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#not only forced to live in an open air prison
evansbby · 6 months
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500,000 people in London today protesting to free Palestine. Half a million people all coming together to protest against the bombings of innocent civilians, the actual genocide of the Palestinians that is happening as we speak.
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ponderingmoonlight · 30 days
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Being held hostage by Ryomen Sukuna
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Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,4k
Synopsis: How you ended up in Sukuna's prison instead of getting killed in an instant? You don't know. What you do know however that the king of curse has more to offer than what you ever imagined...
Warnings: no real smut but it's getting heated y'all, Sukuna being a smooth operator, not 100% proofread
enjoy
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„Feeling lonely?“
You huff to yourself, wrists desperately fighting against the chains that keep you in place, tired eyes roaming around in order to find him.
Him, Ryomen Sukuna. The monster who kidnapped you and brought you here, chained you to the ceiling while kneeling on the cold ground. Fuck, how did you even allow him to catch you like this? Why didn’t you use your sphere, fight against him, give everything you have?
You furrow your eyebrows, glaring at his stupid grin with nothing but rejection. Because that man in front of you is more than a simple curse, let alone a human being. Not even you, a special grade jujutsu sorcerer, stood a chance against him. Not when you were too focused on saving your student’s lives to realize that you run straight into his open arms.
“I hate that look on your stupid pretty face. It almost looks like…disgust…”, he comments dryly.
With a swift motion, he yanks your chin upward, forces you to stare straight into his red eyes. You hate the way your nerves start tingling by just one look at him, the horror that radiates from those crimson orbs. If he wanted to, he could kill you without blinking, could end your life right here without hesitating. But instead, he decided to chain you into his living room in order to tease you.
“That’s exactly what it is”, you press out, failing miserably in an attempt to escape the sheer force of his fingertips.
“Feisty, I like it. We have a great time ahead of us, (y/n).”
The way he says your name runs shivers down your spine. Fuck, that unpromising look on his face makes you slowly but surely lose your composure. But why…Why are you even here? Why did none other than Ryomen Sukuna decide that you have to stay alive even though he would have been able to kill you without thinking twice? Why are you trapped here instead of six feet under?
“Why am I not dead yet?”
The words escape your mouth faster than you’re able to think. Slowly, he kneels down in front of you, nothing but amusement glimmering in his deadly orbs. Your heart almost beats out of your chest. Why does the air suddenly feel thicker, your lungs refusing their service while all you’re able to do is staring at him? Ryomen Sukuna is your worst enemy, killed countless people, brought nothing but grief your way. But…
You swallow hard. Did he really just get on his knees in front of you?
“I’ve been observing you for quite some time. Even though you’re nothing but a weak human, there’s something I haven’t seen before. Something I want to explore”, he replies with low voice.
Fuck, you hate the way your knees suddenly feel weak, how you squirm under his gaze. Are you out of your goddamn mind? This isn’t Nanami or Gojo. No, this is the king of curses himself. He’ll kill you without blinking when he has enough of you. God, what the hell is wrong with your taste in men anyway? You almost lost your composure when you met Choso back then at Shibuya…
When the man kneeling in front of you killed so many people that you lost count, almost ending your life as well when you were only inches away from getting caught in his sphere.
“No thanks. I have absolutely zero interest in getting explored by you”, you bite back.
Oh, what a filthy little lie. Just the thought of seeing him shirtless drives your imagination wild, sets something free you weren’t even aware of existing. Even though your eyes show nothing but dismissal, your body tells you otherwise.
“We’ll see about that.”
You almost choke on your own salvia when his hands grab your wrist out of the sudden, chest so close to you that you can almost taste the smell of musk and amber radiating from the sheer heat of his body that is only covered by his white robe. If you wanted to, you could rest your head against his broad chest, enjoy the sensation of his body against yours-
Before you’re able to react, your body collapses onto the cold ground, stained wrist set free by none other than Sukuna himself.
“Thanks, asshole”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
Your body feels like pudding, so weak that you can’t lift yourself off the floor as gracefully as you wanted to. How long have you been here already? Way too long as it seems. You glare at him through the messy strands of hair that stick to your face like glue. Just that satisfied grin on his face is enough to fuel your anger all over again.
“You really think you’re a tough one, huh? And that after I saw how you pressed your legs together when I came a little closer.”
“You’re a monster”, you argue.
He roams closer. Like a hunter he circles you, nothing but amusement and something way darker glistening in his eyes.
“You killed my comrades, my friends, innocent people-“
“So what?”, he casually replies.
His hands wrap themselves around your hair before you can stop him. You stare at him in sheer disbelief, head fighting against the sheer force of his fingers unsuccessfully. How on earth did you end up here?
“Your love and affection for others is your true weakness, (y/n). Without your puny thoughts over people who give a damn about you, you’d be unstoppable. Just like me.”
His breath caresses your cheeks, lights a fire that now radiates through your whole body.
“I will stop you”, you breathe out.
“Oh please.”
His hands…You can’t believe your eyes, your instincts, your body. Suddenly you find yourself trapped inside his muscular arms, his face so close to yours that you can feel his hot breath ghosting against your cheek and neck. When was the last time a man touched you? Oh, way too long ago. His toned body pressed against yours reminds you way too painful. But still.
You shake your head ever so slightly, close your eyes against the sensation his touch promises. This isn’t just a random man, not the kind of bad guy like Geto or Choso. No, this is the king of curses himself, a frightful creature absolutely willing to kill you when he had enough of you. You are nothing but a toy to him, something he found useful and will throw away the second you don’t match his expectations. This man is evil, this man is the epitome of cruelty. This man…
Pushes you against the wall, his leg forced between both of yours while all you can think of are his parted lips. This has to be a dream… Or a nightmare?
“Fuck.”
You don’t know, mind clouded by nothing but his sheer presence. What if you just kissed him? Only once to discover how he tastes, to convince yourself that you hate him. Yes, maybe this is all you need to get rid of that ridiculous desire that builds up in your stomach, maybe this will make the pressure between your hips vanish into thin air. A small innocent kiss and you’ll search a way out of this cursed place, an innocent kiss to come back to your senses.
Like in slow motion you stretch out your hand, so ready to touch his cheek. Does he even feel human? What else should he feel like? You just need to stretch your fingertips a little further, your head moving a few more inches towards his lips. His lips, those inviting parted lips…
“I knew you want me.”
But you don’t reach him. The second you open your eyes, you get greeted by that satisfied grin you learned to hate in the matter of hours, his hand keeping your fingers trapped mid-air.
“Don’t worry, I will come back to this eventually. But right now, I have something important to do.”
It happens faster that you’re able to react. Before you even comprehend what is happening, the chains around your wrists come back to life, trap you against the wall like a fool.
“Asshole”, you spit into his face, thick anger rushing through your already heated veins.
Out of instinct you stretch out your hand, ready to hit him with your best shot.
Only to get stopped by him catching your hand mid-air.
Again.
“I’ll see you later, (y/n). Don’t cause trouble as long as I’m gone.”
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brewed-pangolin · 5 months
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There's something so hypnotic about Soap's mouth...
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NSFW below the cut
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Soap’s mouth is like a force of nature.
He kisses you like you're air and he’s been suffocating for weeks. He’ll hold your face within his hands, keeping your head still as he tilts his just so. Sealing his lips over your mouth as he devours your luscious and life-giving essence.
And he savors the taste of your mouth like a fiend. Soap’s known to have a very enthusiastic tongue, and making out is no exception. And if you tease him by biting his bottom lip, he’ll lose it. He’ll either fuck you right then and there or, if you’ve been successfully riling him up, come right in his pants. So tread lightly.
He trails his mouth over you skin like a pilgrim traversing a fantastical landscape. Delving into every curve, tasting the subtle changes in your flavor, and putting to memory your reactions to the gentle caresses of his lips along your more sensitive areas.
Soap especially enjoys the way you whimper when he trails his mouth over your calf. Lightly dragging his teeth along the sensitive flesh, just below the bend of the knee as he teasingly pumps his cock at a glacial pace into your soaking core.
And he eats you out like a man on death row, and you are his last supper. He savors the taste of your heat, how it changes depending on your diet, and the subtle shifts in acidity in accordance with your changing hormones. He says he prefers you taste right before your cycle. Your flavor is sweeter, more robust. As if your body is preparing him for a feast that only he had been lucky enough to pick up on.
Before Soap, you were reluctant. Shy even, to let a man take advantage of you in such a vulnerable way. But now, you can’t see your life being anything less than pleasurably dull without him. 
But it isn’t always what Soap does with his mouth that has you caged like an animal inside his languid prison. It’s what comes out of it.
His voice.
That low, rumbling brogue that echoes from the speaker when he’s halfway across the globe and all he has is a cellphone and fifteen minutes at his disposal. His words generating the most pleasurable and obscene images in your mind, a talent only he can possess.
“Tha’s it, bonnie. Add ‘nother finger fo’me. Stretch tha’ sweet fuckin’ pussy like y’know I do.”
“Steaming hell. Can ‘ere how wet ya are, love. Keep goin.”
“Donnae hol’ back, lass. Got’a ‘ear ya moan fo’me.”
“I cannae…I canne cum…until ya moan…my name, bonnie.”
His deep Scottish accent rolling off his tongue and straight to your pulsing core. Pumping your fingers vigorously, doing your best to mirror his actions. Yet nothing can compare to the reality that is him.
And after his verbal torture he calms your trembling mind, still reeling from your orgasm with the affection of a gentle lover. Using that rumbling purr you’ve grown to adore in the afterglow of a powerful climax.
“Ya so good fo’me, bonnie. So fuckin’ good.”
“Bet ya made a mess, didn’ya? Mhmm. That’s how I want ya, lass. A mess an’ beggin’ for me.”
You didn’t know what your life was like before him, besides unfulfilled in pleasure. He opened you to a world you had only read about in romance novels and seen within the stories on television. You didn’t think it was real. Unachievable. Until the Scottish siren that is John ‘Soap’ MacTavish thrusted himself into your life. 
Now, you couldn’t imagine living a life without him.
Addicted to a man and his mouth. Naturally. Like the continuous flow of oxygen deep within your lungs.
