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fdelopera · 26 days ago

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Welcome to the 28th installment of 15 Weeks of Phantom, where I post all 68 sections of Le Fantôme de l’Opéra, as they were first printed in Le Gaulois newspaper 115 yeas ago.

In today’s installment, we have Part II of Chapter 11, “L’enveloppe magique” (“The Magic Envelope”).

This section was first printed on Thursday, 4 November, 1909.

Gaston Leroux cut “The Magic Envelope” from his novel when he prepared the First Edition for publication.

In January of 2014, I published my translation of this chapter. Mine was the first English translation of this chapter to be published.

You can read my translation of “The Magic Envelope” on my blog here.

The text of this section starts at “All the same, Moncharmin was still looking at Richard in a way that the latter did not like at all,” and goes to “'Not on your life!’ cried Gabriel.”

TRANSLATION:

All the same, Moncharmin was still looking at Richard in a way that the latter did not like at all. It was easy to see that Moncharmin was suspicious of Richard, or at least did not trust him. Richard was infuriated.

Moncharmin explained himself.

“My dear fellow, who was it that spoke inside the box, if it wasn’t you?”

Richard raised his fist in rage but stopped mid-gesture. At the moment when he was going to slam his fist down on the desktop, he heard three sharp little knocks coming from inside the desk; his hand remained suspended in the air. The two Managers looked at each other.

“Did you hear that?” asked Richard in an uncertain voice.

“Yes!” said Moncharmin, who had become slightly pale…

They heard it again… They thought about the three sharp little knocks of which Mother Giry had told them.

Indeed, this is what they had clearly heard… Distinctly heard … from inside the desk … for there was no one under the desk…

But there was something on top!… A large envelope on which someone had inscribed an address in red ink. And it seemed to them that the three sharp little knocks had been rapped out for the express purpose of drawing their attention to that envelope.

Richard, who, however much he claimed to the contrary, was not completely devoid of superstition, cautiously reached out a hand towards the envelope, as if he feared that his touch might suddenly set it on fire.

Finally, he picked it up without further incident. It felt light in his hands, which were quick to open it after he and Moncharmin — who was leaning over his shoulder — read the address:

“For MM. the Managers of the Opera.”

“My dear friends,” said the letter, “it was I who spoke inside the box. I was there. If you did not see me, it is because I am slightly mistrustful of the police, who are always quick to make mistakes; although I had made all the necessary arrangements, as you can now deduce, so that if you had entertained the notion of informing them, they would have arrested both of you first, on your own instructions: that, you will admit, would have been quite entertaining… Let this prospect, my dear friends, be a lesson that you always bear in mind in the unlikely case that you should consider involving an outside force in our business.

“Here is how you shall handle the 20,000 francs.

“You shall slip twenty notes of one thousand francs each into an envelope that you shall find here enclosed. You shall seal this envelope and deliver it to Mme Giry one half hour before the next performance; she will do what is necessary. Cordially yours. P. of the O.”

Inside the envelope they had just opened, they indeed found another envelope that was exactly the same, folded in half, which bore the inscription in red ink: “For Monsieur P. of the O. Private.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next evening, one half hour before the curtain rose, an inspector came to see Mme Giry, who was already at her box attendant’s post, and requested that she report immediately to the office of M. Firmin Richard.

The good woman did not seem at all surprised by this message and momentarily left her duties, which consisted of awaiting the arrival of the first operagoers. She quickly went down to the season subscribers’ entrance, crossed the stage, and climbed the staircase. There she encountered her daughter, Meg, on a landing, who was in the midst of playing a prank on a fireman. Mme Giry gave her a slap on each cheek, and then went to knock on the Manager’s door.

“Enter!”

She did not seem to notice that the Managers were staring at her with an uncustomary urgency. She took an envelope, rather heavily laden, that they held out to her. She read the address, and since she was carrying the basket from which she rarely parted, she placed the envelope inside.

“No doubt you know what this means?” asked Moncharmin.

“Of course, Monsieur Manager! It’s not magic! It’s a letter for the Phantom.”

“And you are going to deliver it to him yourself?”

“So it seems. What would you have me do with it?”

“You are going to deliver it to him by hand?”

“Monsieur, I’ve never seen the Phantom’s hands, and I couldn’t tell you whether he has any…”

“But how do you do it?”

“I put it by his seat; it’s as simple as that!… And apparently, he comes to get the envelope. That has to be the way it happens…”

“Has it been long that you have served as his letter-box?”

“The first time that it happened was during the time of Debienne and Poligny, a few days before their departure… M. Poligny himself handed me a letter, but much thinner than this … and I did more or less what I am going to do with this one… Goodbye, Monsieur! With all due respect, I’m on my way… The patrons ought to be arriving, and everyone must earn a living, don’t you agree?”

Richard and Moncharmin did not stop her from leaving. They had not taken their eyes off of Mother Giry or her basket. No sooner had she closed the door than she was followed by Mercier, the Administrator. The box attendant’s every movement was carefully monitored. Her comportment was quite natural and she did not so much as touch her basket until she arrived at Box 5. There she calmly opened her basket and withdrew the precious letter. She left the basket on a stool and entered the box with the letter, which she placed on the shelf by the armrest.

Meanwhile, Mercier in turn took the liberty of opening the basket and found that it contained nothing more than a handkerchief of the finest lace monogrammed with the interwoven letters, “P.O.,”[4] a bunch of keys, a box of matches, twelve sous, and an old edition of the Petit Journal, folded to the section of the serialized novel: The Vampire’s Daughter.[5]

As for Moncharmin and Richard, they both armed themselves with opera glasses and stationed themselves in separate boxes in the upper tier so that they could not be seen, although the letter did not for an instant leave their dual patrolling gaze. In this way, they spent the duration of the performance, both the acts and the entr’actes.

They did not see anything occur inside the box, and yet still they watched the envelope on the little shelf by the armrest. They made arrangements so that after the performance was over, they would convene together with Mercier in Box 5, without interrupting their surveillance on the envelope for even a moment.

Then the two Managers, standing before Mercier, who understood nothing of the events that were transpiring, for he had followed his instructions without being briefed on the details of the affair, opened the envelope with a smile. They believed that the Phantom, who was surely possessed of a practical mind, must have sensed himself being watched and had not dared to touch the envelope. Indeed, they found the 20,000 francs still inside. And so, with a slightly smug air, they returned to their management.

But as they arrived in Richard’s office, they discovered that, sitting there on the desk, in the same location as before, was an identical envelope, which contained a “brief note” thusly worded:

“Candles and chandeliers![6] Brevity is the soul of wit; the Bank of Saint Farce[7] is not legal tender in my Empire. In the future, try to be a bit more serious, or I shall wax wroth once again. Candles and chandeliers!

