peace now, but she isnt. It hurts. Here was a kind strong woman who managed to make something of herself and azula was nothing anymore. A vagrant who couldn’t do what she was raised to do for a few hours. Kindness and compassion were underused thongs for azula but clearly they’re good for something.

“Ty lee” azula choked on the words. How pathetic. How embarrassing. On the verge of tears because she was not a monster to ty lee.

“ thank you ty lee. I didnt and still don’t deserve your friendship, but i think you did something to me. I dont know what, but something. You may go if you wish. I think i want to wait and see what zuko has to say”

“I’ll put in a good word for you. You called him ‘zuko’ most of the time you talked to him. You're a bit confusing right now but I think that might be a good thing.”

“Ha, oh ty lee you have too much faith in people. I could still be the monster in your closet. Don't ever change that.” Azula needed everything in her to not cry, not in front of them. Not again. Never again

Ty lee turned back to face azula. “And you have too little faith. That's ok though, i may not need to change but I really hope you are.” She smile md at azula. It was a soft smile like the glow of a candle in the night and just as warm. How she could manage a real smile towards azula was beyond her. It was beautiful and it had a way of crushing azula.

Ty lee was gone. Not far, as zuko still had to be in the garden somewhere. Azula was glad for that she could breath and focus on the next hurdle. Getting out with noodle arms would be difficult but not impossible. They were so put at ease about the arms they didnt think of any attacks she could do with her legs. If it came down to it she would set enough of a blaze to keep them occupied and run to her escape location.

Zuko and the others returned. He had a stoney look on his face more grim than broody. Azula cant be surprised its bad news, but it was less than ideal. Ty lee stood next to him. Had she kept her word and gave her a chance? Or was that just to encourage me to stay. She had been bitten once and was twice as shy nowadays.

“Ty lee mentioned your talk went well. Im glad you didnt try to kick or bite her.”

“Zuzu, what do you take me for a platypus bear or something?”

“Or something” zuko remarked. It was a fair enough jab azula decided.

“She told me you seem lost in the world. If this is true, we can help. Theres the beach house so you dont have to interact with people unless you want to. We can get you treated like someone in our family should be. You can help us do good for a change.”

“Where do you people get this faith?! I do not intend on being a ward or high end prisoner. I do not belong here, and cannot promise you I’ll be what you want. For all we know i'll turn on you like i have a dozen times over.” Azula could not tell if he really was that foolish or if she should be offended at the patronizing proposition. “No, if im to become something, someone, else it has to be away from here.

Zuko stood silent for a moment. “Very well, but i want you to know that any action against a fire nation citizen is an action on me. the way you and i have been going for years seems to only have one end so i hope you mean all of this. You may go on the condition a kyoshi warrior shadows you for a while.”

“The ones in the elaborate dresses, white, make up and golden fans? Im sure theyll be like a shadow in the night. Though I suppose it could be worse. If i get left alone they will be left alone, just so we’re clear.” Azula hated being followed, but if its just for a while she can put up with it.

“They’ll watch and see if you're just up to old tricks. You'll get a head start and they'll catch up so you won't be sure they are present. If they determine youre no longer a threat they will leave you.”

“Interesting proposal Zuko spoken like a benevolent leader. I accept.” Azula stood up, and was a little off balance because of the arms but they began to come back to her. “I… suppose that's it then brother. I’ll do you a favor and make it so my way in cannot be used again. We may not see eachother again, so farewell. remember, you are the dragon not some toothless herbivore. Dont embarrass us.” There was an awkward melancholy to azulas voice. They were never siblings in the traditional sense and she did try to kill him. A lot. Still, it’ll be sad to not get under his skin anymore even just a little.

“Goodbye azula. I hope you find whatever you’re looking for. If all of this is true my offer will stand.”

Azula had nothing to say. She couldn’t. She fully intends to be gone, and yet he leaves the door open? It’s embarrassing, its offensive, and somehow its cruel. Azula living the rest of her days in a place designed to make her complacent? No. She may not want the throne but she will not be a pet.”

Azula nodded and walked away. He was as good a brother as you could get in this family and she was as bad a sister as you could get in this family. That bridge is burned whether he realizes or not.

Now all that was left for azula was to decide where to go. That entire exchange left her raw and exhausted. Zuko may have had a point, the beach wasn’t far and a small coma would be nice. A stop off there get some nation neutral clothes and see where the wind take her. It was as good a plan as any for now.

When she finally reached the shore and looked up the stairs to the childhood beach house the exhaustion set in. How long had it been since she slept? More than 24 hours to be sure. Azula dropped to her knees and felt the sand beneath her. Soft, like ty lee's smile.

“No.” Azula dismissed. Now was not the time to reminisce. This sand was once a rock. It could have been a rock that punctured war ships sinking them to their doom, or a smaller rock cutting the food of an unwitting beach goers foot. Azula was that rock. Was she being worn down into sand? Was that ok? Everything in this world wears down, so why not her? If she could be half of what this sand was, pleasant soft and comforting perhaps that wouldn't be so bad.

#avatar #avatar the last airbender #atla azula #atla #atla fanfic #ty lee x azula #azula avatar #princess azula #prince zuko #azula and zuko #atla zuko #fire lord zuko #ty lee #ty lee atla #fan fiction #fanfic

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fxbrokersempire · 3 years

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What Are Realistic Goals For Forex & CFD Traders?

What Does It Take To Be A Good Forex Trader?

Having goals and direction are an important part of achieving success in anything from life, forex trading is no exception. However, goals can be difficult to set because people usually set them way too high, way over the top of what’s realistically achievable and in an acceptable amount of time. For example, having the goal of ‘becoming a full-time trader’ isn't going to do you any good if you don’t know HOW to trade the markets properly. Whilst it’s good to have big long term goals, you will not achieve them if you don’t break them down into the shorter term, having more realistically achievable goals. Doing this will keep you much more motivated and focused whilst also keeping you progressive towards your longer term goals.

Most forex traders get lost, in setting the bar way too high right from the start and then getting discouraged six months or even a few days later when they have nothing to show for it. This happens because they aren’t being realistic with their goals. Let’s discuss some realistic forex trading goals you should have so that you can stay focused, motivated and on track to your targets.

Learn How To Trade Properly, Limit Expectations

Whilst I appreciate that not everyone is a beginner trader, this first point applies to those who are just starting out in learning the trading craft.

The first goal you should have is to trade your account to learn, not to make money. Learn as much as you can so that you don’t lose all your money, leading to faster and longer term success.

This doesn’t apply to everyone of course. However, if you’re a novice trader who is just starting out, it would be wise to not expect to make a lot of money or an ‘income’ from trading straight away. The early years are your training period, your pursuit of education as well as screen time in order for you to gain some experience. This will probably result in you breaking even or even a minimal loss if you are trading a small account.

So the lesson here is, as a beginner trader, a realistic goal is to trade your account as a learning exercise and not just for the intent of making a profit. Just as with any other profession, be it sports, business or anything else, you can’t expect to walk out, learn a bit and become a professional overnight. Learn more about learning how to trade in 5 trading lessons.

Don’t Aim Foe A Monthly Income Right Away

Once you’ve done some study and practiced trading for a while, you should start feeling more comfortable to start increasing your risk per trade, whether this means a transition from demo to live, or moving from risking $1 to $100 per trade, your objective should not be to make a ‘full time income’, let me explain why:

Most people will start trading with an account under $10,000. To put this into perspective, you’d have to make a 500% return on that account per year to make a decent living. Having a realistic goal would be trading slow and steady gains; hitting ‘singles’ and ‘doubles’ to build up your account. A 50% to 100% return per year would be a realistic return if you’re hitting the numbers right. The aim is to make a profit but not to ‘make a living’ just yet, so don’t get carried away by thinking you’re going to print money like a job or seasoned trader.

The reason why you should not aim to make a living is pretty obvious…you simply don’t have the money or the skills yet. As I explained above, you can’t 'make a living' on a small account over the long term, but you can and should try to build it up. The trading mindset that you need to build up a small account successfully is going to be impossible to achieve and maintain if all you’re thinking about is hitting massive return trades every time and ‘getting rich’ quick. You will over-trade, over-leverage your account and likely blow it out; which is obviously the complete opposite of what you really want.

