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yonch · 4 months

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it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever

(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)

ok this got really long. here you go

sif:

ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.

ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.

they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.

they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.

they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers

41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.

isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes

isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork

he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...

kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife

can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!

39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand

mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend

i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her

speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.

she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.

moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.

38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3

odile:

my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay

she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.

she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.

64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"

bonnie:

prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)

speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)

26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise

loop:

ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.

i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that

i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.

ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.

#isat #in stars and time #siffrin #siffrin isat #isafrin #isat game #postgame isat #loop #isabeau #mirabelle #odile #bonnie #boniface #spoilers are only under the read more #my drawings #etoile tag

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giffenprep · 28 days

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For Mother's Day - Part II

In Part I - The Request, despite being a freshman in college, I asked my Mom to start spanking me again for being rude or yelling or disrespecting her. She didn't have to think long before she agreed.

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“I guess that means you’re going to have to spank me, then,” I say.

“I guess that means I am,” Mom agrees.

“Not today, though. I mean, unless you really want to.”

“No, not today.”

“Don’t want to ruin your Mother’s Day,” I explain.

“Oh, I don’t know that that would ruin it, under the circumstances,”

“Under the circumstances?”

“Well, it isa gift, like you said. So today would be okay, just to try it out,” she informs me. “Why? Are you planning on being rude to me?”

“No, of course not! I just thought… you know, for past times, or, like, just so I’d know.”

“What you should know is that every spanking would be just like before when you were little. By that I mean a lot of kicking and crying, a whole lot. Maybe a little less with the ‘carrying on’, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Um, yeah, understood.”

“But I’m not going to spank you for before. I punished you for some of those things and have probably forgotten all the others,” she says sweetly. I know there’s no way she’s forgotten some of our fights, or things I’ve said, just from things she’s said afterward, or even recently. But I definitely don’t argue.

Then she says, “Though if you just want to know, I could ‘remind’ you. Maybe this evening, or, sometime soon.”

You have to understand that I’ve felt like I needed to be spanked off and on (mostly on) for years. Now that we’ve gotten this far, I’m a little bit anxious to get one (and really anxious about getting one). “That might be a good idea,” I say.

“You won’t like it,” she tells me, “I can guarantee it.”

“I, ah, believe you.”

“Let’s say tomorrow night, then,” she decides, and my heart is in my throat. “BUT! You can’t be bad before then, because then I don’t know what I’ll do!”

“Yes, Mom. I’ll be good,” I promise.

“Good. Then I could give you a little warning so you’ll want to keep being good.”

“Ah, I thought…”

“Yessss?” she asks.

“I thought I was getting a real one,” I say for some reason.

“Yes, maybe you should. A ‘warning’ might give you the wrong idea of what you’re in for, and ot discourage you enough.”

I’m already regretting what I said. That last thing, definitely, and maybe a lot of the rest.

“Now!” she suddenly pronounces, making me jump, “No more talk about this until tomorrow night! Let’s enjoy my Mother’s Day!”

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I spend an anxious 24+ hours waiting for my first spanking in over ten years. I don’t do anything ‘bad’ (I rarely do anyway) but I’m very aware of what’s waiting for me. On the one hand, something I’ve thought I’ve needed for years, on the other hand, a spanking my Mom has promised will be a kicking-crying ordeal.

“Let’s let our dinners digest a bit,” Mom suggests, “And then we have a little matter to attend to.” This is the first she’s mentioned it since yesterday, and I didn’t dare. I immediately go to use the bathroom, not only suddenly needing to pee but not knowing when I’d get another chance. I turn on the TV and halfway watch some program on steaming, barely knowing which one it is. The instant it’s over, she says, “Okay, let’s go.” Somehow I expected that it would be much closer to bedtime.

But it isn’t.

Soon she’s sitting on a chair tapping a brush on her hand. The brush she’s going to spank me with.

She offers me an out.

"You really think you want me to do this right now? Exactly the way I'm going to when you're really in trouble with me? "Honestly, I'm okay with waiting until you actually deserve it for something." I shake my head. "No? Well, maybe it is best if you learn here and now what you're getting yourself into with me. "I guess." "I'll warn you, though, there's no changing your mind once I start. And you're going you wish this was over a lot sooner than it will be, so you'd better be sure!"

A silent nod is all it takes.

“Alright, then, just take everything off. It’ll be easier that way.”

My mouth drops open and she glares at me. “You said you’d go along with this. You’d better do as I say!”

After that warning I waste no time in tearing off my clothes. She sounds serious!

At the last second she says, “Not underwear. Leave those on. I’ll take them down myself, like a good spanking mom should!” I don’t know whether to cover my crotch or my face, I’m so embarrassed!

“Now, right here is where you’ll stand when I have to spank you,” Mom explains, pointing to a spot next to her. “Then I’ll just take these down so your backside is all the way bare, because that’s the only way to spank.” And she does, with me not knowing where to look.

“And you’ll put yourself over my lap,” (which I waste no time doing), “And, as we’ve discussed, you’re about to get a very bad spanking that will make you wish you hadn’t done what you did and help be sure that you don’t want to do it again.”

Then she stops. “On second hand, there’s no way you’ll be able to hold still for this, and no way I can hold you down properly while I’m trying to spank you, so get up.” I do, more embarrassed than ever, and she parts her legs. “Lie over this leg, and I’ll use the other to try to keep you in place.” Once in this position I’m way more convinced that I am not getting up and that she’s about to spank me very hard.