Drabbles Masterlist
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@deadbranch @sofasoap @d3athtr4psworld @glitterypirateduck @punishmepunisher @homicidal-slvt @jynxmirage @kkaaaagt @mykneeshurt @shotmrmiller @astraluminaaa @obligatoryghoststare @writeforfandoms @haurasha @havoc973 @macravishedbymactavish @ang3lc @luismickydees
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strawberryforks · 3 months
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whatever the hell we want // bellamy blake x reader
summary: reader didn’t care much for living, the eldest blake sibling made it worthwhile, even enjoyable
warnings: angst, suicidal thoughts/ideation, swearing
word count: 1908
a/n: this one is a bit heavy. i was having a bad day so i will apologize for turning the cutesy “how did bellamy and reader meet” request into this emotional abomination (sorry)
you probably should have been excited to be on the ground. it was that or being floated–tossed into a lock sealed door, trapped, and taunted with the faces of whatever loved ones chose to say goodbye (you didn’t have to worry about that, the only family you had, you met in lock up–your bio dad, marcus kane, was awful and on days that ended in ‘y’, you opted to pretend he didn’t exist) before another door would open and you’d be sucked out into space. the little oxygen in your lungs would tear them apart. what had sustained you for so long would then be your downfall. what you needed to breath would kill you.
you’d be so hot, so hot as your blood boiled and so hot as you died, staring out at the stars you loved so much. you were nineteen, the oldest prisoner to be alive and on the arc, but even kane’s powers had their limits. in three days you would be floated. three days until that would be your fate and still.
still.
when you woke up on that dropship you were pissed. it was the first thing you were mad about.
with a forever fuck-it attitude, you unbuckled your seat. floating around with a few others you ignored your best friend when she told you “sit back down, dumbass!” you cracked a grin and then the lights flickered.
while entering the new atmosphere something went wrong—something malfunctioned. maybe the shutes didn’t deploy or maybe you were just lucky but when the screaming started, you didn’t hear it for more than a few seconds because you were flung into one of the metal walls, just above the seats, and your vision spotted before going disappearing completely. sounds dulled, everything dulled. you were probably dying, you smiled because of that
when you landed, you woke up. that was the second thing you were mad about.
you were suspended in the air in some kind of fabric. It wasn’t uncomfortable or anything, not until you attempted to stretch your stiff limbs and found the material twisting. it spat you out on the ground and you made a noise. it bubbled from the back of your throat, expressing your obvious upset, you lifted your hand to touch your cheekbone–it was throbbing and you had the vague memory of your face slamming into the dropship wall. at fucking nineteen, you weren’t supposed to have to deal with any of this. you should’ve been floated a long damn time ago, would’ve like to have been too. you were the oldest prisoner on the ark, only alive because of who your daddy was. the daughter of marcus kane (you hate him as much as the next person) you’d been spared. he tended to get what he wanted.
where you lie, a boy does across from you on another makeshift bed. you lean over him, study him. He has some features you recognize. freckles and long eyelashes. you’re peering over him, observing, when those eyelashes lift and he’s blinking up at you. you scoot backwards not wanting to bang heads (yours was quite tender).
the hand that you have been absentmindedly feeling around your face with, came away with no blood coating, “i’m ocatavia’s brother, bellamy.” bellamy blake, okay. you’d heard of him and despite never meeting him before, the stories octavia had told you, mostly about how he protected her and made life under the floor less horrendous, you decided he was safe.
you glance at him, not all that hesitant. your best friend was a force and if she left you alone, in here, with him, he was trustworthy. your lips are pressed into a tight line. you don’t need to introduce yourself, he already knows. of course he does. you assure yourself he knows because you’re his little sister’s best friend and not because you’re kane’s daughter, the one who killed a man and got away scot free. you had a damn good reason but the ark’s justice system was lacking.
you tell yourself he isn’t judging you, he doesn’t look like he is, but you know you deserve to be judged so it’s a losing battle.
you glance down at your wrist and see it’s bare. the band that transmits your vitals to the ark is missing, and when you look at his wrist, you realise he isn’t wearing one either. “lost in the rough landing?” you ask, with a lilt to your voice.
his shoulders shake as he laughs a little. “something like that.”
you sit back up and climb back into your hammock. this time your hands are both out beside you to stabilise yourself. it’s quiet for a moment, the tent dark enough you know it’s night time. “why’d you take it?” you asked, unable to stop your curiosity.
“the ark hasn’t done anything for us. they sent us down here to die, because we’re expendable. in their eyes we’re just repaying them.”
oh. so your dad probably thinks you’re dead right now. that doesn’t unsettle you as much as it would the average person–actually you don’t mind it at all. let him learn what it means to fail, to lose, in some permanent way. let him face the brunt of the consequences his actions wrought for once. maybe this sentence would be the one to ruin him.
you stare at the pitch of the tent. are we on earth right now? is it safe? did the others survive? what happens now? your mind is flooded with questions.
“you think loudly.” bellamy informs.
“i’ve been out for awhile, huh?” in response, he nodded. “is it okay? is everyone okay?”
“they are. you almost weren’t though. that stunt you pulled? it was a whole different level of dumb.”
it’s peaceful until sunrise when the screaming starts. Guttural moans and groans echo from within the camp. “That’s jasper,” bellamy supplies while you’re rubbing your head, all but pleading with the ache to subside.
then octavia’s bursting through the tent flaps, “i knew i heard voices!” she pulls you outside with her and just… woah. everything is brighter. unlike the monotones on the ark there’s all kinds of colours. blue sky, green tress. they’re so green and so many different shades. light, dark, sage, evergreen. you’ve never seen anything so beautiful, other than your stars. you miss them, and looking up at the sky you can’t see them only clouds–white floating cotton that moves with the wind. you’re on earth and you don’t know if you belong here but in all fairness you didn’t belong on that spaceship either. the only place you thought might be a good fit for you was now miles upon miles away. a good thing, if you asked octavia.
the “whatever the hell we want” movement was one you supported quickly and joined even quicker. bellamy and his buddies at its forefront you figured, why not. you liked to fight, so thats what you did. you threw punches and received them and slaps to the face. It satiated you need to self destruct and would until bellamy or octavia intervened. you didn’t quite care for danger and took as many guard and patrol shifts as you could. you liked carrying a weapon, liked exploring, and hated being cooped up and confined.
you were walking away from the wall, alone this time, with no particular destination in mind. sometimes you brought octavia with you but she was busy talking and flirting (not in that particular order) her brother never liked when she joined in on your adventures so it was probably better that she wasn’t with you.
“not dragging my sister along with you this time?” a familiar voice chided. bellamy blake. speak of the devil and he shall appear.
you shrug your shoulders and continue walking. “not this time, no.”
“hey! come back. where the hell do you think you’re going.”
“i haven’t decided yet. maybe the river. maybe the caves. maybe, it’s none of your business,” you respond dryly, still walking ahead. his hand clamps down on your arm and he stops you from moving further, “what, bellamy? what?” his eyes, alight with fire, something you’ve seen in your best friend once or twice, full of curiosity, and understanding, meet your own. he gazes into your dead ones, takes a look at your blank expression and bends down. a hand grips the backs of your thighs and then he’s picking you up. you’re slung over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and had you not been so emotionally empty you would've been incredibly impressed. “what the hell bellamy? what are you doing?”
“whatever the hell i want, though, that? it doesn’t apply to you anymore, not when you don’t know what you want,”
“i do,” you argue.
“not when what you want isn’t anything good.” he fires back.
and that’s how you met bellamy blake. at first you hated him, hated how he drug you along wherever he went–patrol was nice but he would insist on bringing you everywhere, even on the most pointless errands. to do the most boring things. he made you drag logs to help reinforce the wall and sometimes he didn’t even help. prison warden or friend, who fucking knew?
but bellamy kept you busy. kept you distracted from the brewing storm in your head.
you got used to him. bellamy blake became your new normal and even made you smile a few times, usually when firelight was reflecting off of both of your cheeks as you roasted your dinner. the first time, you sat on a log beside him, your supper sitting inside of the flames, blackening. he went to grab the stick from you–probably guessing you were attempting to light yourself on fire, or that you’d begun to dissociate. you snatch the stick back. “it’s burning,” he warns, voice having a sharp edge.
“sorry if i would rather taste charcoal than two headed, six tailed, mutated squirrel.”
that night he held you. you let him.
close to his chest and away from any and all danger, you slept soundly and dreamlessly for the first time in years. the sleep–it helped with your mood, too.
bellamy held you again. he always liked to hold you—to have a hand in yours or resting on your shoulder. this time, the touch wasn’t comforting, to assure himself that you were real and not going anywhere. this time that physical touch was the only reason you weren’t going anywhere. his grip was tighter, thank god.
the grounders were coming an the only way to stop them or at least to slow them down was to blow up the bridge. you needed to place the bomb but everyone was terrified to let you go, bellamy especially. you did what you had to, sneaking away and setting it. you were scared–you didn’t know when it happened, when you started wanting to live, but it was a soul-deep change that you knew had something to do with the blake siblings. specifically bellamy, who’s companionship you hadn’t wanted but needed more than anything.
you placed the bomb on the bridge and detonated it, running as fast as you could as the moss covered stone crumbled behind you. the structural integrity was giving away and you were so close tot he edge but… you started to fall. you closed your eyes, pressed them shut as tightly as you could and then that hand was there.
bellamy’s. closed around your wrist and holding on for all he was worth. your heart beat so hard in your chest you had to look down to make sure you hadn’t been speared by a grounder, and that it wasn’t leaking out.
you loved him and you were so thankful he never listened to you. when you said you didn’t need him, when earlier, you shouted at him and told him not to follow you–it was a weak distraction but now, he pulled you back onto solid ground and wrapped you in his arms and you had no regrets. none at all. well… you had one, but it was easily rectified.
it was a struggle, pushing him away at the shoulders, holding him at arms length and seeing the worry on his face all over again. it was a struggle but when you stopped regretting things and dove back in, moulding your lips together in a passionate kiss, everything was better. bell’s hand palmed your cheek and pulled you impossibly closer as yours moved through his hair.
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astraystayyh · 7 months
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I've been debating how to breach this topic for the past days, but there is no easy or practical way to bring it up. There is an ongoing genocide in Gaza- the world's largest open air prison, as described by U.N. officials and activists. Nearly 2500 Palestinians have been killed in the course of past few days, including women and nearly 700 children. 700. Israel urged Palestinians to leave the Gaza stripe (even though they have nowhere to go to) only to bomb their "safe" exit routes. Entire civilian neighborhoods and hospitals are being targeted by Israel, and they are threatening to cut off the water and electricity in Gaza as well, turning the few running hospitals left to cemeteries.
Palestinians children are writing their names on their palms so people would recognize them, in case they end up being killed by Israel forces. Palestinians are writing their goodbye messages on social media because they aren't sure they'd still be alive tomorrow. There is so much atrocity going on, so many war crimes that the west have deemed reasonable because those are Palestinian lives that are taken, because Palestinians lives aren't as important as western ones, because international law doesn't apply when it comes to Palestinians.
it is unsettling and uncomfortable to watch these images of war, of beheaded children being carried by fellow civilians, of ambulance drivers falling to the ground from the horror of that they've witnessed, of cries of babies who are suddenly orphans, who have never known anything but violence and murder. But this is the reality of Palestinians, as it has been for the past decades. Please, I urge you, educate yourself on the ongoing conflict. There is no hard choice, there are no nuances that you need to take into consideration, there are no 'buts'. There is a colonization, an ethnical cleansing, a genocide, and Palestinians aren't the instigators of it. They are the ones paying the price.
Standing up for Palestine doesn't mean you are anti-jew, the proof is there are a lot of Jewish people standing with the Palestine cause, because they recognize the atrocities committed by the Israeli government. There were no "40 beheaded babies" by Hamas, this was a false information, consciously perpetuated by Israel then the USA so they'd be able to attack Palestine with a "reasonable" motive, only backtracking on it when the damage was already done. There aren't two sides. There is only one true side and it's Palestine.
+ u just have to click this link and the revenue generated by traction in this website will be donated to Palestine! it's only one click per day please do it
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imtheasssniffer · 4 months
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It’s safe to say that life had gotten really complicated for you. After you mysteriously shrunk down to less than three inches, you were forced to leave college for safety reasons, and live back at home with your parents. Not knowing what to do with you, and afraid that she might lose you your mom put you in the laundry machine. It kept you safe from getting crushed or lost, and allowed you to have the privacy you wanted. This meant though, that she wasn’t able to do laundry while you lived in there. You were minding your business watching a movie on your giant phone, cause it was all you could really do, when you saw a shadow loom outside the machine, you knew your mom wasn’t home, and were surprised to see your dad, because he never came into the laundry room. You paused the movie, and watched as he angrily paced in front of the machine angrily throwing around the piles of dirty clothes outside of the machine. Finally he acknowledged you, glaring through the glass at your tiny body. He opened the door, and without a word filled the opening with his ass. You were so stunned you couldn’t say anything. You just watched in horror, as a massive fart echoed into the cylindrical space. The sound bouncing off of the metal walls. The smell began to descend on you, and you coughed choking on the rancid scent. You then watched in horror as your father slammed the door, locking you in a stinky gassy prison. There was nothing to absorb the smell except for you. You banged on the walls and he laughed.