“Your servant,

“P. of the O.”

It was no longer a matter of “friendly regards.” Needless to say, the Phantom was furious. But how had he known that in place of real banknotes, the Managers had slipped fake notes into the envelope, since it had remained unopened and had not been touched? And as for this latest threat — candles and chandeliers! — how had it arrived in Richard’s office, since after the last letter, Richard, recalling a bit late the recommendation given to them by the departing Managers, had installed safety locks on the doors of his office to which he alone had the keys?

I regret that I must here use an expression which is in no way recommended by the dictionary of the Academy, but no other word would be able to convey with detail and yet with restraint the state of mind of one of the Managers: Firmin Richard was fuming! No exclamations, no curses, no angry gestures. But in his breathless silence, he seemed to radiate fury.

And what infuriated him more than anything, even more perhaps than the absurd business of P. of the O., was Moncharmin’s eye, that eye which regarded him, Richard, with clear malicious irony.

For that ironic look could only come from two things: either Moncharmin imagined that P. of the O. was “making sport” of Richard in particular, or Moncharmin had begun once again to suspect his colleague! And this latter thought crowned Richard’s misery. Oh, to be the pawn, and yet to be thought the mastermind!

Suddenly, he cried: “Mercier! Go get me Gabriel!”

Gabriel, the chorus master, was Richard’s friend. He had Richard’s confidence, and frequently, when Richard was in trouble, he found excellent council in Gabriel. When Mercier had returned with Gabriel, Richard asked them both to sit down. Then, having ensured that no one could hear what would be spoken between the four men, having ordered Rémy, his secretary, who was keeping watch in the adjacent room, to prevent anyone from entering the office, he recounted from the beginning the details of that strange affair. Gabriel and Mercier listened in perfect silence.

When Richard had finished, Gabriel stood up and said: “You must put the 20,000 francs in the envelope, but the real 20,000.”

“That’s also my opinion,” agreed Mercier, and he added: “And we must inform the Commissary of Police!”

“Not on your life!” cried Gabriel.

NOTES:

[4] The letters monogrammed on this handkerchief are “F.O.” in the French, and it is the translator’s theory that this is short for Fantôme [de l’] Opéra. These initials have therefore been translated as “P.O.” for Phantom [of the] Opera. It is possible that the rest of the items in Mme Giry’s basket were meant to be Erik’s possessions, as well. For instance, the matches might be the implements that Erik used to write his various notes, since Leroux described that Erik’s handwriting looked like it was formed using the tips of matchsticks, presumably dipped into his signature red ink. It is also tempting to think of Erik reading a story about vampires, since there are certain aspects of his character, such as sleeping in a coffin bed, that appear to be drawn from vampire literature. It is certainly amusing that Leroux inserted this slightly self-referential element of a character reading a feuilleton within his own feuilleton. However, it remains unclear why these items were in Mme Giry’s basket. Like so many other details in Leroux’s novel, we have no definitive answers.

[5] A thorough search of Le Petit Journal, a Parisian daily newspaper similar to Le Gaulois, from 1863 to 1910 can find no feuilleton by the name of La Fille du Vampire. It is likely that this serialized novel was Leroux’s invention.

[6] This exclamatory phrase in French is “lustre et balustre,” which literally means “chandelier and baluster” (the baluster in this instance is the ornate stem of the chandelier into which the candle-bearing arms are inserted). This particular use of these words may be an expression of Leroux’s own devising, as it does not appear in contemporary books of French wordplay. That said, the words “lustre” and “balustre” frequently appear together in French grammar books as rhyming pairs, so there is likely a subtextual relationship between them. Instead of attempting an idiomatic translation, the translator has chosen a more literal translation, albeit one that captures some of the phrase’s rhyming quality, in order to retain the chandelier reference, since this gives the phrase its menace.

[7] The Bank of Saint Farce was pretend currency, similar to play money.

Click here to see the entire edition of Le Gaulois from 4 November, 1909. This link brings you to page 3 of the newspaper — Le Fantôme is at the bottom of the page in the feuilleton section. Click on the arrow buttons at the bottom of the screen to turn the pages of the newspaper, and click on the Zoom button at the bottom left to magnify the text.

#phantom of the opera #poto #gaston leroux #le fantôme de l’opéra #le gaulois #phantom translation #the magic envelope #l'enveloppe magique #lustre et balustre #15 weeks of phantom #phantom 115th anniversary

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julienbakerstreet · 4 months ago

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Gender, Marriage, and Queer Subtext in My Dearly Beloved Detective

Me? Sapphic-truthing a Soviet Sherlock Holmes adaptation? Yes obviously and you will be too at the end of this.

First of all, I love this movie. It's absurd and silly but I love the way it deals with gender politics. The premise (that the literary character Sherlock Holmes became so popular that an unspecified group decided to form a detective agency at 221B to help everyone who came asking for Sherlock Holmes, and then hired two women to fill the roles because their last names were already Holmes and Watson) requires you to suspend your disbelief (did Shirley Holmes take up violin to be more like her literary counterpart? Why did they insist upon hiring people with the correct last names but not the correct genders? Why do they turn 221B's sitting room into a museum that implies Sherlock Holmes is a real man before introducing clients to Shirley?) but it's so worth watching.

The plot of the movie revolves around sexism. From the opening scene, we see a client doubt Holmes’s skills. "Do you really think I will entrust my case to you? Sorry, Miss, this is not as easy as cooking porridge," he says. To him, a woman's domain is restricted to domestic tasks. In response, Holmes lets loose a string of deductions, including one that a male detective could not have made. "Only a woman can sense a light scent of French perfume in burned coal," she says. One of the reasons I'm very passionate about adapting/reading Holmes as a member of marginalized groups is because people in marginalized communities have knowledge that outsiders aren't necessarily aware of that would be a boon to Holmes's detective work. Elementary had episodes where Sherlock's past as an addict or Joan's experiences as a Chinese woman were crucial to solving the case. Queer interpretations of Holmes often give him insight into a criminalized queer Victorian underworld that aids his work. MDBD shows how Holmes's gender (or, more accurately, the way she is treated because of her gender) hinders her, but it also demonstrates how it can be an advantage in her work. ACD Holmes says that his irregulars are valuable because they can go places and hear things that he never could, and the same is true of women, who were/are often overlooked.

