#SA Law Society

[maybeiwasjustjade]

Genuinely, perhaps 99% of me, believes that the only reason Condal and Hess made HOTD Aegon a r*pist/have adult Aegon’s introduction the aftermath of the SA of a maid, was because they knew that if Aegon was just a drunk and a cheat—like almost all Westerosi men—he would be too tragic of a character not to root for, and they really couldn’t have that. No, Aegon has to be the monster to Rhaenyra’s saint, because if you took away the act that made him monstrous, he’s so easy to root for, and the TB/TG divide would be significantly larger.

Cheating and visiting brothels are quite common in Westeros, with the vast majority of male characters doing one or the other or both. Drinking is even more so. Aegon would still be palatable with either or both traits because it doesn’t make him worse than Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra had three bastards with Harwin because Laenor’s gay, so it makes her affair understandable and valid. Aegon was forced to marry his own sister as a young teen, and clearly despises the whole targ-incest tradition. Why is it a crime that he doesn’t find his little sister sexually or romantically attractive???

Aegon’s basically a Greek tragedy made flesh. The eldest son conceived to be a long-awaited heir, yet simultaneously cheated out of a birthright. Born wanted yet unwanted, the heir who is not an heir. Meant to be loved, yet raised without it, with a mother’s disdain and fear as his only companion. His father stopped wanting him sometime after his second birthday (probably around the time Jacaerys was born), and his mother never wanted him anyway. His mere existence is a threat to a crown he never wanted, yet nobody cared when they placed it on his head. He wants love but no one loves him, and contrary to popular belief, that lack of love didn’t just stem from adulthood. He was a little boy once too, who very much didn’t deserve that level of apathy.

Married to his sister despite his clear disdain for his family’s incestuous tradition. Forced to father children on her at the grand old age of sixteen (and she fourteen). The only thing he ever really loved was his dragon, and the children he had. And even those he loses to tragedy, and someone else’s doing.

It’s not at all a surprise that Aegon’s defining trait is his love for Sunfyre. A ridiculously strong bond, born from years of having only each other. Moreover, a dragon is the symbol of power, which Aegon has little of. He can’t protect himself from his own family’s abuse or machinations, and unless he claims the crown everyone he loves will die. Dragons also represent freedom, and the ability to just fly away. And if there’s one thing Aegon wants more than anything in the world, it’s to run away from his family and the accursed throne.

In that, he’s not so different than a young Rhaenyra (pre-personality change anyway). Young Rhaenyra hated having to conform to societal standards. Hated having no choice but to marry, and to whom. She too wanted to fly away to freedom. There’s too many parallels between the two, even down to their ages pre-timeskip. Rhaenyra was about 18, and Aegon now is only 20. Yet Rhaenyra at 16’s only problem was whether her infant brother would replace her as heir, while Aegon’s was being forced to play house with his sister and newborn twins.

Perhaps misogyny and society would always be Rhaenyra’s greatest opponent, and the same Aegon’s ally when it comes to their claims, but it was not the only issue. Precedent declared that Aegon would be heir ahead of her, yet it was Rhaenyra’s position and honor that Viserys defied law for, even when she committed high treason against the crown thrice. She got everything; Aegon had nothing. He’s the underdog of the story, not her. So had they not made him an on screen r*pist (unlike Daemon who was off-screen one and merely an on-screen pedo and wife-killer), it would’ve been very hard for the writers to push their “Rhaenyra good, TG bad” narrative. Those two would’ve had too many parallels and foils for it to work, and they really couldn’t have that, could they.

No, Aegon has to be the villain; Rhaenyra has to be the hero. It’s a black and white war, good vs evil. That’s the story HOTD is trying to sell, and not at all the complex tragedy of a family tearing itself and its dynasty into pieces over greed and idiocy.

[avastrasposts]

Bona Dea - part 3

Plot: Stumbling through a dark town, general Marcus Acacius encounters the festival of Bona Dea. But what at first seems like just a pleasurable way to spend the night leaves a greater impression on him than he counted on. Part One Part Two

General Marcus Acacius x female reader

Warnings: Blood and violence, a brief SA, explicit smut (not the SA). No use of y/n, the reader is pretty much a blank slate if you're a Roman noble lady in 2nd century Tuscany?

Word count: 9.5k

A/N: I'm back with part three of Bona Dea! If you haven't read parts One and Two, you probably should to understand the plot. There are a few points about Roman society, especially women's role in it. In a very archaic way, daughters remained under the lawful rule of their fathers even after they married. This meant that if a father found out his daughter was unfaithful to her husband, he was allowed to kill her. There are no historical sources of this happening, but the thought alone... A few notes on the Latin. I think most of it is pretty self-explanatory but just in case: Carrisme - dearest or sweetest Letica - a vehicle, a litter used for carrying people Caligae - sandals used by Roman soldiers, studded with metal on the sole. When walking on a hard surface, they make a clattering sound Puella - young girl Vita mea - my life

After Marcus had left you, sleeping in the bed of the room he’d brought you to, you’d slumbered for a little while before waking up and making your way back to the bedroom where Alba was still sleeping. The next morning, you asked for the letica to be brought forward, and you returned to your own villa with Alba without seeing Marcus again. There were no officers around the villa at all and Alba quietly wondered if they’d all returned to the camp outside the city walls to prepare for their march to Rome. She glanced at you as she said it, but you didn’t respond, just stepping into the letica and turning away from the empty courtyard. You were torn, wanting to see Marcus, but also sure how you’d keep your composure in front of him if he came to bid you a formal farewell. There was so much left unspoken between you, so many questions you wanted answers too, but you didn’t know if you could demand them from him. He seemed to care, but the difficulty of your situation was not easily navigated. Did he think it was worth the trouble? How much were you really worth to him? The thought burrowed itself into your brain as you travelled back home in silence. 