“How does it feel,” he teased poking at the glass.
“Your mother hasn’t been able to wash clothes in forever. I’m tired of it.” You continued to choke on the rancid stink he left behind.
“Now you have to live with the stink you created.” He smiled an evil smile, and chuckled a little getting a sick sense of joy from your suffering. He turned around, and picked up some clothes from the ground. He opened the door, and you inhaled, relieved to get fresh air, and then a heavy black cloth landed on top of you. Smelling of intense musk and ball funk. You came out from underneath to watch in horror as your father began to throw every pair of dirty underwear into the machine. By the end of it nearly twenty pairs of underwear lined the bottom of the metal container. You started to beg, but he just roughly threw a pair at you. You couldn’t escape. You both knew that. The drop was too far for you to land safely, so you just had to endure the stench that was quickly starting fill the space. You knew now, way too intimately what your dads dick smelled like, and the stench made you sick. Just as you thought it was over you again watched in terror as he began to act more mad than before. Now taking off his pants, and stripping down to boxer briefs. They were nasty. There were apparent stains all around the pouch. He grabbed his crotch and shook it angrily, saying,
“You see this mess, I haven’t changed my underwear in over a week and a half! Because of you!” He then began to shimmy out of them. You watched as his saggy balls shook as he hopped out of his briefs. His uncut dick swinging just above you. Allowing you to see the back of his underwear which was worse than the front, a long brown streak stained the crack of his underwear. He threw the nasty pair in the machine. The stained, wet pouch landing on your body. You picked it off of you. Gagging at the rancid and strong stench of piss and balls. He slammed the machine and left. Leaving you to bask in the filthy aroma of all his dirty underwear. You wanted to cry. The stink was so intense you got a migraine, and for once the space felt claustrophobic. A few minutes passed by of what felt like hell. The underwear that flooded the machine not only radiated a stink but a heat, and it felt like you were in an inferno. You began to sweat, adding your own musk into the mix, although it was minuscule compared to the overwhelming scent of your fathers undergarments.
Suddenly he returned, still wearing no pants. His dick flopping around with each step. He abruptly opened the door, and hope filled your body, you ran up to the entrance expecting him to let you out, but you were swiftly disappointed, as his ass entered the machine again, only this time, completely nude, and significantly closer to you.
BBbRrRrAaSSSPpTtT
Another huge 5 second fart rang out. This one sputtering and wet. The smell was toxic, and made you feel sick. You dry heaved as he slammed the door. You beat on the glass hopelessly. Again suffocating in your father’s malicious gas. He laughed at your weak attempt and placed his ass against the glass door. Spreading his cheeks, so you could see his hole as it sputtered another fart. Echoing across the glass. He laughed. Clearly enjoying teasing and torturing you. You fell down, defeated. He had successfully broken you. And just when you thought he was done. The door opened again. This time he grabbed his rancid, ripe, fresh pair of underwear and put them back on. You thought this meant the end of his torture, until he picked you up. He lifted you up to his face and smiled,
“I can’t tell if I want your face in my shit, or if you want your face in my hole so I can spray you with shit.” You got the chills. Pure terror and disgust filled your body, and you began to panic flailing in his fingers. “I guess we’ll see how lucky I get,” he said bringing you around to his ass, and dropping you in the back of his underwear, you screamed terrified of what awaited below. You fell facing his ass. Feeling his hair tickle your face, and the crust of his skid mark behind you. He adjust his underwear until you were face to face with his hole. Aligned perfectly with the puckering ring of muscle. It almost engulfed your face as he flexed it, squeezing and releasing his hole, so it rubbed all over you. You felt him grab and readjust his crotch, as he played with his hole, and then he started walking. Each step you were strewn about his hole. Getting dragged along the surface of his ring, left, right, left right. The stink was sinking into your skin, and as if it couldn’t get worse you felt his hole loosen, and heard as gas made it’s way from deep within him to your face. You gagged as a silent hissing fart burned your nostrils. Smelling like burned rubber, meat and general ass the smell was overwhelming. Your eyes began to water, and you thrashed feeling violent from the intense aroma that was produced. You heard your dad chuckle above, and then a loud, yet quick toot shot out. You could tell he forced it out too, by how hard he clenched. Pretty soon he wasn’t forcing them out, as his hole loosened. He joked about having to take a shit, and after spending the rest of the night in his underwear you realized how he got such bad skid marks.
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sunshine-on-my-mind · 5 months
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Soldat’s fairy
~ Chapter 2
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pairing: winter soldier x reader / bucky barnes x reader
general warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! Dark Elements!! HYDRA!! (Dub Con implied but not really and NOT FROM BUCKY), Winter Solider, Mind Control, se-xual in-tercourse. forced relationship forced procreation (HYDRA!!), ANGST - (this is my first time writing something like this so please let me know if I should more warnings)
chapter warnings: mentions of crying, mentions of blood, gun shot, bullet injury, suggestive, nothing graphic but hinting at smut, mentions of virginity (+ general warnings)
words: 1.2k
a/n: hi everyone, i really hope you liked the first chapter, things accelerate in this chapter, thank you for your support, hope you like it. please please read the warnings before continuing.
<- Previous Chapter
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DO NOT COPY MY WORK!!
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Your room, no matter how nicely decorated, it was a prison, you were being held against your wishes and you were all alone.
Since Soldat left your room, you had no idea about time passing, there were no windows in the room you were kept in, no clocks, only food and water was given to you. You screamed, cried, but no use.
You were on lying on your bed, tired and scared. The door opened and your alarmed body grabbed the nearest thing you could to throw at whoever entered.
A pillow won’t be much of use against the winter soldier. The man was standing in front of you but no words were spoken, the door was closed behind.
All of sudden, you looked at him, really looked at him, that was when you noticed the bruises and cuts and marks on his body, his metal arm, his hair, his face. Some of the bruises were we very fresh, as if…
“What happened? Are you hurt?” You asked the man, with a shaky voice. But you didn’t get a response.
“Those bruises…” You bravely took a step towards Soldat. The seemed like a living paradox to you, his hard exterior but his eyes… his eyes were dying to tell a different story. You took another step closer and the man finally broke his silence.
“Don’t” He looked down at the floor and clenched his fists. Was he angry? “Don’t come near”
“You’re hurt-“
“STOP!”
You took a step back when he yelled. Soldat was fuming, his metal hand clenched so hard it screeched. The air got thicker in the room.
“I have orders to…”
“Yeah- yeah I know” you answered feeling your heart beating faster.
“I cannot refuse orders”
“Please…” Soldat looked into your eyes to notice the pain, fear and helplessness. He wasn’t supposed to feel emotions, but your eyes… it reminded him of- of himself. Or maybe some version of himself, not that he remembered.
The man wanted to fight, not you, not anyone else but himself, wanted to fight his instincts, fight his sudden want to protect you.
“Do they hurt you? Those men? My father?” He didn’t respond but his silence spoke louder.
“I didn’t follow orders.” He informed.
“So they- so they hurt you?”
“I always follow orders, I have to”
“They why didn’t you? Last time when you were here… why didn’t you follow your orders?” The question seemed to have stir something in the man. He didn’t know how to respond. That was the question he had asked himself when he left your room, when your father’s men tortured him, he kept asking himself that same question. Why didn’t he follow orders.
“I…”
“Why don’t you run away? Do you support my father? Do you want to help him?” The man gave you no reply and you continued “They are holding you here aren’t they? Run away.”
“I can’t, I can’t escape, I- I had tried”, the man told you
“Maybe I can help you, maybe we can help each other?” At that he moved closer to you. Why were you being kind to him? No one was kind to him. Soldat grabbed your arm, pulled you closer. He stared into your eyes as if trying to get a look into your soul, those usually rageful eyes had something else in them.
“Why? Why will you help me?” You didn’t know how to answer him
“These people… they hurt you, they- you should not help them” He sighed
“I have to comply”
There was a knock on your door as you gasped. Another knock and then the doors opened to an emerging figure of your father, followed by few of his men.
“Daughter, I see you’re being stubborn, do you not understand your purpose yet? You have to bear the soldier’s child”
“I won’t, you can’t do this to me”
Pierce nodded to one of his men who took out a gun and you felt your heart stop. Would your father order to kill you? Well after everything you had no trust left in your body, at least not for Pierce. Then something strange happened, the man pointed his gun to the winter soldier who tried to attack the man but Alexander Pierce stopped him.
“Do not move Soldat” Pierce ordered. He motioned at his men to hold Soldat down. The winter soldier could easily overpower them if he wanted to but he was bound by Pierce’s orders.
“Now daughter, do you want me to blow this man’s brains out?” Everything was happening too fast, it was all too much you could hardly process anything, all you knew you didn’t want this man to be harmed. You took a deep breath.
“You wouldn’t kill him father, he is too precious for you, you told me yourself he is the key to your victory” Pierce laughed at that.
“Looks like you’re smarter than I thought, still not smart enough” Your father gave his men a signal to shoot and in an instant he shot Soldat’s leg. You screamed. There was blood, actual blood in front of you.
“I won’t kill him, but I sure can break him, do you want that?” Soldat wasn’t looking at you, he was staring at the floor. He was used to torture, it hurt but he was used to it.
“Don’t, don’t hurt him” your voice was shaking. “Please father- I- I’ll do it”
“That’s better” Pierce had a satisfied grin on his face. “Right then, hope you do what’s needed daughter, we’ll take Soldat to the med bay and then when he comes back, you better keep your word, or I have other methods, because this time the blood won’t be his”
At that Soldat looked up at you, he could understand the meaning behind Pierce’s words and he didn’t like it one bit, Soldat himself was used to torture but you… you seemed soft, untouched, he didn’t want you to get hurt.
The men took him away for now and one of them did a lousy job of cleaning the blood from your floor. Soon you were left alone in the room and you broke down into tears. You were terrified and disgusted.
After a while when soldier returned, he found you sitting on the edge of your bed looking defeated. You didn’t look at him, and he kept standing beside you.
“I guess, you were right, we can’t run from this” You looked up at him finally and then to his wounded leg. “Does it hurt?”
“It will heal soon” He replied with a gravelly voice. You nodded and gripped your bed sheet tightly, thinking what was about to happen.
“I… I don’t want to hurt you” Soldat confessed. “But…”
“But there is no way out.” You gave him a sad smile, tears welled up in your eyes.
“I have… I have not done this before, I mean, I- I haven’t been with someone” you told the man as you got up from your bed and stood in front of him. “Please um- please be gentle” your lips wobbled as you uttered those words. Soldat moved closer to you and held your face with his flesh hand.
“I don’t want to hurt you” He repeated his words “…and that is why I have to do this- or they will hurt you.“ You looked into his eyes, there was softness in them “I won’t hurt you” He promised.
Even though you felt you were being surrounded by darkness, the man in front of you gave you hope. You didn’t understand why but you didn’t feel like you were alone anymore, and neither did he.
———————
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taglist: @vicmc624 @floralwsloki @cjand10 @420-hun
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chapter xxii – gust & flame
Eris Vanserra x Reader
Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.
Word Count: 5,000+
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Y/N spent the next three weeks hiding in her workroom, making various potions and charms and candles – and anything else that would help the human women and children who now had sanctuary in the Forest House. Many of them could not sleep due to nightmares or anxiety, feeling like they were still in danger. Others had other mental hurdles that prevented them from even finding the will to live.