But the main plot of the movie isn't about men underestimating Holmes and Watson. It's about men being intimidated, emasculated, and jealous of them. Scotland Yard is humiliated that a woman is showing them up at every turn and getting the credit in the papers. Early in canon, the police are frequently dismissive and envious of Holmes, and I love how MDBD imagines how the tone of these interactions would change if Holmes was a woman. The police view Holmes's success as a slippery slope to female equality: "If a woman detective can make a joke out of Scotland Yard, anything can happen in England." "This will end with a minister in a skirt," one says- a meta-reference to Margaret Thatcher being England's PM when MDBD came out.

Scotland Yard officials dig into Shirley's past to try and get dirt on her. Before she was a detective, she worked in a law office and had once been a brilliant student. The only black mark on her record that they can find is that she's never been married. "As a professional she's perfect, but as a woman..." a Yarder says, making it clear that to be a professional and a woman are two separate things. This is echoed in the line "She's not a woman, she's a rival." It's clear that the professional respect they have for her can only exist if they desexualize her. "A woman, charming, beautiful, powerful, wealthy. And despite all that, she's unmarried... it's extremely suspicious." Both of the men in this scene are also unmarried, but they only find it inherently suspicious for Shirley.

Later on in the film, the chief inspector tells his assistant that they should comfort Shirley and Jane after they shut down their agency. “Perhaps I should marry her… And you can marry Watson,” he says. He’s envisioning a future in which he publicly humiliates Shirley and then marries her to comfort her. In his mind, marriage- even to the man who schemed to embarrass her in front of the press and end her detective career- is automatically something Shirley would want and be comforted by. It’s beyond the realm of imagination to him that she’s unmarried by choice.

It's unclear how old Shirley is supposed to be, but the actress who played Holmes, Yekaterina Sergeyevna Vasilyeva, was 40 when the movie was released. The characters don't view her as too old to be desirable, they only comment on the fact that she's so incredible and has gone this long without getting married. In fact, a subplot of the movie involves a former client of Shirley's traveling to England from Spain because he's in love with her. Shirley doesn't reciprocate, going so far as to learn Spanish to tell him to leave her alone more effectively. "If there is one man who truly thrills me, it's Sherlock Holmes and no one else," Shirley says. Because Sherlock Holmes is a fictional character in this universe, she's saying that her career as a detective is what drives her. It's refreshing to see a middle-aged woman who the narrative treats as desirable without making it central to her plot or personality. I appreciate how the movie doesn’t soften Shirley’s personality from ACD Holmes’s- she can be just as abrasive, impatient, and cold while maintaining ACD Holmes’s capacity for emotion.

The Scotland Yard officials decide to set up a fake crime, get Shirley to investigate, let her believe that she's solved it, and publically humiliate her by revealing the hoax and saying "That's what happens when women become detectives." This scheme is an admission that they know that Holmes is more skilled than they are and they know they can't beat her fairly. The way they attempt to humiliate her indicates that they do respect her, even as they resent her for it. I've always loved that ACD Holmes critiques how self-interested the police and the justice system can be, and MDBD picks up on that theme. The men at Scotland Yard resent Shirley so much that they're willing to compromise their ability to solve crime and help people just so a woman isn't seen as more competent than they are.

Another detail I love is that throughout the movie, Jane is shown as a full partner to Shirley. Shirley trusts her to make deductions and investigate crime scenes. When Shirley is practicing her marksmanship or her martial arts, so is Jane. Jane is a little younger and implied to be less experienced, but she's not a Watson who's just along for the ride. Their partnership is very important to both of them, and Shirley reacts with distress when her Watson announces her engagement, similar to how Holmes reacts to Watson's engagement in The Sign of the Four. Unlike ACD Holmes, she criticizes Jane's choice, convincing her to call it off.

Shirley and Jane spend a full 10 minutes of the movie in drag. They wear men's evening wear and mustaches, disguising themselves to go undercover in a gentleman's club. While in drag, Shirley flirts with a flower seller outside of the club. Jane, following her lead, quickly flirts with another flower seller. They aren't being observed, and this has no relation to the investigation. Shirley expresses no interest in men throughout the movie, but she uses male dress to flirt with women.

Inside the club, the men sing a song about how "there's no one more stupid than a married man," "no one is smarter than an old bachelor," and "our hearts are closed to girls." These men get to be proud to be bachelors, a stark contrast to how view Shirley's lack of a husband is viewed as a suspicious defect. The men even bemoan how "for years the world was groaning and suffering under women's oppression." Shirley and Jane have been facing sexist treatment the entire movie, yet these men are so convinced that women are the ones oppressing them.

After Holmes and Watson leave the club, Watson cries because she was scared of being found out, and Holmes coldly tells her that she needs to practice acting as a man "so the lowest sailor would take us for his mates." Evidently, they frequently need to present as male for their investigations, because men aren't always willing to be open with two ladies. She tells Watson (the more feminine of the pair) that her skin and hands are too soft and they need to stop using cosmetics. She even encourages Jane to use sandpaper to make her hands rougher. Jane balks at this and Shirley asks if she wants to be a good detective. "Let me be a bad one, but I will remain a woman," Jane says, still wearing a mustache and suit. "I'm a woman and I will stay one!" She chastises Holmes for attempting to control her personal life and derogatorily calls her "Mister Holmes." Shirley's gender non-conformity is part of her, and she can't fathom why Jane doesn't want to live like she does. Jane is comfortable defying gender norms by working as a detective, but Shirley's devotion to her work at the expense of her femininity is too much for Jane to accept. Despite being Holmes's partner, Jane projects the same gendered disapproval that Scotland Yard does. Whatever else Shirley is, she's a failed woman first in their eyes. In anger, Jane calls up her ex-fiance and declares that she will marry him to spite Shirley, even as Shirley tells her to stop. Marriage is, for Jane, a repudiation of her partnership with Shirley and the noncomformist lifestyle they lived together.

Towards the end, Shirley and Jane talk to a woman (going by the alias "Rosita") who is part of the plot by Scotland Yard to embarrass Shirley. The Yard used her incarcerated husband to coerce her. Shirley sees through this and appeals to her "woman to woman.” "Love to your husband is a great feeling, but love to the truth is greater," she says. Rosita asks if Holmes and Watson have ever been married, implying that they cannot understand her reasoning because they're single. It’s that understanding and alteration of priorities that is assumed to come with marriage for a woman that Jane is leaving Shirley for.