As predicted, your husband was in a foul mood, hungover and still recovering from the bad oysters. He was also displeased with how little attention the great general Acacius had given him. Called to his room, you found him still in bed, pale and clammy as the physician prepared a draught. 

“What did the general say last night after I left?” he demanded of you, “Did you find out if he has a wife or a sister you can befriend? We need to secure an invitation to his villa in Rome!” With an impatient hand he grabbed the proffered cup and waved away the physician. 

“He has no wife as far as I know, and no sister was mentioned,” you replied, waiting patiently with your hands folded in front of you at the foot of the bed. You could feel one of Marcus’ love marks on your wrist and you prayed it wasn’t showing a bruise. The ache between your legs was already a constant reminder of the two nights you’d spent with him. 

“Well, when are they leaving? We’ll invite the officers here as soon as possible, tomorrow night,” your husband took a sip of the draught and grimaced, his hand clasping his stomach as he winced, “Fuck those oysters, I’ll find out who sold them to Acacius and have them flogged.” 

“I heard mention that the army is marching to Rome today, husband,” you said, and with a dramatic groan your husband fell back against the pillows, waving you away without a glance. 

You happily left, there was an ache in your heart too, not just your body. Marcus was on his way to Rome and he’d left a big gaping wound behind. You didn’t know if you’d ever see him again, he hadn’t left a note or a message. His feelings, which had been so clear last night when he whispered them to you, in the stark light of day were harder to hold on to. Had he meant it all? Or was he just caught up in the moment, drunk on both wine and lust? And all you could do was hope that your husband would soon travel to Rome and take you with him. There was no way of getting a message to Marcus without arousing suspicion, and how would you even word such a note? There was no circumstance under which a married woman could communicate innocently with a man outside of her family, least of all a celebrated general. It all seemed hopeless. 

If his officers noticed that their general was quieter than usual as they rode out to the camp, they didn’t mention it. He rode at the front, flanked by the standard bearer, but apart from surveying the landscape around him, a die hard habit from years in enemy territory, he was silent, deep in thought. He’d made a promise, as much to himself as to her, to see her again, to not let that night be the last. But how he was to achieve that, he hadn’t been able to solve yet. 

Titus Cassian Aurelius has served under general Acacius for nearly three decades. They’d first met long before Marcus was the celebrated general he was today. They’d come up through the ranks together, but because of his low birth, Titus would never make general. It didn’t bother him, he served as Marcus’s right hand man and made sure his orders were followed in camp when Marcus left. Marcus was the military genius, Titus made sure day to day was working, keeping the soldiers and the camp in shape. Together they were an almost perfect Roman unit. And when Marcus dismounted his horse and handed the reins to the stable slave outside the general’s tent, Titus knew immediately something was bothering his old friend. 

“General Acacius, good to have you back. The men are ready to march,” he said, following Marcus into the tent. It was almost bare, stripped and waiting for the final marching order from the army’s general. 

Marcus grunted in reply and draped his heavy cloak over a chair in the corner, the only remaining piece of furniture. With a sigh he rubbed a hand over his face, contemplating how he’d breach the topic with his most trusted advisor. Matters of the heart was not usually something they discussed, the only women they’d met in the past two years were the whores who inevitably followed the army, and the discussion had been mainly about their lack of hygiene. 

Now Marcus turned to Titus with a furrowed brow and he, in turn, raised his in question. 

“Is something the matter, Marcus?” he asked. In private, they used their first names with each other, a sign of their long and deep friendship. Marcus often felt immense gratitude for Titus, the support it was to have someone he could trust with his life at all times, and now was no exception. There was no one else he could’ve brought this up with. 

“I fear I’ve got myself in trouble while camped in the town,” he said with a wry smile, “a woman, nonetheless.” 

“A woman?” Titus looked surprised, this was not what he’d expected of their general, and he took a step closer as Marcus began to pace the tent. 

“Yes, a woman, a very special woman,” he sighed, “she takes up a great deal of space in my head, and even more in my heart and I don’t know what to do.” 

“Who is she?” 

“The wife of a local business man, a foul man, base and ignoble, and he treats her badly,” Marcus answered, clenching his fists tightly as Titus looked concerned. 

“A married woman, brother?” 

“Yes, unfortunately. Although I didn’t know it when we first met, she wasn’t with her husband and she didn’t mention him. And after I met him, I understood why.” He rolled his eyes at Titus, “He’s an oaf. Last night we hosted a dinner for the local dignitaries and he was there with her. Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, as if Venus had stepped down among mortals, but he barely spoke a word to her all night and when he did, it was only to insult her intelligence,” Marcus made a face of distaste and shook his head, “He was like a leech, trying to attach himself to anyone with more power and influence than him, and yet he had the most captivating and intelligent woman sitting next to him all night, but he gave her nothing but sour looks.” 

“Last night only? How did she get you into trouble in just one night?” 

Marcus grimaced, it wasn’t his way to brag about sexual conquests and he cleared his throat in unease as Titus waited for an answer. 