So, Y/N had been working day and night, casting remedies for it all with her witchcraft. 
She had barely been sleeping. Even worse, she was barely eating. 
Servants would politely knock on her door and silently bring her giant plates of food for every meal – and even small plates of snacks. But as soon as they left, Y/N would forget the food was ever brought in the first place. She would just get sucked right back into working. 
But the humans weren’t the only thing haunting her. 
Y/N hadn’t seen Eris since her confession in the woods. 
Surprisingly, it was because he had respected her request to give them space. 
But she heard the people of the Forest House, and they gossiped in whispers.
Eris had apparently been working himself to exhaustion, visiting various villages across Autumn Court, speaking with the common folk, and delegating tasks to his advisors. 
The wind constantly urged Y/N to go to him. But she managed to ignore their constant torment. 
Y/N now worked on making a tea for the young humans who were anxious as ever, despite now being safe in Autumn Court. She understood that the fae realm was strange and scary – especially after their first exposure to the realm was nothing but torture. 
Suddenly, the door to her workshop was thrown open. 
The five bloodhounds napping near it jumped to attention and growled menacingly. 
Lucien came strutting in, clearly on some sort of mission. 
The dogs snarled at his interruption and lunged for him.
And if it weren’t for the invisible shield Lucien had clearly conjured with a lazy flick of his wrist, his ankles surely would’ve been torn apart by their jaws. 
Y/N quickly looked back down at her work, not even acknowledging his entrance.
“I’m busy,” she muttered with obvious annoyance. 
“Well, now…” Lucien announced as he got into her space, forcing her to address his presence. “You are taking a break.” 
He stood against her worktable, blocking Y/N from continuing her brewing. 
“Lucien, I do not have the mental energy to deal with your antics today. I have work to do.”
“And it will be here when we return. But for now, you are going on a walk in the woods with me.” 
Y/N crossed her arms. “Can’t you find some pretty courtier to entertain you?”
Lucien smirked. “But spending time with a woman who finds me irritating is so much more exciting.” Then his face turned serious as he studied her face, noting the shadows under her bloodshot eyes. “Come, Y/N. You haven’t left this room in weeks. The servants say you ignore every meal they bring you. And Eris…”
He stopped when he noticed her reaction from someone merely mentioning his brothers name.
“Well, we don’t need to talk about him right now,” he finally finished. 
Y/N sighed, and then glanced outside.
When was the last time she’d left the walls of the Forest House? Perhaps some fresh air would do her good. And then she could get back to her work. 
“Fine,” she snapped. “But the hounds are coming with and I don’t care if they bite you.”
All she could hear was Lucien chuckling behind her as she walked out of the workroom. 
———
Lucien had insisted on Y/N wearing a cloak, but couldn’t convince her to put on boots – or any shoes for that matter. 
“What’s the point of a walk if you can’t feel the ground beneath your feet?” Y/N scoffed at him. 
“If you get frostbite and lose a toe, Eris will kill me…” Lucien muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear him. 
To Y/N’s surprise, Lucien allowed a peaceful silence to settle between the two of them as they walked through the forest surrounding the property. 
No guards insisted on joining them, so they must be safe enough to be unchaperoned.
However, they still had five smoke hounds surrounding them. They now sniffed the ground with precision, never straying too far from Y/N. Every so often, they would trot up to her, asking for pets or licking her hand.
“You know, they eventually will learn how to live again and without fear.” Lucien told her gently after some time. 
Y/N just sighed. 
“Humans are stronger than most fae give them credit for. They’re resilient and overcome such terrible things. They have to. Their lives are fleeting, to do otherwise would be a waste of a short and fragile life.” 
Y/N glared at him. “Our lives,” she corrected. “Our lives are fleeting.” 
Lucien watched her carefully. 
“I see Eris told you of our last conversation…” she mumbled with irritation. 
“Well, I had to force it out of him after he started snapping at everyone who dared look at him for longer than a second.” He looked Y/N up and down. “Believe it or not, he looks worse than you do.” 
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh, you are always so kind, Lucien.”
“When did you start to think so little of yourself?” He countered. 
“E-Excuse me?” 
“Do you really think Eris cares about you being a mortal or without noble blood? I thought you of all people could see through his mask and see him for who is truly is. And does that really seem like a concern that would prevent him from loving you?” 
“Do you hear how advisors and envoys from other Courts speak of Feyre? To them she is an ignorant child. Hardly unhuman. She still is learning so much about the ways of the fae.” 
Lucien scoffed. “Only a fool would underestimate Feyre. She is the only reason we were freed from our curse. And she may also be the only reason we won the war against Hybern.”
Y/N stopped walking. “Why is Feyre a High Lady? She is the only female with such a title. Your mother is only the Lady of Autumn.” 
“Because Rhysand wanted an equal. He values his mate's opinion and ethics – as he should. He is progressive in a way most fae will fail to ever understand. Could you imagine Beron Vanserra seeing my mother as anything more than his breeder?” 
Y/N said nothing, but openly cringed at the word 'breeder.'
“And dare I say…if you truly believed yourself so undeserving of a similar title, then why do you hide away in the libraries of the Forest House, learning everything you can of Autumn Court and the politics of the fae realm?” 
Y/N glared at him. “I do not wish to be ignorant.”
Lucien smirked knowingly. “Aye. That is precisely my point.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Why are you so invested in our relationship, Lucien? Recently, you have inserted yourself in a way that you have usually avoided in the past.” 
Any mischievous expression that was left on his face had disappeared. He frowned and his eyes held sympathy. 
“I believe my time here in the Autumn Court is coming to a close.” 
Y/N’s eyes widened. “W-W-What? Why?” 
“Yes, my banishment has been lifted. But this place holds far too many bad memories. My nightmares are filled with them. I don’t think I was ever meant to return. I feel as if I was never meant to be in this Court at all...” 
“B-But where will you go? Back to Night Court?”
“Most likely. Being away from my mate – despite her ignoring my existence – starts to take a toll on me.”
“You ache for her?” Y/N asked him gently. 
Lucien blushed and hesitated before he finally nodded. 
“Well, who will I make fun of and torment?” Y/N teased. 
But before she could answer, a noise caught her attention. 
Y/N held up her hand, signaling for Lucien to also listen. Which was silly, his fae hearing had picked it up long before she had. 
“It is just a fox cry,” Lucien pointed out. 
Then a small wind passed through and he knew she wasn’t listening to him. 
“Not just a fox cry,” Y/N answered and started to follow the sound. 
Then she suddenly remembered the smoke hounds that were surrounding them. 
Y/N whistled to get their attention. And they whipped around to face her, waiting for her next command. 
“Stay with Lucien,” she ordered them gently. “And don’t bite him.”
They all started whining, not liking her to go anywhere without them being able to follow. 
Y/N rushed forward following invisible directions. 
She didn’t stop until she found the source of the noise. And just around a cluster of trees, she found it.
A red fox kit, shivering underneath the trunk of a giant oak tree. 
Y/N rushed forward, but then slowed when she just a few feet away. 
The kit eyed her, still shaking from the cold and probably fear. 
“Y/N, don’t touch it.” Lucien called out, having followed her a few steps behind, with the smoke hounds at his heels. 
Y/N ignored him and kneeled in front of the kit. “Hello there. No need to be afraid. I won't hurt you.” 
“Its mother will come back for it,” Lucien tried to tell her. 
Then a gust of wind passed through, shaking the dry leaves like a chorus. 
“No, it’s all alone,” Y/N called over her shoulder to him. Clearly, the wind had told her. “His mother was killed by hunters. He’s been here for days, waiting for her.” 
She turned back to the kit. “Come on, little one. I will look after you. I know those dogs over there seem big and scary, but I won’t let them harm you.” 
The kit let out a little whimper. 
“I know you want your mama. But she isn’t coming back. I’m so sorry. But I will keep you safe.” 
Then the kit shakily walked toward Y/N. 
As he did, she took off her cloak, preparing to wrap up the shivering fox in it. 
“What shall we name you?” Y/N asked the kit gently, as she stood with it wrapped cozily in her arms.
The wind brushed through her hair, and Y/N giggled at what they said. “The wind thinks we should call you Ronan. How does that sound?”
The kit squeaked out a happy noise. 
“Ronan it is then,” Y/N answered back with a smile. 
But when she turned to walk back to the others, Lucien was staring at her strangely. 
“What? What is it?” 
Lucien blinked, snapping himself out of it. “Nothing. It is only…there was once a tradition in Autumn Court. High Lords would gift their Lady of Autumn a fox kit to raise. Obviously the tradition hasn’t been practiced since before Beron’s time.” 
“O-Ohh,” Y/N managed to stutter out. 
What was he trying to say?
“Foxes are sacred animals in this Court,” Lucien continued. “Though they are tricky to tame, once you do, they are fiercely loyal creatures.”
“So why are you looking at me like that?” She asked. 
“The Cauldron works in mysterious ways,” was all he would give her. “Come. Let us get our new friend home.” 
Ronan almost instantly fell asleep as Y/N carried him to the Forest House. The kit already trusted her to keep him safe. 
Y/N started muttering to him as they entered the gates. “We will get you the softest bed. And I will feed you fresh fruit and I’ll sneak the best cuts of meats for you. You will be spoiled rotten, Ronan.”
“Motherly instinct has already kicked in, has it?” Lucien teased. 
But he didn’t expect for her entire body to stiffen. 
“I have no desire to be a mother,” she answered darkly before she could stop herself. 
That was when Lucien put together a whole different argument for Y/N forcing distance between her and Eris. 
His posture straightened and his mouth opened slightly. Without thinking, he blurted out. “You are worried about an heir.”
It didn’t come out as a question; it was a statement. 
Lucien now looked at her as if he could read her very mind, like a daemati. He could see every one of her fears on display. And she just stood their, as vulnerable as ever. 
Before Y/N could defend herself or come up with some blatant lie, the guards around them stood at attention and turned to face the direction of the Forest House’s main entrace. And they bowed slightly. 
Eris stood at the open door, watching the two of them. 
It was the first time he and Y/N had seen each other since the lake. 
And the two of them couldn’t take their eyes off one another. Their gazes locked. 
“Leave us,” Eris gently commanded without looking away. 
All Y/N could do was hear the shuffling of armor as Lucien and his guards quickly made their escape from the front courtyard, leaving her with the male she had been trying to avoid for the past few weeks. 
“And who is this?” Eris finally broke the silence, pointing to the fox.
Y/N clutched the kit tighter. “This is Ronan.” 
Eris didn’t question her further. Instead he blindsided her with a subject change. “You haven’t been eating.”
She blinked in confusion, then recovered by glaring at him. 
“I have respected your wishes to keep my distance these past few weeks,” Eris continued. “But when my guards and servants say you have not been eating nor sleeping, I will ignore such a request.”
“I am fine,” Y/N defied him. 
Eris lifted a brow, challenging her. 
But she was too tired to pick a fight. 
“Come,” Eris gestured behind him toward the Forest House. 
And she begrudgingly followed. 
The two of them didn’t speak as they walked down the winding halls. 
Eris didn’t stop until they were in the grand banquet hall. 
There was a feast already prepared on the table. It could’ve fed a royal party. But there were only two dining chairs set at the long table. 
“This is far too much food,” Y/N muttered. 
“Yes, so you will not have the excuse of disliking the options,” he countered. 
And before she could say anything else, he added, “None of it will go to waste. Whatever you don’t eat will be shared with others.” 