The plot's resolution was a little disappointing. Shirley's Spanish suitor holds the chief inspector hostage until he agrees to... have all of Scotland Yard perform an elaborate and choreographed apology song to Shirley? It's weird. She's unimpressed and looks uncomfortable with the whole display. For all the ways this movie highlights Holmes's intelligence and capability, it's odd that the resolution to the police wanting to embarrass Holmes for being a competent woman is the man who harassed Holmes the entire movie and ignored her when she told him to leave her alone forcing the men of Scotland Yard to play nice with Shirley and Jane. I would have preferred to watch Holmes and Watson teach them a lesson on their own terms, which would have thematically been more in line with the rest of the movie.

Later, the chief tells Shirley he's ashamed of how he behaved and wants to end the rivalry and be friends, but even this apology is halfhearted. There never was a rivalry between them- he was just resentful of her success, even though it helped him.

The movie ends with Jane, freshly married, running into Shirley. She kisses Shirley on the cheek and gives her half of her wedding bouquet before Shirley kisses her (rather deeply and for longer than I'd consider strictly friendly) on the mouth. Shirley twirls in delight before walking off, but Jane runs after her and they say goodbye one more time. Jane goes back to her husband and embraces him before looking back at Shirley. Shirley walks away, caressing the cheek Jane kissed and wiping away her tears, still holding half of her partner's wedding bouquet.

To me, this movie ultimately reads like a bittersweet love story between Shirley and Jane. Jane is a good detective, but she can't bring herself to betray social convention to the degree required to be great. Holmes doesn’t understand why Watson’s femininity and social position as a lady is important to her. ACD Holmes being upset at losing his partner when Watson gets married has been explored so many times through both queer and straight lenses, but marriage for a man and a woman in Victorian England was very different. A married man had much more agency and separate identity than a married woman, and Shirley is very aware of how marriage would affect Jane's freedom to do their work. I like to think that they continue their partnership and eventually get together (possibly when Jane realizes that Shirley was right to advise her against marrying a gambler) because they have a very sweet and domestic relationship.

As always, all my love to @spiritcc for making this and other Russian adaptations accessible to English speakers!

#if you read this entire thing you deserve a medal #by god can i ramble. this movie is everything please go watch #my dearly beloved detective #my writing #meta #sherlock holmes

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gaillol-13 · 2 years ago

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Currently obsessed with how gadg looks without his trenchcoat (ft: more material gorl brain.)

#lov his suspenders #also brain can pull off ANY look thats how freaking iconic he is #inspector gadget #gadget #brain the dog #brain

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rightnewshindi · 2 months ago

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सैन्य अधिकारी को पूरी रात जेल में रखा बंद, महिला रिश्तेदार के अर्धनग्न कर पीटा; इंस्पेक्टर समेत पांच पुलिसकर्मी निलंबित

Odisha News: भुवनेश्वर कमिश्नरेट पुलिस के तहत आने वाले भरतपुर थाना में सेना के मेजर गुरुवंत सिंह और उनकी रिश्तेदार अंकिता प्रधान को प्रताड़ित करने के मामले में पुलिस डीजी वाई.बी.खुरानिया ने थाना के तत्कालीन इंस्पेक्टर दीनकृष्ण मिश्र के साथ 5 पुलिस कर्मियों को निलंबित कर दिया है। जानकारी के मुताबिक, इंस्पेक्टर मिश्र के अलावा एसआई वैशालिनी पंडा, एएसआई सलीलमयी साहू, सागरिका रथ और सिपाही बलराम…

#army officer #beaten #female relative #Five policemen #inspector #jail #overnight #stripped #suspended

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weixuldo · 2 years ago

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Allow me// ch 3

Vader x Reader

a/n: ngl i don’t really have a plan for this fic, but i love writing it so imma just see where it goes!! ty for reading :)

Vader hates suiting up

warnings: depiction of injury, body insecurity, cursing, anxiety

______________________

Vader reveled in the cooling water of his bacta tank; the only place he felt any sense of relief for his aching body.

Though it had been nearly two decades since his accident on Mustafar, the pain never truly subsided, especially since his suit was intentionally never upgraded.

The suit was uncomfortable and would harshly rub against his scarred skin, there was basically no breathing room- so he would often become overheated, also the heavy weight of the boots and armor took a heavy toll on his spine (which had to be surgically reinforced).

He never really got used to his suit but over the years he learned how to deal with it better; he learned how to ignore his pain by focusing on his work, spending as minimal time in the monstrosity as he could, and taking frequent bacta soaks.

He often used the high tech machinery of his personal ward to assist him with tasks of bathing, suiting up, and his oxygen treatments. But every once in a while he would require human assistance, that’s where Vanee (Vader’s personal assistant-of sorts) would come in.

Vanee was once an imperial inspector stationed at Vader’s Castle on Mustafar, but spent too much time near the exposed lava and the fumes drove him to madness.

His mania manifested differently than most who succumbed to the gasses of Mustafar; in his case he became obsessively devoted to Lord Vader, he proved himself a loyal servant and trusted ally.

Other than Palpatine, Vanee was the only other human who had seen Vader out of his suit and lived to tell the tale (not that he would dare discuss his master’s true form with unworthy onlookers).

Back in the tank, Vader’s oxygen system dealt him a healthy dose of air before he motioned for the tank to be drained; it was time to get back to work.

The dark room was only lit by the light coming from his bacta tube and a few blinking green lights on the walls. His muscles tensed as the cool air hit his skin while the water drained.

Soon the tube was lowered and he was left dripping over the lit platform. His harness that suspended him began to rub since it was now holding all of his weight; a feeling he had unfortunately gotten used to.

Though he had gone through this routine for decades, he still couldn’t help but feel a little insecure of his body being on display in the middle of this large room.

If he weren’t a force user, he would be completely helpless; suspended with no limbs and a ruined respiratory system, he was scarred and burned beyond recognition… he was pathetic.

He hated to dwell on the past, but sometimes he couldn’t help the memories that came flooding back.

How was he once a renowned Jedi?

At one point, people followed him because they respected him, not because they feared him.

His body was once healthy and he didn’t need any assistance, not even with his prosthetic arm…if anything that arm was enhanced by the technology.

But now that same technology was his burden. He was trapped in the very suit that kept him alive.

He would die in that suit.

He left his thoughts when the machines around him began to dry him off. They worked diligently to prep him for his suit.

He may have added a few tasks that he wanted them to do that the emperor didn’t originally intend for. Before they would attach his robotic limbs, he liked them to gently apply cooling slaves to the areas around his ports; that’s where the friction hurt the most.

Though today, the machines were pressing a little too hard which caused the Sith Lord to groan in pain. He shut his eyes and made a note that he would need to check them later, before allowing the machines to proceed with his limbs.

First, his arms were applied, the pressure of the limbs securing made him wince, though it was nothing he couldn't handle.