“You mentioned rudeness,” she says, “Let’s use that for this example. I’m sure there have been more times than I can count, but we’ll say this is just one. And yes, I know you’re sorry,” I nod my head vigorously, “but let’s just be sure,” she says, tapping the brush on my butt and making me jump.

Here goes, I think, what I deserve.

“Yelling at me will be quite a bit worse, and lying to me, like I said, will be a whole different story,” she explains as she taps and I cringe at the thought. “Things you do wrong, we’ll just deal with as we go.

“It starts fast,” she warns, “and it’s over fast, though you might not think so. Try to hold still, at least, the best you can, and don’t interfere. Don’t get up until I tell you to, even if I stop.”

I try to nod my assent but I’m interrupted by a shock of pain! Mom brings the flat of the brush down on my cheek with the full power of her arm behind it (it must be!). I can’t even react before she does it again and again.

I try to be good and hold still but there’s no way. Thanks to this position, I guess, that doesn’t bother her and she just keeps it up. I’m getting spanked! I think, and I hate it!

Unfortunately, that realization doesn’t change anything. When Mom said that it ‘might not’ seem short to me, she wasn’t kidding! Her leg is the only reason I’m not kicking more, and I reach back (even though I’m not supposed to) but I can’t quite do any good! After dozens of smacks in about the same place I am crying loudly and I’m sure she’d say I’m ‘carrying on’.

Over and over I try to ‘accept’ this as my fair punishment (it is) but I just can’t. That doesn’t seem to matter at all. I don’t know if she’d be saying something if this was for I had done wrong more immediately, but all I hear is ‘oh, no you don’t’ when I reach back and ‘that’s better’ and stuff when I don’t.

At last she stops all of the sudden, saying ‘Whew!” I’m still squirming and dodging spanks I’m not even getting, but I calm down pretty quickly. Maybe I’m lucky because I almost immediately think, “I deserved that,” and, like she said, “I never want to do that again!”

“Okay,” Mom says in a really nice voice, “Just kneel down right here. All done,” and I think ‘Thank God!’. I do as she says and she leans me into her, stroking my head and giving me a hug, ignoring my runny nose.

“Wow! That was bad, wasn’t it?” she asks as I nod. “I bet you won’t want another one of those!

“You see? It won’t take many of those before you stop doing anything that’s likely to get you spanked, will it?” Hearing ‘many of those’ makes me shake my head violently and my crying worsen in self-pity.

I can think clearly enough to say what I’ve been thinking for a long time. “I’m sorry I needed that, Mom.”

“It’s okay, sweetie,” she tells me. “Let’s just hope you don’t need any more.” I nod, slowly this time. Somehow, I probably will, for one thing or another.

“You know, I think you’re right,” Mom tells me, once again stroking my hair, “This might just be the best Mother’s Day present ever.”

#mom agrees to spank me #mom #strict mom #dialogue #post

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thekrows-nest · 2 years

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*wiggles inside askbox* So I have a very maybe specific scenario of jealous!Krow and Scarlet (Dove OC) in mind so I decided to word vomit it in your asks c: Basically, a situation where Krow had bought time with Scarlet like always but some sort of rather rich client comes up, pushes a lot of money onto the counter and demands whatever schedule Scarlet had to be cancelled and send her to him instead. It just so happens that Krow is there too (waiting for Scarlet to show up) and when Scarlet does show up so she can go with him (maybe even gave him a smile cuz she's comfortable w him 💕🥲), the man grabs her by her shoulders still demanding to take her time. Scarlet to make the man less aggraviated may say something like "Calm down there sweetheart~ How are you going to do me if you use all your energy being angry? You gotta save a bit" and just being the flirty way she is used to be with clients but ofc we got Krow there 👀💃 Anygays to stop my word vomiting, maybe we can have the man trying to drag Scarlet out by force and some jelly Krow action 😏😏 OKAY THAT IS ALL MY DAYDREAMING BYEEEE

🔞MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞

Hoo boy, is it on like Donkey Kong.

Krow would have put the deposit down at the counter, only the barest of polite smiles to the one manning the space. "F-for Scarlet. Please." It wasn't necessary for him to have said that, they knew who Krow was here for. He was here for only one of the girls, ever. He intended to take up as much time of Scarlet's as possible, it was all he could do until he made enough to spring her out of this hellhole. He was getting closer, he just needed a bit more, if he could find someone suitable--

A man entered, with a suit that screamed more money than (fashion) sense, and one of the kind of people Krow loathed for their mightier than thou attitude. All cause they won life's lottery by being born into extreme privilege. They still bled the same though.

He had put down an obscene amount of money at the counter, but the name her had given made Krow's blood run cold.

"Scarlet. Make sure all other appointments with her are canceled tonight."

How dare he. Krow clenched a hand into a fist, bringing it to his lips and biting into his first finger, eyes glimmering green. How dare he.

Scarlet came from one of the back rooms, and Krow pulled his hand back. Their gazes met, and she smiled at him, genuinely happy to see him, and he couldn't help but smile back. But the moment was brief.

The man stepped toward Scarlet, grasping her shoulders roughly, demanding he be seen, now. Krow heard her try calm him down, using that fake flirtatious voice of hers. This couldn't stand.