For good measure, he sent her warning look and pointed at a chair. “Sit, Y/N. And eat.” 
Y/N knew there was no use arguing about this. And the smell of the food alone made her realize how hungry she was. Her stomach ached from the emptiness. 
She slowly sat with Ronan in her lap, who was fast asleep. 
“And are you here to simply watch me?” Y/N asked Eris. 
“No, I’m joining you.” He answered as he pulled out the other chair. 
Y/N listened to her stomach and grabbed a few things that seemed appetizing, but also would give her fuel to continue working rigorously. 
As if Eris knew she was already thinking about getting back to work, he commented. “The humans are in good health. I have my finest soldiers guarding them at all times. I even sent some of the hounds there to play with the children.” 
“I know,” Y/N mumbled. Her eyes flickered up to his. “I know you will not let any harm come to them while they are here.” 
He blinked. “Then why will you not rest?” 
“If I can keep helping them, then I must.” 
Eris sighed. “I am not telling you to stop. I am asking that you find balance. You will be helping no one if you are not taking care of yourself. Eating consistent meals and getting a full night’s rest is part of that.” 
“I know,” Y/N repeated quietly. 
Eris seemed taken aback by her submission. He was fully prepared for her to spend the whole meal arguing with him. But it only proved how exhausted she must be. 
Without allowing himself to think of stopping, Eris’ hand reached toward Y/N’s face and cupped her cheek so gently. 
“Please, talk to me.” 
His words were pleading. His eyes desperate. 
Her eyes teared up, but she blinked to control her emotions. “I-I-I’m just tired.”
“Yes, I know.” Eris agreed, but his look indicated that it was obvious there was something more than her general exhaustion. 
“I do not like being away from you,” Y/N finally admitted quietly. “But I know it is what we must do.” 
If she was less tired, she would never have allowed herself to speak such words. 
Eris sighed and finally leaned back in his chair, dropping his hand from her cheek. “What I must do to convince you that it isn’t?” 
But Y/N just shook her head, quietly begging him not to have this conversation right now. 
As if sensing her turmoil, Ronan woke up startled. Then he took in Eris and growled as menacingly as a little, helpless kit could. 
Y/N giggled as the ridiculousness of it brought her out of her gutter of emotions and cut the tension that had been building. 
“Hush. None of that,” Y/N laughed before kissing the top of Ronan’s head. 
Eris gave her a look, silently asking, ‘Are you going to explain this to me now?’
“I found him in the woods,” her voice sad as she explained. “His mother was killed by hunters. I’m going to look after him now.” 
“You have a kind heart, Y/N.” Eris explain softly. “Any in need within your reach, you help. But when will you allow others to do the same for you?” 
She couldn’t answer such a question. Instead, she stroked Ronan’s head and went back to eating. 
The two ate in silence for the rest of the meal. 
Eris didn’t stop eating until Y/N did, not wanting to give her a reason for finishing before she was actually full. 
“I am sorry,” Y/N told him. 
He gave her a questioning look. 
“For worrying you.” 
He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I will always be worried about you, Y/N.” 
And they both heard the unsaid possibilities with such words.
If she were to truly leave Autumn Court and Prythian altogether, how much sleep would Eris lose worrying about his mate being away from him, living a life without him? Could someone worry themselves so sick that they left the living completely?
“Come,” Eris stood and walked behind her chair to pull it out. “I will walk you to your bedroom.”
Silence once again settled between them. 
But any time Eris got somewhat close to Y/N, Ronan would give him a warning growl. Clearly it hardly took any time for the little fox to grow attached to Y/N – and protective. 
“Now I know how Lucien feels with my smoke hounds…” Eris muttered with a smirk. 
“You don’t mind that I’ve taken him in?” Y/N finally asked. 
“If it will make you happy, you could take on a dragon as a pet. However, it is not all that unusual for the ladies of this Court to take foxes as companions.”
“So I’ve heard…”
Eris nodded. “Did you learn that from your reading or from my loudmouthed brother?”
Y/N smiled. “The latter. He said the Cauldron worked in mysterious ways...but didn't elaborate." 
His face turned serious. “Yes, it does.” 
They were at he bedchambers just a moment later. 
Eris stalled. “Goodnight, Y/N. Do try and get some rest tonight.” 
—🍁—🍁—
Y/N shot up in bed, gasping for breath from a nightmare. 
She was covered in sweat and had even soaked her nightgown, as well as the bedding. 
Then she looked around and immediately found another reason for it: the fire at the other end of the room was roaring and none of the windows were open. 
Strange. She always opened all of them before going to sleep. 
No wonder she had sweat through everything, her room was like an oven. And the wind that comforted her every night while she slept had been kept out. 
But then images of her nightmare flashed in her mind.
Her sister, eyes staring lifelessly up at the full-moon sky. Her dead child in her arms along with her. 
Y/N had repressed the memory for so long, hardly allowing herself to think of her sister.
But Lucien bringing up motherhood and heirs earlier that day must have unlocked it from deep within her subconscious. 
She shook her head as if the movement would erase the memories. 
Then she slowly got out of bed to open the windows.
But as soon as she would swing one open, the wind would slam it shut. 
Y/N glared at the gesture. “What are you playing at?” 
She tried another window, and the wind did the same. 
“Do you wish for me to roast alive?” 
But the wind was not taking her sass.
Suddenly, a tornado-like gust flew into the room, whipping all the windows open. 
“Go…to…him.” The wind called. “Do…not…be…alone.”
Then the windows all slammed shut in unison. 
It should’ve made Y/N jump, but she'd grown accustomed to their dramatics. 
And they were right: she didn’t want to be alone. And she definitely didn’t want to try to go back to sleep, fearing that she’d see more of her sister’s cold, dead body. 
Forgoing a shawl or robe, Y/N tiptoed down the halls. 
When she reached her destination, her fist hovered over the door. 
But before she could knock, the door flung open. 
“Oh,” Y/N gasped. “I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be bothering you.”
There stood Eris, looking somewhat alarmed. He was shirtless, only wearing sleep shorts that stopped midway down his thighs. His hair was slightly messy, proving that he had been sleeping at some point – or at least trying to.  
“What’s wrong?” Eris asked. 
“Did you know it was me at the door?”
“Of course. I can smell you,” he explained as if it were obvious. 
Eris could also feel her in his heart and his soul. She was his mate, after all. But he kept that bit to himself.
“Right,” she answered, feeling stupid for even asking. 
He took a step closer to her. “Y/N, are you alright?” 
“Yes, I’m fine.” Her answer hurried out, not wanting to alarm him. “It was just…I had a nightmare. A-A-And the wind is being cruel, making my room far too hot.”
But she quickly shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said once again. “I shouldn’t have woken you.”
She tried to make her escape, turning to leave.
Then she was suddenly being scooped up into Eris’ arms. 
She squeaked in surprise and her arms gripped his shoulders by instinct. 
He carried her fully into his bedchambers and kicked the door closed behind him. 
“Eris, put me down!” But her voice was anything but stern. 
“No.” 
Then they were in his bedroom. And though it was nighttime, the moon still clearly displayed the giant windows taking up an entire wall. And they were all open, letting in the brisk night air. 
‘Traitors,’ Y/N thought to herself. 
Then Y/N realized that she’d never been in Eris' room before. Well, she stayed in his old room. But this was clearly a chamber for a High Lord, and it showed. 
“This is unnecessary…” she groaned when Eris walked toward the giant bed. 
He ignored her, of course, and gently placed her on the side of his bed. 
Y/N expected him to jump right in along with her. But instead he took a step back and kneeled in front of her, forearms balancing on his knees. 
“You have two choices: you can either tell me about your nightmare or you can keep it to yourself. But either way, I am sleeping in this bed beside you. Is that understood?”
Y/N was taken aback by his calm, yet unmoving, authority. 
Realizing that he was expecting some sort of response, all she could mange was a stiff nod. 
He waited a few moments to see if she would speak. 
Instead, Y/N laid down in his bed, turning so her back faced him and pulled the covers high over her shoulders. 
Eris sighed and stood, walking over to the other side of the bed. 
He slowly and carefully joined her under the covers, making sure to keep a respectable distance between them. Which was fairly easy with how large the bed was. 
He settled on his side, watching Y/N as she got lost in her head. 
When he stopped moving, the room was filled with the crackling of the fire in the room that was much lower and calmer than the one in Y/N’s room. 
A rumbling of thunder started in the distance and rain began to fall outside. 
“I dreamt of my sister,” Y/N whispered. 
Eris just waited, silently hoping his mate would keep speaking. 
“She died in childbirth.”
He shifted ever so closer. “I thought your entire coven was killed by a nearby village.”
“They were,” Y/N muttered. “This was only a year before that. She had fallen in love with man from the village before the one that slaughtered us. He was smitten…but he did not love her the same way she loved him. Men were not common companions of ours. They either feared us – or wished to tame us and rip us away from our coven to take us for themselves.”
Her eyes glazed over at the memory. 
“She thought he would travel with us, that she could have a family and her coven. It only took a couple of months before she was with child. But just weeks before the baby was due, there were complications and she went into labor. And even with a whole coven of magic, we couldn’t save her. They said that the man had cursed her – whether he realized it or not – and the magic was too strong to save her. He wasn’t even there when it happened."
Her voice shook as she finished. "I held my sister’s hand as the life left her body. Her baby didn’t survive.”
Tears dripped down Y/N’s face. 
“We had a ceremony for her... and he didn't come. It was like he had never met her at all. He took what he wanted, and didn’t mourn my sister. But he was the only reason she was dead.” 
Y/N rubbed the tears from her face. 
“What was her name?” Eris asked her gently. 
A sad smile pulled at her lips. “Neve. Her name was Neve.”
Eris couldn’t help himself any longer. He pulled Y/N to him, cradling her into his warm chest. 
He kissed the top of her head before he whispered in her ear. “I am sorry that you lost her – and in such a manner.” 
“I thought I was so alone after she died. But nothing could’ve prepared me for the loneliness when all of them were taken from me.”
Eris’ pupils shrunk as he got a dazed look. “I grew up in a home filled with servants, advisors, courtiers, my brothers. But…” His words died out. Perhaps it was selfish to compare his life to hers. 
But Y/N squeezed him.
“The worst loneliness is felt while surrounded by others,” Y/N offered sympathetically. “Yes, I lost my family, my coven…but to live as you did – and for centuries! I am sorry for you, too.” 
Eris pulled away from her so he could look in her eyes. 
“Y/N, we do not have to be alone anymore.” 
She gave him a pained look. So, Eris wouldn’t push her. 
“At least for tonight,” he corrected slowly. “We will not be.” 
He pulled her into his chest again. “Sleep, Y/N. I will fight your nightmares.” 
And it only took her minutes of listening to the sounds of the rain mix with Eris’ soft breathing and smelling his autumn scent for her to give in to sleep. 
—🍁—🍁—
The next morning, banging at the bedroom door startled Y/N awake. Either Eris had heard the interrupter long before her or he had already been awake for awhile, because he barely reacted to the sound. 
Though with Eris’ magic, no one was permitted to enter without his permission. 
Y/N was sleeping on top of Eris’ chest as he sat with his back against the headboard and his arms wrapped around her. 
“Eris!” Lucien yelled as he continued to bang. “Y/N has gone missing! She was not in her room and she slept through her lessons! No one has seen her in the house all morning!”
Eris and Y/N shared a mischievous look, but still didn’t move away from each other. 
Suddenly, Y/N couldn’t stop herself from falling into a fit of giggles. When Eris smirked down at her, she stopped, moved away from him, and hid under the covers. 