Next were the legs; the platform rose and began to attach. Everything felt fine until they began to twist too tightly which caused him to release a pained shout.

He used the force to reverse the machine’s progress and loosen the legs to where they needed to be.

He had the machine lower him to the ground and he clawed at his stumps. The tightening made the metal around his ports bend slightly and they began to ache; he wasn’t going to be able to finish getting ready this way if the machines kept malfunctioning.

Begrudgingly he called for Vanee through the force as he propped himself up using his secured arms, this was humiliating…

The large sliding doors opened and hurried the cloaked man. Vanee rushed to his master's side and knelt before him.

“What may I help you with, my Lord?” Vanee asked, casting his gaze down out of respect for the Sith.

“I require assistance to finish getting into my suit, the mechanics are not operating correctly today.”

Vanee nodded and helped Vader to his feet; he cringed as his weight shifted onto the metallic legs. He limped towards the bench on the opposite side of the room and sat with a grunt.

Vanee hurried around collecting the Sith’s garments and soon Vader was dressed. He headed towards the door with a slight limp, but before he reached the exit an odd sensation waved over him.

The feeling was warm and comforting, a feeling he had not felt in many years; it was the feeling he used to get when she was near.

It was probably nothing though, just a random trick of the force; surely it wasn’t because you happened to be walking past the door on the other side… that would be ridiculous-

“Shall I ask for the mechanics department to send an inspector, My Lord?” The hooded man asked as Vader snapped back into reality.

“That will not be necessary, I have someone in mind that I want to work on it.” Vader said before he promptly left the room.

_____________________

In the weeks since your last encounter with Lord Vader, you had carried on in your tasks, trying to keep your delusional daydreams at ease; of course you were crazy to even have a shred of interest in the man, but something in you just couldn’t help it.

You wouldn’t say you necessarily had a crush on him… but you got butterflies when you’d spot him, you would take the long route to your destination if you thought you may get a glimpse of him on the way, you would mention him in passing conversation with other workers just to hear his name.

….ok

Maybe you did have a little crush on him.

But, you knew it was insane. He was a tyrant, a dictator… a murderer.

You knew some of the appeal was the danger and the risk of liking him , but it was also because he was the first human to be remotely kind to you… but you couldn’t seem to stop your infatuation.

You didn’t know much about the suited man, except for his status and power in the empire. You often tried to imagine what he looked like under the mask; was he handsome? Did he look old?

What color were his eyes? We’re they the traditional Sith yellow? Or were they brown? Maybe Green? Or Blue?

What color was his hair? Was it cut short or long?

You liked to imagine him as a handsome man who aged well, you knew he had to be pretty built just based on his stature alone.

You liked to imagine how his muscles looked… were they bulky? Were they more defined?

You pondered those thoughts as you walked down the long corridor to your posted station for the day, some of the x-wings needed some work and you were the only available mechanic at the moment.

As usual, you took the longer route that passed by the Sith Lord’s chambers; each time you walked by you got butterflies. The fact that at any moment he could be in that room, only a few feet from you, gave you goosebumps.

As you passed, you remembered back to the night that he had killed those troopers; you were scared for your life that night. His heavy footsteps and patterned breathing still echoed through your ears.

Once you got further down the hall you heard a door behind you swish open; you wanted to look back, but something told you to keep moving.

You continued on until you heard the oh so familiar respirator.

It was him.

You secretly smiled to yourself, you knew it was him whom you sensed. Throughout this time you had been getting better and better at detecting his presence.

“Halt” his booming voice exclaimed.

You stopped in your tracks, maybe you were too obvious with your feelings. Either way, it wasn’t a good idea to keep him waiting so you turned to face him.

The dark figure came towards you with a strong gait, though he seemed to be limping slightly.

You bowed, “My Lord”.

“Just the person I was looking for” he stated, towering over you.

He was searching for you? Was this it? Was he going to tell you how inappropriate your thoughts had been? Was he going to dismiss you? Or was he going to kill you?

Fuck! Even now your thoughts betrayed you.

“How may I be of assistance?” You asked, making contact with his dark lenses.

“I require your services on some of the machines in my ward, you shall accompany me” he said, turning on his heel back towards the room he came from.

You knew his word overrid that of your boss, but you would be punished if you didn’t attend your post… Vader didn’t seem like one to give excused absences to management thought and it's not like you could just ask him to let your boss know where you were… he was the Sith Lord, after all ....

Either way, your priority was to fulfill the Sith's wishes.

The room was dark and once you were inside he quickly slid the massive door shut with a simple wave of his hand. Was it bad that his action excited you?

Stop.

If you were worried about him sensing your feelings earlier, how about now?! You needed to get it together

The lights in the room started to gradually light up and he led you towards a platform in the middle of the room. Surrounding the pad were maintenance and fine motor droids, these were often used to assemble intricate machinery. Maybe the Sith tinkered in his free time.

You took a quick survey of the rest of the room; most of it looked pretty normal, except for the medical droids in the corner. What was that for?

“These machines have been malfunctioning, I need them to be tuned back to their personalized settings.” Vader spoke before heading back towards the exit.

Wait, how were you supposed to know what the settings were? And you were not about to be killed over a mistake you didn’t even have instructions for.

“My Lord, wait!” You exclaimed, before you could think of a more formal way of asking for his presence.

“What is the issue?” He asked with a strong tone.

You were petrified, but the demanding tone sent a shock right down to your core.

“I am not sure I will be able to fix these machines if I do not know their purpose. If the droid is intended for mechanical repairs it will require different attention if it is for repetitive assembly.” You explained lightly.

The Sith Lord stood for a moment, all you could hear was the whirs of his breathing and your own rapid heartbeat.

Suddenly he addressed you, “the information we discuss does not leave this room”.

“Of course, My Lord” you confirmed.

“I use these machines to suit up”

What exactly did he mean by that?

“They help dress you?” you asked.

He sighed annoyedly and you were afraid he was growing impatient with you.

“I’m sorry, My Lord, I do not unders-”

“Many years ago I was injured in battle and these machines assist me when I must dawn my suit”

Oh.

“I’m sorry”

“Pay no heed to my plights”

He sounded almost apologetic…

“May I ask the specific issues the machines were making?”

Your heartbeat quickened with every second he took to answer back; you had already asked so many questions, surely his patience was wearing thin.

He sighed once more, bending towards you and resting a weighted glove on your shoulder.

“Officer, I can sense your fear”

Your wide eyes blinked back nervous tears, “I-I.. My apologies”

“I do not wish to strike fear into you, my dear. I would like you to relax”

You nodded as he stood back to his normal height. Though you could not see his face, you could feel the presence of a small smile, surely gracing it.