Getting to his feet, Krow quickly apporached the, grasping his arm rather firmly and making him turn to face him.

"G-get away from h-her."

Krow looked up to the man, eyes darkened, pupils an eerie, noxious green, yet the man seemed unperturbed by this, merely giving something like a scoff and a scowl.

"What are you doing here past your bedtime kid? Shouldn't you run along home to mom--"

There was a sudden shriek from the man as Krow had grasped his arm more, putting another hand on it, pulling it off from Scarlet's shoulder and twisting it hard.

"I said. Get. Away. From. Her."

Krow pushed the man away from Scarlet, moving in quick to stand between her and them, all the while glaring at the man. He rubbed a hand at the injured arm, shooting the much shorter man a glare.

"You little-- do you know who I am?!"

"N-no. And I-I don't care. Y-you're some l-lowlife s-scum that bullies his way w-with everything. I-I'm being nice. Get out. O-or I will MAKE y-you get out."

The man scoffs again, still holding his arm, and goes to the counter, rudely taking his money back.

"I will find you, you punk stuttering son of a bitch. My lawyers will hear about this."

"Do it. I-I'll LOVE f-for you to e-explain where this... altercation occurred." You won't live long enough to see the results anyway.

Another glare was cast from the man, as he took his money and left the brothel in shame, metaphorical tail between his legs. Krow soon after turned to Scarlet, eyes their normal violet hue.

"I-I'm sorry Dove, f-for being so aggressive. I-I just... I couldn't. F-forgive me? ...M-may we... g-go to the back?" He gives a small, meek smile, like a scolded child seeking forgiveness, with a yearning gaze.

This wasn't a scene he wanted to cause, and certainly if his Beloved weren't here now, he might go after that man. But that could wait another night. Tonight, he was with his Songbird, and he wanted to hear her sing.

#about krow #krow asked and answered #naughty krow #krow in character #look he was ready to stab a motherfucker #but he couldn't right then and there #not in front of his Dove #he'll find him later #he's got that dude's face in his memory banks #and besides he can always ask beloved Scarlet for deets #krow stories #ah adding a tag ruined the coloring this is pain

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

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Investigations (Part 3): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

synopsis: when things are uncovered, can you handle the truth? Or are you doomed to make a mistake you can't rectify?

wc: 2.1k

tw: violence

masterlist

song recommendation:

Ran's past was a lie.

When you met him at the country club five years ago, your pasts had been explained in hushed tones and excited flurries of memories; sharing photos of the time before he was an executive of the communications company he worked in and the time before you were a journalist.

Ran said he had gone to jail twice, both for crimes he had been an accessory to as a delinquent kid, but that he'd cleaned up his act after and made his way up the corporate ladder. Nothing about gangs or being a Heavenly King in Tenjiku made it past his lips.

You had been honest, too. Your tales included the time you'd accidentally happened upon a massive gang fight, and that's how your investigative journalism skills began to bloom.

Who was fighting?

What were they going to do after?

Where did these gangs come from?

When did this argument start?

Why were they fighting?

How did gangs form in the first place?

Those were all the questions you sought out answers for that night and the next five years after, devoting your time and effort to finding the truth about everything.

"Babe?" You freeze, hands hovering over the keys at the sound of Ran's voice. You don't turn around - you can't even look at him the same these days - but he fixes that by walking over to you and turning you around in your chair. "What are you doing up so late?"

"Just doing some writing." His violet eyes search yours for the truth, but you know he won't be able to find it. Not while you're still trying to unravel his past. Ran kisses your eyelids sweetly, cupping your face in his large palms and littering his love across your face as you try your best to remain still and not confess about your research.

"Come to bed. It's late."

"I've got a few more paragraphs," you explain, motioning to the small print on your screen. "I'll be in bed soon."

But your lie is discovered shortly thereafter. It's five a.m. when Ran returns, seeing you slumped against your desk, arms cushioning your head, laptop screen blank. Instinctively, Ran pulls you out of your seat - making your notebook fall to the ground - grunting softly as he scoops you up into his arms and cradles you against his chest.

You willingly allow your husband to carry you to bed, where your two-year-old is also nestled among the sheets and pillows, thumb tucked into his mouth. And for a moment, Ran appreciates the view, seeing the two people he loved the most - besides his younger brother - laying in the bed he paid for, in the house he built, in the city he owns.

But then he remembers the slight disarray you left your things in at the desk and returns, picking up your pencil and notebook before laying them beside the laptop. Then his eyes catch "Ran's past?" written in bold, red letters, along with the words: "Tenjiku" and "Tandai" also written in the web of other words surrounding his name. "South Terano" is also on that web.

He'd have to take care of that in the morning.

And for the first time in a long time, worry bubbles to the surface of his mind, and Ran rips the sheet of paper from your notebook, tossing it into the kitchen trashcan and considering his deed done. He concealed his past to protect his family. And he's concealing the present to achieve the same goal; all for the future to be revealed later. That's how everything should be.

Right? _____________________________________________________________

"Ran," you whisper, lips running across his knuckles. His fingers cup your jaw, and his own lips press against your forehead, violet eyes darkening slightly. "It's six am. Where are you going this early?"

