#these men give me hope ill live long enough to be like them

[fantasy-relax]

Brain worms attacking me.

Re8 Monarchy/medieval au/ omega verse because if I am cooking I'm gonna put every spice I want to.

Miranda (omega) is the queen living in cold war after the recent death of her husband, she is working in the betterment of the kingdom for her toddler daughter, Eva. The lords and ladies are children of the most high noble houses.

The stereotyping of the A/B /O is fading in the kingdom, all have the right to education and part of heritage, but of course there are people that refuse to change and keep thinking of alpha as the top, beta the middle and omega at the bottom. The same way men have more value that women. So the preference for children in this kind of families is:

Alpha male

Beta male

Alpha female

Beta female

Omega male

Omega female

Again the amount of people that follow that believe is few, not enough to cause trouble in general but still annoying. The most affected are the ones that are raised in them.

As the parent have the right and obligations to take care of them, alphas have the most attention while the rest have the minimum necessary to avoid legal trouble, omegas (male and female) get married off to other families in exchange of money, land, ect, as they are considered better partners than betas females because of better fertility, strong maternal instinct, least problems in childbirth plus the sex in the Heat period is fabulous, this is pitifully legal as is the right of the family and the engagement is made early as possible.

Of course when they're old enough to go to school the alphas get their asses kicked for their behavior, betas too if they are arrogant enough to act like jerks, but if not they along with the omegas receive the help they need (therapy, better education, etc) as they are pretty much handicapped and denied access they need, lucky omegas without engagement can found love there and move out of their house, unlucky ones end in loveless marriage (sometimes very, very short marriages, omegas have really strong maternal instinct, hurt their children and they will tear your throat and that is their right to do).

Dimitrescu

The house is in charge of thee commerce and internal affairs also have a wine business. Alcina (beta) is the youngest of the family, she suffers for an illness that make her weak but not bedridden, Miranda is the only one that has enough medical knowledge to treat her so she have stay in the palace for long periods of time.

Her family is old and traditional, after the period of mourning they were bothering Miranda to remarry because the kingdom needs a strong powerful alpha or at least a level headed beta to reign. Not a emotional and weak omega, least an female omega but Miranda is a very capable queen and most of the other nobles considered her more than enough, she is smart, cunning and not weak at all, she is the caring and terrifying mother of the kingdom and she demands respect, so give her that or she could appoint someone that will. They stopped after hearing the subtle threat but they were scheming.

She is the only daughter, she has two brothers, one alpha that treat her as dirt and one omega that is trapped in his room learning how to be a good husband (he couldn't escape, he tried but his family power and influence was bigger), is not surprise that is the only one to treat her as family and in response she treat him as human ( is not a surprise that he dies by his hand not soon after she goes to school)

Alcina is a truly a noble woman and well educated thanks to living half of the time with Miranda, she is more capable than her brother's and the best option to be the heir of the dimitrescu house but of course her parents denied her so she settles with the winery her parents relent because they don't have a better option, plus her sickness make her unappealing to marry, so they hope when the heir have children they will take care of it.

Moreau

In charge of the medical knowledge and service, also being the closest to the ocean are in charge of the fishing and ships. Salvatore (beta) is a weird boy and only child, he is small an suffers from chronic pain but is extremely intelligent so that was enough to be a acceptable heir, at least until another child is born. Something that will take time as his parents are always deep in their studies neglecting him, just give him enough attention to study his illness, treating him as a lab rat more than a son. As is the case with alcina, he tends to be in the palace most of the time under the care of Miranda.

He sometimes stay in the lake fishing is very calming for him (not because there is a very attractive boy helping his fisherman father every weekend)

Heisenberg

In charge of the minery and metalurgy, Karl is the youngest of five brothers and the only omega, his siblings play fight with him and teach him how to throw a mean punch, his parents give him all the education he wants. He is a truly loved and spoiled child, also a genius but he is lazy as his brothers are the one with all the responsibilities, he sometimes go to the palace because is the place with the biggest library and he loves to Learn. He is always guarded by Urias his personal knight, a young hardworking man of humble origin as the only son of a fisherman (that looks too much at Salvatore direction).

Beneviento

In charge of the textiles, botany and woodwork. Donna (omega) have a elder sister, Claudia.

Donna is a considered a weird child, rarely make eye contact, dislike to be dirty and prefers to play with her dolls than with other kids (they make fun of her) can go long periods of time in silence and in general be creepy. Her family try to change it, but after screaming fighting and a accident that scarred half of the face of the little girl they resigned and let her be.

It helps that donna is a omega, actually very good at botany, woodwork and sewing. Plus she is not bad at accounting. All the things that will make her a perfect heir, if she was more social and well, normal like Claudia. So they think about it, and decide to keep Claudia as the heiress but donna will be the one working behind the counter. Both girls are fine with this, Claudia found the paperwork boring and donna hated dealing with people.

Meanwhile her family thinks of her as weird, they is still care for her, she will work in her father workstation making dolls that will be selled across the kingdom and learning about all the paperwork that she needs to keep things moving, she will have tea and botany lessons with her mother learning how to be a proper lady and she will read books and listen to Claudia gossip, she loves them very much as they are all what she had, and forgive them for the accident, is okay she is okay she loves them, she really does.

Because of the injury she was treated personally be Miranda and after she started the training of heiress she have to go to the palace more often.

Claudia marries young and have a daughter, she names her Angela, the baby was born with a mark in the half of her face similar to the Beneviento Crest, so little Angie was considered a lucky child. At first they thought donna will freak out with a baby as they were loud and dirty just to be surprised as the baby absolutely adore her, asking to be carried by her, crying if she wasn't close and pretty much being her favorite person in the world something that Donna reciprocated with an unbelievable fervor.

The lords

Alcina hates Karl for the fact that he could be a example of greatness from the omegas but he chooses mediocrity (a small part of her is happy, children deserve to be loved and be carefree)

He hates alcina because she is so stuck up and never haves fun (a small part of him worries for her, he knows the rumors, how much hurt she have? )

They argue every second of the day (he will cover her with a blanket in the days when he sees her sleeping in the desk) call each other awful names (she makes sure that the book he wants is in the library) they hate each other (they love and protect each other with ferocity).

Alcina is very patient with Salvatore and Donna, even so, she will scold Salvatore because he Is almost the same age as her and should be able to make things by himself, he should man up and stop being a coward ( she still will go and help him anyway and verbally destroy the idiots that bother him).

Donna is the youngest so she have a soft spot for her, even with her peculiar behavior she try to be very gentle when they are together.

Salvatore loves all his friends ( the closest thing to siblings that he have) and loves Venerable Mother Miranda too ( she is the only parent that he ever had)

He works hard in his studies to cure alcina illness (she tells him to think about him first, he never listen, he could live with the pain, alcina could have a bad relapse an die, he will never let that happen) to reduce the scarring of donna face (he knows that she hates it and a part of her hates her family too even if she said that she loves them, he knows that lie to well) and to make medicine more easy and cheap to access for the commoners. He doesn't like to play fight with karl but he always is healing him when his experiments blow at his face (sometimes literally) and tries to be a mediator in his fights with alcina.

Karl mocks Salvatore cowardly behavior but will and has punch people making fun of him and donna (alcina too but he will never admit it), he goes fishing in the weekends with Salvatore (and pretend to don't recognize Urias working with his father or the lovesick look in Salvatore face, ew gross) he sometimes work with donna in creating new toys or machines for woodworking/industry.

He show his scars with pride, he is stronger that what hurt him, he holds donna hand when stupid people make stupid comments and smile with full teeth and malice when alcina tears them apart (he could see the same smile in Donna)

Donna loves her friends, they don't make her feel bad and wrong, Karl keeps an towel and soap in his workroom specifically for her and don't laugh at her when she plays with her dolls (he will run and come back with his toys and they will play together even if they aren't in the right age anymore), She can talk for hours with Salvatore about the plants in medicine and hide together in the theaters to see the plays (alcina is the one that makes sure that they are unbothered) and rant when the treatment of their families gets to be too much (she loves them, she does), alcina teach her a lot of tricks to deal with people or at least make it bearable to do but alcina also have a bad temper and sometimes it will explode (alcina always do her best to stop and leave the room but in the rare occasions that she screams at donna she will buy her all kinds of gifts with a small pout in her face) donna forgives her (but she will not advise her about Karl latest prank, because she can be very petty) and will bring her baby niece to meet them (all have the "there is a cat in my lap so I can't move" problem when baby Angie decides she is to comfortable)

All of them adore little Eva too. Alcina wil have false tea partys, donna will make dolls personalized for her, Karl will teach her cool experiments (and run away from an angry alcina) and moreau will read fairytales at her.

The fall and rise of the houses

Some nobles work with the enemy kingdom behind Miranda back with promise of power and wealth, this lead to the killing of the all the dimitrescu except alcina and the destruction of the principal fabric of the Heisenberg along with the family except Karl, his mother and two brothers, one decide to enlist in the war and die in it.

Alcina ascend and take charge of dealing with all the damage make by her family, she will not betray the trust that the people, the queen (Her mother) put in her.

Direct war is happening again, but Miranda is a strategist they make her move now she is making hers, the head of the enemy king and all of his direct line is hanged outside of the palace, the second line take the power and proceed to make peace and alliance. Chris, the new king offer two candidates to marriage Ethan and Mia. The engagement is made but the matrimony is paused when a plague take place.

Moreau takes charge fast and create treatments faster, this is his responsibility this is were his talent lies, he will not fail.

The plague kills people of both Kingdoms, precautions are taken even so fatalities happen, the moreau being the ones in most contact die quickly, lady Heisenberg and the last brother of Karl die , lady beneviento, Claudia and her husband and donna herself get infected, after the death of his wife and eldest daughter the lord in agony kill himself, donna is still alive and she will fight to stay because there is a little girl waiting for her, she will keep breathing even if hurts and burns, she will not leave her.

Moreau is doing the best he can, some treatments work others not, things get worse when Eva is infected too. She doesn't survive. Miranda don't talk and she and Moreau keeps working, Donna keeps walking in the line of death and life. The last treatment works, she survives, the kingdom mourns.

Karl put all his focus in his work, there are too many things to do, he can't stop. ( if he stop he will break, he can't break, he can let alcina and moreau do all the work, he can't face the silence in his house)

The Queen works hard to deal with the damage, the people admire her strength, truly a devoted monarch, truly a chosen by the gods.

(She wanted to end everything the moment that Eva exhaled her last breath, first her parents then her beloved mate now her daughter, did she offend the gods? Did something that she did that she said was the reason of this agony?.)

She wanted to die but she still have children to take care, she is the queen, she is the Venerable Mother of this Kingdom and her children are hurting too, she will make things better, she had to.

#resident evil village #Au #re8 #mother miranda #alcina dimitrescu #salvatore moreau #karl heisenberg #donna beneviento #they deserved better #I said meanwhile proceed to hurt them #omegaverse

[grippingbeskar]

salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter one - a glimpse of the sun

[series masterlist]

frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 3.7k

warnings: graphic description of injuries, mentions of blood, allusion to torture/minor sa themes in the future (doesn’t actually happen)/unwanted advances, body checking, mention of seeing bones/starvation, mention of mental illness/panic attacks in future chapters, canon typical violence

a/n: this is a long time coming guys wow. i hope you guys enjoy this series, i cannot wait to get it all out there! let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gunshots woke you from sleep.

They were incessant; rattling off a clip every second, paired with bodies slumping onto the floor. You rolled over in the make shift bed, switching to put your right arm under your head, keeping your face off the cool metal that laid beneath instead of a mattress. Gunshots were normal in this place, but the amount of noises and shouts that went with them was making you antsy. Whatever was happening above you, it wasn’t the normal operations.

The chaos above your cell was growing louder, even with your elbow pressed tighter to the side of your head. The shots weren’t so much as being fired as they were let off. Automatic, probably an assault rifle. No time between reloads meant no taking aim, no care for who would get caught in the crossfire, just constant shots hitting as many bodies as possible. Usually, the base you were currently being stored in was full of gunshots, so that wasn’t what you were focusing on. You know there was executions, gangs like your captors did them all the time, but the automatic fire spraying the floors above you was out of the ordinary.

You didn’t give a shit - all those men could drop dead in the next second and you wouldn’t so much as shed a fucking tear, but someone needed to feed you. Or at the very least, let you out.

“Down here, Colonel.” A voice calls from the top of the stairs. You have no idea how far away they are, never seeing the outside of the four walls you’ve been shut into for the past three years hasn’t allowed for a whole lot of exploring, but he sounds closer than the gunshots. He also sounds ordered - footsteps in time with his partners, heavy boots beating down the concrete staircase. Heading down.

Down to you.

You were the only living thing down here; it’s been that way since you arrived. Sitting up, the chains around your wrists and ankles chatter on the ground, dragging and clicking as you get up and move to the back corner. You don’t recognise the voices, which is both good and bad.

Good, because maybe those assholes above you finally got what was coming to them, and a rival gang or the FBI or some shit had torn them apart. 

Bad, because new people meant new problems, and you were in no position to fight your way out of here. 

People were not good. Few as you had seen over the past three years, every single one wanted a piece of you. Whether it was to pull you apart, test you and cut you open, or to just watch you work, every single person that has come down those stairs had wanted something from you.

You know what you are, what you could offer people in this industry. You were lethal, and they wanted to glimpse the potential of new technology, to witness the dawn of a new age.

You looked at the bones protruding from your hands.

Some weapon you were anymore.

“Get me eyes on Castle. I need a clear exit after acquisition. And tell Bobby we are moving.” Another voice broke the quiet of your isolation. They were on the floor now, boots marching in time, coming down to the end of the hallway. 

You lifted your head that had dropped onto your knees, managing to squint your eyes in an attempt to see your visitors. You blink a couple times, the dehydration wracking your body so thoroughly even your eyes were dry. You see no faces - they weren’t close enough yet, just a dim orange light hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the long corridor that leads to the front of your cell, along with eight figures dressed in uniform. Camouflage uniforms.

Your heart, cold and hard as it is, lurches in your chest.

Were they army? Were they here for you? Fuck, could you dare to imagine? What if they were here to help-

“This is it?” A man steps forward, his nose turned upwards, and just by the tone of his voice, by the way he addresses you, all the hope dies as quickly as it came. “It’s... Christ, it’s half dead.”

Your head managed to hold itself upright despite the screaming in your muscles to crumple to the floor. You could see the bruises that never healed peppering your arms and legs, your eyes following his down your body. The dried blood you never bothered to wash off. You supposed you were half dead. With a few more weeks like this one, you would be dead.

The idea didn’t seem so scary anymore, but you couldn’t. Not just yet. Not when you knew what you were protecting. 

“They’ve been keeping it down here for years. With Castle and the FBI getting closer, though... No one’s been down in weeks. I’m surprised it’s still here.” The man, who is clearly the superior here, squats down in front of your cell. There was a time when men wouldn’t dare cross the faded yellow line in front of your door, but that was also a time when you could manage to keep yourself upright without the aid of the wall behind you.

The door swings open with little resistance, keys clanking to the ground, and the men step inside. 

The chains around your wrist cut into your skin as you strike forward, and just as fast as you moved they haul you back, slamming you into the concrete. You wouldn’t lay down and let them kill you. You wouldn’t let them circle around you like a zoo animal, not while you could still fight. The man seemed happy you had some fight left, a small smile appearing on his face as he stalked around to your right.

“It’s still under there, somewhere. We can fix it, in due time.” He takes another step forward.

“Sir, we aren’t supposed to...” He flicks his hand in a signal to cut off the uniform at the door. Reluctantly, the soldier bends down and hands the keys to his superior, and quickly steps back outside.

“Those look painful.” He remarks mockingly, squatting down again, in front of you this time. Just out of reach of the chains if you lept forward. He wasn’t afraid of you, but he also wasn’t stupid, it seemed. A shame. You had a sudden urge to know what his flesh felt like under your fingernails.