“They have an unusual way of celebrating Bona Dea in this town,” he began, “the night before last, as I left the thermae, I found the town deserted, not even the lamps had been lit. Lost in the dark, I stumbled on to her villa and was pulled inside by a group of women celebrating the night...” Marcus gave a small chuckle at the memory, “You see, Titus, any man who’s found outside on that night is free game for the women, to do whatever they want with.” 

“Whatever they want?” Titus laughed in surprise as he caught on, “You mean, anything at all?” 

“I mean anything,” Marcus confirmed, “I passed a brothel and the leno told me a story of a man being made to fuck a goat!” 

“Gods…” Titus laughed, shuddering at the thought, “Please don’t tell me you were made to fuck any animal?” 

“Thankfully, no. Someone did float the idea around, but it was passed over out of concern for the goat.” 

Titus laughed as Marcus grinned, “It was an interesting experience though. They blindfolded me as soon as I came inside, told me the rules and stripped me naked.” 

Titus eyes nearly fell out of his sockets, “Please, go on, and tell me you got to fuck some of these women?” 

“I did, I don’t want to be crass about it, but it was certainly an experience.” 

“And the woman, Venus as a mortal? Did you…?” 

“Yes, it was her house and she was in charge, when the younger girls had fallen asleep, I spent the night with her,” Marcus sank down on the chair and ran his hand through his hair, “She had a presence that drew me to her, even when I was blindfolded, the way she took charge, ordering me to touch her…” Marcus trailed off, lost in thought and Titus drew a deep breath. 

“Gods, I wish I’d joined you in town, Marcus!” he chuckled, “You had an adventure most men would only dream about.” 

“And it didn’t do me much good. Now I can’t get her out of my head and I’m at a loss about what to do!” Marcus groaned, “I tried staying away, but when she came to the dinner last night, I was nearly struck dumb. And before I knew what I was doing, I took a great risk and sought her out as she went to relieve herself. I had to know if she felt even a fraction of what I felt after our night.”

“And did she?” Titus asked, looking at Marcus with concern, he’d never seen his friend so frustrated and lost over a woman before. In fact, he’d never seen him this lost before at all. Marcus' great strength as a commander was that he never lost his way, he always knew what was needed, even if the road to get there was difficult and hard. He was never without a plan and then two or three contingency plans, mapping the road to his victory and taking every possible pitfall into consideration. But now he seemed to flounder as he talked about a woman who’d so clearly captured his heart.

“She does, how I don’t know, but she does. She told me and then she showed me with her actions. By chance, or intervention of the gods, she had to stay the night at the villa we commandeered in town. We spent the night together again, and things were said that makes me believe she feels just as deeply for me as I do for her. But how can I be with her? She’s married!” 

Marcus slumped in the chair and sighed deeply, “We march to Rome today, and then she’ll be lost to me forever and I think I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” 

Titus narrowed his eyes as Marcus rubbed a hand over his face, sighing deeply again. 

“Delay the march, I have an idea, brother,” Titus said after a few moments of silence, “You say this husband of hers is greedy and power hungry, let’s use that against him.” 

“Delay the march? We need to be in Rome in a few days, we’re expected by the emperors.” 

“I’ve planned for delays, we were due to arrive three days early if we leave today. We’ll just arrive two days early if we stay here another night, it won't make a difference.” 

Titus gave his old friend a bright smile, “Come on, I haven’t met this woman yet, but if she’s got the great Marcus Acacius on his knees, she must be truly special and that I can’t let you give up on.” 

When evening came, your husband was feeling better, but still remained in his private bedroom rather than come to the one he shared with you. Grateful for small pleasures, you still tossed and turned throughout the night. It had never been easy to be married to a man you didn’t love, but it had been convenient. As long as you could put up with his occasional visits and demands for his marital rights, you led a comfortable life and saw little of him. But now, with Marcus invading your every thought, it became impossible to feel content with the life you had. You could feel his hands on you whenever you moved, small bruises and marks littering your body from the two nights you’d spent with him, reminding you of him as the night dragged on. 

It was foolish, you didn’t know the man, not really. You’d seen him surrounded by his men and guests during one evening, spent two incredible nights in bed with him, but all that fueled your passion for him was lust. The way he made you feel when he put his mouth, his hands, on you, it drove all rational thought from your mind. Yet you felt yourself standing on the verge of throwing all you had away for him, for the opportunity to be close to him again. There was a deeper connection there, you felt certain of it. 

When morning came, you were heart broken and exhausted, picking at the food the household slaves put out. Your husband came through and nibbled on some dry bread before he called for the letica and headed out. A message had been delivered early and he was called away on business. 

Grateful to be alone, you withdrew to the gardens at the back of the villa, where the cool water of the fountain kept the air fresh. Alba hovered nearby, but she sensed your mood and stayed quiet, working diligently at her embroidery. You wandered around the garden, absentmindedly tending the late blooming flowers that still showed their colours in late December. The wilted heads were plucked off and tossed aside as your thoughts drifted to Marcus despite your best efforts to push him to the very back of your mind. Each snap of the dry stalks felt like another rejection of any hopes you had of seeing him again. 

“Domina, excuse me,” one of your servants had approached on soft feet and startled you with their deferential interruption, “General Acacius is here to see Master Lunaris but he has not yet returned so the general asked to see you instead.” 

“General Acacius?” you asked, managing at the very last moment to keep your tone neutral, “show him to the reception room, I’ll be right there.” 

The servant bowed and hurried off and you went in search of Alba. You needed her in the room with you, you could not let the servants see you alone in a room with a man, but Alba would be discreet. 