"I have to go into the office for a little while," he murmurs, kissing your forehead again. "I'll be back around lunchtime." Thoughts of Tandai and Tenjiku flash into your mind for a moment, but you smile at him sleepily anyway, absolutely sure these things are part of his past and not in the present.

"We'll be waiting for you, my love."

Despite all of your best intentions, though, you can't help but be consumed by the idea of Ran out, fighting, stealing, maiming... You consider asking him about these things, these concerns, but you decide against it as you're helping Kai with his lunch. If he wanted to leave it in the past, there's a good reason for it. He would have told you if it would be a problem later. Right?

Ran wouldn't jeopardize your family, your home, your life for something so... juvenile.

Right?

The clatter of keys on the counter in the living room brings you back to the present, and you perk up, your two-year-old mimicking your expression.

"Daddy!" Kai slides down from his seat and runs to greet Ran, clutching his father's legs with all his little might.

"Hey, buddy," Ran laughs, stooping to pick up his son with excitement. "How are you doing?" As son and father have a very stimulating conversation about playtime, you watch them in wonder, observing the way Ran makes his child a priority, just like he makes you a priority. But your countenance falls as soon as you see the blood spot on the bottom of Ran's lavender suit jacket. You know its blood because of the way it dried - that's no ketchup stain.

You fake a smile anyway, giving Ran a kiss on the cheek and tugging his jacket off after he sits Kai back on the tile floor.

"Hard day?"

"Kind of," Ran mumbles, and you catch the sight of a long scratch down the side of his neck. "But I made it through." You hum, taking the pin-striped jacket to the laundry room and slinging it over the side of the washer. You'd need that later.

"Need to relax?" you wonder, and Ran grins at you mischievously.

"Maybe later, after bedtime?"

_____________________________________________________________

But "later" never came.

Instead, Ran and Kai fell asleep on the sofa, watching a kid's movie, and you retreated to the office, powering up your laptop and pulling your notebook closer.

You immediately notice something's wrong, as the notes you had before were missing. Everything is gone. Not even a word of all the research you had done was there. Hadn't you written meticulous notes and names and things about Ran's past that could be interconnected? You break out in a sweat and search in every drawer of the desk, every place it could possibly be. You come up with nothing, and let out a frustrated sigh before slumping down in your seat and pulling up the computer history from yesterday. If you had to rewrite every single thing, that's fine. You'd just need more time to gather your evidence for the meeting on Saturday.

You're knee-deep in articles and police reports when you stumble across a more recent - actually as recent as this morning - article titled: "Ex-gangster found dead in meat factory". The picture of South Terano startles you, and you click on it, feeling a sense of dread as the article details how he was found hanging upside-down in the warehouse with a bullet hole in his head. And just like that, your newest lead has fizzled out. You groan, writing down "South Terano, deceased" on your notepad, then exiting the tab.

There had to be someone else you could ask. Shuji Hanma only provided you with Ran and Rindou's names, no one else.

"What's this?"

The door to the office shuts softly, and you look over your shoulder at Ran, who is walking toward you with measured steps, his eyes taking in your exhausted expression and the way you're hunched over that notepad. Again.

"What are you doing? You look tired, babe. Let's go to bed, yeah?"

Suddenly, pieces begin to click as Ran leans his hip against the desk, staring down at you in the chair with squinted violet eyes. "You threw away my notes... Didn't you?"

"What are you doing in my business, y/n?"

"Why didn't you tell me that you were in two gangs?" you counter, fingers shaking slightly. "Ran, this is something I needed to know before--"

"You wouldn't have married me if I told you." Ran's tone is cold, almost as if he's turned into the past version of himself without batting an eye.

"You don't know that." Ran leans forward, coming to eye level with you a smirking.

"I know you. And that's all I need." Ran reaches out a hand to close the laptop, still smiling and maintaining eye contact. "Now here's what you're going to do. First, you're going to stop digging into my past. There's nothing there that you need to find. Second, you're going to come to bed. It's late, you're tired. Finally," Ran cups your chin like he did this morning, except his fingers aren't so tender this time. "You're going to cut off contact with both Shuji Hanma and Taiju Shiba. I'm not really fond of either of them, and I'm not a fan of having them tell my business to my wife."

"They were only doing it because I asked."

"Taiju, maybe. Shuji isn't so eager to fuck you. I doubt he did it out of the kindness of his heart." You can't say anything to refute his claims. Ran is probably right. But you can't get one question out of your mind.

"Why are you trying to hide your past? What's there that I won't like?"

"What isn't there is the real question."

"What can you tell me about the gang that's just surfaced in Tokyo?" Ran's face slackens, transforming into a half-surprised, half-blank look that you realize is one that means he's been caught. "Oh, my fucking god," you breathe, tears stinging your eyes. "South, the fish, the murders, the crime... It's you. It's been you this whole time. I've been chasing my own husband down." Panic begins to set in, and your mind whirls around as you shake in your seat, bringing your hands up to your head. "Just tell me Rindou isn't in this," you breathe, but Ran doesn't answer you, still wearing that dumb look on his face. You let out a cry of shock, covering your mouth and trying to back away from Ran as much as you can.

The source is a lot closer than you think.

You slide down the wall, shocked into stillness as your sobs quiet, and Ran straightens up, placing his hands in his sweatpant pockets. The long nights, the early mornings, the bloodstains, the damn suits... It all led to this. Ran had never really left his old lifestyle behind. He'd gotten caught up in it, and brought you and Kai into it unknowingly.