He lifts his head, looking down at the scars around your ankles. You couldn’t remember how many times they had healed over, only to be torn through again. 

“I can take them off, if you’d like.” You squint. Assessing. There’s always a catch with a guy like this. His military uniform is stacked full of medallions, tinkling together every time he shifted closer. You don’t move, don’t react as he pulls out a key.

“I know why you’re down here. I’d like to offer you something, if you can help me.” The gun shots still ring out upstairs, the sounds of men screaming echoing down the hall. “I’ll get right to it. I have some targets I need acquired. If you complete the job, I’ll give you exactly what you want. What these guys have been hanging in front of you for years.”

You suck in a breath - the most human thing you have done in what feels like years. The one thing you want, the reason you haven’t torn apart every single person that came down here. The reason you sit here, letting this man inch closer and closer, his bloody hand almost ghosting your wrist. The idea of him touching you makes you want to vomit, but you don’t move.

If he has what you want, you will endure. Endure him - men like him always gave in eventually. 

“That’s right. I have your brother.” The last of the water your body had retained spills out in a single tear that falls down your cheek. 

“The Gnuccis have my brother.”

“Not anymore.” A sick smile spreads across his features. His hand clamps down on your forearm, hard. He watches you for a reaction. You give him no such satisfaction. “Aquire the targets, and I’ll give him to you.”

“You expect me to believe someone like you-“ You look him up and down, just like he did to you. “-took on the most famous crime family in America. And pulled it off.” He smacks you across the face, blood flowing down your chin as the scars there reopen.

“I will give you back to them and kill the boy, if that’s what I please. Let them tear you apart a little more. Or maybe I’ll do it myself. I have a feeling I would like to hear you scream.” His hand slides a little higher on your forearm, and everything in you screams to run. To get as far away from the man as possible. The chains that tug on your ankles remind you that you can’t.

And that he holds the key.

He smiles, staring at you with cold eyes, waiting for your answer, or maybe for you to beg him not to hurt your brother. You would - if that’s what it would take, but you have no clue if this man is telling the truth. Your face hasn’t changed, and the man stands, going to head towards the door.

Everything starts to get very real, very fast, and you feel your body start to shake.

“Wait.” You croak out. You hadn’t heard your own voice in weeks, and it came out strangled and dry. He turned back around. The gunfire upstairs was still loud, and you knew in a few weeks, if you were left down here you would die alone, and no one would be left to fight for your brother. You shoved your pride, and your better judgement down, and answered. “I need time. I’m not - strong, like before.”

“You will have it.” He steps back into the room. “Food. Maybe even a room with a real bed.” The insinuation makes you nearly gag, and his hand was now grabbing your elbow. 

“How do I-” you have to cough, throat dry as you tried to make sense of the situation. “How do I know you aren’t lying?”

“You do as I say, you’ll get your proof eventually. Six months of service. Then you get what you are so desperate for.” He nearly laughs, and motions for you to bring your wrists forward so he can unlock them. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret. You don’t have much of a choice.” You hated that he was right. No one else was coming for you. You had nothing but this. You let him undo the cuffs.

You don’t get to enjoy the feeling of freedom for long, because one is replaced with another as he locks a thick, heavy, black cuff on your left arm. You only had a second of freedom before you were locked in again.

At least this one allowed you to move your arms. 

He left the right wrist free of cover, and unlocked your ankles, dropping the chains to the floor. You examined the new cuff, a green, blinking light intermittently flashing, so bright it made you squint. The man stands, throwing the keys back to the soldier at the door.

“If you go anywhere I dont tell you, it goes off. You do something I don’t like, it goes off. You look at me wrong, it goes off.” Goes off. In your head, you don’t think that would be the worst thing in the world. At least it would be fast.

You use both arms and push yourself onto your feet, but the movement is too fast for your weak body, and the man has to grab your arm to keep you from falling over. “Fucking hell. Joey, Sam - get it out of here.”

The two soldiers at the door grab you under each arm, and they move so fast your feet drag along the concrete. A faint beeping from your wrist draws your attention, and your head turns just as you pass the bottom of the stairs.

A door opens ahead of you, and all the sudden movements mixed with the bright lights of outside make you drift off into unconsciousness, but not before you catch a glimpse of a black vest and a man underneath it, a gun in each hand, and a white skull painted on his chest. 

You see his face, only just, with the light from the open door. It’s covered in blood, but you see it. You don’t know who it is, or why he’s shooting at the men carrying you out, but all you know is that someone else came. Maybe not for you, but they came.

They take you out through the open door, and you pass out before you can see the sky.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[two months later]

“Where should I put this next?” Frank slides the sharp tip of the knife past the mans jawline and down his neck, watching as he draws just enough blood to make him sweat. It drips down onto his chest, and he watches the man’s eyes widen as he panics.

“Man, I already told you! Th-they don’t tell us anything about that stuff!” He takes the knife off his neck, and lets the guy have a moment of relief before he slams it down into his thigh, all the way to the hilt. “Fuck!”

“You think I’m dumb, huh? Your boss has an armed assassin killin’ dozens of men all around New York, and you expect me to believe you boys know nothin’ about it?” He twists the knife to the right. He can feel the blood seeping out of the wound, and the man swears again, breathing ragged.

“Fuck - okay! I-I hardly know - God, I’ll tell you, okay! Just stop, please just st-st-” Blood was rushing out of his leg now, and Frank knew he only had a few more minutes before he bled out in the chair. He let go, swinging a leg over the chair opposite his captive; waiting for the answer to his question. “They don’t have a name for it. The Colonel sets it a target, and in 12 hours it brings back the head as proof. I don’t - I don’t know where they got it, or what it - is.”

“The head?” Frank Castle leans forward.

“That’s all that’s left. He got a call about some kind of weapon, and he…” The captives head - Sam, he thinks his name is, falls forward, and Frank shoves his chair out from under him and gets back up, using one hand to grab Sam’s jaw and force him to open his eyes. They nearly roll back in his head.

“Why is the Colonel using this thing to take hits? Isn’t that what you are for?” 

“We aren’t hitmen. The Colonel wants our hands clean, better for the organisation. Nothing leads back to us - to him.” Sam spits up blood, and Frank shakes his head in his hand.

“Focus.” For a second, the mans eyes open, and Frank knows what he’s thinking. He knows the look in his eyes - of a man who realises survival is no longer an option. “What is it?”

“Dunno.” He slurs, and Frank twists the knife out of his leg. He hardly flinches, and he knows he’s on borrowed time.

“Is it a machine? One of those super soldiers?” The man smiles, almost laughing in between gasps for air.

“Nothin’ that sweet.” His head lulls to the side, and Frank feels his pulse come to a stop under his hand. Shoving the dead body away, Frank grabs the rest of his shit and starts to head out of the garage he’d been stuck in for the past hour with that piece of shit.

The list of people that Sam guy had fucked up in the past few months was long enough to rival Frank’s, so he felt nothing as he closed the shutter door to he garage, leaving his body bloody and bruised.

Frank starts the van when he finally reaches it around the corner, resisting the urge to drive it straight down to where he knew this ‘Colonel’ had last been. The FBI were still crawling the scene, and Madani told him to stay clear until she could be sure what it was.

In truth, the FBI had no fucking clue. Whatever this thing was, it was fast, strong and lethal. In the past two months - ever since Frank had shot up the Gnucci crime families main operation building out in Washington - this killing machine had been attributed to over 2 dozen murders.

Not just any murders either. The crime scenes were intense, and nearly all the victims had been high profile criminals or corrupt officials. Frank hadn’t bothered to learn the names of the scumbags, but when Madani had called him in after the first hit, he took personal interest.

This ‘Colonel’, whoever he was, was using a fake title, one he shed no blood and made no sacrifices for, and recruiting any shit-for-brains asshole who walks off the street to form some kind of militia style army. These guys had been on Franks radar for a while, the growing organisation pissing him off in its blatant disrespect for real troops who actually put their life on the line to defend their country, not use a title and fake uniforms to commit petty crime and scare people into listening to them.

Then he saw them at the Gnucci base, and Madani had called him days later.

The Gnucci family was one of the biggest crime families in America, and if these guys were linked to them in any way, it could only be bad news. When Madani called, she let him know that the Colonel’s group, going by some dumb ass name like ‘New America’ had started to get a little traction, and their leader was surprising highly trained.

It had been that very day that they had successfully used the chaos Frank created above them, shooting up whoever he could catch with a bullet, to sneak out a highly valuable asset from the Gnucci basement. When he’d caught a glimpse of what they were sneaking out, he’d almost thought it was a girl, but that was impossible. They were talking about an asset - some kind of machine or something.

Frank drives west, and the sun starts to set as he heads toward what passes as his home these days. Life after Billy Russo, after sending Amy out to Florida was surprisingly… calm. Sure, he had just spent the day torturing a man in an abandoned car garage, but that was what constituted calm for Frank Castle. It had seemed like everything was settling, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling of being… alone.

He had a place in New York, a small apartment just above that diner he likes. He had a steady income, his phone never ceasing with calls from Madani now that she had worked her way up into the CIA, and every so often he chased his own leads. Call it penance - giving back to the city that has given him a second chance. That’s what he was doing now. Having a killer this efficient running around on the streets was bad enough, let alone if they were being controlled by a group as manipulative and warped as ‘New America’.

The stories he’d heard of their initiations, the way they spoke about people in their little online forums Frank had had the pleasure of scrolling through - it was almost therapeutic to be chasing these guys down and ripping them apart, and that wasn’t even starting on the kinds of things Madani had told him they’d been up to.

Frank pulls up to his place, a crappy looking apartment building just on the edge of the city. It’s probably a little worse than he could afford, but the idea of living somewhere nice, somewhere he would have to get comfortable, buy a new couch and all that shit. He doesn’t think he has it in him. So, he takes the stairs because the elevator doesn’t work, and jams the key into the lock.

Immediately, he knows somethings wrong. The key doesn’t turn the lock over, which means it was already unlocked. He never left his place unlocked.

Gripping the hand gun strapped to his belt, he waits a few seconds outside the door. His position is given away, whoever’s on the other side could be waiting, already aiming when he steps inside. He tries to listen but doesn’t hear any breathing.

He knows if someone walks around inside, he would be able to hear the creak of the shitty floorboards, and he might even be able to gage a location depending on where they step. He hears nothing, and slides the gun out of his holster, clicking off the safety.

In one motion he kicks the door open, gun trained straight, and takes cover behind the small island in the kitchen. He expects the shot to go off, maybe in warning, or a late reaction, but nothing does. He doesn’t hear…. anything. Taking a chance, he glances behind his shoulder, only an inch of his face exposed. He sees it.

Her.

“Frank Castle?” A voice calls from the opposite side of the apartment. It’s small, so when he turns around, still half behind cover, he can see the shitty excuse for a living room, and can also see, plain as day, the woman sitting on his couch.

“Who the fuck are you?” He watches as she gets up, the thick black cuff on her wrist flashing a green light.

“Are you-“ She looks down at the watch. “Frank Castle?” He stands, gun still trained on her in front of his face as she takes two steps forward. She couldn’t be older than mid twenties, and as she walks through the doorway leading to the front room, she doesn’t seem the least bit concerned that he’s got his gun aimed on her. “Are you?”

“Who’s askin’?” Her shoulders slump down slightly, and she sighs like he’s asking her about the weather.

“I’m taking that as a yes.” He watches her eyes as they squint in focus. She presses a button on her cuff, and it beeps twice. She takes a step forward. “The Colonel sends his regards.”

It’s the last thing he hears before she rips the gun away from his hand with almost inhuman speed, and he can hear the shatter of his right forearm as she crushes it with ease in just one hand.

[next chapter]

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x oc #the punisher x reader #the punisher x you #the punisher x y/n #frank castle fic #frank castle #the punisher #marvel tv #marvel

[nogenderbee]

HI I HOPE YOU'RE DOING FINE AND U ARE DRINKING ENOUGH WATER TOO AND GETTING REST CUS ILL BE COMING FOR YOUR ANKLES OTHERWISE >:(

So Could you write Mizuki , An and Shiho with an S/O that gets bullied for having Heterochromia eyes pls

If you don't know what Heterochromia is basically us when a person has a different colour in each eyes for example (left eye is blue and the other is yellow kinda like Candice from Genshin if you look at her eyes)

You are free to ignore this btw oh and PLS TAG ME IN NIGHTCORD FICS PLS

Omg no, not my ankles 😱 and I added you to TagList for all Nightcord member hehe~ anyway, of course I can write it! Honestly I absolutely loved the idea so I hope you enjoy this one as well! Funfact about me: I absolutely adore heterochromia and honestly wish I had it myself-

Shiho, An, Mizuki with heterochromic!reader who gets bullied

TagList: @bleachtheidiot @qxmmi @no1mizukifan

⊱ Shiho will take her guitar and smack the living crap out of the person that dares to make fun of you even slightly

⊱ alright but she literally doesn't understand why they're making fun of you when your eyes are literally so pretty

⊱ like she probably even wrote a song about them but she'll die faster than let anyone hear it

⊱ so when you tell her that you're getting bullied for that, she turns into her protective mode

⊱ I mean... you think all those creepy men aplroaciing Shizuku were going away because they got bored?! Pffft, Shiho secretly gave them a piece of her mind

⊱ she's literally ready to fight if it'll be necessary although looking at how many insults and good arguments she can make, they're most likely to just give up

⊱ she'll try to do it all secretly but if it's really bad then she won't be afraid of protecting your honor in front of you

⊱ but if she actually sowa it secretly and you ask her one day about it, she'll simply say that she has no idea what might be the reason

"Hm? They suddenly stopped making fun of your eyes? Well that's good, isn't it? No, it's not weird. I say you should just ignore them and live your normal life."

⊱ alright but you cannot tell me that An didn't gave you 100 compliments when she first saw you, like you didn't had to be lovers or even friends!

⊱ she thinks they're absolutely adorable and honestly, she's probably the type to stare into your eyes and then go like "Oh, sorry! I guess I got lost again~" or something alongisde that

⊱ so whens he discovers that someoen hates them, she get's hit by a confusion and then by pure annoyance

⊱ and she's up to talk with them now because no one will insult the pretties part of you which are your eyes! Not on her watch!

⊱ she's not really the type to beat up someone so she'll probably just have quite agressive chat with them and if they happen to go to Kamiyama High, then she can make sure they won't like it there anymore

⊱ if they're from another High tho, then she sitll has a lot of friends so she can try her best either way by threatning the person

⊱ if it doesn't work tho, she'll want to teach you how to respond when someone makes a comment like that

⊱ if they go as far as hurting you tho, she'll immidietly report it somewhere and obviously school or wherever she reported you is on your side yay!

⊱ of course she also gives you a lot of comfort after getting any comment and makes sure to throw some compliments here and there

"Don't worry about what they said too much... your eyes are so pretty! Of course they're unique and that's what makes them even more prettier! You think why I like to stare into your eyes so much?"

⊱ so Mizuki is quite similiar to An, they also noticed your eyes immidietly even if you two didn't knew each other but they didn't approached you

⊱ unless you noticed them, then they did just to tell you that they think they're pretty so you won't think they're secretly making fun of that

⊱ they also like to stare into your eyes but not for too long or too often and they don't make cheesy comment but smile and giggle instead

⊱ your heterochromia definitely makes it harder to pick outfit that matches perfectly for you but they also think it makes outfits look even more interesting so they absolutely love them!

⊱ so when they hear that someone maked fun of you for that, they have 3 feelings: confusion - because how can someone not notice how pretty they are?!!, sadness - because they can see how this unwelcomed comment made you feel, and anger - because how someone could insult their lover?!