With a groan, Eris got up and moved to the door. 
Even just the subtle action of opening the door was done with clear irritation. “She is fine,” he growled at his youngest brother. 
Lucien looked over his shoulder just in time to see Y/N peak out from the covers, her face clearly hot with embarrassment. 
“Oh, good.” Lucien’s tone was sarcastic, but it was clear he was honestly relieved to see her alright. “Mother wishes to prepare you for the coronation.” 
“W-What?” Y/N stuttered out her confusion as she sat up in bed. 
Lucien glared at his brother. “You didn’t tell her.”
Eris rolled his eyes. “We both know this is an unnecessary spectacle…”
Lucien glared harder, then turned his attention to Y/N. “An official celebration for Eris becoming High Lord. It will be a grand ordeal, I assure you. And my mother was looking for you to get your dress fittings started.” 
––––––––
Thank you thank you thank you for being patient with me. Also, thank you to everyone you messaged kind and supportive words. hope this was worth the wait. 😅
Chapter XXIII
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fordtato · 7 months
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From a Palestinian - I know this is long but read it anyways:
If any leftists on this fucking site are using antisemitism to further the Free Palestine movement, you're not fucking helping. Not just because there are Jewish Palestinians. Not just because it furthers the idea that the movement is rooted in antisemitism. And not just because the people who are ultimately going to be impacted by this "activism" are Palestinian families (like my own), who will be on the receiving end of the brunt of government retaliation. It simply isn't helpful and isn't right.
Gaza is an open-air prison, cut off from food and water and medicine and fuel. Even before this recent chapter of the conflict, its people are penned in and brutalized and kidnapped and imprisoned and murdered, without any true relief, and very often without mainstream attention. This is being carried out by the government of Israel (with US government support) and its military, and it is aimed at the ethnic cleansing of Palestinians, a people without any formal military or power. Palestinians in the country are being slaughtered, and Palestinians outside of the country are slowing losing their connection to their identity and homeland and need to watch as their brethren are unilaterally labeled as terrorists and "animals" and killed, raped and buried in rubble.
As a movement we need to acknowledge that Hamas is an antisemitic force. There is no justifying it or going around it. Internet leftists, you're so good at nitpicking at the past comments of online allies and finding the problematic thing someone said on twitter in 2018 and then never defending them again no matter what. But we can't do the same here with Hamas when leaders in the party are antisemitic and when people are dead? We need to defend Jewish people and that doesn't stop here. And nobody dare try to explain to me that this is what a revolution looks like. Those killed weren't all IDF soldiers. And don't explain to me that even colonization and occupation is violence (especially if you live in the US, a colonized nation stolen from indigenous people), because of course I understand that. Palestine has a right to defend itself against violence, but Hamas is explicitly antisemitic and we can't just stand against the ruthless killing of civilians only when it's Palestinian civilians.
Yes, it's complicated. YES this violence and the power vacuums that allow groups like Hamas to take power are very often the response to brutality, and a long-term symptom in the aftermath of European imperialism. We can acknowledge that and understand that and even be sympathetic to the historical context that allows this to unfold while still condemning the death of civilians. After all, being against the death of civilians is at the core of the Free Palestine movement.
Defending Jewish people does NOT mean dismissing the slaughter and literal genocide of Palestinians in Gaza. Defending Jewish people does not mean defending the actions of the Israeli government. And standing with Palestine and freeing it from brutality does NOT mean ignoring that antisemitism is fraught in the world to this day. One part of why Israel is able to garner civilian support despite the atrocities of its government is because not many other countries are taking in refugees of antisemitism, and historically most countries have never protected Jewish people EVER. That is something we need to acknowledge. And acknowledging that does not mean we justify the actions of the government of Israel, and it does not mean we are turning a blind eye to the occupation or the slaughter and ethnic cleansing of Palestinian civilians.
BTW, tone-policing Palestinians about how they talk about Israel while we are in mourning, and collectively witnessing the brutality our loved ones are facing, and literally watching our homeland get destroyed IS HORRIBLE. IT IS UNHELPFUL. IT IS INSENSITIVE AND TONE DEAF. Do not bring up Hamas in my fucking inbox, MY PEOPLE ARE BEING SLAUGHTERED AND LIKENED TO ANIMALS AND I AM FORCED TO WATCH.
The same applies to tone-policing Jewish people when they are getting death threats at synagogues and JCCs and/or are mourning loved ones in Israel. Yelling "but what about Palestine" whenever a Jewish person in America (who has literally nothing to do with the heinous acts of a foreign government entity) mentions they are grieving or afraid or getting death threats doesn't fucking do anything. This isn't activism.
We are all tired. We are all traumatized. We will feel this for generations.
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satubby · 2 months
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Heyyy❤️ writer,Your yandere concept of Ryu Si O was amazing.I literally loved it. I request you infact beg😭you to write a hot smut between Ryu Si O & his S/O which would also serve as the 2nd part of the yandere concept.Hope you'll write more amazing stuffs.I'm eagerly waiting for your updates.
Hello my beloved reader, I'm sorry for answering your question... so late but you know, I have school exams in a few months so I stayed away from the Internet. But I hope you like this NSFW scenario of Ryu Shi-oh, something yandere hehe.
Author's Notice: As such, this is told from the POV of our beloved Ryu Shi-oh....
'Baby, eyes don't lie.... Cause I know I love you' — &lt;Based on the song: Eyes don't lie by Isabel Larosa>
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If we were honest, the first time I saw you, it was in the worst conditions, both prisoners of our environment. Your smile did not flank even though you will receive blows, I insulted you and kicked you in those cells of Pavel where darkness was our days.
I thought you were a fool, I cursed you for months when you gave me hugs or smiled like a stupid despite your wounds, I was years before you in this crappy cell I called home.... In fact, I don't even know if it could be called that. I did not understand in those moments that those feelings unknown to me, would be the ones that torment me to this day.
That at some point I began to love you, even though we lived like animals struggling to survive, at some point it was comforting to know that you would live another day by my side.
I don't know at what point we began to embrace each other.... I don't know at what moment I opened my shell to you that had been closed so as not to show weakness, at what moment we both began to long for each other? When emotions were forbidden in that hell where freedom was a luxury and living a necessity.
I thought we could escape, that we would be happy out of that place, so I followed the foolish plan of the one I considered my friend at that time, but he was not, a simple rat who betrayed me as soon as he could.
I remember that day when we ran away, we left behind that hellish past but still both you and that bastard were caught, you cried smiling while you pushed me to escape, I did not want to but you begged me.... I saw with my eyes how you 'died' and that ugly image remained in my memories.
Then I wandered aimless until I discovered that the bastard I once called a friend was alive.
Somehow I forced myself to return with the uncertain hope that you were alive... Until at some point, I became that puppet that Pavel wanted so much, all because I was tied to those feelings for you.
Looking for you, I managed to rise to a little stronger and more influential, until that bastard told me that in fact, if you lived and that only made me angry, all those years they could have sent you to me but you were my leash... A strap that was tightening me until it burst when I saw you again 12 years later.
Unfortunately, due to the trauma, when we met again, you had already forgotten about me, yet I did not give up and hugged you until I got tired because deep down, I had clung to the feeling of loving you ... This love that burned, crushed and tortured me with longing made me have mixed feelings.
But for you, I killed and crushed those who crossed my path, I swore I would make Pavel pay for the hell they had put us in, not for anything from now on you were living normally thanks to my efforts.
And now here, feeling your curves on my hands, our lips colliding in desire and despair. I have longed for you so much, I struggled to find you... At what point did your kisses become my addiction? I don't know, because at this point I only wish our paths don't separate.
Your tongue dances with mine, our clashing hips echo in the hot air of the luxurious room. Lust runs through me, my sweat mingles with yours, I know well that our love is a luxury, I know it's wrong to have feelings when I'm still Pavel's puppet, but right now I just want to be Ryu Shi Oh— That little boy who became more than a man, a hungry beast seeking to devour everything and become strong just to find you, the one who loves you and only lives for you. My revenge comes from loving you, I would make them pay for the cruelty they would have put us through.
Our hips echo in the air of the lustful room, your pussy presses against my cock and your juices only make me want to fuck you even more. My hips twitch as you let out gasping moans, your cheeks red with arousal make me smile possessively, I love you with passion and although for years I have been swallowing this bitterness for the feelings that I still did not have clear, I can't take it anymore... You are like the drug that makes me stronger.
"Ryu.... Ahhhh~ I love you so much, you know that... so don't suffer for me anymore, please already– Let's stop with this silly revenge" You let out an agitated sigh trying to find the right words in between lust laden gasps. I know you want me to stop this, but I don't want to be a puppet anymore, I don't want to see you suffer.
I don't want you to be the leash that ties me to Pavel, I don't want to know that you are not just mine, that those bastards could kill you if they wanted to and I couldn't rebel.
Because I know we both hang on the pendulum between life and death constantly under Pavel's strings.
"I love too," I whisper between gasps, feeling your warmth enveloping my cock, your lips tasting like peaches, almost feeling like I'm eating a forbidden but longed-for fruit.
Our bodies move in perfect harmony, fueled by desire and a deeper connection that transcends mere lust.
And despite your pleas that sound more like moans, constantly begging me to stop my erratic movements— I can't help but revel in the pleasure coursing through my veins.
It's as if every caress, every moan, brings us closer to some kind of resolution: an end to the pain and torture that has plagued us both.... Sometimes I think maybe I'm just selfish and that these fantasies of love are only to avoid facing my fears, especially that question that was running through my mind.
You felt the same way about me? I can't help but get angry at the thought that other men have looked at you while locked in that cell where you were treated like a sack of meat.
However, even though I lose myself at this moment, a part of me is still aware of the danger we face under Pavel's watchful eye. But for now, in the midst of this whirlwind of ecstasy, I choose to ignore that dark cloud hovering over me. Instead, I focus solely on you and the boundless love that keeps me sane.
Scratching your back with my nails and you equally with mine, I roll my eyes as I lose myself in the pleasure coursing through my body. Your moans ignite something primal inside me, fueling my lust. Feeling your pussy clenching around me drives me deeper, losing myself completely in the moment. The pleasure intensifies, erasing any sense of time or reason. I thrust harder, wanting nothing more than to give you everything you desire right now.
Our bodies are drenched in sweat and we writhe like dancers in an erotic ballet telling the story of our eternal connection. You whisper sweet words in my ear, filling my heart with warmth despite the cold darkness around us.
Your words pierce through my armor and reach parts of me I thought lost forever.You whimper asking me to stop, but it's not enough, I'm addicted to your scent.
Your breasts are like dough between my hands, my lips collide against your rosy breasts and my tongue plays with those hard buttons because of the lust that emanates from your body. I don't know how much time passed, but we reached our climax, both clinging to our hands.
Like a beast I devoured everything in you— I licked, scratched, bit and fucked you to exhaustion as our bodies became a sticky, sweaty mess. In the end I only know that I love you, that I am possessive and will not let others have you, you are mine and you .... you were fine with that. Years of suffering were worth it or at least that's how it feels to me.
We fell into each other's arms and before we fainted, you whispered an "I love you" and I can only answer you by looking into your sleepy eyes, running my hands through your hair and kissing your forehead. I love you, so much that a scale would not be enough to weigh my love for you ...
Because baby, my eyes don't lie when they tell you that you're mine!