"I never meant for it to get this... unhinged." You can't reply, tucking your knees into your chest as you stare past Ran and at the opposite wall, wondering how you'd missed the signs, the obvious signs that Ran was up to no good. "I know this is a lot to take in, but we can--"

"I can't stay here."

The words fall from your mouth and Ran flinches, shaking his head.

"No. You can't leave."

"Yes, I can," you mumble, standing and wiping your tears. "I can do whatever I need to do to keep Kai safe, and--"

"Kai is safer here than out there," Ran snaps, pointing at the window. "I'm not letting my son out of my sight. Your snooping has caused enough trouble as it is; I wouldn't have had to go and clean up this morning if you hadn't--"

"Don't blame this on me," you retort, pointing at Ran accusatorially. "You're the one who joined a gang and is still in one! What kind of role model are you for our son now?"

"I provide the best way I can," Ran grits out, clenching his fists. "You've never gone hungry, cold, or ill-clothed a day in your life while you were with me."

"I would rather die than enjoy a life paid for with blood money."

"Blood money? You really think--" You try to push past Ran, but he grabs your shoulders, yanking you back in front of him. "You're not going anywhere except to our bed."

"Let me go, Ran Haitani," you mutter, hands balling up into little fists. "Or I'll scream."

"Who will hear you? Kai?"

How had you been so foolish? Ran's lips press together momentarily as his violet eyes run over your figure, taking stock of all your five-foot-six stature. You're no match for Ran. Not mentally, and certainly not physically. Ran notices your defeat and his hands slide down to your wrists, tugging your delicate hands up to his chest.

"Everything will be fine," he whispers, drawing you close. "I'm taking care of us. Just trust me."

Just trust me.

#ran haitani x reader #ran haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers

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liliability · 4 years

Text

Box Boy Auden- Eavesdropping

Learning a bit more about Daniel Cortes and Sara Bittencourt, a complicated couple with questionable motives behind the purchase of a Domestic/Romantic Box Boy.

First Chapter

CW: Box Boy Universe, briefly references to pet whump, dehumanizating mindset, argument, Sexy and Unedited. The Box Boy in question is 17. No direct whump in this piece, just an inside of Sir and Ma’ams minds.

Daniel Cortes thought his life would settle, once he moved with his wife to the mountains. Stay in his father-in-law's old mansion, leave the leadership of the company to his oldest son, avoid the press after one absurd and yet intrusive polemic with some self-righteous bastard CEO involved with the pet lib movement or whatever performative shit they called themselves.

Instead, he found himself in a new stressful routine, meeting with his lawyer - the boy can't be taken away, the acquisition was legal, it's all just in case, he reassures himself-, trying in vain to talk to his children and tensing, watching attentively as those damned names appeared now and then in the journal or TV- the list was once short, but now there are so many names and colorless faces disturbing his mind.

The Box Boy, needless to say, was a concern on his own, but every time Daniel could relieve his interminable stress in the kid, in many different ways, were a remind of how worthy the purchase was. But still, he couldn't trust the half-trained Boxie the same way his wife did.

When he got up in that morning to pick up his ringing cellphone, early and impossibly loud, Sara was already sitting in the living room's sofa, dressed in a bright red cardigan, waiting for him. She turned off the phone before he could enter the room.

"Who was in the phone?" His voice was still tired from the night before.

"Oh, nothing, just an alarm". Daniel lowered himsef to kiss her forehead. "Slept well, I think. Are you going to stay for breakfast? Auden's in the kitchen making tapioca. They have coconut and condensed milk, just how you like".

"You like. If one of us have a sweet tooth, it would certainly be you". He couldn't keep the smile out of his face. "But unfortunately I can’t. Have to go to the city. Today's Davi's day off and he wanted to talk to me in person."

Sara was suddenly irritated, as she always got when Daniel talked about his kids from an old marriage, the only people in the world that could compete with her for his attention.

"Don't worry honey, I'll be back in the afternoon".

"Some of my clients wants to meet me in the afternoon. The Art Deco bride, the one with the flower wall and the vintage bar carts. I'll be at her home by 3 pm, I think".

Daniel frowned at her answer.

"Wait, her house? Are you planning to leave Auden here, alone?"

"I mean...yes?" Sara didn't seem so bothered. "She lives nearly, I won’t be gone for that long. The doors will be locked, no domestic chores, he won't hurt himself and is not like he would ever try to run".

Daniel snorted. "I'm not so sure of that".

"Oh, don’t start it now. We can always find him with the tracking chip. And why would he even do it? Last night, he kneeled and tilted his head for me just to be able to use a towel. That's how he was taught to ask for something, and you’d want to see how thankful he got because I didn’t force him to go downstairs and cook stark naked, although that would be an interesting scene to watch." She grinned maliciously, but her features were sweet and harmless again within a few seconds. "He's a pet with benefits now, and I doubt he has enough braincells in that pretty little skull to even think about running away".

“Naive” Daniel spat out.

Sara raised from the sofa, visibly astonished. “What did you said?”

"That's very naive, to see the kid as brainless for not speaking his mind when this option was taken away from him, in the first place. The truth is that no one could tell what's going on in his head." The man leaned against the wall and muttered the rest to himself, slightly wishing she could hear him anyway. "From all the people, you should be the one to know better".