⊱ they're also not the type to physically hurt someone but they surely won't mind ruining their reputation a little

⊱ and trust me when I say they're good at ruining someone's reputation in real life and even better in online if they put their heart into it

⊱ and once the person who made fun of you is no longer a danger, your lover act like nothing ever happened...

"Oh yeah! I heard some rumors about them! Strange, isn't it? Maybe that's why they were mean to you because they had their own problems! Of course it's not an excuse but I'm glad it's finally over~!"

❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉

#project sekai #colorful stage #project sekai colorful stage #x reader #project sekai x reader #colorful stage x reader #project sekai colorful stage x reader #shiho hinomori #an shiraishi #mizuki akiyama #shiho hinomori x reader #an shiraishi x reader #mizuki akiyama x reader #project sekai shiho hinomori #project sekai an shiraishi #project sekai mizuki akiyama #project sekai shiho x reader #project sekai an x reader #project sekai mizuki x reader #fluff #headcanons #project sekai fluff #project sekai headcanons

[olympeline]

You ever get struck with an idea for a multi-chapter, 100k+ word fic out of nowhere and you’re just: Damn, son, if only I had the free time to devote to bringing this word child into the world. It would be glorious

I was going about real life and I suddenly thought: #ScotFrUK #Enemies to Lovers #medieval kings and princes AU #Slow Burn #Angst With A Happy Ending. It would be so mmm *chef’s kiss* So good

Like, imagine it’s the early days of the Auld Alliance but it was much more of a big deal than in our world. To the extent that the king of France sends one of his sons to wed the Scottish king, Alasdair, to cement their pact against the English. Francis is reluctant, but obeys. Happily, he and Alasdair turn out to have what TV Tropes would call a Perfectly Arranged Marriage. A real opposites attract deal. They had to marry out of necessity, but soon neither would be with anyone else.

So, there’s the lovers. Where’s the enemy?

Arthur: 🫡

There we go. Arthur is a prince too. But, unlike Francis, he’s both an only child and the heir. Meanwhile Francis is a second or third son. Hence why he was sent away to wed sexy scotsmen instead of staying home to rule. Anyway, Arthur’s father is still alive, but old and sick and noone expects him to live much longer. Arthur comes back from leading England’s army on the continent and his Evil Uncle™ (who has been de facto king thanks to Arthur’s dad’s illness) immediately sends him north to Scotland. Deliberately misleading Arthur about the strength of Alasdair’s forces in the hopes of getting his nephew killed. Then Evil Uncle™ just has to wait for the old king to die and presto: England’s throne is his

So, Arthur and his men get fed some story about Scottish barbarians pillaging northern English villages and cross the border to try and break up this ragtag bandit hoard. Only to be met with the full force of the highlands army, led by the dreaded King Alasdair himself (gee, I wonder who could have tipped them off? Oh Evil Uncle™ you incorrigible scamp, you).

The English troops are badly outnumbered and are soon crushed and scattered. Those that aren’t killed are sent fleeing desperately for the border, Arthur among them. But he’s captured before he can get to safety and dragged before Alasdair. Arthur is smart enough not to reveal his true identity and manages to pass as a knight. Alasdair takes him back to his castle as a “gift” for his beloved Francis

See, despite their instant connection, Alasdair still worries life in the highlands isn’t enough for Francis. That his love will eventually tire of a life that’s more rugged and spartan than he’s used to. Tire and long to return to the rich splendour of France. Spoiler: he won’t. But Alasdair still worries and so gives his king consort a captive English manservant to torment. Hoping it will distract Francis from his (imagined) homesickness. Oh Alasdair, you silly soft headed twit. Francis doesn’t need distracting. Not when he has you ❤️

Either way, Arthur - still hiding his true identity - is presented to Francis. After that it’s the slow burn, enemies to lovers between all three of them. With plenty of ups and downs, and tension and drama (relationship and political) mixed in. Francis, still so in love with Alasdair, but sweating bullets over how attracted he is to Arthur. Alasdair, trying to quash his own attraction to their “guest” while also drowning in longheld feelings of inadequacy that are only getting worse. And Arthur wrestling with the guilt and self-loathing over the fact that he is indeed falling for his captors: the enemies of his people. Give me all that angst and drama and other good stuff! Pretty please

And pretty please also give me the eventual first sexy time. With royal husbands Alasdair and Francis seducing Arthur together, Arthur getting the full 👉👌👈 losing all his inhibitions, and loving every minute of it

Urggh. I want to write it. I really do. I shouldn’t, but I really, really want to

#hetalia #fruk #scotfra #scoteng #scotfruk #hws scotland #hws france #hws england #aph scotland #aph france #aph england #my posts

[kamyru]

Hmm, a bit cliche if Kaga's wife dies on duty. How about if she passed away due to illness? Something that he has no control over?

Hi, anon! At first, I thought that death due to illness was a topic out of my league because it requires medical knowledge, and it's hard to bring anything new that is not already used and overused. That's why it took me so long to do it. I had no idea how to write anything worth reading. However, once again, my experience as a med student helped me. And after seeing some dramatic cases at the hospitals, I finally found a good idea. Thank you for your wait, and I hope you'll like the result. Enjoy! ❤️ (As much as you can enjoy something like this)

If anyone has other angst requests, please, send them to me. 

TW: Death

"How did you continue living?" (Hyogo Kaga's life after MC's death) (Scenario)

Summary: The retired Public Safety Chief Hyogo Kaga did it: he continued living after his wife's death. Yet, only after his son-in-law was on the verge of repeating his fate, Kaga found enough strength to talk about his experience.

Words counting: 3277

"Captain Ishigami became a Chief faster than Captain Kaga. Does it mean that I have to always play by the rules if I want to achieve my dreams?" asked the little girl in front of Kaga. The man clicked his tongue. It was too late for such questions, way past the kid's sleeping time, and her parents wouldn't be happy after finding this out. However, he couldn't let the toddler go to sleep with the wrong conclusion in her head.

"No," Kaga said while taking the girl to her bed, "it means that if you want to go your way, you should be patient." The girl nodded understandingly. She let Kaga put her in her bed. He patted her head. "Good night, Brat."

However, after Kaga's words, the girl stood up on her butt and looked directly into his eyes. She had the same eyes as her mother, her grandmother, and her great-grandfather. The eyes that Kaga missed like hell, even if he had seen them daily for more than half of his life.

"I won't sleep if you talk to me like this!"

Kaga could remember how MC was being pouty and childish too. Yet, with a sarcastic remark, he would make her stop. He indulged her from time to time. But he couldn't be the same with this little girl. She had him around her tiny pinky. He would indulge in anything she wanted.

"Good night, Puppy," said the man who once made all the rookies and seniors from Public Safety shiver. He kissed the girl's forehead and booped her nose. A chuckle echoed around the room and got right into the man's heart. He smiled and kissed the girl again.

When the retired Chief Kaga turned his head, he met the eyes of the person he had waited for the most. His heart beat hard against his ribcage, as it did a few hours ago when he got the news over the phone and was asked to babysit his granddaughter.

"How is my daughter?" Kaga whispered once both men were in another room.

"She and the baby are stable. They did it. They did it!"

The younger man looked at Kaga. He was once so afraid of his father-in-law that when he asked Baby Kaga to marry him, he was ready to take her last name. How could he compete with the strength and importance of the name "Kaga" after the ones who had it became such important parts of society?

"Of course, they did it. They are my daughter and grandson. There was no way they wouldn't," Kaga said, even if he was aware of the tremble in his voice. But he wouldn't be himself if he acknowledged that he was scared. The man who worked for more than half of his life in Public Safety, the man who saw death more than smiles, the man who saw his most precious person die in front of his eyes didn't have the luxury to feel fear. Or that was what he thought until his son-in-law called him to tell him that his daughter had complications while giving birth to his grandson, and they both were on the verge of dying. But it didn't matter now that they were alive.

"While I waited in the hospital, every scenario in which my wife died ran through my head. And in every single one, I knew I wouldn't be able to live without her," the younger man confessed. He could finally cry. He didn't care that his fierce father-in-law was in front of him. No. Now, in front of him was the man who lost his wife and continued living, the best person to listen to his fears and understand him. Slowly, hot tears ran down his cheeks. He took his head in his hands and started to sob as silently as possible, not to wake up his older daughter. Kaga worked long enough in Public Safety to know what the man would say. So, to end his suffering, he put a hand on his son-in-law's shoulder. "How did you do it? How did you continue living after your wife's death?"

Kaga looked at the man with one of his expressions that used to make the cadets faint in fear. Yet, only for a second. Because his fast thinking made him understand that the man didn't bring this topic to hurt him, but due to the experience of nearly losing his wife. Looking at the ceiling, Hyogo Kaga, for the first time in his life, finally decided to talk about the time when his wife was slowly dying in front of his eyes. The younger man did one of the most courageous things: he confronted Chief Hyogo Kaga about a subject no one had enough guts to do.

"My daughter once said that I am the reason her mother died," Hyogo Kaga started his story. The expression on his son-in-law's face changed. There was no way she could say anything like this! She adored her father to death. What the hell was going on?

"During our first years together, I have never told MC how much I loved her. Probably, one of her favorite times I admitted my love for her was when she lost her memory. It was a genuine and desperate "I love you." She had never admitted it, but I think it was more important for her than even the vows we made at our wedding. The next time I was as desperate and sincere was after she was diagnosed with dilated cardiomyopathy.

I remember yelling at MC for losing the suspect two times in a row. She couldn't keep up with them because she felt unusually tired and fatigued. The third time, she caught them but fainted right in front of me. While waiting for the results, I was on the verge of yelling at her for not taking enough care of her when she returned to work after giving birth to our daughter. She didn't take enough time to get back in shape. However, it didn't happen. A year after the happiest day in our lives, the slow destruction of my life started. It didn't have anything to do with being out of shape. She was diagnosed with dilated cardiomyopathy that was so severe that the blood regurgitated literally everywhere. Her prognostic was, at most, five years.

My wife laughed in front of the doctor. While I couldn't hear anything because of the loud "death" that left the doctor's lips minutes ago, she was laughing, thinking it wasn't true. It didn't take MC a lot to convince me we had nothing to worry about. She would run some tests at other clinics and show everyone that she would live a long and happy life.

Working for Public Safety had never been the best choice a person could make. It takes your life and happiness, making a robot out of you. I had always wondered how my wife remained as optimistic as in the beginning when I met her at the Public Safety Academy.

Can you imagine? MC was only twenty-five when I met her. She was six years younger than me. And such a beauty. I regret not telling her how hot she was back then. It was hard to impress me. I fucked around like a dog in heat. But the moment I started working with her, she became prettier by every minute. I could watch her for hours, and at the end of each day, I was more in love than at the beginning. I have no idea what she saw in me. I was the typical red flag that you have to avoid.

The first time I kissed her, I didn't want to end it because I knew all my love for her was written on my face. It was obvious, even for someone as oblivious as her. And I could kiss her for hours without getting bored.

We worked in a man-dominated field. People used to tell me that I was popular and attractive. But I have never had what MC had: her alluring character that could melt anyone with its naivety and kindness. I can assure you that even the detectives who are now married and with kids used to have a crush on her during her cadet and rookie days. And she chose me! MC CHOSE ME TO BE HER HUSBAND!

It wasn't long from the moment she accepted to be Mrs. Kaga till the day she gave birth to our daughter. She worked till her last week of pregnancy, even if she was swollen and tired. There was no way to convince her to give up. She worked in the field till her third trimester. That woman was strong. So, I knew that everything was over when after the fifth doctor, she decided to retire because she heard the same diagnosis. We finally made it to the best cardiologist in the country that operated the VIPs with the deadliest diseases. I still remember his name - Dr. Toshiki Kasumi. And he said the same damn thing! He took me away and told me everything again.

Everything was so bad that instead of pumping the blood through her blood vessels, it was everywhere in her heart and above. Her color Doppler ultrasound results were one of the worst he had ever seen. She had complications in the liver. Some medications could make her live for at most five years. Her only chance was to get a heart transplant. But there was a tiny chance for one. Due to the unknown origins, the disease could install again even with a new heart.

I got so mad that I punched the man in the face without thinking twice. They needed two other doctors to stop me from giving him another punch. He even had to have stitches above his brows. I saw him with his grandchildren a few years ago, and he still had the scar. I think it's a miracle that he didn't sue me.

But MC didn't live for five years. Do you know why my daughter and her son survived today? Because they inherited MC's blood. She was a fighter. She lived for seven years. But I couldn't know it when Dr. Kasumi told me her diagnosis. So, I decided to give her the best years of her life. I didn't think about it at first. It occurred to me only when she went to the Chief and told him that she would retire. I was sure I wouldn't cry till my last day. However, the day she retired, I was crying in her lap so hard that I woke up our baby who was only one-year-old back then. All of us cried together, not caring that anyone could hear us.

The first thing we did together was to go on a double date with my former colleague - Ishigami. I can admit now that we are friends, especially after he let us live with him and his family for a while after MC's death because he was afraid I would lose my mind alone. But back then, we were worse than a cat and a dog. We hated each other and were ready to fight over insignificant things. However, our wives had always been friends. Why am I saying this when you know my daughter thinks of Mrs. Ishigami as her aunt? I have no idea what we did back then, but a photo of her smiling during that date used to be my wallpaper for years.

One year after her diagnosis, MC adopted a cat, the one that died before your wedding. I used to hate that cat so much, especially because she was very protective of MC, and sometimes we were fighting to get her attention. There were a lot of videos on my wife's phone of me yelling at the cat and her meowing back at me. I can bet that my daughter showed you at least one.

Then, I came home and nearly had a heart attack when a puppy howled in the living room. It was the last time I heard that puppy howl. Unfortunately, he wasn't in the best health and died the same day as MC's funeral. When I saw him dead, I was the one howling. But thanks to these two, I have my favorite photo ever: the family one where all five of us are together that I keep on my nightstand.

At first, we even visited a few countries and traveled around Japan. Later, the doctor forbade her to do it. I had to find other ways to make her happy. And I found out that I was more creative than I gave myself credit. I have never shown it to anyone, not even my daughter, but I have an entire album of photos from our dates. I have photos of us eating food bought for us by one of my former colleagues that probably had dead taste buds. I have photos of us playing with the puppies in the shelter. I have photos of us dancing in the rain. I have photos of the sand castles we did together. MC wanted me to remember how beautiful she was. And you can't even imagine how pretty she was. I have met only one person who could compete with her at this - my daughter. Give your daughter a few more years. She will also be the most beautiful young woman you have ever met. That runs in their blood. Be careful because she would make boys crazy. But she would be strong herself. Damn, I even have photos from my wife's nude photoshoot.

Doctors say that MC probably didn't know what was going to happen. But I am more than sure that she knew she was going to die that day. I had forgotten my bento at home, and she decided to bring it to me. She said that she wanted to see everyone working again. I didn't tell anyone that MC was coming. They were going to make too much of a fuss. But they did anyway. Detectives were returning from fieldwork to chat with her. I was so jealous and happy at the same time because she was so loved, but she was still mine. When MC finally gave me the bento, she pressed her forehead against my chest and told me to hold her for a few seconds because she wasn't feeling well. The next second… The next second she went limp in my hands. I don't believe she didn't know what was going to happen. MC didn't want our daughter to see her dying, to be the one to call me and tell me that mom didn't respond anymore. So, she went where everything started. She went to the place that made her heart a bit faster and let her heart stop.

I don't remember the first period after her death. I know that Ishigami dragged me and the kid to live with him. I couldn't cook, look after me, or after my daughter. I was hopeless and needed help because, after more than ten years of living for MC, I didn't know how to live without the meaning of my life. What made me breathe again were my daughter's words: "It is your fault mom died."

And she was right. While MC was still a student, she got dragged into my dirty business. I had never been enough to protect her. Why did she even marry me? She was so out of my league and still chose to live with me and for me. Why was I luckier than her?