Aim To Be A Part Time Forex Trader

As mentioned above, most people can’t and won’t achieve the status of full-time trader in the early part of their career. So, a great goal is to focus on becoming a part-time trader and earning a nice profit while still maintaining your day-to-day income. There are many benefits to this trading strategy. Remember, the last thing you want to do is get hooked in to the market, it can easily destroy your life just like it does to gamblers. Learn to be patient and set limits to keep trading both enjoyable and profitable.

Be As Good A Trader As You Can

Whether you’re a beginner or a seasoned forex trader, you should have a goal of putting your focus on the processes and strategies of forex trading and becoming a good trader, not necessarily on your account balance. This goal is more applicable to your subconscious and psychological mindset, because you literally have to train yourself to be focused on every trade setup, the price action and the overall chart picture, as opposed to the money and profits that so many traders become fixated on.

As discussed in the article ‘Focus on the trading, not the money’, a trader should focus on the actual processes of trading, not on profit and rewards. The main reason for this is that the only way you can become a profitable trader is by becoming a skilled trader, and you can't do that if you’re too worried about ‘making money’ or even loosing money, because you’ll become way to emotional.

Watch The Market More Than You Trade It

Another realistic goal you should have is to stay out of the market as much as possible and only trade those trade setups that will yield high probability results. Measure your risk exposure better. As your goal, you should stay away from the market when there’s nothing going on and observe much more than you trade. Targeting trades and setups is much more progressive and profitable than being over exposed all of the time.

The main idea here is that most traders lose money because they over-trade; they are simply in the market too much. This causes them to both lose money because they are entering bad trades which in turn makes them far too emotional as a result. Essentially starting a rollercoaster effect of bad trading habits which you obviously need to avoid. It takes discipline and patience to sit out of the market the majority of the time and only enter when your trading edge is truly present. This is the only path to making money consistently as a trader, there are no short cuts unless you are a gambler.

Stay Away From Social Trading Forums

You may be part of a forex trading group or trying to get trading ideas by looking at people commenting on sites like investing.com or reddit. My advice is to stay well away from this as it will serve no positive purpose to your trading goals whatsoever. In fact it will create a completely different mindset for you and your trading strategy which will confuse you and drive you crazy. These social platforms serve no real purpose to giving you winning ideas. The small number of traders that actually make money in the markets are not those who follow other peoples trade setups. Learn how to do your own analysis and discipline yourself to follow your trade setups strictly.

Make Trading Your Passion, Live It & Breathe It

Over my almost 13 years of trading, and training a good few thousand students, it’s clear that the people that make money don’t only think about the money or ‘profits and rewards’ nearly half as much as those who don’t make money. The ones who make money are those who love trading, are passionate about it and want to be the best trader they can possibly be. Just like a professional tennis player, whilst the money may be a driver initially, those tennis players have to love their chosen craft, and to stay in the game over a long period and excel at it, they have to have passion & drive. Therefore, your final goal is to not only want to be a trader, but to be honest with yourself and either find a passion for trading or cut it loose and move on, because I can promise you if you don’t love, live and breathe trading (not the money) you won’t succeed.

and last but certainly not least...

Trade Only With A Regulated Broker That's Trusted

Finding a forex broker that you can trust is no easy thing. As someone that has years of experience in this industry it is paramount that you trade with a broker that wants you to succeed and will not play with your invested money.

The best forex brokers to trade with are often ones that come with a recommendation and have been used and researched. Take a look at the fully regulated brokers that we recommend. Choose a broker that suits your countries financial regulator in order to trade safely and have a level of account protection. See below:

FCA Regulated Brokers - UK's Top Forex Brokers

CYSEC Regulated Brokers - Europe's Top Forex Brokers

ASIC Regulated Brokers - Asia & Australia's Top Forex Brokers

Trading with forex brokers that are not reputable can lead to major losses of funds and are fraught with scams. Please make sure you use a broker from our registered site using top reputable regulated forex brokers in the industry.

#how to trade forex #trading tips #investing tips #forex tips

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

Note

Hi! Hope you're doing well~! I was happy to see that you like Shingen and The Mitsus- I kinda called it, haha! However I'm wondering if you guys are also familiar with/had an opinion on Edgar Bright from IkeRev because I feel like he fits your character type too? I literally downloaded the game for him because I never pass on #PrettyBoyAngst~

Hiya friend!! Tysm I’m good, I hope you’re doing well, too! :D Haha, they are indeed my favorites! You guessed right! Long live Shingen (too soon? too soon...) and the Mitsus!!

Quick warning, I know the game has been out for a while but spoilers for Edgar rt below!!!!

I have indeed played IkeRev, and you are spot on!! My top three bias list from that game is Lance, Edgar, and Fenrir! (surprising no one lmao) I can’t make a cup of hot cocoa anymore without hearing in my head “AND YOU JUST HAVE TO TELL THEM EVERYTHING’S FINE BUT IT’S NOT FINE AND NO ONE WILL EVER UNDERSTA--” Edgar’s route just sincerely hits different. Like holy actual shit yo, boy smuggles us candy all I want to do is give him some sugar, c’mon IkeRev ;-; (CLAUDIUS IF I SEE YOUR MUSTY ASS IT’S ON SIGHT, ON SIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DON’T FUCKING TEST ME YOU MONOPOLY GUY BITCH ASS--)

Honestly, Edgar is what we all wish ATLA Azula could have had. Yeah he was raised in a rotten environment and did what he had to do to survive, but the guy sincerely didn’t enjoy what he was coerced into doing ;-; and there was never anybody there to protect him. I cry whenever I start thinking about how he saw Zero in sincere need of guidance and affection, and went over to him without a second thought. (Granted, one could argue that Edgar benefited from Zero’s clear inability to fit in, but I really don’t see it that way. Edgar had no obligation to help him out, and very little incentive beyond a desire for mutual friendship. Despite their differences in status and/or capacity, Edgar treats Zero with no shortage of respect and consideration--he just teases him a lot LMFAO) Even when they bicker (IT’S ALMOST LIKE COMTE AND JEANNE AHAAHAHAHH I’M WHEEZING) it’s abundantly clear that neither of them have an ounce of real ill will directed at each other.

I guess that’s also a sizable point of what I love about him. Against all odds, against everything he was taught and raised to do, he still chooses love. He doesn’t like hurting people, he doesn’t find any pleasure in the power plays/impositions that his uncle lives for. He just likes making people smile and laugh, he just wants to live normally like anybody else--his smarts and his skills be damned. At his core, he was a kid that was raised to be a monster, but even Claudius couldn’t beat the humanity out of him. There is...an utterly heartbreaking, but also profoundly moving aspect to that kind of tension.

(Now that I write it, it reminds me a lot of Comte and Leonardo. They were both expected to take their place in the hierarchy of vampire/human society, but they both reject it so vehemently. They don’t see human beings as pawns, they don’t see them as playthings or even sources of nourishment. They acknowledge what they are, but they want to treat people with as much dignity and compassion as they can regardless. In the ageless words of Iroh, “Perfection and power are overrated. I think you were very wise to choose happiness and love.” While they may have been able to understand all of this on an instinctive level, they actively chose it over every motivation/coercion they were offered to be cruel and unfeeling. They bear their scars for choosing what’s important to them, just as Edgar does. It is a unique but debilitating pain that comes with being unanimously rejected by your community because you choose to deny the expectations of your upbringing and social status, especially when the standards that were imposed on you were glaringly immoral to begin with.)

And the thing that kills me the most is that Edgar just. Has always done this, has always chosen what’s right as much as he was able no matter how painfully thankless--if not actively harmful to his well-being--these choices were. So when MC takes notice, when she makes a conscious effort to return that mindfulness, he’s floored. It literally changes the landscape of his mind, he goes into a god damn crisis to be able to process what just happened. Imagine being so desensitized to positive attention that you have a trauma response in trying to deal with direct, unfettered goodwill. And don’t even get me started on that desperate moment where he just loses every ounce of calm when MC briefly loses faith in him/wavers. I don’t even remember the exact words exchanged I just remember the sheer devastation in the wake of that scene, the way I cried. There are no words for how much I love him and how little that man has been allowed to live. (AND LANCE SUPPORTING MY BOY!!!!!!!!! SCREAMING AND CRYING AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA)

Also. Idk if you've seen the “my desires are unconventional” Edgar memes but the ducky and roller coaster ones just SEND me, it was literally the reason I decided to do his route and I regret NOTHING 😂😂😂

And the Creeks!!!! The Creek family!!!! I sob!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So pure!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Though now that you mention it there are a lot of elements in Edgar’s rt that align with Leonardo/Comte rt, feeling exposed 😂😂😂. I guess between them and Shingen/the Mitsus, one thing that I find really, really attractive is this notion of being kind to people with a deeply compassionate motivation. It’s not enough to say nice things, it’s the fact that they do care about the people they’re paying attention to, and seek to de-escalate conflict (whether internalized or externalized) as much as they can before it reaches an explosive point. They’re good to people with very little--if anything--to be gained in return, and they know what’s worth being grateful for in life. There is a breadth of altruism that is simply unmatched by some of the other suitors, a maturity that just draws me in like the proverbial moth to the flame; I fall head over heels in milliseconds.