Sara's face was almost red, not from embarrassment but from being contradicted, like a spoiled child being denied a toy. An irony, as Sara got exactly the toy that she wanted.

"What makes you suspicious about Auden?"

"When we're asleep, he walks around the house and thinks I don't know it. Last week, I caught him awake past his bedtime, staring at the windows, watching th- no, let me finish it- watching the backyard where the cars come and go. The kid almost passed out when he saw me in the room and started his nonsense shit to beg without words". Daniel's eyes suddenly darkened. "It's usually fun to see him do it but I had no patience for that in the moment. I just put him back to bed, but caught him doing the same thing the next day. Your handler friend said he could probably still know how to read, and I have no doubt that he had been messing with my office shelves and taking my books behind our backs".

Sara sighed audibly, crossing her arms.

"So, that's it? What do you even want me to do?"

"I wish you would discipline better your pet, as he had always been more yours than mine, and maybe do your part of the deal."

"My part of the deal?" The woman nearly laughed with disbelief. "You're not expecting that I will stay home all the time, are you? I got my helpful, gorgeous boy to fill the gap that my friends and my husband left in my life and you got your sadistic vengeance at a cost way lower than you expected. That, that was the deal!"

Daniel opened his mouth to argue but his wife interrupted him, a little less emotive this time.

"I miss meeting my clients in person, ok? I miss my former life. This city, it was your idea to move to the mountains. Not mine. Do you think I was excited to move to my father's former house? I went along with it, for you. But I was clear with him and I'll be very clear with you, too. I won't be the one to compromise anymore".

Auden never speaks unless he's told to, but he hear and watches his surroundings like a skittish stray that never grow out of the fear that it's going to be kicked at any time.

The boy thought he was the first to hear the phone ringing, but was surprised to find Ma'am already in the living room, touching Sir's phone with a cold, unreadable face. Then the older man appeared too, and the two started talking.

Neither of them noticed the boy in the nearest room.

It was tempting to listen their conversation, especially when he could hear his name. Sir said he was going to the city again, and Auden wished Ma'am could make him change his mind, keep the three of them safe and cozy under the soft blankets like the night before, but she seemed to have her own plans, too.

Auden would be alone. Again.

It's not the same, he has a name and his own collar now, a black piece of leather soothingly buckled around his pale neck, and that means he's safe. He's wanted.

"Are you planning to leave Auden here, alone?"

Sir was always disappointed when Auden had to learn a new thing in the mansion, and he and Ma’am were the only ones that could instruct him. Usually some specific cuisine, or an unusual domestic duty, that he hadn't been taught in the Facility. Interrupted training, he heard at more than one point.

But Sir and Ma'am had unconsciously taught him how to read a room, too, just by some people's face or a shift of voice. He used that knowledge to know when his owners were upset or stressed. He knew when he had to be good enough to lighten their mood.

He could also tell that their conversation would soon turn into an argument but he could do nothing to stop it. He wasn’t supposed to listen, for a start.

"...And is not like he would ever try to run". Ma'am was right. Auden could never and the simple thought of it made him tremble and lower his head. He was grateful for having owners so nice. A kind Sir that pets his hair and lets him help with the woodcraft and a gentle Ma'am that pampers him and show him pictures of her beautiful flowers.

"We can always find him with the tracking chip". Does he have... a tracking chip? Auden didn't know that. Where could it possibly be?

"That's very naive, to see the kid as brainless for not speaking his mind when this option was taken away from him, in the first place. The truth is that no one could tell what's going on in his head." Sir words were harsh and hurtful for Auden. He had been made for the couple. A perfect custom pet, an enviable combination built to fulfill his owners desire.

But still, standing in an empty lounge listening to his owner's conversation, despite the throbbing headache telling him it was wrong, Auden couldn't help but wonder if Sir was right, if something had slipped between his training and his arrival making him defective. Untrustworthy. Maybe it was something that was never a part of him, in the first place.

And he wondered, silently, what he could do to make up for that.

-Tagging: @albino-whumpee @eatyourdamnpears @whumpfigure @orchidscript @cubeswhump @more-miserables @whatwasmyprevioususername @castielamigos-whump-side-blog . Ask/Comment to be added or removed from the taglist!

[Question]: Is anyone interested in Auden’s WRU Intake Papers? Thinking about dropping some hints of Auden’s backstory in it.

#whump #pet whump #box boy universe #Auden the Combined Boxie #eavesdropping #Sara Bittencourt #Daniel Cortes #can you tell i was raised watching novelas?

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heavyarethecrowns · 7 years

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Charles wanting to be a tampon. An Urban myth retold as truth.

Here is transcript of the conversation. Tampon part highlighted. And as you judge, remember this was an illegally recorded private sexy conversation between 2 lovers that was never meant for the public.