However, these words were powerful enough to wake me up. I knew that I had to do something for my daughter, for the most important memory my wife had left. I couldn't betray her as I did with the love of my life.

She wasn't a problem kid, not when she ran away from school, nor even when she got into fights with her classmates. It was me who was a bad parent. In my grief, I sometimes forgot that it was hard for her too. Her mom was a stay-at-home mom after she retired and suddenly died after they spent so much time together. How could I be so blind and not see that she was suffering too?

So, I tried to cook vegetables I had hated my entire life. I let her sleep with me in the same bed because she used to cuddle with her mother. I asked my female colleagues about girly girls' things, but I was still off because my daughter grew up a tomboy. She was so like her mother: kind and thoughtful, sometimes naive.

Can you imagine that my daughter used to run away from school to take care of the dogs from the shelters? How could I tell her she was wrong, even if her marks got lower? When one of my colleagues mentioned that I had forgotten my bento at home, she came to the other side of Tokyo, all alone, to give me her bento. She didn't go on most of her school trips because she didn't want to leave me alone in the house which reminded me of my wife, of her mother whom she also missed. I didn't deserve her like I didn't deserve my wife. That's why I was so skeptical when she brought you home to meet me. I was afraid she had inherited her mother's poor taste in partners. But she inherited mine. Thank you."

Kaga didn't care that his tears ran down his cheeks for more than half of his speech. His son-in-law was even worse. The man was sobbing, even if he didn't meet his mother-in-law. He was more than sure that she was a fantastic person, considering how much Hyogo Kaga himself loved her and how fantastic her daughter was.

"Do you know why we want to name our son after you?" the younger man finally talked after calming himself a little.

Hyogo's brows raised. It was for the first time he heard it. It made perfect sense that his granddaughter's name was inspired by his wife's. Yet, he couldn't understand why his daughter and her husband wanted their son to use his kanji for his name.

"We want to do it because you always had enough time for your daughter even after becoming a Chief. You explained to her what period was and had never been grossed out by this. You told her stories inspired by your work to help her fall asleep because you thought it would be strange for her to hear about princesses with your harsh voice. You made sure your cat was happy and healthy even if you hated each other. You have her photos all around your house even if you think it's cringe. You always made it to her events in school. You support everyone around you and are the kindest person I have ever met. You are the father that everyone dreams about."

A sad grin appeared on Kaga's face.

"I did the bare minimum."

The detective's son-in-law shook his head.

"You are the best, Grandpa," a tired voice whispered from around the corner. None of the adults knew how long the little girl was there, but both knew it was time to tell her more about her grandmother.

"We are going to visit Mom tomorrow?"

"We are going to visit Mom tomorrow," said both men and hugged the little treasure in front of them that gave them enough strength to smile through tears.

#her love in the force #hyogo kaga #voltage inc #asks

[gillianthecat]

GAP — episode 2

It seems like my GAP reactions have become the space in which I wax philosophical about various matters political and personal. But it's an excellent show nonetheless, I'm starting to really like it!

below the cut are my thoughts while watching:

- So does Sam know that she has a crush and is flirting like mad? I honestly can't tell how self-aware she is.

- Sam's friends! I love them all already. I appreciate that this show is populating Sam's world with interesting queer women. It feels like they've studied the boys' shows and are applying all the lessons carefully and skipping over a lot of the growing pains. So if Sam already knows she's queer, maybe she does realize she has a crush, she's certainly waiting by the phone anxiously. Then again, she seems not very in touch with her feelings in general.

- Ok. I hate grandmother. I love both the sisters. And Freen is great at portraying the two versions of Sam—young, open and vulnerable, and grown up, hard and walled off.

- On the one hand, I’m guessing that Sam just wants an excuse to keep bringing Mon into her office. Which is adorable. On the other hand, I’m having to actively work to not get annoyed at how bad a boss Sam is being. Not so much the meanness, that I can handle, but at how unskillful she is at it. Just telling your employee (who is brand new to the office and to the working world in general!) "change it" and "it doesn’t wow me" without giving any specifics? That is not the way to get the results you want with any efficiency. On the third hand, I am relieved not to hear them rambling on about "influencers" and marketing." So possibly a win overall. And their dynamic is great.

- And Mon called her out for it it! Bless you, darling. Sam tried to pull that boss bullshit are you just lazy? thing, but at least I know the show isn't ignoring it. And that is enough for me to be content, I think.

- I think I may actually really like this show? I was going to watch it regardless as long as it wasn't completely terrible (and I made it all the way through fahlanruk, so clearly my tolerance for terrible is high) just to a) support Thai GL, and b) see what they would do, but it's turning out to be very good. A solid story, good characters, lots of really good details, and it feels genuinely queer. I'm so pleased.

- The one sticking point for me is the whole influencer social media thing, but thinking about it, I can see how that was the best choice. If they want to make a billionaire romance with a cruel boss and and an ingenue employee, which I fully support because it's a genre with a lot of delicious potential, especially when made lesbian (I have no interest billionaire romance when done straight á la Fifty Shades of Gray, but love it when it's played with in some way) then they need a company for the billionaire to run. And they need to find something that a) could realistically become profitable in this day and age, b) Lady Sam could plausibly be passionate about, because the tension between her love for running a business and grandmother's pressure on her to live a traditional heterosexual life is crucial to the story they're telling, and c) feels cool and hip to fit the aesthetic of the show. So it can't be a paper company or something boring, and advertisers have always been the sexy creatives of the business world. "Content Creators" aren't as interesting, but they are more modern and more plausible as a start up business. And so while social media marketing still makes me recoil, and I honestly think is responsible for a lot of ills in this world,* I do understand their reasoning and I think that will allow me to tolerate and ignore it. I just hope Sam learns how to be an effective boss at some point along the way too!

*I didn't find Mad Men's ad agency setting off-putting in the same way. Perhaps because the creativity is more obvious in what they were doing, perhaps because it was all set in the past so it had that nostalgic fascination rather than watching people work at something that is actively making the world and my own life worse today. Not that advertising in the 60's didn't do a shit ton of harm to the world that continues to fuck over the planet. But I don't personally feel it as viscerally. Plus I think there is less creativity in the sort of content creation that Lady Sam's company seems to be doing, although to be honest the whole show is keeping it all pretty vague for now.

- Tangent over. I love how full of queer women this show is! It's not just the main couple, it's both of Sam's sisters, probably all of her friends, and even the villain and/or faen fatale! The only heterosexual couple (besides the parents) were kicked off the show in the first half an hour, in a loss for workers' rights but a victory for gay rights. And the only confirmed straight guy is Mon's creepy friendzoned neighbor, who is all but discarded. (Kirk may be straight, but it's not confirmed yet.)

- Speaking of which, I'm kind of excited to see what this villainous woman is going to do.

- I suspect most people associate Heng with Sky and expect him to be good, but my strongest association is with his character from War of Y so I keep waiting for him to be at least mildly evil.

- I actually really appreciate that this migraine is a situation in which taking medicine actually makes sense to me. Characters in Thai shows keep taking medicines for ailments that don't seem fixable with medicine and it always slightly annoys me. I don't know if that's part of the general Thai approach to health, or if it's just a shorthand for caretaking that dramas have developed, but it is so different from my approach.

- Oh how tender. Her head on her lap. I like this rendition of the caretaking trope. It uses the tropes, but puts its own spin on it to make it feel interesting and real.

- (I feel like I had that shirt pattern as wallpaper as a child. I'm not knocking Mon's outfit, I love her workwear style! But it definitely has a late eighties/early nineties vibe, especially combined with the oversized blazer in that shade of pink.)

- I love how even half asleep and knocked out with pain and drugs Sam (pardon me, Hon. Lady Sam) is still bossy and prickly and rude.

- Sleepy taxi head to shoulder slide my beloved! (I don't know what to call this trope, but it's always a good one.)

- I don't think I've ever seen That Fucking House 1.0 from the street before. I always pictured it somewhere more suburban and quiet.

- I love their dynamic so much! And I'm glad that Mon is getting the stars knocked out of her eyes—it makes for a much more interesting story (and a healthier relationship) if she has to fall back in love with the real Sam, rather than coasting on hero worship.

- Omg, I adore prickly bossy Sam. She is so cat coded. Be polite. Why are you so formal. Text me. Why are you texting me, you should call. Why are you calling me. 😸 I thought maybe it was because I'd just watched Choco Milk Shake so I'm imagining cats everywhere. But no. Mon really is another cat. I love her. And just like Milk, she is totally confused by her feelings and has no idea how to act around her crush. She sure sat up quick though 😹

- Oh Mon baby. My darling. How heartbreaking to find out that your idol, your forever crush, is not the person you thought she was. That she's actually mean and rude and confusing and is a terrible boss. And you're just trying to be a good employee but you have no idea what she wants from you. Oh my darling.

- Oh my god, Sam has zero social skills. I mean, it makes sense why, but she is a disaster. Mon is doing a great job of telling her when she's being hurtful or confusing, and every time Sam doubles down on acting like an asshole. Sigh. I still love her though.

- I am glad that Mon has the spine to keep standing up to her. Otherwise their relationship would be doomed and hard to root for. She does it kindly, but clearly and with a strong sense of her own rights and needs as a person. That's hard to do for any brand new intern to their powerful asshole boss, let alone one who's been nursing a hero worship crush for over a decade.

- Oof this scene! Mon kneeling as Sam walks by glammed up with sunglasses on, and completely ignores her.

- I do like this accountant. And I'm inclined toward Kirk. No matter what his role ends up being. I appreciate his rich boy charm here.

- Omg. Of course she hand delivers the snack to Mon. In the rudest, most awkward manner possible. My favorite feral cat. And yes. The battle of wills has begun. ngl, I was nervous about the whole hero worship angle last week, but they're crushing that underfoot quite nicely.

- Does Kirk know about her crush? Maybe even before she does, lol. Also I'm so relieved that Sam has all these friends who tease her when she's got a stick up her ass and treat her like a human being and also genuinely care for her.

- What a spiky kitty cat. Calm your fur, girl.

- This courtship is going to be amazing. I'm so excited to watch Sam flailing around trying and failing to act like a human around Mon. Kirk is all of us in his reactions. 😹

- Date date date! Wingmanned by the fiancé! Which, honestly is necessary at this point. They cannot handle being alone together yet.

- Jesus Christ Sam. You are the embodiment of that Get out of my school meme. I cannot believe the things coming out of your mouth.

- Oh no. Kitty cat, sweetheart, you're going to burn off the roof of your mouth. Stop trying to act cool in front of your crush. Mon's face 😂

- Lol. Well she fooled all of us. I guess she really is cool after all.

- Look at them! Managing to have an almost civil conversation! I'm liking this Kirk-Mon allyship that's developing. I don't know if it will withstand the pressure of the angst to come, but it's something Mon, and their developing relationship, need right now.

- Cat cat cat! She is such a cat. She refuses to look at Mon even though 100% of her attention is focused on her right now 😸 ooh and the boyfriend comment made her gruum-py!

- I can't tell what Kirk knows (I can't even tell what Sam and Mon know about themselves at this point) but I love him for playfully calling out Sam about posing on her car 😸

- Damn! Sam is already asking who Mon is sleeping with. My beloved ill mannered alley cat. And she's so proud of her little joke 😸

- Aw. Mon's crush is back and she is giddy with it. And what an ending moment.

I'm excited about this show now. They're doing so many things right! The story seems solid and well structured, a good base to carry the relationship through to the end. And I feel like they're hitting the right balance for Mon and Sam's dynamic. Sam is spiking and mean and awkward, and a terrible boss, but we also see her with her friends so we know that she can take teasing and be human sometimes, and that she has people in her life that love her. She's mean enough to build that delicious tension, but vulnerable enough that I can see why Mon likes her, and I don't feel like I need to yell at her to run away. And Mon has a good balance between being open and awestruck, while still having the backbone to stand up to her hero. It reassures me that their relationship is going to feel equal, not like a creepy boss taking advantage of her employee. Those sorts of extreme power dynamics are not what I'm looking for in a story; what I like about subverted billionaire romance is seeing how the characters manage the power dynamics in order to have a real relationship.

Based on the trailer and the grandmother's everything, I'm pretty sure this series is going to get angsty and sad. But given the nuance with which they've been treating the characters so far, I trust them to handle it well.

#gap the series #gillianthecat reacts to gl #kind of like liveblogging #gap the series ep 2 #office settting ql

[bsdthings]

ALSO!! If it’s not too much to ask?? Can we get Chuuya x male!Reader story based of a Halsey song?? I feel like “Is There Somewhere” would fit well for an angsty one 😼

You don’t have to do both my requests!! And as always please feel free to ask me for something in return, I need BSD requests haha

Thank you so much for the song! I love Halsey and I truly didn't know this song and it's such a shame! Honestly, I craved some angst, so really, thank you very much! It was such a pleasure writing this one

,Chuuya Nakahara

Chuuya x male!Reader

Genres: ☣️ angst ☣️, 😭sad😭

Warnings: blood, violence, illness, childhood friends, friends to lovers, heartbreak, anger, open ending

I truly hope you will enjoy this one! I admit to making it quite personal >~< btw, I'm so sorry for the long time and how hurried this probably feels T-T

There are some things in this life Chuuya truly wonders if he could have done better. They keep him awake at night don't give him any peace, ghosts of his past ready to haunt him at any given moment, make that lump of heavy guilt form at the base of his throat, suffocating. Because he knows he didn't make the best choices, he knows he should've done better in some contexts, knows he could have done better. And yet, he didn't. And he lost. Oh, he's lost so much. He's lost his friends with a betrayal in the stab of his back when he was with the Sheep. He lost many men in his years of being with the Port Mafia and will continue to lose even more of them, but somehow, he hopes to reduce the numbers, to make it as small as possible. He lost a lot. People kept on leaving him and he kept on being the second choice for so many. And as much as it hurt, to never be enough, to never be capable of being the first choice in someone's life, to never be able of making someone stay and not go...it was even more hurtful to know you could have been the first choice for someone if you would've stuck to them. If you stuck around just a bit more, knowing you were already the first choice for someone at some point and yet you dared let go.

Maybe that's the biggest problem. How does he even dare to complain about always being the second choice for the ones in his life when he, himself, has deprived his own self of being the first choice, the first go-to in someone's life. When he's let that go, when he dared to let such a precious thing go, slip right between his goddamn fingers...

How does he dare when he let go of you?

Tonight, as many other nights, it haunts him. The thought of you, of your crooked smile, of the lines forming at your sparkling eyes and the way you used to hold onto him so dearly. The days when he actually felt like your first choice. Those days he carelessly let go of without even realizing how much he's willing to lose for something so little to gain. Because as far as he's got, just as lonely he feels compared to those days when he used to feel so alive, happiness overwhelming. Yet, he feels like he took it for granted, now that he thinks about it, when he remembers those good, old days.

It's been 10 years. It feels like it's been an eternity, another life even. Those days when he used to be so happy and just lived in the moment.

If he could, he would turn back time, give all his Port Mafia years, his rank, his wealth, everything just to get to feel those moments again with you. To have you again in his life.

But he pushed you, didn't he? Now, curled up in his own bed, his red curls touching the skin of his shoulders and back, he lets the growing guilt in his gut swallow him up as he wraps his arms around his knees. How could he do that to you?

You were his first friend. Now that he thinks better of it, you're probably also the only true friend he's ever had.

It almost makes him smile, if he is to be honest. The way he could've have had everything he ever wished for yet he let it slip right between his fingers.

That's the worst feeling ever. To know you were so close to having what you want, to know you had it, to just know and yet, to let it go.

Because when he woke up existing with no memories whatsoever, with nobody to care about him, with no home nor how to make a living for himself, you were there. When he didn't feel human at all, you were there. You just were there, patient and understanding and right by his side. Because you taught him how to read and write, because you were right by his side.