I do this a lot in real life but they are what I like to call “ninja nice”. They are schemin’ bois but the scheme is wanting to make you smile!!!! And it’s so god damn wholesome ;-; it never fails to make me laugh

I’m also deeply interested in this idea of “love at play.” It’s apparently a pretty common literary device/premise, but I wasn’t made fully aware of it until recently. The implication is that relationships are not only built on mutual feelings of affection, but also on a kind of language that people develop together; they find ways by which they comfortably tease, or poke fun, or just enjoy the same things and joke around while doing it. It may seem pretty intuitive to some, but for me this was a very new concept--I’ve never really seen it done before. And yet, I can see for myself that I tend to seek it out a lot without even knowing, and I think it’s a beautiful and crucial thing for people to share. It really makes me so happy to see :D <33333

So yeah, this is a house where we love and cherish Edgar Bright!!! I got a little side-tracked, but I hope I’ve answered your questions! Oh yeah, and as a note my wife also does love Edgar as well, we tend to share biases LMAO (Never on purpose, we always just watch/play the same stuff and come back like “THIS ONE!!!!!!!! YOU TOO!?!!?!? FLKHJAHGKHDLKJ”)

#asks #ikemen revolution #ikerev #edgar bright #ikerev edgar #ikerev spoilers #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp leonardo #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen shingen #ikesen mitsunari #ikesen mitsuhide #i find it really sweet that yall are interested in my taste in ikemens and im happy to tell yall anything you'd like to know!#but yes friend!!! you are correct!!! i cant offer a cookie irl but know that my virtual cookies are offered for ur excellent deduction uwu #and lord PrettyBoyAngst is abt 99% of my experience playing otomes i swear LMAO #god now I'm just having cxm Shiraishi flashbacks and i hate everything AND THE WORDS OF THE PROPHETS ARE WRITTEN ON THE SUBW--#anywho im just an absolute sucker for the whole hurt/comfort dynamic #yes i want to love an angsty boy but if you dont let me comfort him IM GETTING MY GLOCK #HAVENT THEY SUFFERED ENOUGH.#im a simple woman i see an emotionally exhausted man that keeps trying to smile and i want to hold him until he starts to cry #in pure cathartic relief #this is my goal in life #(can also be emotionally repressed i accept all kinds in this house)#rambles

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nonsensicalobsessions · 4 years

Text

A Symphony without Strings, Coda

Author’s Note:

In music, a coda is a passage that brings a piece (or a movement) to an end.

Charles Burkhart suggests that the reason codas are common, even necessary, is that, in the climax of the main body of a piece, a "particularly effortful passage", often an expanded phrase, is often created by "working an idea through to its structural conclusions" and that, after all this momentum is created, a coda is required to "look back" on the main body, allow listeners to "take it all in", and "create a sense of balance."

(Charles Burkhart is an American musicologist, theorist, composer, and pianist. He holds the title of Professor Emeritus in the Aaron Copland School of Music, Queens College, and the Graduate Center, City University of New York.)

The above has been lifted shamelessly, word for word, from Wikipedia. It explains succinctly and gives authenticity to my decision to not give this last* view into Merry and Tom’s life as an epilogue.

I thank every one of you for reading, commenting, reblogging, and privately reaching out to me, letting me know how this idea of mine connected with you. Saying “thank you” is so inadequate, but it is all that I have...

Thank you-- NonsensicalObsessions.

You know the musical drill by now.

Trigger warning: Leukemia

Selection the First: https://youtu.be/6n5YH1Y0rHE OR https://open.spotify.com/track/4iFjfJGjqh6ixgy6vFCjAk?si=3p7hx-6jTeq7vKiA4PHZaQ

Merry celebrated the first official anniversary of her remission by finally giving in to Tom’s quiet but persistent pleas to marry him:

“Tom, you know I love you, and that’s never going to change. I’ve added your name to Liam’s birth certificate, you are legally his father. He is now William Thomas Skye Hiddleston. Why does this mean so much to you?”

“Why do you keep refusing me?” Tom countered, as they walked hand in hand, following Liam who still wanted to feed the ducks, although he had grown so much he was no longer as concerned if they were greedy.

“Because I don’t understand! You have me. You have Liam. What difference does it make?”

“Because I want to make you mine, in every possible way I can. Because I want to tie you to me with another string, my darling. Yes, Liam now carries my name...and I want the world to know Meredith Yvette Skye, renowned musician, conductor, aspiring composer, and leukemia—”

“Stop,” Merry interrupted him sharply, and placed her hand over his mouth. “I’ve told you, Thomas! You simply cannot say things like that! I know what you were going to say, and you just...can’t.”

“Is that what this is all about? You’re afraid to marry me because you’re afraid of a relapse? Merry.” His face was reproachful.

“I don’t want to make you a widower, Tom.”

“Merry. Whatever the future holds, we can’t change a thing...but we can be happy now. In this moment. Darling, please...will you agree to be my bride? Say you’ll be my wife.”

When she didn’t immediately refuse, as she had done countless times before, Tom stopped in front of her, and saw her torn expression. Slowly, he got down on one knee, and pulled out of his pocket the box he kept on his person at all times, in readiness for the moment when he finally wore her down.

“My sweetest Mozart...will you marry me? Please say you’ll honor me, and be my wife.”

The sun caught her hair, short, but still a riot of curls, a much darker red than before, but still created a halo around her head. “Yes, Tom,” she answered with a smile at last. “Yes, I will marry you.”

“Papa? What are you doing?”

Liam watched his father slide a ring onto his mother’s finger, oblivious to the crowd of onlookers that had gathered and were taking photos, cheering and shouting out congratulations.

“Something I should have done a long time ago, son. Are you ready to go home?”

“Uh huh. I ran out of bread. Greedy ducks.”

The three of them walked home, Papa Bear, Liam, and Mama, animatedly discussing what would be for supper.

“We need to text Luke,” Merry sighed.

“Why bother? I’m sure he already knows,” Tom replied cheerfully.

Merry sighed, and reached for her phone, but before she could even reach it, Tom’s began to buzz like a hornet.

“See?”

Merry celebrated the second official anniversary of her remission by holding a small benefit concert in New York for Sloan Kettering, to benefit leukemia research. She hand selected the musicians, and was surprised by the interest generated. She had to find a larger venue twice.

Merry celebrated the third anniversary of her remission by being the soloist for Aiden’s wedding to Catherine Walsh. Aiden never expected to fall in love. In fact, he never had moved out of the small, unusual family home, even as Tom and Merry’s relationship became more solid, her health continued to improve, and she and Tom even wed in an very small, private ceremony. He was simply too bonded to Liam, and Liam to Aiden. Both Merry and Tom would never have countenanced trying to weaken or break their tender connection, and would have fought anyone who would have attempted to do so.

As Liam was now in school, Aiden was free to do as he liked during the school hours, and decided he wanted to pursue teaching at the same school Liam was attending, as there was an opening. Once there, he fell head over heels—literally—when he was knocked over by a choir director who was overloaded with stacks of music.

Liam was too old to be a ring bearer, but just perfect for standing alongside his beloved mentor and handing him the rings at the appointed time. The best man, Tom Hiddleston, thought this was completely appropriate.

Merry celebrated the fourth anniversary of her remission by forcing her beloved husband into taking a much needed vacation. He had been working a crushing schedule for the past year, and she had had enough of being apart from him. While she was very understanding and patient, and wanted to see him take the roles he desired, the projects that meant the most to him, and was fiercely proud of the honors and awards he achieved, she was also very frustrated with seeing how depressed Liam was with his Papa’s continual absences, Tom’s persistent weary appearance on their frequent video calls, and her trying to juggle Tom’s schedule with Liam’s schooling and her occasional guest appearances with different musical groups and working on her own compositions. Tom was aghast when he realized how badly his son was missing him, how thin Merry had become trying to keep everyone happy as well as worrying about everyone but herself, and even how he wasn’t taking the best care of himself in the absence of his doting wife. When he saw how wan Merry was, he actually became frightened and insisted on her scheduling an appointment with Kelly as soon as they left their island retreat. Kelly saw through Merry’s new tan immediately, and ran every test twice.