' T H E C A M I L L A G A T E T A P E S ' Full Transcript of a telephone conversation between Prince Charles and Camilla Parker Bowles the 45 year old wife of a brigadier. The six minute bedtime conversation is said to be recorded by a scanner user on December 18th 1989. There are also reports that infact the conversation was recorded by MI5 at GCHQ and re-broadcasted several times in the hope a scanner user would record it and leak it to the papers. There is also reports that infact 27 other similar tapes exist in the MI5 vaults. First published in an Australia Magazine 'New idea' and then followed by press in Germany, America, Italy, Switzerland and Ireland. It was then published in the Daily Sport circulation 210,000 and Kent Today Circulation 34,000. It was also widely faxed from machine to machine in the House of Commons, Business centres and in the civil service around the U.K including the security services of course. Finally two major newspapers the Sunday Mirror and Sunday People printed in it full on 17th January 1993 making it available to the millions. Now it's available to you for no charge, See what you think. The tape begins a small way though the conversation and lasts six minutes until Charles hangs the phone up. Charles: He was a bit anxious actually Camilla: Was he? Charles: He thought he might of gone too far. Camilla: Ah well. Charles: Anyway you know that's the sort of thing one has to beware of. And sort of feel one's way along with - if you know what I mean. Camilla: Mmmm. You're awfully good feeling your way along. Charles: Oh Stop! I want to feel my way along you, all over you and up and down you and in and out... Camilla: Oh! Charles: Particularly in and out! Camilla: Oh. that's just what I need at the moment. Charles: Is it? At this point the scanner enthusiast speaks over the couple to record the date Scanner Enthusiast: December 18th Camilla: I know it would revive me. I can't bear a Sunday night without you. Charles: Oh, God. Camilla: It's like that programme Start the Week. I can't start the week without you. Charles: I fill up your tank! Camilla: Yes, you do Charles: Then you can cope. Camilla: Then I'm all right Charles: What about me? The trouble is I need you several times a week. Camilla: Mmmm, so do I. I need you all the week. All the time. Charles: Oh. God. I'll just live inside your trousers or something. It would be much easier! Camilla: (laughing) "what are you going to turn into, a pair of knickers? Both laugh Camilla: Oh, You're your'e going to come back as a pair of knickers. Charles: Or, God forbid a Tampax. Just my luck! (Laughs) Camilla: You are a complete idiot (Laughs) Oh, what a wonderful idea. Charles: My luck to be chucked down the lavatory and go on and on forever swirling round on the top, never going down. Camilla: (Laughing) Oh, Darling! Charles: Until the next one comes through. Camilla: Oh, perhaps you could come back as a box. Charles: What sort of box? Camilla: A box of Tampax, so you could just keep going. Charles: That's true. Camilla: Repeating yourself...(Laughing) Oh, darling I just want you now. Charles: Do You? Camilla: Mmmmm Charles: So do I! Camilla: Desperately, desperately. Oh, I thought of you so much at Yaraby. Charles: Did you? Camilla: Simply mean we couldn't be there together. Charles: Desperate. If you could be here - I long to ask Nancy sometimes. Camilla: Why don't you? Charles: I daren't Camilla: Because I think she's in love with you. Charles: Mmm. Camilla: She'd do anything you asked. Charles: She'd tell all sorts of people. Camilla: No, she wouldn't because she'd be much too frightened of what you might say to her. I think you've got - I'm afraid it's a terrible thing to say - but I think , you know, those sort of people do feel very strongly about you. You've got such a hold over her. Charles: Really? Camilla: And you're..... I think, as usual, you're underestimating yourself. Charles: But she might be terribly jealous or something. Camilla: Oh! (Laughs) Now that's a point! I wonder, she might be, I suppose. Charles: You never know, do you? Camilla: No, The little green eyed monster might be lurking inside her. No, But I mean the thing is your'e so good when people are so flattered to be taken into your confidence, but I don't know they'd betray you. You know, real friends. Charles: Really? Camilla: I don't (Pause) Camilla: Gone to sleep? Charles: No, I'm here. Camilla: Darling, listen I talked to David tonight again. It might not be any good. Charles: Oh, no!! Camilla: I'll tell you why. He's got these children of one of those Crawley girls and their nanny staying. He's going. I'm going to ring him again tomorrow. He's going to try and out them off till Friday. But as an alternative, perhaps I might ring up Charlie. Charles: Yes Camilla: And see if we could do it there. I know he is back on Thursday. Charles: It's quite a lot further away. Camilla: Oh, is it? Charles: Well, I'm just trying to think. coming from Newmarket. Camilla: Coming from Newmarket to me at that time of night, you could probably do it in two and three quarters, It takes me three. Charles: What to go to, Um, Bowood? Camilla: Northmore. Charles: To go to Bowood? Camilla: To go to Bowood would be the same as the same as me really, wouldn't it? Charles: I mean to say, you would suggest going to Bowood, uh? Camilla: No, not at all. Charles: Which Charlie then? Camilla: What Charlie do you think I was talking about? Charles: I didn't know, because I thought you meant..... Camilla: I've got lots.... Charles: Somebody else. Camilla: I've got lots of friends called Charlie. Charles: The other one, Patty's. Camilla: Oh! Oh!, There! Oh that is further away. They're not.... Charles: They've gone..... Camilla: I don' know. it's just, you know, just a thought I had, If it fell through, the other place. Charles: Oh, Right. What do you do? Go