“Yes, My Lord”

“It would also be favorable if you lessened on the formalities”

Was he being serious?

Ever since the empire was established it was drilled into everyone’s heads that they were to be cordial to any one who held office or rank in the galactic empire. Was he trying to trick you?

But if you didn't do what he said, wouldn’t you also be disobeying-

“Stop overthinking” he said, though it didn’t have a demanding tone, it sound more like a gentle ask.

He stepped closer to you and your muscle memory kicked in; you quickly bowed before him. Once you realized what you had done you began to apologize, “I’m so sorry, My L-”

A gloved hand tilted your chin to the dark figure above you and he pulled you to your feet.

Your heart raced and embarrassingly….you felt your core pulsing too.

“What is your name?”

“F-F/N L/N, or just y/n” you answered shyly.

“y/n, that is an exquisite name. May I call you that?” he asked, a gloved hand still brushing over your chin.

You nodded and he caressed your cheek before withdrawing his hand.

“y/n, I give you my word, I will not harm you.” he explained, “I have observed you officer and have taken an interest in you and your work”

You stood there in bewilderment, all this time you thought he was after you for the thing with their troopers or that he was trying to trick you into a false sense of security, but to be here with him, especially after all of the comforting words he exchanged… you couldn't help the butterflies taking flight in your stomach.

“Now, may we return to the task at hand?”

“Yes, My L-”

He slightly turned his helmet and you retracted your statement remembering what he asked earlier; it was just force of habit.

_______________________________________

The maintenance took a few hours, but for another technician it would have taken a day; you may not be much, but you were talented in your craft.

Vader left the room to you after about an hour, but not before reminding you to keep the information discussed private (most likely referring to the fact he needed assistance- how would the galaxy react if the most feared sith was disabled in a way).

The walk back to your room was completely silent, you used so much brain power that you couldn't even muster the energy to overthink the situation; all you could think about was showering and going to bed.

Once you settled into bed, sleep washed over you and soon you were in the deep embrace of slumber; dreams filled with an all too familiar dark figure.

***

a/n: i’m actually falling waaaay back in love with original series vader… like i never left but i’m just really fucking invested rn 😩😩… i hope you guys are enjoying the story!!

taglist: @vadersassistant @sxoulohvn @khaleesihavilliard @kashasenpai @darling-murdock @beautifulbearpolice @salvatoresister1 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @blueninjablade3 @jujuba096 @missmannequin @jellydodger @mirastark @wyvernthekriger @duckyhowls @monada43 @lauriidoesstuff @vienettacream

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justacynicalromantic · 5 months ago

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🔴The rocket strike on April 11 at the Trypil thermal power plant in the Kyiv region caused huge damage to the environment of the region due to the release of pollutants into the atmosphere.

The State Ecoinspection of the Capital District reports that the fire caused an uncontrolled release of harmful substances into the atmosphere, namely:

- more than 2.5 tons of nitrogen dioxide;

- more than 6.17 thousand tons of carbon dioxide;

- more than 2.4 tons of carbon monoxide;

- more than 0.7 tons of VOCs;

- 1 ton of suspended solids.

There is soil contamination with oil products, copper and zinc. According to the inspectors' estimates, the amount of damage to the environment from this missile strike alone reaches more than $650 thousand$

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cherrysweather · 1 year ago

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Can i request phoenix wright and Ryunosuke Naruhodo having a s/o who is a famous defense lawyer known for solving nearly impossible cases?

Heeellu Anon!!

T H A N K S for making me write about DGS for the firts timee!

And about my dear Ryuuu

I will c r y

I hope you'll have a great day and have some water!

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

Phoenix Wright and Ryunosuke Naruhodo x famous defense lawyer!S/O:

Phoenix Wright:

Mia set the standards of a lawyer really high;

Yes, he did recognize talented lawyers and knew to be humble, but he never found someone as great as her;

He read in the newspapers about a new lawyer who managed to win some cases that many of his coworkers refused to take;

He did some research on her and all the cases she handled, just out of curiosity;

And noticed that each case was notably tangled in its facts;

His curiosity brought him to court to attend one of her trials and see with his eyes if what the papers said was true;

He stayed in the background for some time, but eventually the fact that both of them were lawyers brought them to work together, and ultimately together;

She also started to attend his trials, and often wanted to discuss them with him, getting close;

Whenever a paper talked about her case and her "invincibility", he bought it and just added it to his collection;

They both learned a lot from each other, and even though she "stole" Phoenix's spotlight, he was more than happy and proud to leave her to these praises;

Trucy was kind of sad when another lawyer joined the house, but she easily influenced her, too, with her passion for magic;

They were often apart, since both their services were needed almost everywhere;

She traveled more willingly abroad, while Phoenix preferred to stay in the country, mostly because of Trucy and his old age and body;

So they also learned to deal with the distance.

Ryunosuke Naruhodo:

They met when Ryu was still learning how to be a good defense lawyer;

He got close because he heard about her and her skills from the inspectors, the various papers both Susato and Sholmes bought daily and in the court itself;

Whenever he wasn't defending someone, he was in court anyway to be a witness to others' trials and learn the profession faster;

It eventually became a fair trade, she helped him with law studies, and he taught her some Japanese;

When things started to get more serious, they had to start seeing each other "in secret", since the Japanese were not yet fully accepted in England, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin in some way her career;

In court he often posed as her assistant, doing his best to understand each case and be somewhat useful for both her and his studies;

(He often loses some documents, so this task is quickly set aside);

He enjoys so much imagining the various cases and performing them, as if in a theatre, and very soon involves her in this "hobby";

She is often called to various countries to represent hers and to study new law systems, and Ryunosuke too has to go back to Japan, although much less frequently;

Each letter they send to each other in those times is jealously and preciously preserved;

And whenever they're finally reunited, travels are suspended for quite some time.

#ace attorney #ace attorney x reader #ace attorney headcanon #ace attorney headcanons #phoenix wright #phoenix wright ace attorney #phoenix wright headcanons #phoenix wright x reader #ryunosuke naruhodo #ryunosuke naruhodo x reader #ryunosuke naruhodo headcanons #the great ace attorney #tgaa #dgs

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amaureas-blog · 11 months ago

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Jedediah Shine x female reader smut

Summary: You’ve just given in the inspector's invitation to accompany him home to.. do things..

Genre: (Reader) Smut, PWP

Warnings: Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, non-negotiated choking, dirty talk

Word Count: 2,899

A/N: Just Porn. No introduction or anything we dive right into the smut. No beta. Plus, I wrote this one my phone because my notebook broke.