To Tom’s immeasurable relief, Merry still showed no sign of the leukemia having returned...but he felt Kelly’s eyes on him, mutely judging him for allowing her to become so worn down. A few casual statements about “the price of success” and “the value of family” and he could scarcely lift his head from the shame.

When the appointment was over, Merry teased Tom, “I told you I was fine, worry wart. I was just tired, that’s all.”

“That flu you battled didn’t help. You dropped weight you could ill afford to lose,” Kelly mildly reminded her, and Tom winced imperceptibly, even as he turned to face his wife.

He smiled, and kissed Merry. “You are worth everything to me,” he answered honestly. “It was worth the peace of mind, to have Kelly take a look at you.”

“Merry, why don’t you stop by the music room, and I’ll let everyone who is ambulatory know you’re around for a quick few pieces, if you’re amenable,” smiled Kelly.

“Of course,” agreed Merry. “I’ll go freshen up and meet you there.”

Once she was gone, Kelly dropped the affable expression and simply...looked at Tom.

“Music room? That’s new,” Tom said, hoping to stall the inevitable.

“No, it’s been around for about a year now. You didn’t know about it?”

“Should I have?”

“Considering it was your wife’s idea, she spearheaded the fundraising, organized the purchasing, and wrote the philosophy and goals behind it, I would think so, yes.” Kelly stood and looked at him, her face blank. “I’m disappointed in you, Tom.”

He reared back as if he had been slapped.

“Do you have any idea how lucky you are? How phenomenally blessed? That woman is a walking scientific breakthrough. They are citing her case and will be for years to come. Do you know what the average survival rate was for adults with ALL? Only 25% to 35% of adults were able to live five years or longer. And when she came to you, Tom, she was already at year four...on experimental trial, conceivably her last chance. Do you even remember what poor condition she was in, or have you blocked that out already?”

“I remember,” he answered tonelessly.

“I would almost rather you had forgotten. It would make the condition that she is in now easier to understand.” Kelly sighed. “I know, I know you have amazing opportunities. I know too that she makes it easy for you to forget. But I didn’t think you’d be this complacent. I truly didn’t.”

Tom remained silent, just ran his fingers along the underside of her desk.

“Just stop and think about what success really means, Tom. And what you really need to be happy.” Kelly stopped. “But I’m up on my soapbox again. Come see what your wife has been up to while you’ve been away. I am not denigrating your work. I know you make millions of people happy. That is important. Please don’t think I am unaware of it.”

She guided Tom to an area he had never had a reason to visit, and as he approached, he heard laughter, music, and squealing of children.

“You know Merry, she’s never happy if she can’t be making music,” Tom remembered Aiden saying once.

He walked into an area that looked like a scene from...well, a movie.

The walls were a combination of windows to let in natural light, and whimsical murals of sheet music, with happy, smiling quarter notes, half notes, rests and treble clefs and sharps... there was a piano, and stringed instruments hanging carefully from the walls, with sign up sheets for lessons...headphones with beanbag chairs and recliners, for anyone to just lie back and enjoy listening...Merry was seated in the center, with a cello, and a group of children running the gamut of ages, with a handful of adults, some clearly patients, some visiting family members.

Merry was being hit with a deluge of questions, but as Tom looked about, he saw a plaque on the wall that simply read, “The Music Room” and underneath in a smaller font “Where words fail, music speaks: Hans Christian Andersen”.

Tom deliberately remained in the back of the room. He did not want to be noticed. This was a place where people, young and old alike, came to find some healing in music. His beloved wife had arranged for this temple to be erected, and now, she graced it like the goddess she was. Far be it from him to distract the devout.

He smiled as he heard the clamor for her to play, and she laughed and agreed to play for awhile. He leaned against the glass, angling himself so he could watch her in the reflection as she tuned the cello quickly and began.

Not surprisingly, her first piece was a rollicking jig that set the youngest set dancing if they were strong enough, and those that felt they were either too tired or else too grown up just laughed and clapped along. Tom smiled as he looked at his shoes, wishing for his spoons. Such was the joy she inspired.

Her second was a waltz. He actually turned and caught her eye, surprised. His heart and conscience tugged at him, as he wondered when was the last time he had danced with his wife. He’d forgotten. Listening to her lilting notes, he was drawn with the strong urge to whisk her up and begin dancing with her himself, remembering how he would do so as Liam would laugh and laugh as he did so.

The third was soft, and gentle, but not melancholy. He saw where she deliberately chose selections that would not leave anyone’s spirits feeling lonely, or anxious. A wave of love crashed over his heart. She knew grief, abandonment, and weariness, and was making sure that in this place, she would not add these burdens to her small audience.

“All right, last one,” she said. There was a small outcry of “awww”s and she rested on her cello for a moment as she confided, “I don’t know if you are aware of it, but I was treated here too...just down the hall there. Yes, it’s true,” she added when there were a few that expressed their surprise. Merry was not in the best of shape, maybe, as Tom looked at her with his eyes newly opened with guilt and a strong resolve to make sure she became stronger and sleeker under his loving, watchful gaze...but she was here.

“Like all of you, there were days I felt sick to my soul...so tired, and just over it all...but then I would hear this song, and I would find enough encouragement to pick my head up, and keep on keeping on. I’m going to share it with you, and I hope it helps you when you’re feeling like you need a pick me up. If you know the lyrics, sing along, all right?”

Tom was intrigued. Merry had never mentioned any of this to him...

Before she started, she dragged over a wooden box that held a collection of musical toys, and winking at one of the kids, quickly rigged it into an impromptu...foot powered drum?

Merry, what are you up to?

Once again, he caught her eye, his eyebrow lifted in blatant curiosity. She simply gave him a small grin, and began.

He fell in love, all over again:

Selection the Second: Reader’s Choice: Instrumental--https://youtu.be/rYQLXeDZ3lw OR https://open.spotify.com/track/3eAYt2sZZSyqBM2LllwPJg?si=Px-xv-uPTHyAq7LbiucFwQ

OR Vocals https://youtu.be/xo1VInw-SKc OR https://open.spotify.com/track/37f4ITSlgPX81ad2EvmVQr?si=shhYva9cQUmuIjMWJn_igQ

Like a small boat

On the ocean

Sending big waves

Into motion

Like how a single word

Can make a heart open

I might only have one match

But I can make an explosion

And all those things I didn't say

Wrecking balls inside my brain

I will scream them loud tonight

Can you hear my voice this time?

This is my fight song

Take back my life song

Prove I'm alright song

My power's turned on

Starting right now I'll be strong

I'll play my fight song

And I don't really care if nobody else believes

'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me

Her voice started off alone, quiet but sure, but then another voice picked up, and then another. Her foot was keeping time fiercely with her makeshift drum. Children were jumping and dancing. Adults were standing and swaying, some with their hands over their heads. Some had tears on their faces, others were laughing, still others were singing with triumph written all over their faces. By the end, Tom saw everyone was singing, including Kelly, who was taking turns dancing with different patients and family members. The music was more than just notes, it was a manifestation of the spirit of everyone present, refusing to bow to the odds, defying weakness and pain and suffering.

She turned to Tom once when she sang,

And all those things I didn't say

Wrecking balls inside my brain

I will scream them loud tonight

Can you hear my voice this time?

He saw the memory of the pain in her eyes, all the nights she couldn’t sleep, and her mind must have gone round for round, all the words she wanted to say, but never had, second guessing herself, playing the “what-if” game...he mouthed, “I love you,” to her, and saw a smile fill those same eyes, and promised himself he was going to make sure tonight her eyes held nothing but joy.

When the singing stopped, Merry looked at everyone present and repeated, “Cause I know I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me...and so do you.”

Oh yes, my Mozart. You do. And I’m not going to be complacent anymore.

Selection the Third: https://youtu.be/8L-Bk28Ra6Q OR https://open.spotify.com/track/1iyMfyCRzkcW3x7CGEckgY?si=rIf8VY5BQiislFRKsJ3Z8g

Merry celebrated the fifth anniversary of her remission by participating in the third annual benefit concert for Sloan Kettering. What she had begun to celebrate her second anniversary had grown so huge she was unable to continue it on her own, and gratefully turned the entire thing over to the New York Symphony’s auspices.