And yet, when the Sheep formed, he cut every string and gone away to find meaning in his life, to find a way to support himself and not depend on you anymore for a living. Or, better said, he was quite forced to do so. Your parents despised him right from the start, found you to be too high for his low self, for a child of the streets, with nobody, with nothing, no family, no home. Your parents had bigger hopes for you, for your future, for your circle of friends, and they weren't even trying to be discreet about it, about how low they saw Chuuya.

But every living skill he had was because of you. From cooking meals together while hiding from your parents to the way he was able to pick up on books and poetry, everything he started in life with was something that connected him to you.

He thinks about you often. About the boy with a big kind smile and the warmest of hugs. About the boy with crinkling sparkles in his eyes and uncaring of the dirt and ripped clothes he owned, giving him new ones and the chance to take a bath, something so basic, so small, yet so important, with the heaviness of the whole world. He still remembers so clearly the way you grinned at even the smallest difference of height between the two of you, saying it's perfect because this way you can keep on giving him clothes and always having that warm tone when you said "Don't grow up too much, Chuu, or I won't be able to give you my clothes anymore".

It was so stupid. Yet, it meant the world to him. And he knew where you are, knew you moved to Tokyo seeking out better studies because you were so smart and indeed deserved more than his nothing ass. He knew you're doing good and knew you're achieving so much and his heart squeezed in his chest, proud of you, so proud of you, yet at the same time hurting so bad, because he's not by your side anymore, because he's not a part of your life anymore, but a mere stranger of your past with memories, not daring to enter your life again after so many years, after disappearing without a world, after just disappearing from your life. Because years passed and you're doing so good, because you're probably not even gonna come back to Yokohama anymore, because, after all, why would you even come back to this port city when you've seen the big streets of Tokyo and made friends and made a place for yourself somewhere else, somewhere where your talents will be appreciated?

It hurts. It hurts so bad to know that he could've been by your side and congratulate you on your absolving, on the take of your first job, on getting into University. Knowing he could've lived those moments with you just if he would have hold on a bit tighter instead of letting go.

His phone pings with a notification and he's almost ready to curse anyone daring to bother him at such an hour, but-

But his eyes widen as he sees your name. Y/N started following you.

It makes his heart thud. How did you find him? How could you even remember him after so many years have passed? How-

"Is there somewhere you could meet me?" he wakes up with the message from you so suddenly.

He didn't expect that, if he is to be honest. Didn't expect you to even remember him, what more to say about you even having the slightest wish of meeting with him or talking with him? After all, he left you without a word. But he can't help but cling to that small bit of hope building up within himself.

I'd come to the end of the earth just to meet you, he thinks to himself.

"I'm back in Yokohama. I know it's late, but..."

Fuck the hour, he can't help but think to himself. Honestly, as if it has any meaning when you're back, when you want to meet him. It feels like a dream, if he is to be honest.

"Where you're at? I'll come pick you up" he fastly responds to your text, his fingers trembling a bit, heart thundering in his chest.

The moment your adress is sent to him, he doesn't hesitate to hastily put on some clothes and get the keys to his bike, fastly moving through the not so busy streets of the port city to get to you.

He almost worries he didn't make it in time back to you or that it was actually just something made up by his mind when he looks around and you seem to be nowhere—

And then there's this boy, with a reserved smile and a raised hand, and he recognizes the colour of your hair, recognizes your eyes, even if more mature, recognizes you, and you've changed so much, and his heart thuds so loudly he's afraid you'll hear it too.

He doesn't even know what to say, what to do with himself, his fingers aching to touch you, to caress you, the one person who's showed him so much and gave him so much without asking for anything in exchange. The one who taught him kindness, a type of kindness he most often than not cannot show, cannot give away existing in him, not in his fielt of work.

Someone he thought he'll never have the chance to see again.

"Chuuya!" and your sparkling eyes, the way your arms suddenly wrap around him, warm and comforting and he missed it so much, the hugs, the contant, the care.

He couldn't even help himself. He couldn't hold back the way his arms wrapped tightly around you, the way fear coursed through him at the simple idea of losing you forever, of everything being nothing more but a simple play of his restless mind, of you letting go of him forever. But you were warm and solid against him. He just couldn't let go.

It's the days that follow. It's the staying at the early hours of the morning on the highest building in Yokohama, dancing to stupid music like two stupid people.

It's making memories, it's the soft admission of never being able to stay in the rain because you would oftenly catch a cold, your frail body unable to battle it with ease.

It's the wide smile, the crooked teeth, the almost slipping on wet paves and him catching you before anything could happen, his senses so used to you they become reflexes. The reflex of catching you.

It's the falling, the shocked giggles when Chuuya admits to being able to control gravity and the way you scream of being like Peter Pan as he lets you float, for once in your life feeling weightless.

It's the stupid bento box you run through literal storm to deliver to him because he might be hungry.

They all catch up to him and he cannot help the heaviness in his heart as the memories tumble in one after another.

"Why did you come to Yokohama?"

It's the small tattoos you two decided to share on your wrists, matching and now making him feel heavier than he's ever felt, his hand clutching yours, way too pale, the other moving gentle fingers through your messy hair.

"I wanted to see you before my time ended"

It seemed ridiculous to him at the time. Ridiculous to think of the deepness of those words. Ridiculous to think of a world without you, ridiculous to think your lungs might not take another breath.

It's the rage burning in his veins when you ended up in the hospital because you were robbed and fell to the ground, your frail knees unable to support your body.

It's the way he could have used his ability to wash you, yet refused to, changing bandage after bandage, warm hands making sure to scrub the sweat away.

It's the way he would clutch at your body and help you walk without putting actual weight on your feet as the wheelchair became a cage.

It's your smile that haunts him after a long day strolling through the city, cursing loudly when a car passed and sent water all over him, who instantly moved to not let it paint your clothes and ended up soaked, but unable to stop smiling when you laughed like that.

It's the mere touch of your lips over his, his heart slowing down for once, such a deep feeling of home settling into his bones.

Why is the Universe so cruel to him?

Why send you back into his life just to have him watch you like this, on the hospital bed, the life you clutched on so tightly seemingly barely in your grasp?

"Don't be ridiculous! We've got a long way to live!"

"Yeah…you're right. Let's cherish every moment, Chuuya, hm?"

His hat fell to the floor, his head bowed, cheek rubbing affectionately over your hand, which sat in his tight, desperate clutch, tears gathering into his eyes, forcing the sobs wrecking his body to silence as he bit his lips.

Is there somewhere you could meet me?

#bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #spotify #chuuya #bsd chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #bungo stray dogs chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs chuuya

[adoracora-elizabeth]

The truth always comes out, chapter 27

Cora gathered the courage to start. "Mama, I do not want a lecture from you about how Robert and I need to resolve our problems."

Violet nodded and drank from her cup. This surprised Cora, she expected a snarky comment.

"Robert has hurt me too much and I cannot stay." she continued.

"I am not here to ask that of you." Violet said to Cora's surprise. "I only want to ask you to do everything sensible. After hearing Robert's side of the story, I would love to hear your side and hopefully I can give you both some advice." She raised her hand when she saw Cora open her mouth. "I know, you both are grown adults, but you are also both very hurt and I do not want you to make mistakes or decisions that you will later regret."

Cora looked down at her hands, she was prepared to get scolded as she always was by Violet. This was not the Violet she knew. "Thank you, Mama." She said softly.

"Now, let stop this foolish behaviour and tell me what happened."

"As you know, Mary and I started a new business. We organised a lot of events together and during that time I did not give Robert enough attention. I did not fully see how hurt he was by the fact that Sybil is dating Tom." She quickly looked at Violet to see her reaction, but there was none. "During that time, Robert tried to get intimate." Cora blushed; she did not like to talk about these things with her mother-in-law. "I did not let him in enough and I did not live up to his needs."

"Men and their needs." Violet huffed.

With raised eyebrows Cora continued. "When I fell ill, Robert kissed one of the maids and if Sybil had not interrupted, he would have slept with her. But you know Mama. You know what the worst part is?" She stopped again to look at Violet. "The worst part is, that he did not fire her after he realised it was foolish. Oh Mama, no, he did not fire her. He kept her on and he even kept seeing her. They did not kiss after that or anything. But he longed for her and then that letter." Cora felt tears stinging, but she did not want to cry. Not now. "That letter, the way she wrote about what he had said to her. He had declared his love for her. He talked with her about what I was lacking. He betrayed me Mama, not only with his actions, but with his heart. He betrayed me and broke his vows."

Violet still did not say anything, so Cora continued. "And he was not man enough to tell me himself. I had to find out via that letter, Jane wrote. He could not even face me with this. What if I had never gotten that letter, he would have lived on like nothing happened. And I was feeling so guilty for not spending enough time with him. I apologized over and over, and he just listened, knowing he had cheated on me. But no, he was not going to confess what had happened. He was going on, as nothing had happened. He only worried about that letter when he lost it, because he was scared, I would find out. Mama, you know, I think I would be able to forgive the cheating."

"You would?" Violet said.

"I think I could. But Mama he made the cheating so much worse, by holding her on in the household and then when I finally started feel better, not telling me. He is a coward." Cora noticed she was getting angry.

"So, you are going to file for a divorce?" Violet inquired.

Cora nodded and said very softly. "I am."

"Do the girls already know?"

"Not yet, although both Edith and Sybil know something is wrong. Sybil thinks she and Tom are the reason we are fighting. Robert and I need to tell them soon, we cannot wait with this any longer."

"I hope, Rosamund will be able to sober Robert up, because I agree. They need to know, and they need to know soon. Preferably tonight." Violet paused. "Cora, I know I have not always supported you, but I want you to know, that I understand."

+++

Cora walked upstairs, the talk with Violet had exhausted her and she needed to lay down, before she was facing her girls at the dinner table. Upstairs Rosamund met her.

"Cora, just to let you know, Robert is sleeping in his changing room.

Cora sighed; this was not what she needed right now. The door between those rooms, could not be locked.

"I am sorry, I tried steering him towards one of the guest bedrooms, but I failed. I was able to keep him out of your bed though."

Cora gave Rosamund a faint smile. "That is something at least. Thank you for warning me. Are you staying for dinner? Or do you need to go back to London?"

Rosamund pulled Cora close in an embrace. "Dear sis, I would not leave you alone in this."

Much to Cora's annoyance, she could not stop her eyes from watering. She let out a soft sob, she pulled herself back. "I am going to lay down too if you do not mind."

"Did the talk with Mama go well?" Rosamund brushed away a tear from Cora's cheek.

"It did, I am surprised, but yes it did. I was preparing to get a scolding, but none of that all. She even said, she understands."

"Now, that is a first. Well done, you have found the soft side of our mother. All right, go on and get that much needed nap. You look awful, to be honest."

Cora chuckled. "Well, thank you."

"I am always honest with you, you know that." Rosamund walked towards the stairs; do you think I can help Mary with her event?"

"Oh, Rosamund, you do not have to." Cora let out.

"Maybe I do not have to, but maybe I want to." She turned around and walked away. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14247899/27/The-truth-always-comes-out

#cora crawley #robert crawley #downton abbey #fanfiction #downton #cobert

[genderisareligion]

~10 years ago, I was trans. Back then we knew we had a mental illness. We felt our bodies didn’t match our minds. We hoped changing our bodies would give us as much peace as possible, but we knew we couldn’t actually become the sex we wanted. I wished gay men and straight women would want me bc I wished I had a male body, but I knew I didn’t, and wouldn’t have imagined holding it against them. We all felt that way. Now instead of dysphorics, our movement has become overrun w/ antiscience rapists

I've been looking into this long enough to see this shift happen with my own two. It is disappointing that the transsexual/"transmed" community got demonized. Even while I hate gender and think it's a harmful placebo that benefits way less people than it harms, I still have sympathy for some people who believe in it the same way I feel about religious women as I used to be one. I've been struggling with anorexia most of my life and that has come with bouts of dysmorphia which I understand is distinct from dysphoria but similar enough that I know it's not always something that can just be "unbelieved in." It feels very real even if it's not and since the solution is impossible it can take a long time to heal from.

Before 2020 I considered myself a transmed ally and was especially reading/sharing content from FTMs because the only trans person I knew IRL was a transmed FTM (although he didn't call himself that and didn't even know what a TERF was when I asked lol fucking bless I love normies). Then the white supremacist shit happened (pinned post, some other shit a few weeks after that) as well as January 6th 2021 and I became officially disillusioned with all of gender. I still support him from over here because he's normal about his shit and is actually one of these people whose dysphoria and life quality did improve from going stealth but I'm also a staunch believer in "If there were no gender there'd be no dysphoria." (I'm not saying the fact that butch lesbians sometimes have easier lives as passing men is like fucking right or anything, just pointing out the objective fact I witnessed + he told me, that people left him alone more often and he was happier for that at least).

Does wanting gender abolished mean I think physical intervention is always unnecessary? For HRT and even some* reduction surgeries, not necessarily, I think it can depend on the severity (*SRS below the belt is pretty inhumane as it stands now but ethics in the plastic surgery world aren't what they are in the non elective world). I think it should be an absolute last resort and that a lot of people with dysphoria could go without and get some extensive form of therapy instead if our society wasn't so violently capitalistic via medicine, wasn't putting suffering people through an automated surgical assembly line to avoid doing the real work of trauma recovery. Trauma these people received from just like being born into violent capitalism and its sexism which of course the capitalists don't want to acknowledge so they tell you it's about your "gender identity"

Unfortunate trans is becoming synonymous with anti science and rape apologism because there used to be more to it than that

#shadow.txt #ask.txt

[randomnameless]

I think it comes from the same anon, so here is your reply, and for the love of blue cheese, please learn how to use commas, remove double spaces or just press F7 on your keyboard next time you try to write something, it will really help you in the future.

Now, back to your statements :

Fighting against Rhea fits in quite nicely with FE running theme of humanity choosing its own fate rather than being playthings for dragons

Fire Emblem has never been a series of “choosing” fate rather than being “playthings” to lizards.

FE series is all about a blue haired protagonist coming to terms with their duties and expectations, and doing the “right thing” when it is needed/asked.

Also, daily reminder that FE8′s dragons do not expect anything from humanity :)

While the Elibe dragons just wanted to live in peace, but some people didn’t want that :)

Unless you’re talking about some weird kink Nergal (and Eliwood?) was into with his dragon wife, but I am not into that.

heck its been there from the start with dragons starting a problem and humanity escalating into bad behavior loupre the evil dragon who corrupted a bunch of humans

Imagine an asshole doing assholish things suddenly means all members of the race of the asshole are automatically assholes themselves :(

I sure hope it’s not the case, else, following this maxim, Seliph is also someone who forcefully seduces ladies since Bramsel did it first, because they are both humans.

Elibe dragons were attacked by humans, so unless breathing counts as “starting a problem” I don’t know what was expected of them. Archanea dragons, since you seem to like this verse enough to talk about it - but not enough to read about it - degenerated naturally, yes, but the enemity Medeus had towards them is not because humans have round ears, nope, but because humans enslaved “disminished” dragons who became manaketes.

You could even make a point that humans always start to mess with dragons and it bites them in the rear, this is what happens in FE Archanea, FE Elibe, FE Ylisse (since Grima is an artificial, human made construct) and, arguably, in FE Fodlan with all this nonsense about Crests and whatnot.

Hm.

This makes me think of this (translated) line in FE4, between Loptyr who possesses Julius and Seliph :

Yurius (defeated by Celice): “Urrgghhhh… Take note, Celice…! While greed exists in men’s hearts… …I will return…! …You’ve been warned! Gaaahhh…”

FE15′s ending narration :

Only one truth is clear: War will come again, when man grows proud and slothful once more, and its flames will devour one and all, raging until the very earth itself lies scorched and bare of life. For whatever madness lay in the hearts of gods… a darkness deeper still beats wild in the hearts of man…

Medeus from FE12 :

Medeus: GWAH...! WHY......? WHY... HAVE I... BEEN DEFEATED... SO EASILY...? IS THIS... THE POWER... ...OF NAGA'S... BINDING SHIELD...? KNOW THIS, HUMANS... THIS LIGHT IS ONLY A BRIEF RESPITE... SO LONG AS EVIL LURKS WITHIN THE HEARTS OF MAN... SHOULD THIS ACCURSED SHIELD BE LOST, WE SHALL RISE FROM THE DEPTHS OF HELL... DO NOT... EVER FORGET...