I shouldn't have given in so quickly to the inspector's invitation to accompany him home. But here I was now, sitting on his lap, his large hands rubbing warmth back into me, after walking here through the cold rainy breeze that was London's weather.

He had already peeled me off one layer of my clothing. Now only dressed in my under skirts and corset, I ran my hands over his chest, unbuttoning his waistcoat, while his hungry mouth was on mine, kissing me greedy.

I peeled him out of his waistcoat, before pushing off his suspenders. My fingers nervously started to fiddle with his trousers, feeling him hard as a brick underneath the fabric.

He broke the kiss, a snorted chuckle escaped his lips. “Someone's being a little impatient.”, he said, but I could tell by his smirk that he actually liked it. His large, calloused hands went under my skirt, grabbing my thighs and working their way up, before I felt two of his fingers rubbing over my cunt. “Is that little cunny so desperate for my cock?” I answer him with a moan and a quick nod.

He stroked over my hot and wet core a few times, before impaling me on two of his long fingers. I arched my back, throwing my head back, moaning again. “C’mon, girlie. Say it.”, he demanded, but I felt myself unable to form any words.

I tried to push myself more onto his fingers, to make him understand how much I needed him, but the inspector withdrew himself from me, leaving me whimpering and mourning the loss of his fingers inside me.

His hand came up to grab my chin, forcefully, to make me look at him. “I don't like repeating myself.”, he said impatiently.

I moved on his lap, desperate for some friction to ease the itching between my legs. “Please..” I feel him between my legs, hard and huge. “Please, fuck me, inspector Shine.” A hungrily glint sparkled in his eyes and his jaw worked with pleasure.

He pushed me off of him and got up with me, his hands caressing my arms, before pulling me against him, his lips kissing me roughly. My hands slid through his hair, before they rested in his neck.

The kiss didn't last long before his hands ripped open my corset, ruining it to my horror. “Who’s being impatient now, inspector?”, I teased, grinning up at him. “I hope you consider replacing it.”

“Depends on whether you will be a good girl, or not.”, he cooed, cupping my left breast and pinched my nipple between his index finger and thumb.

I hissed slightly and bit my bottom lip. “What will you have me do to prove to you I'm a good girl?”, I breathed seductively to him. His lips curled into a smirk.

“You can start by getting down on your knees, girl.” He really didn't have to tell me twice. Submissively I sank to my knees in front of him and heard him drawing a sharp breath.

I caught his gaze briefly before my eyes focused on his breeches. I could tell it was time to rid the inspector of them. I could see his incredible length apparent under the fabric. Excitedly I gasped for air before my fingers opened his fly and I found myself licking my lips.

As his cock sprung free into my hand, I was actually whimpering with excitement and felt my cunt clenching around nothing at the mere sight of it. Hell, yes. I was desperate for this cock.

“You just gonna stare at it, or are you actually going to suck me off?”, I heard him say with a dark chuckle. I was sure he took enormous pride in his remarkable manhood.

I looked up at him as I closed my hand around his shaft to gave him a few gentle strokes, before I leaned forward and closed my lips around his tip. I work my head and hand together for a while, as I work my way to fit his entire length into my mouth. His musky smell filled my nose, as I inpale my throat on his cock, my nose brushing his pubic hair and I get a low groan from him.

“That's it, girlie.”, his voice reached me, low and praising, sending a shiver down my spine. Both his hands grabbed my head now, keeping me right where he wanted me, before he started to thrust into my mouth until I gagged on him.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes and tried to breathe through my nose as best I could, while he was bruising my throat with a brutal pace. After a short time my hands came up to his waist to push him away from me so that I could gasp for air.

He growled, somewhat in disapproval, but let me catch my breath. He then grabbed my hair and pulled my head back so I was looking up to him. I gasped a little in pain. “You better learn to hold your breath while I fuck your throat.” I felt like I disappointed him, so I nodded quickly. The look he gave me told me he wanted my word on that.

“I’ll be better next time.”, my voice sounded quieter than intended, but the inspector nodded satisfied.

“Good. Now get up.” I felt like a puppet, he said something and I hopped to it. For a moment I was afraid that this might bore him in the long run.

Even though Jedediah Shine seemed like a man who didn't tolerate getting denied anything, I still believed that a little challenge here and there, a little back talk even, would certainly arouse him. Perhaps I’d try to challenge him in the future. For now I got up and rid myself of the underskirt I was still wearing.

Now totally naked and exposed for Shine’s hungry eyes, I felt my heart beating in my throat as his eyes roamed greedily over my curves. Then he peeled himself off his own shirt and trousers. I watched him impatiently and surreptitiously bit my lower lip as more and more of his body was revealed. He was so well built and my fingertips itched to explore every inch of his body.

“You look like you’re hungry for dinner.”, he said, stepping closer, before he wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me flat against him.

A whimpering moan escaped my lips, feeling his muscles against my curves and his hard cock against my belly. “Sure am hungry.”, I admitted whispering. My gaze darted back and forth between his eyes and his lips.

“Then, scoot, to bed.”, he said, placing a slight slap on my behind, before we headed to his bed, where he lay flat on his back and pulled onto his lap.

I was a bit surprised to find myself seated on top of him, since I had the feeling that Jedediah Shine was a man who loved to be in control of things. Not that I thought I had any control as he roughly grabbed me by the hips and pulled me deeper into his lap, pressing his hips against me so that I could feel him hard and throbbing against my cunt.

I bit my lip at the attempt not to moan, even if I was extremely aroused. “No need to hold back, luv.”, his deep voice whispered to me. “It's not like anyone would hear you here anyway.” To me it almost sounded like a threat and perhaps it was meant to frighten me, but honestly it just made me feel more aroused.

I rolled my hips against his and let out a lovely moan for him, my hands resting on his chest, his hands tugging on my hips.

“Come here, girlie. Sit on my face.”

I do as he commented, my cunt weeping with excitement of what was about to come. His deep voice once again sent a shiver down my spine. I move on top of him, my knees left and right of his head.

“Yes, get your pretty ass up here.”, he growled almost impatiently, bringing his large hands up to cup both my buttocks. His fingers grabbed my flesh rough, almost brutally.

Pulling me closer to his hungry mouth like that, I gasped when I first felt his hot breath caressing my inner thigh, followed by his lips on my hot and aching core.

I felt how I immediately melted against him. My head went dizzy and my legs started shaking. Closing my eyes, head leaning back, my hands rested on his forearms for support. His tongue licked down to my entrance, warm and wet and wonderful. His beard scratched tenderly between my legs.