It was an extremely emotional experience for her. Not only was it what many saw as a coveted milestone, (although there was a lot of debate as to whether five years was the milestone or ten, to be considered as “cured”), but Merry, absolutely quaking and gripped with stage fright for the first time in her entire life, stepped in front of the New York Symphony Orchestra to conduct her own composition, A Symphony with Strings, in C.

She was repeatedly asked about the quirky title, “Don’t all symphonies have strings?” which led her patiently answering, repeatedly, how “strings” referred to a metaphor about connections, and how certain themes began in the opening, then changed, grew and matured throughout the composition, just as in a relationship.

The fact her main “string” had a name—William Thomas—she kept to herself.

Tom was the only person that asked what she considered the real question:

“Why C major?”

It was after the performance, and the after parties. Merry was lying down on a massive hotel bed, hair (glorious once more) spread across a sinfully decadent pillowcase, a cool cloth across her eyes. Tom had all the lights off, and the drapes open, so the lights of the city skyline were visible. Aiden had Liam with him and Catherine two floors down, so they could enjoy being blissfully, unapologetically nude after enjoying their own after-after party.

“Because I wrote it.”

Merry’s voice was lazy and content.

“That is...as clear as mud.”

“Well, darling husband, I guess if you had written it, it would have been in the key of E...? Or maybe G...” she yawned. Her head was aching as she was coming off all of the champagne she had consumed. “Drink more water,” Tom ordered her as he refreshed the cloth, “and try explaining that one again, please?”

Merry rolled over to her side, arm extended, as she gratefully accepted the facecloth.

“C for Chai, Tom...rather than Earl Grey.”

Merry celebrated the sixth and seventh anniversary of her remission quietly. She and Tom had settled down in a lovely neighborhood in London. Tom had decided he was going to do more theater, and if and when a project came along he simply could not turn down, he did his level best to either take his family along, or else manage his time away so there were plenty of opportunity for visits. Gone were the months and months of time spent apart. No one was happy, and Tom recognized no role, no award, was worth losing so much time with his family. He would never forgive himself if a movie, or a play, caused his family so much grief. Nothing was worth it.

Liam, like his mother, was an extremely talented musician. Merry never pushed Liam beyond his capabilities, nor beyond his passion. She also did not try to teach her son, rather acted as his confidante, advisor, and above all, his doting and loving mother...who still would take no excuses for rudeness or poor behavior.

Aiden and Catherine remained in the States, and it was a painful wrench when the odd little family separated themselves by an ocean. However, between daily video calls, incessant texting, and frequent visits, the pain was eased. Aiden knew he and his family was always welcome at the Hiddleston home, which was really by extension his home. He remained close to Liam, and his role segued into that of a loving older brother, rather than father figure. Liam kept in daily contact, as did Merry. Tom also blew up his phone on a daily basis. Aiden never felt as though he had been cut off or evicted...and when his own family began expanding, Liam was thrilled to finally have little “cousins” to love and boss as often as he could.

Merry never again went back to conducting. She knew in order for her to regain her edge, she would have to put in massive amounts of time and practice. Even six and seven years after her battle with leukemia, she still revisited Sloan Kettering on a regular basis. Every time she bruised, Tom’s face paled, and any illness, weight loss or fatigue meant an immediate trip to the doctor. Merry’s love for music was still keen, and she played the cello, the piano, and the violin more often than she did anything else. After her symphonic debut, she was approached to compose for a variety of reasons, but she refused most of the commissions, choosing to write only when she felt moved to do so. She was just as focused on her music, and as unfocused on anything else that wasn’t her family. She still needed to set multiple alarms at times, and while she didn’t need as many sticky notes around the house as she did as when Tom first met her, both Liam and Tom knew frequent reminders were often a good idea.

Merry celebrated her eighth anniversary by making the conscious decision not to celebrate her remission anniversaries anymore. Rather, she would celebrate every single day as exactly for what they were: gifts she would enjoy and cherish, for the rest of her life, however long it may be. Counting days was restrictive. Who did that?

Encore:

Tom had just won his first Academy Award for Best Actor.

He was frozen in his seat. Cameras around the world saw his stunned expression, how his PR agent and longtime friend, Luke Windsor, physically grabbed and pushed him towards the stage.

He accepted the coveted trophy and hugs from the two presenters, and stood by the microphone.

He licked his lips, the ran his hand through his hair repeatedly.

“Um, wow,” he managed, to applause and laughter.

Finally, he opened his glasses as he took a folded piece of paper form his sharply tailored tuxedo jacket and began:

“In light of my history of speaking of the cuff for long periods of time, you will be happy to know that my long suffering agent, Luke Windsor, stood over me and made me write this out in advance, even as I whined it was unnecessary, because there was no hope of my winning. He timed me and everything...and my son, Liam Hiddleston, is currently tracking me with a stopwatch. Keep me honest, Liam.”

Cameras panned to a handsome young man, who smiled, rolled his eyes as only a preteen can, and made a, “get on with it,” hand motion as he kept his eyes trained on his watch. More laughter erupted throughout the famed theater.

Tom was perfect. He thanked everyone, in his precise and eloquent fashion: the cast, the crew, the writers...he then thanked his mother, and his sisters.

“Doing all right, Liam?” Liam gave him a “thumbs up.”

At this point, Tom tore his notes up, and Luke audibly gasped. “No, Tom. No. Nononono...”

“Liam...I’ve done a lot of things before I saw you for the first time...and while I am proud of them, they don’t hold a candle in my heart compared to that one moment. The best thing I can hope to do with my life is make you proud of your old man, because the best and most important role I’ve ever gotten is being your Papa.” Tom’s voice was becoming markedly thicker, but he was still able to continue speaking. “I am going to stop embarrassing you now...No I’m not. I love you, son.”

Cameras flashed back to Liam, who was blushing, and grinning, even as he kept making his, “keep going,” hand signals, faster now.

“And now...to my beloved Merry. My wife.” Tom took a deep breath. “Darling...words cannot begin to say how much I love you, so I am not even going to try...” Tom’s voice failed him for a moment. “You are always in my heart...I knew this project was going to be challenging, filming half a world away, but I had no idea, I couldn’t know, Mozart, I didn’t...” Tom’s voice failed him again. The silence in the theatre was so complete, the microphone picked up his intake of breath as he tried again. “You made me into a better man, just by being in my life. You showed me what success truly is. You set the standard for grace, courage, and strength...I could go on and on, but our son is letting me know I’ve run out of time, and that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? So, all I can do for now, is this.” He pressed his lips together into a thin line as he looked upwards from the podium, then blew a kiss out into the sea of lights and faces, because the one face he wanted to see was not there. His voice cracked as he concluded, “You have my heart tonight, tomorrow, and for all time. My God, how I love you, Merry. Thank you.”

The theme music for his film that accompanied his exit off the stage seemed less brassy than usual. After the world, let alone the entire auditorium, witnessed Tom Hiddleston break down so profoundly as he professed his love for his wife, it would have seemed somewhat in questionable taste, even for Hollywood.

Luke was pulling his hair as he was waiting for Tom behind the curtain. “Why, Tom? Why did you do it? You had a perfectly good speech...why did you tear it up?”

Tom was wiping his face with a damp cloth someone had handed him. “Because it didn’t begin to say what was in my heart, Luke! It felt wrong! It was wrong!” As he spoke, his eyes kept darting around wildly. “What’s wrong with speaking what was on my heart?”

“Because, my dearest, you kinda made me sound like I was dead,” Merry answered apologetically. She wrapped her arms around her husband, resting her head against his chest as he firmly gathered her into his embrace. “Between Luke grabbing you and pushing you onstage before I could even give you a kiss, and then another person taking my hand and rushing me backstage...I feel as though I missed the overture and the finale!”

“Darling, I had no idea this film was going to stress our family as badly as it did. You never even told me how ill you were with the flu...Kelly just looked at me, and I realized how far I strayed from my promises, to you and Liam both...Christ, Merry, if I’d lost you? No award would ever make up for that. It would all be ashes in my mouth...”

“But you didn’t lose me. You finished an important work, Tom, with an amazing cast, that is all waiting to celebrate with you...now go on, you silly puppy. You worked so hard. Go play. Meet with everyone who is waiting on you.” Merry stood on her tiptoes and kissed her husband on the lips, her eyes shining with love as she patted his chest.