“Alba, come here, quickly!” you called to her when you spotted her on one of the low marble benches, “He’s here!” you hissed as you got close. Alba’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, she knew who you meant without needing to guess and she gasped. 

“He’s here? I thought the army left yesterday morning? Why has he come back?” 

“I don’t know, but he’s here and I need you in the room with me, and we need to make sure the servants don’t hear anything, come.” 

You smoothed your hands over your dress and then your hair. You were a tired mess after your sleepless night and with quick movements you pinched your cheeks to brighten your skin. As you stopped in the hall outside the reception room, Alba rearranged your dress and covered your hair. 

“I’ll tell the servants to leave, make sure no one comes in while he’s here,” you whispered to her and she gave you a quick nod. 

Marcus was standing in the middle of the room, studying the mosaic on one of the walls, his hands clasped behind his back. The dark fabric of his tunic strained across his wide shoulders underneath his armour, his sword belt hung low on his hip, he was dressed for travelling.

“General Acacius, what an honour to have you in our home,” you approached him with your head bowed and only glanced up when he turned to you. He bowed low in return and swept his cloak to the side. 

“I came to see your husband, but I hear he is away on business,” Marcus replied, “I have information for him, but I trust I can pass it on to you?” 

“Yes, of course, general,” you answered, hardly daring to meet his eyes as your mind reeled trying to figure out what information he might have for your husband. Marcus was fully in his official role, his voice commanding and curt, his hands still clasped behind his back as he stood straight, his eyes never wavering from you or betraying any emotion except a slight impatience at having to deal with the wife of the man he’d come to see. 

“Leave us,” you called to the two servants hovering at the edge of the room, “Alba, you stay, and pour us some wine.” 

The two household servants scurried out of the room and Alba served you both wine from the amphora that was always kept in the reception room for any visitor. You sat down on one of the sofas and Marcus sat down opposite. Alba placed the cups next to you and then retreated to the doorway of the room, close enough to see you, and stave off any accusations of being alone with a man, but far away enough for you to have a private conversation. 

“I apologise for turning up like this, without warning,” Marcus said, his voice suddenly softer, no longer bearing a stern edge as he leaned forward, his hand briefly landing on your leg, “I made up an excuse to keep the army camped here for another few days, I had to see you again.” 

“I couldn’t sleep at all last night, the very thought of you already being so far away from here…” you replied, your voice filled with emotion as you saw how warmly he smiled at you.

“You’ve truly cast a spell on me, carrisime,” he whispered, moving to sit next to you on the sofa, his hand falling to your waist, and you leaned into him, the pull of him irresistible. 

“You’re lucky my husband was called away on business, he almost never leaves the house before noon,” you mumbled as Marcus leaned his head closer, his strong nose brushing over your cheek. 

“Yes, the gods are smiling at me,” he mused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin as he captured your mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. You felt yourself melt into him, his warm hand on your waist, bringing you closer, his other hand, large and calloused on your cheek, holding you in place as he nudged your lips apart, letting his tongue find yours. With a sigh you opened your mouth and let him take as much as he wanted, all other thoughts disappearing from your mind. Marcus groaned softly into you, pulling you closer as his kiss grew more heated, his hand slipping to your hip and tugging at you to come up into his lap. 

“Marcus, not here,” you protested, putting your palms against his solid chest plate, feeling the ridges of Medusa’s hair under your fingers. 

“Your servant girl won’t say anything, will she?” he asked, glancing over at Alba who was standing in the doorway with her back to you both. 

“No, but someone else might come,” you said, shaking your head as he took your hand and stood up. 

“Come, let’s find a more secluded spot then,” he smiled, pulling you to your feet. 

“Marcus, we can’t, it’s too risky,” you replied, but he only smiled wider and made you follow him, a firm grip on your hand as he winked at Alba and checked that the coast was clear. He hurried down the hallway and quickly turned a corner. Following the familiar layout of almost all Roman villas, he led you towards the thermae, the warmer air enveloping you as he pushed the door open. 

“No one will come in here until your husband is home,” he chuckled, pulling you inside as he wrapped his arms around your waist, “only you and me, my domina.” 

“Marcus…” you protested weakly, but he grinned with an almost boyish charm, a mischievous look in his eyes as he continued to walk you into the room, stopping only when the back of your legs came up against one of the two slabs of marble used for massages. With a swift motion, he lifted you up onto the flat surface and made room for himself between your legs. 

“I needed to see you before I left, and I need to make sure you’ll come to Rome,” he mumbled, pressing wet kisses to your neck as his hands began to caress your thighs, sliding up under your stola, “Will you come to Rome once I’m back there?” 

“How, Marcus?” you asked with a breathless moan, tilting your head back to make room for him as he nipped and licked at your skin. This was too dangerous, too exposed even in the thermae, but Marcus’s hands were kneading at your hips, grabbing at your behind as he rolled his hips into yours. The evidence of his arousal was pressing into your core and you could feel your own arousal building, liquid heat beginning to fill your cunt, “I can’t go on my own, my husband would never allow it.” 

“Then I’ll invite him, make up some reason,” he replied, his calloused hand leaving your hip and sliding up along the inside of your thigh as he spread you open, “Now, tell me, will you let me feel you come on my cock one more time? Is she ready for me, domina?” 

He tugged your undergarment loose and locked eyes with you, watching your face as he softly caressed his fingers through your wet folds with a low growl. The sensation forced all other thoughts from your head, Marcus’s dark eyes, his steady gaze on you, and the tremors that rushed through your body when he brushed over the apex of your sex, it turned you liquid and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him to your lips. 