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anonymous-dentist · 4 months
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Yes! Please talk about your aus
I miss blorbos being alright
I'll take this opportunity to talk about ouat au spiderbit because okay
So the way to break the curse is True Love's Kiss, which is why Osito Bimbo aka the Evil King sent Cellbit so far away. Such a powerful curse couldn't not be broken, so it just chose something really legitimately hard to accomplish (because everyone has a true love, but finding your One True Love is harder than you'd think.) The curse was actually cast during Cellbit and Roier's wedding in the Enchanted Forest to ensure that only Osito would get a Happily Ever After, and the last thing each of them saw was the other. And then they lost their memories of each other and were split apart, yeah. Everyone but Cellbit gets sent to Quesadilla City to live in ignorant human bliss for 28 years, and Cellbit ends up spawning in prison somewhere already with a body count on his hands that he's all-too-willing to add to.
But they find each other again in the Real World, and it's their first kiss that breaks the curse. It's super shy and awkward and neither really knows what they're doing at all, but they slowly grow more comfortable with it as their memories start to come back. It's muscle memory first, and then physical memories from the Enchanted Forest, and, well. See for yourself:
There's magic in the air, Cellbit can feel it. He doesn't know how he can feel it, but he does, and he's halfway convinced that he's just imagining it because, really, maybe Roier is magic. His lips are bitten and chapped, and they taste faintly of cherry cough syrup, but Cellbit doesn't think he's ever understood the word 'enchanted' until this very moment. Their noses bump, and Cellbit bites back a nervous giggle. "Stop laughing," Roier grumbles. He snaps his teeth at Cellbit's face annoyedly. "Finish kissing me, culero." "As you wish," Cellbit replies, and then he does so. Their lips connect once more, and this time the world explodes around them. Cellbit is almost jerked away with the force of it, wind tearing through his hair and pulling on the back of his coat. But Roier pulls right back, greedy and sweetly selfish. One hand finds its way into Cellbit's hair and the other lands on Cellbit's back, possessive. Cute. Somewhere, Richarlyson starts cheering. Osito Bimbo screams in outrage. The wind whips furiously, drowning out all noise but the faint beating of Cellbit's heart; he closes his eyes from the force of it, instead focusing all his energy on staying close to Roier. His skin tingles in the same way glitter shines. There are sparkles at his fingertips, but all he can think of is how much he missed this, and- Cellbit gasps, coming up for air for the first time. He opens his eyes to look at his One True Love for the first time in 28 cursed goddamn years, and his eyes meet Roier's- awestruck and angry. "I-" he starts, already turning to presumably strangle Osito Bimbo with his bare hands, but Cellbit rolls his eyes and pulls him back into another kiss, and then another, and then another and another and another and another as the world around them bursts with sudden returned magic. Roier melts into him. (He always was weak to kisses, Cellbit thinks he remembers.) "Marry me," he murmurs, breath hot against Cellbit's lips. "For real this time." "Get me a ring and ask again," Cellbit responds. He laughs as Roier pulls back and smacks his chest hard right above the heart. He lets Roier keep hitting him until he manages to grab Roier's wrist and hold it, leaning in for yet another kiss. (He missed him, okay?) The wind stops, finally. The magic settles, and Cellbit finally remembers the true story of Puss-in-Boots just as his magic hits him hard enough to send him flying out of Roier's arms and into a furry ball of fluff at his feet. Roier cackles and crouches to pick him up, cooing and pressing a lighthearted kiss between his ears. "There's my gatinho," he smiles. Cellbit glares. Not his fault he spent too long in human form. Asshole. Any and all anger fades as Roier's eyelids flicker and as his legs stagger. He has just enough time to jump out of Roier's arms before Roier crashes to the ground, peacefully asleep. Sleeping Guapito. The rest of the city comes stumbling out of their homes and businesses, and they all turn to Osito Bimbo- still frozen in the street- in fury. Cellbit hops onto Roier's chest and curls into a ball, purring as Roier unconsciously raises a hand to lay on Cellbit's side. This is fine. He'll let the townsfolk get their revenge first. He and Roier can have their fun later.
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odinsblog · 6 months
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I do not want to ever hear western democracies lecture the rest of the world on human rights ever again.
As I write this, more than 10,000 Palestinians have been killed in Israel’s bombardment of Gaza – almost half of them children. One child is being killed every 10 minutes in Gaza. Those numbers, it should be noted, only count the kids who are dying as a direct result of Israel’s indiscriminate bombing. The kids who were “lucky” enough to die instantaneously in an airstrike. And the not-so-“lucky” ones: innocent children buried under rubble, dying painful and protracted deaths as they are suffocated by the eviscerated remains of their home.
Those numbers don’t count the kids slowly dying of hunger and thirst. The kids getting sick from drinking sewage and sea water. They don’t count the kids with cancer who will not be able to get any care now that the Israeli siege has forced the only cancer hospital in Gaza to suspend operations. They don’t count the kids who are going to die from entirely avoidable diseases because hospitals in Gaza are ceasing to function. They don’t count the kids who are so traumatized from being born in an open-air prison, so scarred from having their neighbourhoods and loved ones eradicated in an apocalyptic act of collective punishment, that their lives have changed for ever.
(continue reading)
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lexxierave · 2 months
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I Don't Need You Part 1
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You hated this. To be shoved in a room with a guard placed outside like some kind of prisoner. You softly opened the door and peered out to see the same guard from yesterday standing out there. You quickly shut the door just as silently and let out a loud sigh and headed back to your lounge chair. You hated that particular guard even more than your current situation. At least with the other guards, you could have some kind of conversation with but this one was a total bore. And something about him made you not want to stay around him alone for too long.
               How you ended up in this position was beyond you. One moment you were happily living your carefree life and the next you get a special invitation from a palace in Ravka, one which you were forced to agree to attend. The next, when you had been going about your day and visiting the nearby town, you had been grabbed from behind and someone tried to drag you away down a side alleyway. And so now you’re stuck in your room for your “own protection” until the time of the ball which was still a week away.
               You were still sulking at your predicament when a knock came at your door. Turning your head to the door you grabbed a nearby letter opener in your hand, hiding it in your long sleeve, and called out, “Enter.”
               In walked a tall man dressed in all black. You had never seen him before, you would have remembered if you had, there was an air of power and mystery about him.
               “Given your situation, I would advise you to not tell people to enter your chambers without first knowing who it was on the other side of the door.” He warned as he took in his surroundings.
               There was another man you noticed talking to your supposed guard and you noticed no signs of a fight had taken place.
               “That would indicate that you are an unwelcomed guest and that I am an easy target.” You replied smuggle.
               He gave you a look as if he was studying your every move before you raised your eyebrows and nodded your head to the doorway. He turned to look behind him and saw that you had noticed your guard and his heartrender bantering among themselves.
               “Ah. So, you’re not unobservant. That will come in handy.” He remarked turning his attention back to you.
               “Of course, I’m not! No, if you are done being rude, I’d very much like to know who it is that is standing in my bed chambers.” You demanded with as much authority as you could, holding the letter opener tightly in your hand. You made sure it was hidden up your sleeve and not seen.
               “Forgive him your grace.” His companion interrupted; having heard your raised voice he could only assume that he had done something out of line to upset you. “I’m Fedyor and this is General Kirigan. We’ve been sent to-“
               “Collect you for King Lantsov’s ball.” General Kirigan finished with a grimace.
               Something told you there was something in that sentence that left the man with a bitter taste in his mouth, but you didn’t know what it was. If it were your choice, it would be this stupid ball. Ever since you got word of it your life has been turned upside down and now. Now two unknown men are standing before you wanting to take you somewhere else a week before the damn thing even happens.
               “No.” You simply state and turn away from them pouting a little at the very thought.
               “No?” The general repeats in disbelief. “I don’t think you fully understand the situation you’re in your highness.” He says as he takes long slow steps towards you.
               “There are men out there that not only want to kidnap you but some of them may just want you dead. Now we’ve traveled a long way at the request of our King to ensure his special guest for his ball arrives in safe hands. I don’t plan to let this mission go south because a spoiled princess doesn’t want to leave her ivory tower.” He reprimanded you like some sort of small child. As if he knew who you were and your wants.
               The very thought had your blood boiling and without a thought you threw the letter opener at him. He was closer to you now, about three-quarters of the way into your room and it was too late to stop the object after it left your fingers. Your hands quickly flew to your mouth when you realized what you had done.
               The knife never got close to him. The moment he saw that you had released something his shadows quickly came out and made a fast shield.
               “Maybe you’re not as helpless as they lead us to believe.” He remarks, eyes glaring at you and nostrils slightly flared.
               “You know nothing of me.” You reminded him as you glared back.
               “Ah. General Kirigan. I see you’ve met my daughter.” Your father’s voice greeted your ears, and you froze. Your eyes went wide before you quickly made your way to look more presentable.
               The three of you turn to see your father in your doorway and your guard now longer at his post.
               “Yes, we were just getting through the pleasantries.” He informed your father, and you could just die if he told him what really happened.
               “Good. Good. So, are you all set to pack dear?” Your father turned to ask you.
               So that’s how it was going to be. You could help but think as you sucked in a breath.
               “Of course, father.” You agreed politely and for the first time since his arrival, the Aleksander saw something he was all too familiar with. Someone forced to put on an act in front of a royal figure.   
               The fire and passion he saw earlier was gone and replaced by a dutiful princess but soulless if ever there was one. Not everyone would be able to see through the act though, he’d give you that credit.
               “Excellent! I’ll send the servants in to pack everything up for you and we’ll send it behind you. You just pack what you need for a two-day journey.” He informed you.
               Two days. That’s all you would have before your life would forever change. Two days and nothing you knew before would be the same. And did you really trust your life to a man who could so easily make your blood boil so quickly?
Part 2
@drinix
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hbowarbabes · 2 months
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Living to See Another Day Pt. 4 (Bonus scene)
Summary: At Dulag Luft Prisoner of War Transit Camp, Y/n is being interrogated by Lieutenant Hausmann. Assuming she’ll give up information, he is immediately proven wrong.
Words: 1.2k
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• • •
"Cigarette?” Lieutenant Hausmann held the carton in front of Y/n, waiting for her to take one. Y/n's heart raced as she looked at the man before her. He was tall and imposing, with sharp features and piercing eyes that were staring into her soul, not moving away for a second.
“I don’t smoke.” She swallowed nervously as he studied her with a calculating gaze.
Y/n had already turned down his offer of pouring her a glass of whiskey. On a regular day, saying yes to a drink would be no problem. But today, she felt the man had more sinister intentions behind the nice-guy act. 
Lieutenant Hausmann set the untouched carton of cigarettes back on the desk, eyeing Y/n with interest. She could see the curiosity in his eyes as he took in her appearance – the only female air force pilot he had ever interrogated.
“So, I was made aware that you didn’t arrive here on your own, yes?”
Hausmann sat, both hands interlocked as he grinned smugly at Y/n.
“Yes. I arrived with another member of my fleet.”
Y/n was careful with the amount of information she disclosed. One wrong word, and they might try to use it against her.
“And if I could have the name and any other-“
“I don’t know the man personally.”
Y/n cut the interrogator off just as he reached for pen and paper. She wasn’t going to leave him with details about Bucky.
“You don’t know the name of a man stationed at Thorpe Abbotts? A man in your fleet?” Hausmann chuckled dryly.
“No, really. I don’t waste my time conversing with them as I have other important duties to attend to.”
Y/n made it all up, all while keeping a stern face. She just hoped the interrogator would buy her lie and not try to dive into the details of her work and her colleagues.
"Y/n," he said, his voice smooth and collected. "I must say, you are quite a rarity in these parts. The only female air force pilot I have had the pleasure of interrogating."