She was unaware their photo was being taken as she did so, his arm around her waist, her hand over his heart, and the captions all were a variation on the theme:

“A tender moment shared by Academy Award Winner Tom Hiddleston and his wife, classically-trained musician Meredith Skye-Hiddleston. Hiddleston sang praises to his wife, affectionately nicknamed ‘Mozart’ in tribute to her many musical talents, in his acceptance speech. Later in the evening, Skye-Hiddleston wryly commented, “There is a reason Tom needs to stick to the notes as they are written. He’s not ready for cadenzas just yet.”

So Merry, Liam, and Papa Bear?

They lived happily ever after.

TAGGING: Lifetime Memberships @hopelessromanticspoonie @yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @vodka-and-some-sass @winterisakiller @theheartofpenelope

Symphony Season Ticket Holders: @jessiejunebug @alexakeyloveloki @scorpionchild81 @tinchentitri @theoneanna @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @blacksuitofdoom @mishaandthebrits @wegingerangelican @rjohnson1280 @ms-cellanies @noplacelikehome77 @villainousshakespeare

* simply because Aiden has quite politely asked his side of Chapter 7 be told. We shall see.

Dedicated in loving memory of Christine. Your fight song will never be silenced in my heart...but my God, I miss you so much.

#tom hiddleston #a symphony without strings #tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston x oc #look Christine I did a thing #Nonsensical Writes

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mnchysmanuscripts · 4 years

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Twenty Twenty

It’s that time of year again, waves of resolutions are washing across my timeline and a sense of self-improvement is in the air. If you think for a second I’m going to miss out on an opportunity for easy compliments and encouragement, you clearly don’t know me that well. But, I’m not a huge fan of New Year’s resolutions. Creating pass/fail goals over long stretches of time that necessitate radical changes to your lifestyle without accompanying radical changes to your lifestyle never seem to work out. I am a huge fan of yearly themes, however. In fact, I had one for 2019.

Last year was the Year of More. I knew that once I started college I wouldn’t have nearly as much temporal freedom as I once had to waste away and accomplish nothing of value, and so I resolved to branch out and expand my both literal and figurative palate as much as possible before school started. It’s hard to state exactly how successful the year was without concrete data, but I was able to accomplish a few of my goals. I picked up new skills that I use still routinely, I massively expanded my pool of artistic inspiration and intellectual stimuli, I tried a bunch of weird/scary foods, traveled to far off places without my mommy, and moved to a new city across the country. All of these are great victories, but the actual moment to moment of the year was pretty much how the moment to moment of my life had been before it. One of the main goals of the Year of the More was to finish creative projects I had always wanted to but never found the time or place for. That, obviously, didn’t pan out. As it turns out, you can’t do more things just by saying you’ll do more things. Productivity doesn’t really work like that.

Your brain loves crossing out items in a to-do list. There’s no greater feeling in the world than accomplishing your goals and seeing men cower at the sight. But, doing things is hard. It requires time and effort, both of which are limited resources. Not to mention, while your brain loves a completed project, it hates actually performing the actions necessary to complete them. If it’s a matter of life or death, your brain can compel you to do almost anything, but it will continuously try to weasel out of every other scenario until it reaches that point. Besides, your deadline isn’t that urgent. Maybe it won’t be a big deal if you don’t get started right away. You’ve been so good lately too, you deserve a break. You can always get it done tomorrow. It’s here, when your brain is confronted with ambiguity of necessity and genuinely plausible excuses, that it becomes all too easy to become distracted and procrastinate. The problem is multiplied when you have multiple projects you want to work on, because even the act of deciding what project to work on can trigger you to hesitate and become distracted. When you’re distracted, you’re not doing work and you aren’t really having fun either. It’s hard to not feel guilty booting up that video game when you know you should be working, but it’s equally as hard to pry yourself away from it once you start playing. You’re stuck in the middle, all because there was no clear decision to be made. In your hesitation, your brain defaulted to the path of least resistance and you’re paying for it. This sort of thing would happen to me nearly every day of my life. And it wasn’t just my laziness, there’s something else at play here too.

Across the nation, our best and brightest are being round up and employed at a handful of mega-corporations with a singular purpose: to find cool, new ways to sell things to you. This is not a conspiracy, this is not science fiction, this was cutting edge ten years ago and now it’s just taken for granted by everyone who thinks about it for more than a second. Your favorite social media is not a neutral platform that you come to socialize and consume content on. It is a business, and as a business it has the sole purpose of making money, and the way these business makes money is by selling ad space and by selling your data to advertisers. The longer you look and the more you refresh, the more advertisements you’ll see and the more data you’ll leave behind. All the while, that social media platform is making money. Many people I know, perhaps even you reading this sentence right now, get the vast majority of their social interaction and consume the vast majority of their media through these systems which have been designed with the sole purpose of maximizing the amount of time spent looking at advertisements. To accomplish this, social media platforms (and by extension the promoted user generated content on said platforms) intentionally make their websites as addicting as possible. They develop algorithms to show you the posts that will keep you the most engaged, for better or for worse, because they need to keep your attention for as long as possible. It doesn’t matter if you have AdBlock and aren’t literally seeing advertisements, the systems these websites are built on still affect you and are still extremely dangerous. We have become addicted to refreshing the page in the hopes that we will get to see and consume more and more content like pigs at a trough, all for the benefit of the pasty nerds and rich people. Just to be clear, I’m not above this. You aren’t stupid for closing that tab just to reopen it moments later. Like I said, our best and brightest are intentionally designing these systems for their job. They are preying on the mind’s easily exploitable ability to become distracted and using it for possibly the most evil goal fucking imaginable. Facebook broke your brain to spam you with pop-up ads.

And so, as a result of being a scatterbrained creative with too much time on my hands and a stable internet connection, I have the worst of both worlds. I’m pushed by my lack of severe lack of self-discipline and easily distractible set of hobbies, and pulled by algorithms designed by a team of the nation’s top scientists to be as addicting and time-consuming as possible, into becoming a strange being consisting only of wasted time and untapped potential.

But no more, I say. It’s time I take matters into my own hands. These distractions are like the brambles of a jungle-- chaotic and ever-growing. I must cleave through them with my machete and create the sort of life I want to live in. It’ll be a life without distractions, without addictions. It’ll be a life of intentionality, of clarity. I will conquer this jungle.

2020 is the Year of Conquest. I’m taking back my life and making sure I live as intentional of a life as I possibly can. What’s so painful about distractions is how they can eat away an afternoon or an entire day you promised yourself you would spend working. I’m not going to never play a video game ever again, quite the opposite. I’m simply going to clearly define times where I will work and times I will play, there can’t be anymore ambiguity. When I’m working, I’m working. When I’m playing, I’m playing. And, of course, I will try as hard as I can to wrestle with my addiction to social media. I’m not leaving the internet, obviously. I will still use social media but, again, in an intentional manner. I will not allow my tools to seduce me. My phone does not get to beckon me to it with notifications and interrupt my work. I will use it when and only when I choose to.

All this might sound a bit vague, but that’s how themes work best. The Year of Conquest is simply the prompt, the starting point for a whole roster of specific resolutions. I fully intend to get more specific and walkthrough my actual plans/goals for the year, but if I just start listing them all right now then I’ll get a dopamine rush that’ll satiate my self-improvement appetite and I’ll end up not actually doing them. In general though, I’m going to use a combination of incentivizes, disincentivizes, and structural lifestyle changes to try and lead a more intentional life. These carrots, sticks, and tracks definitely can and will be explained in a future post but again that’s a story for another time. Probably tomorrow, it’s my bedtime.

(Send me asks and give me some feedback. It makes me happy to know people are actually reading.)

#munchuscript

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dailyaudiobible · 4 years

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01/17/2020 DAB Transcript

Genesis 35:1-36:43, Matthew 12:1-21, Psalms 15:1-5, Proverbs 3:21-26

Today is the 17th day of January, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian and it's great to be here with you as we take the next step forward in the Scriptures, but the next step forward into the end of our week. We have already successfully passed the center of this month and the strangest thing will happen, we’ll just keep doing this and one day we’ll wake up and we’ll be passing through the center of June and we’ll say, “wasn't it just January? Didn't just start his voyage? But that's what seems to happen as we just keep showing up every day, day by day, step-by-step being transformed as God's word speaks to us. So, let's get that. We’re reading from the Christian Standard Bible this week and we’ve been tracking with the story of Jacob, whose name has become Israel, which snaps a lot of things into place because Jacob or Israel has kids, those kids are his children, the children of Israel and we’re watching that take shape as we continue forward in the story of Jacob. So, today Genesis chapters 35 and 36.