After that, it was all just Marcus, filling your senses, taking over as you yielded to him; his soft curls under your hands, the hard edges of his armour pressed against your chest, his deep rumbling voice as he mumbled against your lips. You whined in protest when he removed his hand from your wet folds, but then the thick head of his cock breached your entrance, making you keen and and moan as he filled you up, snapping his hips and driving himself deep inside your cunt. 

“Domina…” he growled, his pliant lips claiming your mouth between gasps of air and mumbled words, “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, the wine tastes like vinegar, ever since I met you…carrisime…I need you in Rome with me…” 

He was taking his time with you, his large hand warm across your back as he kept you where he needed you, his mouth never leaving yours for more than a few mumbled words as he slowly, meticulously, slid his cock in and out of your slick cunt, slowly building your orgasm with every thrust. 

A call from somewhere inside the villa made you snap your head up, turning towards the door, but Marcus’s hand found your jaw and he pulled you back to his mouth. 

“Stay with me, carrisime, let me feel you, so tight and wet for me, let me fuck you and fill you up just the way you like it.” 

He sped up a little, his hand sliding down between your legs and found your small pearl, swollen and aching for his attention. 

“Marcus,” you cried, gasping as he began circling his, sending white hot lightning bolts through your limbs, “Oh gods, Marcus…” 

You were being too loud, at the back of your mind you felt fear trickling down your spine, but Marcus edged you on, driving his thick cock through your heat, his fingers finding a rhythm that seemed to take your breath away as your head tipped back. 

“There it is, domina, such a tight little cunt for me, squeezing me so hard,” he growled, “let me hear how good I make you feel, let me fuck you like this every day for the rest of my life, make you mine, my domina.” 

His words made your mind buzz, his fingers, his cock making pleasure cloud your mind, taking over every sense. 

With a crash the door to the thermae burst open and you cried out with shock. Marcus drove himself into you again, growling loudly. In panic you scrambled to get away from him, pushing at his chest plate but it made no difference, he snapped his hips one more time, and turned his head to look at your husband.

“Wife!” Lunaris yelled from the doorway, his voice close to hysteria as you furiously pushed at Marcus, but it was like pushing a giant boulder, he wouldn’t budge. 

“Lunaris,” Marcus huffed, still looking at your husband, but his face was not the one of a man caught balls deep in another man’s wife. Instead he wore a face of triumphant satisfaction as he stilled his hips, “Come back a bit early from your business I see.” 

“Marcus,” you hissed, fear crawling up your throat, your voice breaking on the last syllable of his name. He didn’t look at you, but you felt his hand on your back begin to caress you gently, a small, calming motion with his warm hand, out of sight from Lunaris. 

Lunaris seemed to stumble into the room, and you saw Alba’s wide eyed face behind him, her mouth hanging open in shock. Lunaris was hissing, grabbing onto one of the pillars as if for support, as he glowered at Marcus, struggling to spit any words out.

Marcus gently squeezed your hip and finally pulled out, adjusting his armour, the pteruges falling back in place as he turned fully to Lunaris who still looked as if he was choking on his own tongue. Behind Marcus’s back you scrambled to adjust your stola and slide off the marble slab. You moved to leave, but his hand shot out, taking your arm and pulling you to his side. 

“You know who I am, Lunaris, and I want your wife. Divorce her, free her from this miserable marriage you’ve imprisoned her in. And if it’s her will, let her come to Rome with me.” 

Marcus's voice cut through the haze of the thermae, through Lunaris pathetic stuttering, his tone commanding and sharp. From the corner of your eye you could see his jaw tighten, his eyes simmering with barely contained contempt for your husband, who was still struggling to catch up to the events of the past minute. 

“Di-divorce her?” he sputtered out, finally finding his voice again, “I’ll have her killed, tell her father what she’s done and have her killed for the shame she’s brought upon his house! Whore!” 

The last word he yelled at you, spit flying from his mouth as he rushed forward, raising his hand to strike you, but Marcus caught his hand and shoved him away. 

“You will not touch her again,” he growled, glaring down at Lunaris, pulling himself up to his full height, “She is no longer yours to command. Divorce her and I will refrain from breaking every bone in your body.”  

The sight of the Roman general in full armour, eyes black with cold fury, seemed to pull Lunaris out of his outrage, stumbling over his feet and his back hitting the marble pillar again. 

“I have witnesses!” he yelled, “Alba, you saw it all! Guards!” Lunaris screamed the last word over his shoulder. 

You looked at Alba, her hand over mouth in shock as she met your eyes, and you shook your head, willing her to back away and not be pulled into this disaster. Your heart filled with fear when she instead stepped into the room and shook her head at Lunaris. 

“I saw nothing, I’ve only seen the domina speaking with the general, he came to the villa looking for you, dominus.” 

“Liar!” Lunaris screamed, launching himself at her just as four of the household guards rushed into the room. He pulled up short at the sight of them, and Alba scrambled out of his way, seeking shelter behind the guards. Lunaris snarled at her and turned to Marcus, pointing an accusing finger at him and opening his mouth to shout something, but Marcus beat him to it. 

“Lunaris!” he snapped, his voice commanding attention, “Think very carefully about my offer, and what I have the power to do,” his voice was a warning, as was his very rank, a general of Rome compared to a small-time business man in a provincial town, far from the power of the capital, “Consider the consequences before you make any decision.” 

Marcus gave your arm a quick squeeze of his hand before he let it go and stepped forward to Lunaris, dropping his voice to a low, dangerous register. 