Medeus from FE11 :

Medeus: “Nngh…Defeated again…by humans! Know this, Altean prince… That light which surrounds you is only a temporary respite. So long as the darkness in your hearts continues to sustain me…I cannot be…destroyed….. Rrraaahhh!!!!!”

So what can take from the Archanea saga - which created and cemented the themes that inspired all future FEs?

Some dragons are big and scary and powerful, as long as Men have evil/greed/darkness/madness in their hearts, they will continue to exist ; almost as if those bad dragons are the symptoms of an illness caused by Humanity’s folly, or just, humans being humans and asses.

Loptry did not corrupt the first Galle - Jugdral is very clear about how Dragons give magic blood to humans, it is a pact. Galle I wanted power, and he received power. Through the course of the Jugdral games (I recommend playing them, watching a LP or just reading their script on SF, trust me, your posts will finally have some substance!) the player will realise that Julius is the only “corrupted” human by the power of Loptyr, but Manfroy, Bramsel, Chagall, Di Maggio, and even Arvis himself?

Are not corrupted at all by a dragon, they made their own choices and while I know some people really like the concept of agency being removed to justify a fave still being a fave, even if she ends up mindbroken in a certain game, all those Jugdral people? They do what they want, and not what a lizard locked in a book wants.

rhea reminds me of mila and dumas They all actively interfere with and try to shape humanity to fit their ideals but ultimately are detrimental to the humans they seek to protect

DM me if you can create a Tumblr account, because I would really like to play the personalised copy of FE15 and FE16 you received!

In my copy, and the one some person at SF received and transcripted on the site for everyone to access, and the ones all those people on Youtube who made LPs received -

Mila’s biggest “sin” is to have grown lazy and complacent and not have taken enough action regarding the humans of Zofia, allowing Lima to seduce ladies and Desaix to burn a bunch of babies.

Rhea’s interference is so active that 

Hubert complains that she didn’t do enough to shape the world as she saw fit,

Nopes!Leicester dgaf about her and don’t even know who she is, 

a branch of her organisation tries to kill her for sheltering foreigners.

I suppose she is as active as Leopold’s braincells when he stares at a map.

rhea was scared of humans and claimed without her fodlan was doomed which isnt true

She was so scared of humans that welcomed thousands of them in her home, and even showed her ears to at least one of them!

Seriously, I panick and freeze the second I see a wasp (the animal!), so I would never welcome thousands of them in my home, and show them my ears. 

Also, given how suicidal Rhea is, I doubt she would have ever said, or entertained the thought, that Fodlan would be doomed without her - she might have said something similar regarding the Goddess however, but unlike what some peple seriously believe, Rhea and her mother are not one and the same -

ergo, the Church of Seiros is not the Catholic Church! but take this statement with a grain of salt, I don’t have any degree :’(

( I meant Loptous not loupre I confused his name for something else its been a while )  julius was a victim of loptous  his mind was changed due to his hatred for humanity which was embodied by the tome which had always been his goal The devs outright said that Loptous was in control of both Gair and Julius, even calling Julius his victim    mila and dumas were wrong  and their actions hurt humanity 2/2

Are you talking about this?

A: Loputousu, Narga and Holsety held different positions compared to the other dragons. Loputousu’s plan was obvious – “to use Bishop Galle to wreak vengeance on the humans”, which is why he formed a blood pact with Galle. The holy dark tome Loputousu contained Loputousu’s overpowering hatred and resentment towards humans, and was able to control the human who broke its seal (namely Bishop Galle’s descendants, those who inherited large amounts of the original pact-former’s blood). So it was, a human who possessed Loputousu’s strength and will was born.

Loptyr was an ass, and wanted to piss on humans by using Galle’s descendants as meatsuits (note how this only says the humans who were controlled were Galle’s descendants, not the man himself!).

As for Galle 1, Kaga says this about him :

In Genealogy of the Holy War, the ambitious Bishop Galle believed the legend that “drinking the blood of the ancient dragons grants one tremendous power and eternal life” and traveled around the world, finally arriving at the continent of Akaneia. He met with one of the Earth Dragons, Loputousu, who allowed him to form a blood pact.

Julius is indeed a victim of the dragon, but in Julius’s case, since we know jackshit about Galle 2 to Galle X (who was rekt’d by the Crusaders), who is the loser who “engineers” his creation, and who gives him the tome that will corrupt him?

It’s not Loptyr, since Loptyr locked himself in a book. Hint : that person has no scales.

And don’t worry about Duma and Mila being wrong, my personalised copy of FE15 had them acknowledge the errors of their ways, and entrust the fate of Valentia to Alm’n’Celica, but my copy also had a character named Desaix who burnt babies to become King without any draconic interference.

3/2 dragons arent all evil but a dragon calling himself a god and refusing to humble themselves tends to be a sign of bad things

Hopefully not many dragons call themselves gods, especially not in the Archanea verse where that title is given to them by humans, but they never call themselves “gods”.

And I think we went over it in the other post, what do you mean by “humbling” themselves? Truncating their ears? Mutilate themselves to “look like” humans? Get rid of their hearts?

Medeus was so pissed that humans enslaved dragons who accepted to “humble” themselves that he became very angry - unless you’re suggesting that the only way for dragons to “humble” themselves is to become slaves?

from the start onwars the trend had been a dragon starting problems and humans escalating into terrible behavior

You are repeating yourself anon.

( dumas and mila whose human followers reflected their degenerated states)

Are you implying that Duma, in his madness, would have swooned over Zeke and fell in love with him, like his follower Tatiana did ?? 

Or Nomah is a lazy bum who has a harem of nuns, like Mila ??

it was dumas fault and milas fault  later games evened out the dragons and human conflict like in fates ( basically dragons do cause problems  like rhea who tried to control humanity

You know, since you put numbers in your asks, there is no need to repeat yourself since I read and reply to them in a bulk. So there is no need to repeat “Mila’n’Duma BaD” in each post, I got your pov the first time!

Fates is, I reckon, not my area of expertise. You would have more chance talking to Fates fans. But from what I remember, Anankos degenerated, he gave his dragon stone to Azura’s ancestor hoping he could sing for him but after some time it didn’t work, and that’s it ?

I don’t think how this evens it out - unless you’re talking about how, in Fates, everything “bad” happens because of Anankos, without any human hand, but it has the very unfortunate implication of saying a race of people is bad because this person who has a mental illness did bad things, and I really do not support this train of thought.

As for Rhea :

It goes without saying, however the reason for Seiros tampering with history was not so she could rule over humanity—it was to minimize war and preserve peace across the land.

The devs don’t agree with you, and despite what the personalised copy you got said, or what NoA advertised, Rhea, and the Church of Seiros, never controlled nor ruled over Fodlan.

Whatever issues Rhea’s secrets and “guidance” cause, the main problems arising in FE16 (and in Nopes) are caused by Agarthans - humans. Not lizards.

---

Actually the picture I picked isn’t very adequate, because after all those burns, you need to stay hydrated anon, and drinking your own salt won’t help you at all.

Maybe you should try water?

#anon #replies #fandom woes #fe series #seriously telling people to drink their tears is mean! #they will need to drink water afterwards to stay hydrated! #I swear people it's better to play or study the games you want to talk about #else you end up bernie'd like this anon #summer discourse saga 2022 edition

[absinthehoney]

ode to You who cant remember my name

you lived in shades of fucking cool like no one i’ve ever known. that’s all i’ll ever think of you. this isn’t a poem, or a love sonnet, isn’t pretty or kind enough to be one. just a letter to a ghost that haunts the dark corners of my temporal lobe. you were the first guy i knew to fly off the handle like that and shave your head into that wild shaggy mohawk when things weren’t going well. foreshadowing to my shitty park bathroom bleach job after i lost my sister, right? i wished i was brave like you, knew how to say “fuck you all” or even just have the balls to tell them to lay off you. what didn’t they make fun of man. you couldn’t seem to do anything right. you couldn’t even open your mouth without having someone yell at you to shut up. and i remember the way my face would flush scarlet and i’d have to bury my head in my arms when you raised your hand in class, because I was already burning with enough shame for both of us. not that you’d know. i didn’t like my body or the way my clothes felt on my skin. i couldn’t stand my lisp that i never managed grow out of (it stops being cute after 6th grade apparently). when words left my mouth, i wanted to crawl inside of myself and disappear. you spoke like the world was ending, tearing apart and collapsing around you and you just had to. get. your last. words. out. 

and you’d smirk and lean back in your chair. arrogant prick. james dean. marlon brando. clint eastwood. i figure we can mock eachother equally in that department since you and I imitate the same men. same masculine swagger that comes off like a living, breathing love letter to old hollywood. swear i saw you in a leather jacket. unless that’s just who you are and i’ve been copying you. then this whole thing comes across like a different kind of love letter.

You tried everything. you skiied and played the flute and took karate and listened to metal and read Eragon and Harry Potter and every Tolkien book published. You ran a D&D table and I cleaned cafeteria tables because I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I don’t know how I got it in my arrogant little brain that I was better than you. I was exhausted, ignoring adolescent mental illness bubbling to the surface, had trouble connecting with anyone my age, listened to the same five sad lana del rey songs over and over. 

I always liked how you lent me books. it made me feel smart. we were all pretty smart, I guess. top 1% of the school. the gifted class. cream of the crop. but your books were the only ones I read willingly. I chewed up page after page like a starving man just so I could come to you a few days later, give it back and say I was done. and you’d say “alright”, and I’d nudge my hand a little closer so we could touch and see if it made me feel something.

I always liked how you’d tuck your feet in close when I walked by. you were always lounging, feet outstretched while you were half asleep, but you still saw me. acknowledged my presence. like you wanted to make my life a little easier even when I was just a passing shadow. I think of you every time some does that for me-- moves their body to make room for mine. 

I feel like such a freak, thinking of you like this even now. it’s been so long. we weren’t that close. and i don’t think anyone will ever truly get it and that tears me apart inside. But I wish I’d held you a little longer if i’d’ve known that was really the last time. first and last time i’d ever been that close to you, i think. I think I felt something for you that I can’t ever hope to understand.

and this is sorry excuse for everything i have to say

#another really personal one #no one knows about this #no one ever will #no one will ever understand or hope to understand #lmfao imagine posting your deepest darkest shit on your public tumblr #took me an embaressing amount of time to write this

[minachan95-written-works-on-ao3]

Title: The Little Protector of the Family's Fireplace

Fandom: King of Fighters

Characters: Kyo Kusanagi, Iori Yagami

Pairing: Iori x Kyo

Summary:

[Sequel to Little Oreo's Big Rescue Mission] [This story was made as entry for June's month Aarinfantasy Writing Challenge.]

Life is not easy when you live together with your human cat-dads and have to take care of them. Especially, when you are just a small kitten.

AO3 Link

Life is not easy when you live together with your human cat-dads and have to take care of them. Especially when you are just a kitten.

All this time, the tuxedo kitten Oreo has a lot of responsibilities about his parents don’t have even the slightest idea. From making sure that he hunted every toy down, checking every corner in the house, to protecting his cat dads.

The little fellow loves his adoptive parents - Kyo and Iori because they love him and pamper in attention. However, he doesn’t like when his cat-dads may argue or even ignore each other.

Fortunately, these two stubborn men’s fights don’t last long, and most of the time they make up in the same way. Although, Oreo cannot understand why his parents shut in the bedroom while making weird noises and Kyo nearly meowing like a cat behind the door.

Nevertheless, the tuxedo kitten does his best to keep the peace in this household and the family’s fireplace warm and without the smoke.

However, one day, Oreo had to deal with another difficult mission.

It is a rainy afternoon outside, and the tuxedo kitten rests on Iori’s lap in the study room. He enjoys how the redhead strokes his fur before falling asleep during this kind of weather.

Some time passed. Suddenly, the little Oreo lifts his head and carefully listens to something. As the tuxedo kitten jumps from Yagami’s lap, letting out a short trilling noise, he rushes to greet his other dad.

‘‘Maybe the dad will give me more treats before my other daddy shows up?’’ The little kitten innocently thinks to himself while marching into the living room.

As soon as Oreo notices the brunette, he widens his eyes and slightly back-offs.

‘‘Dad, don’t come near me. You’re so scary and wet!’’ Or so, the little fellow would say while keeping his tail close to his little body. Yet, all his talk was just one loud meowing.

Soon enough, his other cat-dad shows up and nags on Kyo, who is soaking wet. Yet, the Kusanagi doesn’t take his partner’s words seriously.

‘‘Oh no… Are they going to ignore each other again?’’ Oreo wonders, as he observes his parents.

Fortunately, Iori only asks the brunette to dry himself and change clothes.

Later on the same evening. Little Oreo plays with one of his cat dads. However, the tuxedo kitten gets startled by the brunette loudly sneezing.

The poor little creature is even concerned about how Kyo instantly leaves the couch while covering his mouth and nose and desperately looking for the tissues.

As the redhead rolls his eyes, he leaves the room. After a couple of minutes, Iori returns with the paper tissues and a thermometer.

Meanwhile, Oreo feels relieved watching over how his daddy takes care of another one.

It is a late night. Little Oreo peacefully rests near the redhead on the couch. Tonight, Iori decided Kyo should lie in the bed without leaving it unless it’s necessary. Lastly, the brunette should follow such a strict mode until he recovers.

Of course, he and little Oreo would nurse the brunette in the meantime and make sure that he would act like a good patient.

Meanwhile, the tuxedo kitten stretches out and yawns, and he leaves the couch without waking up his cat-dad and goes to visit his other parent.

After reaching the bedroom, Oreo jumps on the bed and curls into a ball next to Kyo while he hopes it will cheer up his still ill dad.

Some time passes. The little kitten wakes up by the sounds of the brunette whining and murmuring something.

However, Oreo can sense that his dad is in pain because of nearly crying and calling Yagami during his sleep.

The more the kitten observes the suffering brunette, the more he feels bad for him. He is not sure whether he should call his daddy to help Kyo.

Yet, little Oreo refuses to leave his dad’s side, even if the brunette rolls on the side and curls into a ball while sobbing during his sleep.

In the end, the tuxedo kitten tries to comfort his dad in his way. After Oreo rubs himself near Kyo’s face and neck, he lays next to the brunette.

A second later, Kyo furrows while wrinkling his nose and groans. When he slowly opens his eyes, he notices a small ball of fur sleeping near his face.

The brunette is confused about where he is. Yet, it took some time until he realized that what he had seen and experienced before wasn’t real.

‘‘So, it was just another dream?… Oreo, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with your dad?’’ The Kusanagi’s heir asks in a half-asleep voice as he sits up.

Yet, little Oreo is worried about how his dad grasps his chest around his heart area and looks about to burst into tears.

Of course, the tuxedo kitten has to do something about it! He would do anything that none of his parents would be upset or in pain.

As Oreo jumps on Kyo’s lap, he kneads and purrs. While the brunette strokes the tuxedo kitten’s fur, he asks ‘‘What is it with you? I’m fine, Oreo. So, go and check how your dad is doing.’’.

However, the little fellow shows his stubbornness by curling into the ball and purring. Even he can feel that the brunette needs someone to cheer him up until he feels better.

Kyo lies on his back while commenting ‘‘Fine. You won this time, pal.’’. In the end, the tuxedo kitten gets up and stretches out.