Commentary:

Okay. In the book of Genesis, we’ve been watching the story of Jacob since he fled Esau, right? And, so, he goes to Laban, he requires a household and a family, he leaves Laban, he meets Esau, they make their peace. There is a ton of drama involved, but they make their peace. And then so then Esau takes his household and moves away. Jacob kind of moves into the Land. He had the birthright he had his father's blessing. And although there was a time that this was some mortal conflict and looked like somebody was going to die, a couple of decades have past, the brothers have both prospered, Esau moves further east and in the same way that Jacob, his name becomes Israel we see that Esau's name becomes Edom and he becomes the father of the Edomites. And we spent a good deal of time reading the ancestral line of the Edomites and we might be like, “well what…you know…I understand there’s gonna be genealogies in the Bible, I just hope that they would make some sense as far as why they're there. And it does. It does. We just simply need to understand. This is Esau's family. They’re brothers. So, like, the Edomites and the Israelites are literally blood relations coming from two blood brothers, the sons of Isaac. We’re getting a good look at them now, because later on they're not going to be acting like brothers and that's going to be a problem. In fact, such a problem that an entire book of prophecy, a small one, but an entire book of prophecy will be dedicated to this conflict. But won’t happen until we get toward the end of this year. So, let's just kind of place a marker here after the same fashion that Jacob did, a little rock, a little marker here so that we can remember where we are in the story. Jacob and Esau. The Israelites and the Edomites.

Okay. Then we get into the book of Matthew and this week we sort of…we sorta hit a stride as we’re walking along through the gospel of Matthew and walking along with Jesus and observing His ministry and hearing what He is saying. And we got a distinct understanding and had plenty of time to talk about it this week about how backward…how backward the world seems to be or seemed to be in that time to the worldview that Jesus is describing in His ministry. He's discussing and revealing a kingdom and His words, and His deeds have certainly captured the attention and set the hearts of His hearers on fire. People are following Jesus and what they thought of Jesus we get clues to that in the Gospels when they say things like, “nobody ever talked about this before” or “this man preaches like He has authority that it is unlike any of our other scribes and Pharisees and rabbis.” So, we get the benefit of hearing what Jesus is saying but we also get clues about how that was impacting people. And we’ve talked about Jesus teaching wisdom. We’ve talked about Jesus being a miracle worker at a prophet and…and being perceived this way as He reveals God's kingdom. And although we know that Jesus did claim to be the way the truth and the life, and I for one believe that fully, that doesn't seem to be the mission that He's on, to convince everyone that He's the way the truth and the life. The mission that He seems to be on is one in which a shift in the way the world is seen can occur in the hearts of people, a change in worldview or a change in awareness or even a change in consciousness so that they can wake up to realize that God is doing something in the world already. It's not something to be waited for, it's something to be participated in now. So, in today's reading Jesus continues to minister and heal. I mean, He's beginning to get into trouble over just about everything now because the religious people are picking at Him. So, today's confrontation was over the Sabbath day. And He's gonna be in trouble about doing things on the Sabbath day on a number of Sabbath days, but simply to illustrate the vast difference between Jesus view of the world and humanity and humanity's view of themselves and of Jesus, all we need to do is read two verses that sum up our reading today. “Then he told the man, stretch out your hand. So, he stretched it out and it was restored as good as the other, but the Pharisees went out and plotted against Him, how they might kill him.” This illustrates how the light came into the darkness, but the darkness comprehended it not. And it was the religious leaders who missed it, the ones who should…the ones who should have saw it the most clear were the most blinded. And as we probably already know from the story of Jesus, we will see just how dark the darkness can be doing.

Then we get into the Psalms today, Psalms chapter 15, and there's these questions that we want answers to. “Who can dwell in your tent”, right? So, “who gets to live in your house? Who gets to be in your presence Lord? Who gets to live on your holy mountain?” And the questions are answered, “the one who lives blamelessly, practices righteousness, and acknowledges the truth in his heart, who does not slander with his tongue, does not harm his friend or discredit his neighbor, who despises the one rejected by the Lord, but honors those who fear the Lord, who keeps his word, whatever the cost or does not lend his silver at interest or take a bribe against the innocent. The one who does these things will never be shaken.” Now we could go like, “okay. there's my list, that's what I need to live into.” And there are lots of lists like this in the Bible of things that we ought to live into and…and we should: however, if we just go like, “alright. Well here's my first list. I'm going to try to live into this this week” and we write these characteristics down and by brute force we try to harness ourselves to be successful at this, we’re gonna find that we won't be successful, we will eventually fail because what we have going on here is the Bible speaking to us inwardly and us often processing it in ways outwardly. That's…that’s nothing more than rearranging the furniture in our lives, but not actually changing anything. So, David says, “who can dwell in your tent? The one who lives blamelessly, practices, righteousness and acknowledges the truth in his heart.” Let's work backwards on this. The one who acknowledges the truth in his heart. If there's one thing that we’re seeing in the gospel of Matthew right now in the person of Jesus it is someone who is true in his heart. It's actually that truth, that light that is causing problems for Him because as we talked about, truth will set you free but not before it confronts what is false. So, we go back to the Psalm. “Who can live in your tent?” The one who acknowledges the truth in his heart. In other words, the one who will allow the voice of wisdom in the presence of the Holy Spirit to expose what is false. The one who practices righteousness will dwell in God's presence. Practices righteousness. Not the one who has achieved mastery at being righteous in their own strength upon this earth. The one who practices righteousness. Alright. So, if we’re practicing righteousness and we are acknowledging the truth in our hearts then we got a good shot at a blameless life, but we’ve got a bunch of other characteristics we gotta live into, like the one that doesn't slander with her tongue. “Alright. now I gotta control my tongue. The one who doesn't harm his friend. “Well. I don't normally do that but sometimes I might accidentally say something I shouldn't.” The one who discredits his neighbor. They don't get to be in God's presence. “Well. I do that sometimes. Like we can go down this list but it's…it's actually quite simple. If you practice righteousness and acknowledge the truth in your heart and live a blameless life, then you are walking in wisdom. And if you are walking in wisdom then you are also walking in love. And will often find that when we get these kinds of lists from the Bible none of the things that we should avoid are things that we can possibly do in love. So, for example, can you slander with your tongue in love? Can you harm your friend in love? Can you discredit your neighbor in love? In the name of Jesus can you take a bribe against innocent if you love them? So, there are all kinds of things in the Bible that can give us lists that are very helpful because they name things. And Paul does this a lot. But then we can, you know, we can get these lists and then feel like they are overwhelming characteristic behavior modification projects and it can get absolutely overwhelming when actually all we have to do is ask ourselves, “can I do this in love?” And that makes the lists really clear.

Prayer:

Father we thank You for Your word. We thank You for leading us this far even though we’re just beginning, leading us this far into the journey and we thank You for all of the things that You are already touching, the things that You are already beginning to move around inside of us and we open ourselves to You. We invite You to continue this process that we might be one who acknowledges the truth in our hearts, that we might practice righteousness, that we might live in this world in love, Your love flowing out through us into the world. And we are learning plenty about the voice of wisdom. And Proverbs speaks to us clearly today, to maintain sound wisdom and discretion, to never lose sight of them. We will lose sight of them without Your guidance. So, guide us Father because the Scriptures tell us that wisdom and discretion will be the light for us and adornment for our necks. We’ll be able to go safely on our way if we walk with wisdom and discretion. Our feet won't stumble. When we lie down, we won't be afraid. Our sleep will be pleasant and restorative. We won't have to fear the suddenness of danger or the ruin of the wicked. You’ll be our confidence. You'll keep our feet from snares if we are willing to maintain wisdom and discretion. Come Holy Spirit that is precisely what we want to do. Come Holy Spirit and show us how. We pray this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website and its home base, its where you find out what’s going on around here. So, be sure to stay tuned and stay connected in any way that you can.

I remind you that this, what you’re listening to right now is the Daily Audio Bible and we are working our way through the Bible in year but there's also the Daily Audio Bible Chronological, a community of people led by my daughter China who are working their way through the entire Bible in a year, but in chronological order, in the order that the events happened. So that's available.