on the M25 then down the M4 is it? Camilla: Yes, you go, um, and sort of Royston or M11, at that time of night. Charles: Yes, well, that'll be just after shooting anyway. Camilla: So it would be, um, you'd miss the worst of the traffic. Because I'll er.... You see the problem is I've got to be in London tomorrow night. Charles: Yes Camilla: Would you believe it? Because, I don't know what he's doing. He's shooting down here or something. but, darling, you wouldn't be able to ring me anyway, would you? Charles: I might just, I mean, tomorrow night I could have done. Camilla: Oh Darling, I can't bear it. How could you have done tomorrow night? Charles: Because I'll be (Yawns) working on the next speech. Camilla: Oh no, what's the next one? Charles: A Business in The Community one, rebuilding communities Camilla: Oh no, when's that for? Charles: A rather important one for Wednesday. Camilla: Well at least I'll be behind you. Charles: I know. Camilla: Can I have a copy of the one you've just done? Charles: Yes Camilla: Can I? um, I would like it. Charles: OK, I'll try and organize it. Camilla: Darling Charles: But I, oh God, when am I going to speak to you? Camilla: I can't bear it... Umm....... Charles: Wednesday night? Camilla: Oh, certainly Wednesday night. I'll be alone, um, Wednesday, you know, the evening. Or Tuesday. while you're rushing around doing things I'll be, you know, alone until it reappears. And early Wednesday morning, I mean, he'll be leaving at half past eight, quarter past eight. he won't be here Thursday, pray God. Um, that ambulance strike, it's a terrible thing to say this, I suppose it won't have come to an end by Thursday, Charles: It will have done? Camilla: Well, I mean I hope for everybody's sake it will have done, but I hope for our sakes it's still going on. Charles: Why? Camilla: Well, because if it stops he'll come down here on Thursday night. Charles: Oh no. Camilla: Yes, but I don't think it will stop, do you? Charles: No, neither do I. just our luck. Camilla: It just would be our luck, I know. Charles: Then it's bound to. Camilla: No it won't. You mustn't think like that. You must think positive. Charles: I'm not very good at that. Camilla: Well I'm going to. Because if I don't, I'd despair. (Pause) Hmmm - gone to sleep? Charles: No, How maddening. Camilla: I know, Anyway, I mean he's doing his best to change it, David . But I just thought, you know, I might ask Charlie. Charles: Did he say anything? Camilla: No, I hav'nt talked to him. Charles: You havn't? Camilla: Well I talked to him briefly, but you know, I just thought I - I just don't know whether he's got any children at home, that's the worry. Charles: Right. Camilla: Oh, Darling. I think I'll ............. Charles: Pray just Pray. Camilla: It would be so wonderful to have just one night to set us on our way, wouldn't it? Charles: Wouldn't it? To wish you a Happy Christmas. Camilla: (Indistinct) Happy. Oh, don't let's think about Christmas. I can't bear it. (Pause) Going to go to sleep ? I think you'd better, don't you darling? Charles: (Sleepy) Yes, Darling? Camilla: Will you ring me when you wake up? Charles: Yes I will. Camilla: Before I have these rampaging children around. It's Tom's birthday tomorrow. (Pause) You all right? Charles: Mmm. I'm all right. Camilla: Can I talk to you, I hope, before those rampaging children.... Charles: What time do they come in? Camilla: Well usually Tom never wakes up at all, but as it's his birthday tomorrow he might just stagger out of bed. It won't be before half past eight. (Pause) Night, night, my darling. Charles: Darling..... Camilla: I do love you. Charles: (Sleepily) Before... Camilla: Before half past eight. Charles: Try and ring? Camilla: Yeah, if you can. Love you darling. Charles: Night, Darling Camilla: I love you. Charles: I love you too. I don't want to say goodbye. Camilla: Well done for doing that. You're a clever old thing. An awfully good brain lurking there, isn't there? Oh, darling, I think you ought to give the brain a rest now. Night, Night. Charles: Night darling, God bless. Camilla: I do love you and I'm so proud of you. Charles: Oh, I'm so proud of you. Camilla: Don't be silly. I've never achieved anything. Charles: You're greatest achievement is to love me. Camilla: Oh, darling easier than falling off a chair. Charles: You suffer all these indignities and tortures and calumnies. Camilla: Oh, darling don't be so silly I'd suffer anything for you. That's love. It's the strength of love. Night, night. Charles: Night darling. Sounds if you're dragging an enormous piece of string behind you, with hundreds of tin pots and cans attached to it. Night night, before the battery goes. (Blows kiss) Night. Camilla: Love you. Charles: Don't want to say goodbye. Camilla: Neither do I, but you must get some sleep, Bye. Charles: Bye, darling. Camilla: Love you. Charles: Bye. Camilla: Hopefully talk to you in the morning. Charles: Please. Camilla: Bye, I do love you. Charles: Night. Camilla: Night. Charles: Night. Camilla: Love you forever Charles: night. Camilla: G'bye. bye my darling. Charles: Night. Camilla: Night, night. Charles: Night. Camilla: Bye bye. Charles: Going. Camilla: Gone. Charles: Going. Camilla: Gone Charles: Night. Camilla: Bye, Press the button. Charles: Going to press the tit. Camilla: All right darling, I wish you were pressing mine. Charles: God, I wish I was, Harder and harder. Camilla: Oh, darling. Charles: Night. Camilla: Night. Charles: Love you. Camilla: (Yawning) Love you. Press the tit. Charles: Adore you. Night. Camilla: Night. Charles: Night. Camilla: (Blows a kiss) Charles: Night. Camilla: G'night my darling, Love you. Charles then finally hangs up the phone.... SUBMITTED

#prince charles #camilla parker bowles #duchess of cornwall #quote #camillagate #submission

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