“I will leave now, but I will come back for what is mine, and I warn you to not do any harm while I’m away.” 

He spun on his heel to face you, giving you a sharp bow, before he turned and strode to the door. The guards, seeing his armour and status, stepped to the side and let him leave unchallenged while Lunaris seethed, glaring at you. 

The thermae was silent while Marcus’s footsteps echoed away through the hallway and fear crept into your body at the look on Lunaris’ face. Marcus had warned him against hurting you, but you didn’t trust Lunaris, or your father. Your honour was tied to your father’s family honour, if Lunaris told your father about Marcus, he had the right to punish you, even put you to death. But he could also throw you from the family, remove your family name and doom you to a life of poverty or enslavement. You’d be worth nothing, even Marcus, with all his glory for Rome, wouldn’t be able to take you in if your father disowned you. 

“Leave us!” Lunaris finally snapped, dismissing the guards with a wave, “You too, you lying little bitch, I’ll deal with you later,” he snarled at Alba who threw you a terrified look before hurrying out of the room. 

You kept your eyes on your feet as the guards shuffled out and the door closed behind Alba. Lunaris was staring at their retreating backs before he rounded on you and grabbed your wrist, his fingers digging into your bones. You tried to pull away but he shoved you backwards, pushing you against the marble slab, still with a hard grip on your arm. 

“You fucking whore, I should’ve known, opening your legs for a general at the first chance. You and your father were always clambering for you to marry a powerful man. Your father practically threw you at me, for all the good it’s done me, no children, no business deals, just a frigid dry cunt,” he spat out, his putrid breath washing over you as he put himself in your face, the sharp marble edge digging into your back, “But now you’ve found a fucking general, that makes you wet, huh?” 

He shoved his hand down, trying to grab between your legs, and you squirmed out of his way. 

“I’ll tell Acacius!” you cried out, “If you touch me, I’ll tell him!”

“Oh, you think you have the protection of the mighty general now do you?” Lunaris snarled, “Think he’ll come running to save your virtue after you’ve let him fuck you like one of the camp whores?” He pushed his knee between your thighs, forcing you to part your legs and he grabbed your sex over the stola with a rough hand, “You’re just another warm cunt to pass his time with, he’ll forget about you once he’s back in his favourite whore house in Rome,” Lunaris grimaced in distaste and shoved you to the side, making you stumble before you caught yourself against the wall, “Pathetic woman, don’t you know he can have any woman in Rome, they’ll be throwing their youngest and most beautiful daughters at him when he returns. What’s he going to do with an old, withered up whore like you?” 

Lunaris was sneering at you as you backed up, pressing yourself against the damp mosaic wall, “I have half a mind to throw you out on the street right now,” he spat, “but he won’t get away that easily.” 

He looked at you for a few moments, you could see the cogs of his slow brain turning as he went over his options. You knew him well enough to know that Marcus’ threat had scared him, but you also knew he’d try to turn it against him somehow. You wished you could warn Marcus even though he must know Lunaris would try to get back at him.  

“Guards!” Lunaris suddenly yelled, his eyes still locked on you as the sound of clattering caligae could be heard out in the hallway. 

“Take the domina to her room and post a guard outside. She’s not allowed to leave under any circumstances.” 

Left in your room without Alba, the rest of the day and the night moved at a snail’s pace. You paced back and forth, trying to listen to the noises of the villa to decipher what was going on. Lunaris left, but when you tried to sneak from your room, the guard ordered you inside and made no secret of what measures Lunaris had told him to use. By the time you fell into an uneasy sleep, most of the night had already passed. 

The dreams that rushed in and out of your angstful mind were frightening, you tossed and twisted in your sheets as Marcus turned his back on you, time and time again as you ran after him. In your dreams he marched away from your husband’s villa without as much as a glance at you, Lunaris cackled as he shut the door behind your back. As you ran after Marcus, the army stretched out, an endless line of marching soldiers with impassive faces, filing past you as Marcus disappeared over the horizon. The soldiers kept marching through your dreams, a never ending clatter of caligae on the paving stones, and when you woke, heavy rain was falling outside, rattling the roof tiles. 

A servant had left you dinner the day before, and now they returned with breakfast. You forced yourself to eat a little and then slumped back onto your bed, waiting for whatever Lunaris would do next. You knew he was plotting and planning something and he didn’t disappoint, just before dinner he came to your room, a triumphant look on his face. 

“So, wife, it turns out your whoring might actually have done some good,” he gloated, practically prancing around your room as you stood by the bed, watching him with weary eyes, “First bit of good that cunt of yours has ever given me.” 

He grinned and rubbed his hands together, chuckling at his own joke as you winced at the way his facade had fallen. He’d never been a pleasant man, but out of fear of your father, he’d still treated you with respect, even when you didn’t give him any children. Not that you knew how his infrequent visits to your bedroom or his pitiful rubbing against you would ever produce a child. Too late for all of that now anyway. Now he was gloating, gleeful in your downfall and inwardly you cursed yourself for letting yourself give in to Marcus in such a public place. 

“I’ve been to see your ‘lover’,” he grinned even though the word came out with contempt, “told him he can puff himself up all he wants, when word gets out that he’s been fucking a married woman, no amount of glory on the battlefield will save him, the law’s the law and I’ll have half his property,” Lunaris smirked at you with a greedy look in his eyes, “I hear his villa in Rome is on the Palatine and the grandest one seen in a century.” 

“What did you do?” you asked with trepidation and Lunaris’s eyes shone with malice as he rubbed his hands. 