I also…I mean…we've talked about wisdom quite a bit because the Bible does. And, so, we will throughout this year. And one of the greatest repositories of…of the outflow of wisdom would be the book of Proverbs. The Daily Audio Proverb is available, going through up a chapter a day and through the entire book of Proverbs in a month. It is a fantastic vitamin, like for your day. It takes…I don't know…a couple…a few minutes…less than five minutes to pour unfiltered wisdom into your heart.

And the Daily Audio Psalm is also available. That's about two minutes and it just kind of additionally works through the Psalms. So, there's these…these communities going through the Bible in a year and there's these vitamins along the way to just kind of reinforce the Scripture and its advice in our lives. And I mentioned all that kind of at the beginning of the year, but now we’re a couple weeks in, we moved through the halfway point of the first month, so we probably have the lay of the land a little. So, we can start thinking about, “okay. How do…where are the little places that I can put the Scriptures in…in my life so that yes, I hear from God's word, but I'm continually setting up things in my life that remind me of my life and who I am and who I belong to and where this is all going. So, those resources are available. Check them out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com. There is a link and it lives on the homepage and I thank you with all my heart for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address, if you prefer, is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or comment you can just hit the Hotline button in the app, the little red button at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I will be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi, this is Kimberly and I am struggling with PTSD from childhood sexual abuse. In both cases they were men from church. One was my youth pastor and I am really struggling because church is a place that’s very triggering for me and yet I know it’s important and I believe it’s important to be a part of community and fellowship with other believers. So, I would appreciate your prayers. Thank you.

Hi, this is Elizabeth calling from __ Canada it is Sunday, January the 12th. I am a first-time caller but listened to the DAB for over two years now. I just really wanted to call in to introduce myself and wanted to for a while, but I haven’t had the courage to do so. So, I’m really hoping that I see this through, and they play this message. And I also wanted to call and say thank you Brian, Jill, China. Thank you for this amazing ministry. Thank you for your dedication and devotion in reading the Bible day in day out and the commentary. It’s made such an impact to my life and I just want to say thank you to my fellow DABbers. Thank you for prayer warriors for remembering me in your prayers and for those of you that call in with your requests. I’m there praying with you and praying for you. And for those of you that are calling in with praises, I’m there celebrating with you and dancing you and just I just feel over the years I’ve gotten to know you guys and consider you my friends and just thank you so much for being in my life. For those of you that just have an amazing gift in music, poetry and singing, just thank you for that. When I hear you, I get goosebumps almost and it is sewn up with me a feeding of my soul or making my soul happy or my soul connecting with yours. So, just thank you for that and I hope you continue to do so. And for those of you who are as may be as timid as me and afraid to call in, I encourage you to call in and say hi because, you know what, we have nothing for fear, we have nothing to fear when God is on our side. So…so, I encourage you to please call in and overcome the spirit like I am trying to do right now. And, so, hopefully I’ll come back again soon but just again thank you everyone. Bye.

This is Denise and it is January 13th and I have been praying all week over the 1/6 Anonymous call who called in within hours of finding out her sister committed suicide and I apologize it took me so long to make this recording and this is actually my 6th version because I don’t know the words but the words I have are the words in the book in front of me that I read every day. And I go straight to Revelation 21 when things this big happen. So, I’m gonna read it now. Now I saw a new heaven and a new earth for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. Also, there was no more sea. Then I, John, saw the holy city, new Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God prepared as a bride adorned for her husband and I heard a loud voice from heaven saying behold the tabernacle of God is with men and He will dwell with them and they shall be His people. God himself will be with them and be their God and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There shall be no more death nor sorrow nor crying. There shall be no more pain for the former things have passed away. Then He who sat on the throne said behold, I make all things new and He said to me, write for these words are true and faithful and He said to me it is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega the beginning and the end. I will give the fountain of the water of life freely to and whose thirst. He who overcomes shall inherit all things and I will be His God and he shall be my son. Please take care of yourself. Please make sure that you are eating and that you are sleeping and that you have someone to talk to. Do not try to go through such a shocking overwhelming large piece of grief by yourself. If that’s us, great. If it’s us and other people, even better. And I just want you to know that I’m lifting you up. I am so so sorry and I’m sitting in your grief with you. In Jesus’ name.

Hi Daily Audio Bible, this is Vanessa from Arizona. I actually am calling to say hi again and thank you Brian and Jill and family just for…for your faithfulness, for your continued obedience and excitement about God’s word and this community. Brian the other day you were like, “I’m just so excited for everything that we’re gonna get to do here.” And it was really cool. It made my heart dance and smile to hear your like genuine excitement in your voice from being able…being able to do this like, you know, just having the privilege of reading God’s word and being the leader of this community. And, so, I thank you and I thank Jill and your family for all that you guys do and your team, your tech team, all of it. Anyways, I’m calling because I first started listening to Daily Audio Bible in 2014. I went to the women’s conference that year in 2015 and in 2016 I had my first baby. Sela’s now three and I actually named her Sela. I didn’t really know how that word sounded until I started listening to the Daily Audio Bible and I would hear you say that at the end of some of the Psalms, you know, as it is in the Bible and I just loved it and when I went to, you know, think about and pray about what her name…it should be that one just kind of really sat on my heart. So, anyways that’s her name. She’s three and I think I called back in 2018 when we were pregnant with the twins and we had like a in utero surgery. They were about 21 weeks gestation and it was really, really high risk and just a lot of mystery around what was gonna happen and by Gods, amazing…

Hello fellow DABbers this is Wayne from Maine calling. It’s been a long time guys since I’ve called but I want to welcome the new listeners and say hey to the old listeners. New listeners, if you listen every day to this it will change your life. Why? Because the Bible is the living word of God! Guys, we have so much to be thankful for. Christ, the Creator of the universe loves us, and He chose you and me. Hold onto your seats, guys. He abides in us. Kapow!!! Mind blowing, I know. Wow! So, listen. As you listen ask the Spirit of the Lord to speak to you and guess what? Dudes, take time to listen. Let’s be a reflection of his love. That’s all I got for now. This is Wayne from Maine. Act justly, love mercy and let’s walk humbly with our God. Cheers guys.

Good morning DAB family this is Yvonne from California. You don’t know how many times I’ve started this call and had to hang up. I’m a long-time listener since 2008, first-time caller. I need you to pray please for my children. I pray for them faithfully, faithfully and they turned and dropped everything that we’ve taught them. I have two of them that not only have left the Lord but have embraced Taroh cards and horrible things from darkness and I don’t understand. For a long time I was just really disappointed with God and to be honest I don’t even know how to pray for them. But Brian read the end of last year, how God was calling those back…children of Israel back that were worshiping the Asherah poles and foreign Gods. And I’m just praying that God would have mercy on my children. And I realize how much shame I carry __ their choices and there’s nothing that I can do __ . I know that it’s the shame that’s kept me all this time from calling and there was one morning where Brian was talking…was talking about the shame and I realized that shame is not from God. So, I’m calling for my worldwide DAB family brothers and sisters to please pray for my children, that they would repent from their dark evil ways and will turn to the way that they were raised. Thank you. Thank you so much for helping me. I feel like I’m not alone in carrying this.

Hi this is Victoria Soldier just calling I wanted to pray for some of the DABbers. I just wanted to give a little…a shout for someone to remember me in their prayers. Remember the churched that were burnt down in Louisiana about nine months ago? Well, the second church was my family church. And I just opened up Facebook today to find out that my cousin who was a pastor there, that he died on yesterday. But I just ask you all to pray for our family Lord and pray that, you know, the church would be what God want it to be. Lord…and I just ask…I want to pray for…I want to pray for Anonymous. I want to pray for those who are going through depression. I want to pray for peace…a few were calling about praying for peace. I want to pray for my sister who lost her precious husband. I want to pray for the Tony Evans family. Tony Evans lost his precious wife and those kids lost their precious mother and I want to pray for those today who lost their precious mother and father. I lost mine quite a few years ago and it’s never easy whether you’re young or whether your old. The only thing is, when you’re young you need them more and when you’re older you know you’ve had then and now you’ve moved on but that…that you’re not as dependent on needing them. I want to pray for someone today who lost their parents when they were young and lost them when they were old because you’re...you still miss them no matter what. Gracious Father I just pray for this DABbers, those who are going through, those who lost a precious love one any time. Lord You could just strengthen them, You guide them. Only You know how the bereaving process goes but Lord we know that the hope we have is that we’ll get to see them again, that we hold on and know that we…we are…that You are able to deliver. Lord we don’t know what happened before they…

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