Y/n bristled at his insincere tone, but she held her tongue. She knew that giving in to anger would only give him more reasons to kill her off. If she planned to live, she’d have to play it safe.
Hausmann straightened his posture, steepling his fingers in front of him. "Tell me, Y/n, what brings a beautiful lady like yourself to the mess of this war?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Y/n felt her blood boil at his condescending tone. She clenched her jaw, trying not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her get pissed.
Hausmann leaned forward, his eyes locked on hers.
Y/n grew irritated by his words, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She had dealt with sexist remarks before, especially in a male-dominated profession like the air force. But she refused to let this man get under her skin. She straightened her back and met his gaze defiantly.
“What is it you’re trying to say? You think I shouldn't be here?” Y/n asked, her voice steady despite the fear bubbling in the pit of her stomach.
Reaching across his desk, Hausmann pulled a thin file, opening it, flipping back and forth between pages. From Y/n’s view, there looked to be not much writing in the file. Just a picture of her during her time in flight training. It was odd since she never even remembered having a picture like that to herself.
"You understand why you're here, Y/n." Hausmann said in a low, menacing voice.
"No, I don’t understand." Y/n shook her head, her eyes narrowing.
"We have reason to believe that you are a spy."
Lieutenant Hausmann smiled, a cruel glint in his eyes. "We need some details on you and your recent mission as there is no information in your file. The Gestapo would have every reason to label you a spy. If you speak of anything you have knowledge of with this mission of yours, I can pass on the word that you are not a spy."
Y/n felt a surge of anger at his words. She knew the importance of keeping details of her mission a secret. All the information was classified. His false words of optimism left Y/n unwilling to spill the details.
“What would that do for me?”
“It would put you in a better place of course.”
Y/n wasn’t convinced. He wasn’t promising her a damn thing. She knew she wasn’t going back to England to begin with.
“How so? Because I don’t see how someone like you would be willing to get me back home.”
Hausmann leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving her face. Y/n remained silent, her jaw clenched in defiance. Hausmann's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin.
"You may think you are being noble by refusing to cooperate, but in the end, you will only be hurting yourself."
Y/n remained silent, her lips pressed tightly together in a thin line. He sighed and eventually closed the empty file on his desk, pushing it out of his reach.
Hausmann kept his gaze on Y/n, studying her carefully.
"It doesn't have to be like this, Y/n. You can make your time here much easier if you just tell me what I need to know. All you have to do is cooperate, and I can assure you that there won’t be any further issues.”
With a steely resolve, Y/n met Hausmann's gaze head-on and spoke in a firm, unwavering tone. 
“You’re not going to get anything more than what I’ve already given you.”
Y/n's heart raced in her chest, but she refused to show any sign of fear. She knew that Hausmann was trying to intimidate her into revealing sensitive information, and she was not about to give him the satisfaction.
"You are making a grave mistake, Y/n," Hausmann said coldly.
Y/n felt a surge of adrenaline course through her veins as she stared defiantly back at Hausmann. She knew that she was risking her own safety by refusing to comply with his demands, but she also knew that she had to stay true to her principles.
“I really expected more out of someone like you, Y/n. A woman of honor. A woman of class.”
Hausmann’s steely blue eyes pierced through Y/n’s angered eyes, watching her closely with a devilish grin.
“I take it they don’t teach ladies how to act properly, do they?”
“And I take it they don’t teach you and your men how to act decently around women, do they, Lieutenant? You’re not being convincing enough with your flattering techniques.”
Hausmann's face twisted into a mask of anger as he realized that Y/n was not going to give him what he wanted. With a snarl of frustration, he moved his hands away from the desk, inhaling deeply.
“I gave you a chance, Y/n. But since you are unwilling to comply, I really wish you the best.”
“Screw you.”
As Hausmann gave Y/n a smug look, the door of the office burst open. The two officers returned, each grabbing one of Y/n’s arms and dragging her out of Hausmann’s office
Y/n held back the urge to scream at the interrogator as he simply grinned at her while she was being escorted to her room, once again being left alone to fend for herself.
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ezziefae · 3 months
Text
Thoughts on Chap. 3 of The Prisoner's Throne (SPOILERS)
hello readers, forgive me for the typos, there are so many things about this chapter that had me screaming. Enjoy my thoughts!!!
“I want—” he begins.
“No,” she tells him. “By the power of Grimsen’s bridle, get on your knees and be silent.”
Wren has to be one of the scariest characters ever written by holly black. 
Her mouth curves into a smile, but it isn’t a nice one. “By Grimsen, I command you to do exactly as I say from here forward. You will stay on your knees until I say otherwise.”
Oak should have left when he had the chance.
Nahhh! I knew since TSH that we were gonna see Wren use the bridle on Oak, but now that i'm READING THIS it's still INSANE that she's willingly using it to CONTROLL him fully, it makes me think of Jude and Cardan, and how Jude kind of sorta had control of Cardan, but only by Pledge. Jude also had a power to command Cardan whatever she wished him to do, but she never ordered him to do something like THIS. Wren seems to have no mercy on Oak. She could legit make him kill or hurt anyone, she could make him jump off a bridge or say anything. Kind of also reminds me of when Locke ordered the ghost to betray Jude and the court of shadows, and how the Ghost had no control over his actions, and how in TQON he asked Jude to kill him because he'd rather die than be controlled by anyone. Wren did not come to play. This is so scary!!!
He finds her fascinating. He’s always found her fascinating, but he is not foolish enough to tell her that. Especially not in this moment, when he is afraid of her.
Oak is literally being controlled and is bridled and these are his thoughts…he's so downbad that it could actually get him killed. 
“I am already bridled,” he says, feeling a little frantic. “You don’t need to lock me away. I can’t harm you unless you let me. I am entirely in your power. And when I did escape, I came directly to your side. Let me kneel at your feet in the throne room and gaze up adoringly at you.”
THE LAST LINE!! IM DYINGGG!! THIS MAN NEEDS TO STOPPPPPP, OH OAKKKKK YOURE SOOOOO DOWNN BADDDDD FOR WREN
“I have to occupy myself somehow,” he says. “When I am between moments of gazing adoringly, of course.”
I have no words…Not Oak trying to use his charm on her, like dude, i dont think thats gonna work.
The door opens, and Fernwaif comes in, a single guard behind her. Oak recognizes him as Bran, who occasionally sat at Madoc’s dinner table when Oak was a child. He looks horrified at the sight of the prince on his knees, wearing the livery of a guard beneath a stolen cloak.
I absolutely LOVE that we’re getting past memories of Oak when he was a child. It also helps the readers feel nostalgic from reading the folk of the air series. When Jude, Taryn, Vivi, Oak, Madoc, and Oriana lived in peace.I hope we get so many of these moments…even though i have to say this paragraph is a little sad, how Oak recognized the guard as one of his fathers friends..
“You don’t know me as well as you think, Greenbriar heir,” she says. “I remember your stories, like the one about how you used a glamour against your mortal sister and made her strike herself. How would you like to feel as she felt?” 
NOT HER USING THIS AGAINST HIM!!! Love how that moment keeps being brought up. (And i predict that Oak will apologize to Jude about it in this book)
“I’ll slap myself silly willingly, if you like,” he offers. “No need for a command.”
OAK STOPPP IM DEAD
“What if, instead, I force you onto your hands and knees to make a bench for me to sit upon?” Wren inquires lightly, but her eyes are alight with fury and something else, something darker. 
Wren.... I don't think that sounds like a punishment to him sweetie…
“Crawl to me.” Her eyes shine, fever bright.
GUYS ITS THE LINE!! THE LINEEE!! SHE SAYS THE LINEEE HOLY SHI-
Again, Oak’s body moves without his permission. He finds himself writhing across the floor, his stomach against the carpet. He flushes with shame.
SHES SO WRONG FOR THAT. SHE'S HUMILIATING HIMM! Not even Jude did these thing to Cardan *sobs* 
When he reaches her, he stares upward, rage in his eyes. He’s humiliated, and she’s barely begun. She was right when she said he didn’t understand what it would feel like. He hadn’t counted on the embarrassment, the fury at himself for not being able to resist the magic. He hadn’t counted on the fear of what she would do next.
This is actually very sad. Wren is treating him somewhat in a way that she had been treated. She's hurt, and I guess it's very understandable, I just wish she didn't have to inflict that pain on Oak. 
Oak cuts his gaze toward Bran, who has remained stiff and still, as though afraid to draw Wren’s attention. The prince wonders how far she would go if he were not present.
Two things!! Number one I literally FORGOT the guard  was still in the room and he had to WATCH oak crawl to her. Number two, That last line…..what kind of things would she has ordered Oak to do if the guard had not been in the room……(side eye) 
Wren turns to him. “Perhaps I ought to have you sent to the Great Hall tomorrow and command that you endure ten strikes of an ice whip. Most barely get through five.”
Oh my god, she really is EVIL DUDE. I've never seen this kind of evil in a holly black book. Now I'm scared. 
Oak looks directly into her eyes. “Why are you keeping me at all, Wren? Am I a hostage to be ransomed? A lover to be punished? A possession to be locked away?”
“That,” she says, bitterness in her voice, “is what I am trying to figure out myself.” She turns to the guards. “Take him back to his cell.”
OH IM VERY EXCITED TO SEE WHAT SHE'S PLANNING. Remember that Jude and Cardan are on their way to save Oak, if anything I believe Wren is somehow going to use Oak against elfhame. Maybe she’ll order him to hurt jude or cardan. THIS BOOK IS GOING TO END ME AGH I NEED IT NOWWW.
“Good night, Prince of Elfhame,” Wren says as he is led from the room. He manages a single glance back. Her gaze locks with his, and he can feel the frisson of something between them. Something that might well be terrible, but that he wants more of all the same.
I'm very curious to know how Oak is going to handle this mess. Like he's absolutely F*CKED. He's so down bad for Wren that he would do anything to stay by her side and protect her, YET he also wants to protect his family members who are on their way to save him and to kill wren. He cannot save BOTHHHH, meaning he will probably have to choose sides. Holly Black why are you torturing us!!!
 MARCH 5TH HURYYY UPPP!
49 more days till this book comes out. stay strong. 
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The two months of bombardment Gazan civilians have been facing is devastating, but at the same time I know Palestinians take solace in the fact that the world has woken up to what Israel really is. It’s a mask off moment.
I know ppl visit Israel for tourism despite not always agreeing w the government, bc it is the Holy Land after all, and the land itself is beautiful. Yet how can anyone visit that country when they’re extremist genocidal colonizers? Imagine enjoying hummus in that fake ass country and then they claim it’s “Israeli” 😭
Now the “only democracy in the Middle East” is exposed for what they truly are to the entire world. Even with the October 7th music festival, how could these people travel to Israel for tourism to dance, twerk, sing, dance, laugh on a land where Palestinians are treated lower than animals and are trapped in an open air prison? It just makes no sense. It’s like if someone held an EDM concert next to the Russo-Ukrainian border where civilians are dying.
Palestinians who were forced out during the Nakba can’t go back to Palestine, but thirsty western tourists can go to “Israel” and take pics of their ass.
Even take the Israelis living there rn, like imagine being in Tel Aviv and cheering on Palestinian babies being blown apart and then going about your daily life like the world doesn’t hate your fake ass country, like you’re living in luxury and privilege while innocent men and women are being burned alive by white phosphorus bombs right beside you?
Idk how they live with themselves everyday. It’s totally shameless. I know we can’t blame Israelis for the actions of their government but at the same time all those people are LARPers/ colonizers who are knowingly squatting on someone else’s land.
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