My breathing got heavier. My breasts rose and fell and a moan escaped my lips at the wonderful work the inspector did between my legs. I started moving my hips, but Shine responded with a disapproving growl and a smack to my ass, that had me jumping slightly.

I understood that I wasn't allowed the pleasure of riding his face, not yet. So I tried to keep my hips still even as he thrusted that devilish tongue inside me. I moaned with a shiver. He hummed darkly, his hand kneading my ass as if he wanted to tear me apart. The pain along with the pleasure was indescribable.

Then another smack to my ass made me cry out, leaving my skin sore and bruised by his rough hands. “Please..”, I begged him and his lips moved to suck on my clit, his tongue circling the small bead. “Oh, yes..”

He started eating out my cunt with vigor, sending shiver after shiver through my body. Shivering hard under the bulding pleasure that spread from my arousal through my whole body I started to move my hips, having his tongue and lips right there where I needed them the most. And this time he allowed it with an approving low growl which vibrated against my clit.

I feel another gush of arousal dripping down my cunt. His pacing was perfect. I felt my chest tighten almost painfully as the pleasure was building up inside me.

It came too soon; a bodyshaking orgasm, that have me moaning, screaming even. I press my cunt firmly onto his face, his tongue overstimulating me to the point that my brain went blank for a few seconds. It was pure bliss.

I was panting heavy when my climax wore off slowly. If my ears weren't ringing so much, I might have heard the inspector gasping for air himself. When his hands released me, I slipped off him and sank onto the bed next to him.

While I was still catching my breath I felt him moving next to me. Exhausted, I blinked slightly and saw him wiping away my wetness out of his beard. And just like that he was on top of me. My body almost limp from the heavy orgasm I just had.

With expert hands he spread my legs, positioned himself between them, taking hold of the base of his cock, before he forced himself all the way inside me.

Whimpering I took him, still too exhausted from what he just did to me. I wished he had given me a bit more time to recover from the first climax. My cunt was still too sensitive and tightened around him, when he started thrusting.

My hands came up against his firm chest, and as if he needed to prove his strength, I felt him flex his muscles in a boastful manner. There was not a single soft spot about this man.

His manicing eyes were fixed on my face and my breast, that bounced with each of his mighty thrust. My hands moved into his neck for an attempt to pull him down for a kiss, which was denied. For a moment I thought I saw a small, teasing smirk on his face. A pleading whimper escaped my lips, which only seemed to amuse him even more.

“What do you want?”, he teased me like it wasn't obvious and started thrusting harder and faster inside me, which made it difficult for me to form any words, since I was moaning under pleasure.

With my eyes closed and my head leaned back into the pillow I couldn't quite tell if it was pain or pleasure that drove me insane. He pounded inside me so heavy that my inner walls were clenching around him.

Suddenly I felt his large hand around my neck. His long fingers began to choke me, bruising my skin. An almost animalistic groan escaped his throat as he increased his pace again and I thought he was going to tear me apart like a hungry animal.

At first I was aroused by his hand that was wrapped around my neck. But the arousal soon gave way to fear when I couldn't breathe anymore.

Both my hands came up to his lower arm to try to take the pressure off my throat. When I realized that this didn't help, panic spread through me. He squeezed the breath right out of me. My eyes widened and I felt tears welling up in my eyes, running down the sides of my temples.

Then I hit his chest and upper arm with the palm of my hand to make him understand that I couldn't breathe anymore. When he finally loosened his iron fist around my neck, I gasped for air that was burning in my lungs. He stopped completely and watched me catch my breath.

I blinked up at him. His predatory eyes were trained on me. His hair was slightly disheveled and a few drops of sweat beaded from his forehead.

“You fucking..”, I reached out to give him a hard slap across the face, but he caught my wrist with almost perfected ease.

He pushed both of my wrists over my head, which I acknowledged with a whimper. His whole body pressing down on mine now, his face a few inches away from mine. I braced myself to get punished for attempting to slap him, but instead his lips were brushing against mine. I wanted to deny him the kiss, I wanted to be mad at him, but instead my lips were opening to him like a flower to the sun.

His tongue slipped inside my mouth, kissing me deeply, almost as if he wished to devour me. I could still taste myself upon his lips. Suddenly all the pain was worth the outcome of this perfect kiss.

His hips rolled against mine and I shivered, whimpering inside the kiss. By now my cunt felt so sensitive and sore that I didn't know how much more I could take. The kiss lasted another moment, before he broke it.

He started moving again, thrusting slowly.

“No.. I can't..”, I wasn’t sure if I could take any more.

“Oh, yes, you can.”, he said imperiously with a long and hard thrust. “I’m not finished with you yet, girlie. And you don't want to disappoint me, do you?” His words were like a dark promise that this was only a mere foretaste and that he could get much crueler when he was to be denied what he longed for.

I wondered if this man's hunger could ever be satisfied.

“You ain't gonna tell me that this little cunny already had enough of my thick dirty cock.” His vulgar mouth made me shiver once again. I wanted to give him all of me. I wanted to completely commit myself to this devilish man.

I loved the slow rhythm with which he now moved inside me. I pressed my hip against him, moved with him. “Good girl.”, he groaned next to my ear and thrusted hard into me again. I scream in pleasure.

Wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders, my nails digging into his skin for support. It drew a hiss from him and I’m almost a bit proud since he had bruised my throat so brutally before. But in exchange his pace became faster and more relentless.

“Fuck..”, I moaned. My lips formed his name as he pushed me over the edge again, moans turned into screams, as he continued to fuck me in a brutal pace, chasing his own release.

He was grunting, his hands bruising my wrists, as he still held them above my head. Then an animalistic groan rose in his throat, as he finally reached his climax and spouted his load into me.

After a few more lazy thrusts he collapsed on me. As I felt his weight on me and his hot breath on my neck, I ran my hand through his sweat-drenched hair, breathing heavily under him. His hands let go of my wrists and I felt his fingers gently tagging up in my hair, before he looked me in the face.

As he placed a soft kiss on my lips, I was a bit surprised, even shocked, how gentle his treatments now were unlike just a few moments before, when he was fucking me like a goddamn force of nature.

I was just about to melt into the kiss, when he withdrew. “I’m still not finished with you, girlie. So don't even think about walking away from me.”

Did he not know that I'm already completely devoted to him?

#jedediah shine #jedediah shine x reader #smut #pwp #plot? what plot?#i want this man to do gross #disrespectful #unspeakable #borderline illegal things to me #ripper street #joseph mawle #smut fic

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