When the Kusanagi’s heir thinks Oreo will leave him in peace, the kitten proves him wrong. That’s right, the little Oreo finds a new spot to rest on Kyo’s chest.

While the kitten comfortably lies, the brunette complains ‘‘So, this is how are you gonna play, huh? Fine. I don’t mind this.’’.

Even if the Kusanagi cannot escape the traumatic past, the little Oreo makes him realize he is not alone, and neither the blood curse corrupted Iori nor hasn’t met a tragic end.

However, each time reliving these memories in his dreams hurts him.

Suddenly, the brunette can feel how the tears run down his cheek. For now, he continues gently stroking Oreo’s fur. To think of, do Kyo and Iori pick up and adopted Oreo? Or is it the other way?

Either way, such a small creature made a significant impact on their lives and allows them to grow. So, a little tuxedo kitten is like the most precious gift given to them.

In the end, Kyo admits that Oreo’s purring also has a relaxing and calming effect. Besides, the tuxedo kitten dragged him out from the same dreams which haunt him for years.

However, without realizing it, Kyo feels how his eyelids become heavier within each moment until he calms down and falls asleep.

Meanwhile, Iori checks where his precious little angel is gone, and at the same time, if his partner is doing fine or needs anything.

After entering the bedroom, the redhead notices how the brunette and the tuxedo kitten peacefully sleep together.

When Iori gets close to Kyo, he carefully touches his forehead while observing him. In the end, the redhead notes to himself that he should prepare fresh clothes and help him change into them. But for now, he goes to the bathroom to get a bowl of cold water and a small towel.

Besides, who else will take care of that reckless idiot if not little Oreo and the redhead?

#kof #king of fighters #kyo kusanagi #iori yagami #kyo x iori #iori x kyo #fanfiction #one-shot #complete #fluff #kyoxiori one-shot #ao3 #archive of our own

[wontgoup]

Uncomfortable sex, is uncomfortable.

It is annoying, it is an intimacy you want but your mouths taste like bins, from all the beers and cigs and its been a few days since youve changed your sheets. Plus you are stressed, so as much as you want the sex and the intimacy, your room is not big enough for two people.

Because you feel immense just being you, right now.

Is it the title? Of boyfriend? Or the circumstance that makes things more uncomfortable as it is just another fucking horrible fist like grip you are having to balance.

Some people take it all, shoved into a corner while fisted in. Or tight holes being loosened that feel fine, as they are happening but your bed is too small, its so public, its like being in a bad porn that is active research. Trying to debase a lot of the strangeness attached to bodies in religious places that are wildly conservative as they are intricately involved with peoples bodies, that will change, easily, to open their horizons and shed the weight of responsibility prescribed by particular places and the way they work.

Women can like women, if it pays for their lives. Whether they are actually attracted to those people to begin with is a whole other question, but children are far more expensive than simply being looked after alone. Men must bear it all, if they, cant be stuffed. They can change and do, get surgeries, with everyone just giving parts of themselves to share.

Trying to learn how to survive in and around people that struggle. They find someone slightly nice, they assimilate or feel the pressure to never be as they once were, a hard road they trudged too many a time, not something to return to.

A obedience that comes from relying on someone else or other people, and all their unfair conditions that prevent them from showing the world the truth that comes with never being the same person, you once were before, they arrived and made you feel like you had to change because who you once were, is gone.

They have taken it. By paying for it.

Sex machines, sluts, plastic gloves flexed taut on our hands, masks on, eyes wild, sneakily hiding our dirty minds behind caps, masks and plastic gloves, staring at your sexy body. All day long and then some.

Except, some of us, just dance and let others dance on us, to perform the pain that comes with lending to people that often may never pay us back but take from us, wildly. A responsibility that comes for men, firstly, a spoilt tendency that needs to be dissolved but what do you do with all of them, when they themselves feel a tad useless with too much time on their hands but nothing to do, with all of it.

Just keep paying for the girls and their pusssies and assholes. With a few beers and some cigs, thanks for the comfort. Youll leave at some point. But ill always be, me. Here. Even after 20 years. Rockstar, cutie pie. Asian warlord on a motorbike, drink driving. Putting his hometown on the global platform. To be known and remembered. Just as much as a place to simply pass through, as we do, to each other.

Renegotiating the lines, one person in outright dissent, the other just hoping for some continuous work and stories to share.

Its a bad deal. But thats how the worlds been structured. Only the highest seem to take it all and everyone else sells all the last parts of themselves to simply survive.

[hazbinextgeneration]

Safe Haven’s Angel Book1 Ch45

The dark room's atmosphere was not the most calm to anyone outside the Don's close circle of workers and family. But the dark brought comfort to the dangerous man. There were many things one could get away with in the dark. Many things that never left the dark. That never got questioned or solved. Maybe it was the authority he had or just the fear that came with it. But he was grateful for what the dark gave him. Now it was time to summon one of the darkest creatures that lived in it.

If only she stopped running off-

He was distracted by a knocking at the door. Quickly giving it a look over before turning to one of his surrounding people. The tall creature closest to the door opened it immediately at his silent command. The first thing that hit his little hell was a flood of light and the silhouette of the creature he had hoped to summon.

"Good of you to finally join us. Certainly took you long enough."

The girl grinned at him before stepping into the hell she was summoned to with a couple high pitched giggles. "You know I never disappoint.~ The question is what the great Don has in store for me THIS time.~" The girl never stopped walking. Only doing so when she was near his desk. Her multicolored eyes eyeing him like he was a full coursed meal. "What will it be I wonder? A slaughter? Kidnapping? Perhaps a little warning to those you send missiles to do a man's job.~"

"So you've heard about that?"

She laughed like a maniac before snapping back in an instant. "How could I not?~ It's been quite a sight seeing all those explosions.~...How's the little lady?~"

He remained silent but the hand gripping the cigar tightened just the slightest. Enough for her to notice apparently.

"Ooooh.~ I forgot she's out cold."

"Actually-" He quickly put out the cigar on the close ash tray and stood up. "That's what I wanted you here for. I have a job for you that will test your skills."

She perked up. She loved a good challenge. Who doesn't? She watched him slowly walk towards a different door in the dark office. Looked liked a closet, but that was proven wrong when the serpent knocked twice. Without skipping a beat, the clicking of a lock rang out and the door was immediately opened by another one of his tall furballs. He turned and beckoned her towards the door before going in himself. Of course, she didn't skip a beat and made her way over to where he disappeared to. What she saw made her smile wider?

"Ooooh!~ What a sleeping beauty.~" Her gaze carefully went over the unconscious woman on the bed. Her breathing was even and besides the obvious sleeping smell, she looked like any other sleeping person. "Such a sight.~"

"I suppose you know about this 'A coma Illness' going around."

"Naturally.~"

He turned to her with tired eyes and rose a brow. "My men have gathered that it's some kind of modified roofy drug combined with a flu like vires. But it doesn't spread. Otherwise hundreds of others would've been affected. Someone ha-"

"Someone has been deliberately putting it in people one way or another." She giggled. "Really? How very very interesting.~ And what does the great Castello want me to do about it? Hmm?~ I can't hunt down someone that I don't know.~"

"I know that," he growled out through gritted fangs, "This is a test of your.....services."

Her grin finally widened enough to break her human disguise. Yellow peeking out from behind those mitch matched eyes. "I love a good challenge, Sweetheart.~" He grimaced at the nickname. "Hmhmhm. Now. What's the Don's bidding?"

"Can you erase memories? Specific memories about something?"

"Yes.~"

He rose a brow. "Erase documents? Like hospital paperwork?"

"Of course. I eat them."

His brow rose higher. "And what about...enhancing TV footage?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Dear. Electronics are my family's specialty.~ So you wish me to erase evidence of you and your wife anywhere near the hospital?~"

"Correct. And...something else." He glanced back towards the bed with a strange look in his eyes.

Queeny followed his gaze for a moment before back to him with a smile and more giggling. "You want me to wake her up.~"

"Can you?"

"My dear Don.~ While I am a very capable creature, my knowledge with medical science is close to none. But-," she said just as he was about to hiss in more frustration, "I happen to know two VERY good mad scientists and can break down the very structure of it.~''

"...Then you can make this happen?"

"Well, I'll need a few things-"

"Name it."

"Weeeelll.~ " She held up fingers as she listed off. "A list of all the people that know and could possibly know, the original footage, and a blood sample of the little lady's blood.~ Think you can manage?"

"That would be just a FEW close employees of mine and the family doctor. Unless my son opened up." He started towards the door. "All footage of that building is currently upstairs and to be shown on public news tomorrow morning...."He have her a look." But I am rather hesitant to just give her blood to anyone-"

"Would you rather have a Sleeping Beauty or a Living Charming?" He didn't answer. "I thought so.~"

He hissed. "How soon can you have this done?"

"Give me one week. And I assure you everything will be ready."

He looked at her for a moment before nodding and turning to the door. "So be it."

"Good. Now about that list of names.~ You'll need to think very hard and be very specific.~ Wouldn't want to miss anyone.~ Hehehe."

"That begs the question of how exactly did my enemy found out she was there in the first place-"

"Oh, one of your dealer's double crossed you," she said casually with a wave, "Must've heard you discussing it. Don't worry anymore." Finally, the true demon broke out. "He was delicious either way.~"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dragon didn't really make himself discreet when he practically rushed into his workplace trying to make up for lost time from sleeping in. Almost bumping into a few others on his way to his office. Ounce there he fumbled to get the key out of his pocket, yellow eyes looking around for anyone who'd possibly be a threat. He somehow finally managed to get the key out before shakingly unlocking the door, rushing in and slamming it behind him. He remained there for a few seconds before sighing in relief and pushing himself away from the door. There. He sucsessfully got into work and into his office before anyone could notice him-

He barely got a few steps away before there was a knocking at the door. Making him freeze...and slowly turn around back to the door. The knocking got louder before a cold voice came through.

"Mr. Marx, I suggest you open the door."

The cold voice sent a shiver down his spine and he visibly gulped. How did he not notice anyone watching him? He made a move to grab the doorknob but stopped when it turned on it's own and the door swung open-

THUD! "OW!"

Marx stumbled back when the door made contact with his forehead. He groaned and thankfully didn't fall thanks for his desk he ran into and clutched at the place that got hit. He grumbled something under his breath and opened an eyes to stare at the pale boy in the doorway. He was giving him a raised brow look.

"My father sent me to check up on that script you gave Quivor. He wants all employees on deck for the end of this month-"

"T-This month! I-I thought the premere was next month!" He slowly opened his other eye to stare at the serpent. A wide look to them.

"Well you should have been here for the weekly staff meeting instead of fonding over the wounded animal."

Marx gave a small frown at the comment he made towards his wife, but didn't dare say anything to the son of the powerful Don and his boss. "W-What does he-?"

"He wants you on the floors helping Director with the scenes. We have less than three weeks you know." He reached down to grab the doorknob before looking back at him. " Wouldn't want to make him angry."

The door fully closed and he was left there leaning against the desk and groaned again. Another thing to add to his worries.

[crazybigredlove]

6th July 2013

Petey! 

All three of the guys from the dating site sent me a text message. Pretty sure they were the modern equivalent of a mating call. Do you think it's okay to screen them according to their grammar and use of the English language? Is that a bad thing? Seems fair enough given that I am a journalist of sorts. Maybe I only write ill-informed fitness articles, but same-same. Okay, yes technically a filler writer for a magazine, but I have a degree in journalism. Or creative writing anyway, which these days really is the same thing. 

Shut up. 

As yet only one has managed to spark my interest and - brace yourself - he's a ginger. I'm not talking a little bit of an orange tinge, I mean shocking fire-engine red hair. He's well over six foot tall (I am still strictly enforcing my six foot two height minimum) and he seems so sweet. Also, he seems very athletic. That's important in my world (refer to earlier point on writing fitness articles. Sure I personally may be allergic to exercise, but staring at pictures all day of men working out has resulted in unrealistic expectations of what Prince Charming is going to look like. Plus, if I can't have Prince Harry this guy is definitely an acceptable substitute). Oddly, he asked for my email even though he had my phone number, but I complied and the first email chimed through only minutes later. War and Peace long but unexpectedly sweet, so I replied being my usual charming and funny self. Translation: I prattled crap and stressed the whole time about how uncool I sounded. Seven drafts later I had to hit send because I didn't even recognise the person in the email anymore and I feared that if I kept going I'd be so far removed from myself that I'd be some sort of load back Victoria’s Secret model cool chick who lives a life constantly harassed by beautiful men. As it was I may have told him that I was of Icelandic ancestry. I'm still not sure how that happened. Anyway, he emailed back a short time later and that was when I told him to just text me again. He did and asked if we could meet up soon. Requested a picture so that I could actually see his face as apparently the kids these days think that when you're looking to pickup the best way is by posting photos of yourself that are so dark and blurry an eye examination and new prescription glasses are required immediately by anyone hoping to view them. 

Well. 

He's cute. Yes. He seems cheeky. Yes. But sending me a picture of himself flipping the bird? I'm going to just take a stab in the dark and say his mental age is either younger than Christopher's or he has no clue about women. I'm not even sure which one I want to be right. Needless to say I did what I do, which is send a text back without hesitation and which probably ended the short- lived romance. He responded saying something similar. Then he sent one apologising. Then I ignored him all afternoon till he sent me one asking if we were good. 

Then I got distracted and only remembered that I hadn't replied about, oh, four seconds ago. 

So that's a new relationship PR: two emails and four texts. I am mentally unwell. 

Harry did insist that I write to you about my problems, and while I feel the bulk of my problems do stem from my absolutely crap dating life (see exhibit A: Big Red giving me a middle finger salute as a mating call) he seems to think there is something deeper going on. Like the fact that I lay awake for hours every night thinking about nothing and everything seems cause for concern. Now, without startling you, he may have thrown the word “depression” around, but you have to know how I feel about labels. Likely he was being a jerk and a little overzealous. Besides, I'm not even convinced that I have problems. 

Buffy chewed through your duvet. Thought you should know. Also, have blown two light bulbs this week and even the tallest chairs in the house are still not tall enough for me to reach. I would ask your brother to fix them but seriously, he'll make a move on me. That would result in his body hanging from the balcony with a 'Love Liv' sign hanging around his neck and I don't have time to deal with being charged with murder this week. 

Liv x 

PS. Bumped into your folks at the markets. Your Ma invited me around for dinner (plus she said I'd lost weight. Ha!). Accepted cordially and explained that it was the least I could do given that I knew that her crap parenting was the reason you'd fled so abruptly. Ok. I didn't really say that. But if I did would you come back? 

#love #friendship #dating #wtf #memories #emails i sent #emails #letters

[eloquentmoon]

Of Heat and Hatred

Lord Maul x Female Reader 

Summary: A smutty Maul x female!reader insert - where you have hateful, erotic relations with Lord Maul on the throne of Mandalore.

Warnings/kinks/tags: smut, 18+, robo legs Maul, dominant Maul, rough sex, hate sex, power dynamic, power imbalance, vaginal fingering, biting, choking, force choking, implied consent

Word Count: 3.6k

Notes: This is the first time I’ve posted one of my fics to tumblr, so I hope I’ve done it right. I usually post on ao3, and it’s almost entirely maul smut lol here is the link if you wanna check it out <3

You try your hardest to not openly sneer at the monster that has usurped the throne of your people. He lounges upon it, silently and seriously, his eyes gleaming with golden malice. The way he holds himself is absurd – he talks with the severe gravitas and surety of a King that has ruled for a millennia. You do not fall for such falsehoods, you know the true butcher he is - just a sly barbarian of an animal who got lucky. Despite being boldly ill-tempered and hideous, he appears to be surefooted in his leadership to the rest of them, your poor, cheated kin – but you refuse to accept it.