“He’s giving me his villa, and a hefty bag of gold as soon as he’s back in Rome, and in return, I won’t tell the Senate about him fucking a married woman and I won’t tell your father. I’ve given orders to pack up the house, we’re leaving tomorrow and the household will follow in a week.” 

You stared at Lunaris, the grin on his face flaunting his glee at what he’d blackmailed the mighty general into giving him. 

“Finally, some real status!” he crowed, “Might even try to get into the Senate with Acacius’ money, and I’ll need a new wife of course,” he smirked at you again, “something young and pretty with a wet cunt to give me sons.”

He chuckled and turned to leave the room, but changed his mind as he got to the door. 

“Do you know what the best thing about the whole deal is?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before he continued, “It’s that you won’t even get him, I’m keeping you!” Lunaris winked at you with a malicious glint in his eye, “I don’t tell the Senate, he gives me money and the villa, and I get to keep you. Because after all that, he doesn’t even want you.” 

You felt your throat close up, tightening when tears threatened to rise in your eyes as Lunaris cackled with delight, “Don’t worry, you’ll be taken care of, the new villa will need plenty of slaves.” 

And with that, Lunaris left the room, shutting the door tight. Through it you could hear his instructions to the guard to not let you leave. Frozen to the spot you squeezed your eyes shut, breathing hard through your nose as bile rose in your throat. The sharp burning jerked you into motion, with a gasp you fell to your knees and emptied the day's food into the pot, retching as it tore through your body. 

You had to stay in Lunaris’s household, Marcus had given you up, given in to your husband’s blackmail to preserve his own status and honour, and he’d given you up to protect himself without a thought at what you’d suffer for it. You’d staved off the tears for the past two days, but now they overwhelmed you, grief tore at your heart as you curled up on the bed, sobs shaking your frame at the unfairness of it all. 

You felt, and probably looked, like a husk of your former self as the carriage left the villa the next day. Your cosmetae had applied some colour to your cheeks and hollow eyes, but it couldn’t hide the reflection that looked back at you in the mirror. Eyes red rimmed from crying, your lips chapped and broken as you continued to chew on them, and most of all, the haunted look that made the slaves look away from you as you walked through the villa one final time. 

As you were still Lunaris’ wife, and no one knew what had happened between you and Marcus, you rode in Lunaris' carriage. You dug your fingernails into the palms of your hands as Lunaris continued to brag about how glorious his new life would be, the long road to Rome stretching before you. He would gloat and crow the whole way, you were sure of it. Alba sat in the seat across from you, her gaze mostly on her hands, but every now and then she’d throw a quick look at you. Her eyes were as worried as yours, but you didn’t know what fate awaited her when you got to Rome. Lunaris hadn’t said and you hadn’t had a chance to talk to her in private. 

It was a five day journey to Rome, and the wide, paved Roman road made travelling easy. The death of emperor Marcus Aurelius almost thirty years ago meant Pax Romana had ended and travel was more perilous now than before, but this close to the very heart of the empire, not much threatened those who travelled with armed guards. The clatter of the guards’ horses in front and behind the two carriages lulled you into a numb stupor as the winter bare landscape slipped past. 

On the third day you stared listlessly out through the small gap in the shutters of the carriage door, Lunaris had finally grown bored of taunting you and slipped into a slumber, his head lolling back and forth on his weedy shoulders. 

“Will General Acacius come for you when we get to Rome?” Alba whispered, glancing anxiously at Lunaris who slept lightly. 

“I don’t think we’ll ever see the general again,” you replied in a low voice without turning to look at her, “he’s given in to Lunaris’ blackmail to save his own skin.” 

“I can’t believe he’d do that, not when-”  

Her word was cut short by the loud thump of something striking the carriage door hard. You both looked up at the source of the sound and gasped as you saw a vicious looking arrowhead poking through just a mere handswidth from your head. 

“Bandits!” one of the guards roared, “form up, protect the carriages!”

Lunaris jerked awake and whipped his head around as if he could see through the carriage walls as the sounds of battle grew loud outside. You put your hands out for Alba and pulled her to your side, wrapping your arms around her as you sank down to the floor, covering both your heads with your hands. She was sobbing against you as metal hit metal and men screamed outside. It felt like it went on forever but in reality, it was over in a few minutes, someone cried out in agony and then their voice was suddenly silenced, replaced by only the sounds of footsteps outside. The door of the carriage was thrown open and a rough looking man, a vicious cut over his nose, looked in. Glancing over the three of you, he grabbed Lunaris and yanked him out. Lunaris yelled in fright, but he was helpless against the bandit who threw him onto the rough stones. 

A second man leaned in and grinned, his hand shooting out, snatching at your hair and dragging you out too. You cried out in pain and fear, tumbling through the carriage door, the rough hold on your hair making your scalp sting. The man didn’t throw you to the ground, instead he grabbed your arms and pinned them behind your back, holding you tight as you faced the rest of the bandits. There were only three, but your husband’s four guards lay dead on the road side. The two drivers had their hands over their heads, clearly not prepared to die in defending property that wasn’t their own. 

“You owe a debt to Asinius Magnus,” the first bandit told Lunaris who’d been forced to kneel on the road, his neck exposed with the bandit behind him, a long blade in his hand. “Consider it paid in full.” 

You turned your head, but you couldn’t shut out the gasp Lunaris let out as the blade sliced open his throat or the gargling of the blood rushing forth. His body made a dull thump as it fell to the ground. 