You loathe the simplicity with which he played his plan to perfection. The people of Mandalore have been duped into submission. Due to a sacred code of honour, you are bound to serve and follow him. You are furious - firstly, that he managed to fool you all with little difficulty, and secondly, because you cannot bring yourself to abandon the honourable law of your heritage, even if feels so unnaturally wrong to be ruled by this outsider. Everything in your life has fallen apart, your family ripped into despair as clans declare civil war, buildings burn and criminal gangs wage their violence freely. In spite of your better judgement, you have kept your head down and stayed put, conspiring and planning in the shadows - quiet and defiant in the face of this treachery. You have faith that one day soon, him and his monstrous brother will simply become a small mark in the rich history of your world and culture. An easily overcome hurdle to teach a sour lesson that will stamp out any weakness in the future generations of Mandalorian warriors. A larger, greater plan.

You burn with hatred in silence as he dishes out his orders, speaking to your brethren as the expendable, disposable muscle meat that they are in his eyes. Such a waste. He needs to be deposed and fast, before he pointlessly burns through the finest warriors in the galaxy like a squad of defective battle droids. Oh but that is so like him, though. Nothing holds value. Not one thing matters to men like him – he can accrue all the power and credits in the galaxy but it will never be enough. Because it is nothing. It is all a gimmick that they hide their sad, sorry lives behind because they are weak and insecure. You see right through his intimidating façade, you see he has nothing of his own, hence why he has stolen everything from you.

So lost in the intensity of your thoughts, you do not realise that he has ordered the room to be emptied of everyone but you - even his giant, brute of a brother has been sent away - until he is speaking directly to you, and his villainous voice echoes in the empty chamber. It is time, you think – this has been coming for a while. How long can you rage quietly in revulsion, spinning the webs of rebellion and plotting the downfall of a Sith, before he runs you through with his saber?

You keep your eyes to the floor. If this is how your life shall end, you will honour your ancestors with the death of an apathetic warrior, you will refuse to give the evil creature even a crumb of your energy. And you will spare yourself the disgust of looking at him as he strikes you down.

“Do not ignore me.”

You do not squirm at his aggressive tone. You stand strong, head down, eyes glowering into the floor. You can hear your own heart beat wildly in your ears whilst you try to come to terms with your imminent death.

“Take off your armour.”

You are surprised and shaken by this command, but you still do not look up. You obey him, slowly peeling away the layers of your warrior legacy for the final time. You remove your helmet last, placing it gently to the ground with as much respect and dignity as you can. Left in your under-suit, you stand up straight, though your eyes stay glued to the ground.

He continues. “I have sensed the way that you look at me. I can feel the intensity of your gaze, even beneath that dreadful helmet of yours. Oh, I know hatred well. It pleases me now, to see it burning across that pretty, sulking face of yours - though it would be far more pleasant if you would look me in the eye.”

You exhale in a loud sigh, and refuse to move your eyes from the floor. You cannot stomach the sight of him.

“Answer me.”

You spit your reply in contempt. “What of it? What shall you have me do? Will you command me to look at you, you traitorous villain?”

“You are insolent and disloyal. You do not favour me as your new ruler.”

“Obviously. Have it over with, usurper. End my life under the charge of treason. I would rather die than stomach another day with you on the throne.”

He chuckles cruelly.

“Such a tough girl. The dramatics appeal to me, and I appreciate the offer of your execution – I have no doubt of what fun that would be.” He pauses. The threat of his words sends chills through your bones and the reality of your predicament is now clear, and you feel your body betray you to the inherent human weakness - that fear of death – screaming now in your heart, mind and soul.

He continues. “Though I must confess, I do not see the point in disposing of you, not yet. Such passion. It would be a waste. However,” he briefly pauses, and appears to be contemplating, “we must fix your insolence – I cannot have you undermining my rule. You cannot look upon me with such insubordinate arrogance.”

You growl. “Then see how I no longer look upon you at all, and never will for the remainder of my days. It will be a relief to me, too.”

He allows silence for a few moments after your reply. You sense him shifting in the corner of your vision. You wish he would get this over with – the teasing is shameful and humiliating. Murder me, villain, you think. Murder me and end this pathetic game.

He quietly speaks.

“If I command you to look at me, would you?”

You nod slowly.

“Then maybe I shall.”

“I will serve and obey you under the code of my heritage. You know this, you despotic maniac. Do what you will.”

“Look at me, then.”

You immediately look up and glare into the glowing yellow eyes of a criminal. A criminal who very obviously delights in his control over you.

“On your knees.”

You immediately fall to the ground, the harsh smack of the floor on your knees sends a sharp jolt of pain up your thighs. You refuse to react, keeping your eyes locked on his, resentment building with intensity in your chest.

“Much better.” He grins devilishly, glowering down at you with spiteful eyes.

“You are insufferable,” you hiss, taking the opportunity to fully take him in. You can never stand to look at him for too long, but now being commanded to, you absorb the details of him. His crown of horns, the symmetrical and intricate markings that tattoo his crimson face and chest, the impressive synthetic legs Death Watch created for him. Wasted on him. You see his hands gripping the arms of the throne tightly, a tell that he is much angrier with you than he is letting on. That small grain of power you hold over his emotions amuses you, and you smirk.

He growls. “Pathetic girl. Such disrespect will not go unpunished.”

“I do not fear punishment.”

“A lesson, then.”

You immediately feel your throat crush, and the pain of it would wind you, but you cannot breathe at all. Your body immediately panics, your eyes widen and you have to calm yourself - which is terribly difficult when you cannot breathe through it. You have seen this little trick of his before, on many of your Mandalorian brothers and sisters. He is choking you with the Force, compressing your windpipe without even touching you. His bizarre and perverse wizardry lifts you from the ground and you practically fly to the floor at his feet. You gasp as he releases you from his sorcery, and your hands immediately touch your throat. You look up at him, breathing deeply, and shake your head.

He growls, “get up.”

He smiles cruelly, looking down at you from his throne as you get your breath back. “I am in control of you, pathetic Mandalorian honour or not.”

You speak before you think, wanting only to taunt him the way he is provoking you. You know it will only incite his cruelty further, but you cannot help yourself and immaturely reply, “prove it.”

You rise, standing before the steps leading up to the throne. He scowls down at you, and you smile widely, feeling intensely bitter.

“You think this is a game, girl?”

“Clearly.”

“Then who do you suppose will win?”

You suddenly imagine yourself on top of him, running your hands across his chest, your lips on his neck, grinding your hot sex down on to his robotic hips. The thought completely throws you off guard, but you consider such impulsivity…What better way to taunt him, than to make him mad with desire for a pathetic, Mandalorian girl? And more than that, you want to make him wish that his lower half wasn’t synthetic. You want to make him crave you in every way he can, and cannot.

You are silent. He is dragging this out - and you think, maybe he really won’t kill you, after all. Some mercy. You watch him as he slowly drags his eyes up and down your body, and the revulsion you expect to surge within you does not surface. Instead, a surprising warmth pools beneath your belly button, and your breath hitches at the unforeseen pleasure of it.

The tension in the room shifts in a completely unexpected direction.

Without thinking more about it you rush up the stairs to him, but you are instantly halted - his hand grabs your neck out of reflex. He stands, one hand squeezing your throat, his other at the weapon on his belt. Your face is mere inches from his – yet he towers over you, higher on the dais, taller on his metal limbs. You grab at his arm with both hands, purposely pushing down his sleeve and grazing your fingers on the skin of his wrist.

You feel him freeze at the skin-to-skin contact. Of course. It seems so obvious now, he must be starved of physical affection. Being so depraved of touch could make anyone become like this monster. You strengthen the grip on his wrist, staring hateful, stubborn lust into his eyes, though your head fogs and your vision starts to blur from his vice-tight hold - and then he releases the grip on your throat. You suck in air desperately as you immediately throw yourself at him to kiss him before you change your mind. His skin is hot, lips surprisingly soft - but his body is solid, rigid. You grasp the back of his head tightly, throwing all your weight at him so he falls back on to the throne, and you straddle him there. He roughly pulls your face off of his by grasping at your hair and pulling, though he is sure to use his other arm to keep you secure on top of him. He glares a mix of spite and confusion at you, but you just lean forward, grunting at the harsh tug on your hair as you do so. You then tilt your face slightly with a sly grin. The edges of his lips follow your lead, and pull into a coy smile of his own. Then he kisses you back harshly, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

The next few moments are all tongue, teeth, heat, skin. His hands are gripping hard on your body, and he grunts as you kiss him madly, biting his lip, your tongue licking at his. You feel a dull, sweet ache between your legs, and kriff, you enjoy this more than you ever thought you could. What feels so good about this? Is it how you want to torture this man with the bliss of your body? Is it the physical sensation of being kissed by such a powerful yet evil creature? Is it the thrill of being on the Throne of Mandalore itself? You do not entirely know. Or care. Because all you want is friction, nothing else matters more than your crazed lust - your cunt is becoming more and more wet with every touch. Ashamed, you cannot deny how desperate your sex screams for attention from the enemy.

Maul’s hands rip at your shirt, tearing it off of your body so the only obstacle between him and your breasts is your chest wrap. He tatters that too, his gloved hands claw at you, but you push his arms off of you violently. You snarl into his mouth between heaving breaths, “if you are going to defile me, you can at least take your gloves off and let me feel you do it.”

He growls, using his sorcery to choke you into silence, pulling you back to him and glaring into your eyes.

“You do not command me, girl.”

And then he kisses you again, clearly intoxicated by your mouth, and that thought alone stirs fire in your loins. Your trachea is released from its crushing, and as you gasp for air he grasps your waist - with his hands still gloved, the bastard - moving up, up, up until he’s squeezing at your breasts hard. You grunt at the painful yet pleasurable feel of it, throwing your head back. He dives at the opportunity of your neck, kissing and biting your skin like a man starved. You moan, leaning into his sharp touch, relishing in the severe wrongness of it all. Oh, you want him, you want him so badly it makes you sick – you have never hated a man so much, yet craved him in equal intensity all the same. His rapid exploration of your naked chest swiftly motivates you to investigate his, so you claw at his shirt, revealing his hot crimson skin marked with the swirling black tattoos of a culture so foreign to your own.

He once again tugs at your hair to pull you off of him, balling it up into a strong fist and leaning your head back. As he runs his intense amber eyes across your skin, you feel entirely vulnerable. Your nipples keen into hard buds under his cold stare, and your hips rock automatically, craving touch. He snickers cruelly, and looks as if he is considering something.

“You poor, desperate thing.” He holds you still with that one fist pulling your hair, the other hand he brings to his mouth and tugs the glove from his fingers with his teeth - exposing a strong, bare, tattooed hand. A hot spike of desire zaps through your core at the sight, willing him to touch you with his bare skin. You curse yourself for the fervour with which you crave him – it makes you hate him so much more. You whimper, and he uses his bare fingers to grip the bottom of your face. “It hurts you to lust for me, doesn’t it?”

You grunt in response, and he closes the distance between you, pulling you closer. He then runs his lips and tongue up the side of your face, planting his nose in your hair and inhaling deeply.

Then he embraces you and roughly stands, spinning around and brutally throws you into the throne. You gasp as he then rips the remaining clothing from your body, so you are bare and naked beneath him, lying back on the Throne of Mandalore. You are stunned, too shocked for words, and as you look up at him in disbelief, you watch him hungrily taking in the sight of you. Naked, needy and dishevelled, a warrior stripped and scant, frantic for the intimate touch of her enemy. In this moment, you do not know who you loathe more. Him or yourself.

Everything within you burns. Maul rips off his shirt and his remaining glove, then leans over you, his hands gripping the sides of the throne.

“Oh, the things I could command you to do…but I don’t need to, do I?”

You stay quiet, seething as your desires roar from within you. He moves his hands to your knees, then pushes them apart slowly. You gently gasp as your drenched slit is fully exposed to him. He stares, and you can see a lustful fire behind his eyes, and as his hands lazily slide up your thighs, you bite back a whimper. You do your best to keep your whines and moans to yourself. You will not allow him an easy ride of your undoing, it is the only control you have left, as you have forsaken the rest of it to this illicit, traitorous intimacy. He reaches the top of your legs, but then stops before he reaches your soaked, aching cunt – it stirs a blaze of warmth that heightens your wetness, and a rage so violent you growl in disdain as he stands up and steps back.

“Stand,” he commands.

As he backs away, you slowly bring yourself to your feet, obeying him, yet glaring daggers into him.

“Come towards me.”

You walk down the steps, and then stop just before him. He saunters up to you, then begins to circle you, embracing the sorry sight of you, naked, vulnerable, at his disposal. You feel the glow of warmth in your cheeks, the heaviness of his eyes making you burn in shame and throb in lust. He stops behind you and then roughly pulls you into him, his arms snaking around your body to cup your breasts. He bites hard into your neck and presses his chest up to your back, and you melt at the heat of his skin. He then clumsily pulls you backwards onto the throne. He is stoic beneath you with you on his lap, and now your legs are spread wide and his hand is between them. A rash, loud mewl falls from your lips as he finally touches you.

His other hand holds you still by your throat, and his mouth is at your ear, and you can hear him grunt his own moans as he feels just how wet you are for him. You cannot see it, but you can just sense that smug, sadistic smile on his lips.

���Liar,” he purrs, as he runs a finger up and down the slickness of your folds. “Your body betrays you, girl.” He begins to lightly rub your clitoris, and the sweet jolts of pleasure allows a tentative groan to slip from your lips.

“Do not pretend for me, poor, fierce thing.”

He rubs you faster, and you arch into him. His grip tightens at your throat as he works you, and you growl in contempt at how euphoric this feels. He sinks a finger inside of you, and you whimper at the sweet intrusion, losing control of your reactions entirely. His breathy moans in your ear undoes something within you, and you cry out in pleasure as he uses his strong hand and fingers to fuck you.

“Oh you burn for me, you lying, deceitful girl.”

He slowly becomes more ruthless with his touch, and his whispers turn darker, his voice rich and aggressive.

“You see, you can serve your ruler well,” he murmurs, “such a tough front, yet in truth, so soft and wet.”

His cruel taunting, his harsh touch – it begins to swell and scorch deep within you, and you feel a treacherous climax begin to blossom from the flames.

You strain against him, whimpering at the fire he is fuelling within you with his malicious mutterings. You cry out a desperate moan as he grips at your throat tighter, and fucks your slickness harder, using two fingers, then three.

The ecstatic dull ache of being stretched out and mercilessly fucked by his hand almost tips you over the edge, but you breathe heavily through the urge to give in to your looming orgasm. He keeps going, and going, growling as he penetrates you deeper, harder, faster. You lose yourself, you lose your time and all of your morals in the bliss of it.

“Give it up, you wicked, deceptive girl,” he eventually growls, “I can feel it in you, your peak is so close.” You bear down onto his fingers, and he bites the lobe of your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your back.

He growls like a wild animal, then demands, “give in to your frenzy, girl,” and he callously adds, “I command it as your ruler.”

You sob a furious moan as the heat builds and builds and snaps, and you are flooded with the ecstasy of a white hot, scalding orgasm. Your hatred festers in your chest as your climax floods your nerves. You whine at how Maul growls his own pleasurable moans, holding you tightly throughout. He purrs, taking a deep inhale of your hair as you try and recover your senses.

“I will keep you alive,” he decides, turning your chin to make you look at him. “There is much more to be explored here, it seems.”

You cannot speak, your post-orgasm haze still smouldering through your veins.

“Now go, leave me. I have much to prepare.”

You shoot him a glare of disbelief as he throws you to the ground. You collect yourself as best you can, your cheeks scalding in humiliation. Did your plan work? Potentially. You are alive, and he seems to be interested in further…relations with you.

As you watch him smirk down at you, you cannot help but clench your jaw in fury.

It seems that you too, have much to prepare.

#maul smut #darth maul fanfiction #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #maul x you #darth maul #maul #darth maul fanfic #star wars the clone wars #eloquentmoon #lemon #fanfic #fanfiction #star wars fanfic