“Search both carriages, take what valuables you can find, but be quick!” the bandit’s leader called, “We leave the bodies.”

The one holding you yanked your arms, “What about the girls? Spoils of war?” 

“The older one is not to be touched,” his companion answered, “but take the other one if you want to keep your bed warm.” 

“No! Don’t touch her!” you protested, struggling against the man holding you as he began to wrestle you back towards the carriage. You could see Alba’s terrified face inside, you were determined to not let them take her.

“Run!” you yelled at her, kicking back at the man behind you, your foot miraculously connecting with his shin and he lost his balance. Alba jumped out of the carriage and ran, but the third bandit was right behind her. 

“Fucking bitch, get her!” the leader yelled as the one holding you grabbed your arm and pulled you around. His fist connected with your face and you saw stars as white hot pain shot through your head. Losing your footing, you sank to the ground, head spinning. You heard Alba cry out in fear and a voice yelled.

“Shoot!!” 

The thump of an arrow hitting its mark reached your ears, but you couldn’t lift your head to look for Alba, black dots were dancing in your vision. More voices yelled, some in fear, and again the sounds of battle erupted around you, but just as quickly died down. You could hear the clatter of rain against the roof tiles, dark clouds suddenly forming in your vision, and a warm quilt being pulled over you. The ground fell away beneath you, you were floating under your blanket, or maybe wrapped in it, as the rain clattered. 

“Carrisime, open your eyes,” the low voice demanded in a soft tone, “Come on, look at me now, wake up.” 

The voice was familiar and you could feel his hands gently patting your cheek, rousing your foggy mind.

“Vita mea, I’m here, you’re safe, just open your eyes.” 

With an herculean effort you peeled your eyes open and Marcus’ face floated into focus. 

“There you go, just look at me, carrisime,” he said, his hand stroking your cheek, “you’re safe now.” 

It took you a few more moments to realise that you weren’t floating and it wasn’t raining. Marcus was cradling you in his arms, his thick cloak wrapped around you, as the clatter of soldier’s caligae against the paving stones brought the events of the past few minutes flooding back. 

“Alba…” you croaked, trying to look for her, but Marcus tightened his arms around you.

“She’s unharmed, just a scrape on her knees when she fell over, she’s being taken care of,” he touched his fingertips gently to the part of your cheek that was throbbing, “Do you think you can ride in the carriage with me? I won’t let you out of my sight.” 

You nodded, still uncertain about what had actually happened, and Marcus gently put you on your feet, his arms keeping you steady. He gave sharp orders and the small company of soldiers were back in their saddles, as Marcus joined you and Alba in the carriage. What had happened to the body of your husband you didn’t know and you didn’t want to ask. 

Alba looked stunned and dazed, and you guessed you looked no better, but Marcus commandeered a cloak from one of his soldiers for her, and kept his own wrapped around you. When the carriage began to roll with a jerk, he tightened his hold on you and you gratefully leaned against him. Your body felt loose, your limbs all watery, and you gratefully accepted his warmth and solid frame to hold you up. He bent his head and placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and you felt his hand slowly caress your arm. 

“What happened?” Alba asked, her voice low and uncertain as she looked from you to Marcus and back again. He regarded her for a moment before he glanced down at you. 

“What I tell you can go no further than this carriage,” he said, “If anyone finds out, all our lives are in danger, understood?” 

You nodded and so did Alba, her eyes wide. 

“I’m telling you because I don’t want to start our new lives with dishonesty, but no one else can know.” 

You nodded again and Marcus gave you a small smile, “At least I hope you want to start a new life with me, carrisime?” He touched your cheek gently, “I never had an opportunity to ask you properly, your husband was more devious than I thought.” 

“I do, Marcus,” your voice barely above a whisper, reaching up to place your hand over his as he smiled down at you, “I’ve never wanted anything else so much in life.” 

“How fortunate for me,” Marcus said with a tender voice, placing another kiss to the top of your head, “then I’ll tell you.” 

He drew a deep breath and looked over at Alba again, “I’m sorry you got pulled into this too, I never meant for you to be harmed. But Lunaris guessed that you knew too, and that made him vindictive. He came to see me, and threatened to have you both killed if I didn’t promise him the riches and status he craved. I was hoping he’d divorce you and let you leave his house, free to marry again, but he was determined to have more and ruin me in the process. Had I given in to him, he would’ve held the threat over me, all of us, for the rest of our lives.” 

“You had him killed,” you breathed out, the realisation dawning on you. Why else would Marcus and his soldiers show up just after the bandits had killed Lunaris. 

“Yes, and I’m sorry, but it was his life or yours, and he was worth nothing to me,” Marcus looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, “I had no choice, but I don’t know if you can forgive me.” 

“He told me you’d given me up, that you’d given in to his blackmail and that I was to stay with him because you didn’t want me,” you said, anger rising inside you as you remembered the malicious things Lunaris had told you, the lies he’d made you believe, “He told me he’d keep me as a slave in his new villa while he got a young, new wife. Pluto can have him!” you spat out, and you felt Marcus’s arms tighten around you. 

“Hush, carissime,” he said, “calm yourself, it’s behind us.” 

“You sent the bandits?” Alba asked, “They were going to…” she trailed off as tears rose in her eyes. Marcus leaned over and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d be travelling too, please don’t cry, puella.” 

Alba dried her tears and nodded, wrapping her borrowed cloak tighter around herself and you leaned back against Marcus’s solid chest. He let go of Alba’s hand and cradled your cheek in his large palm, softly stroking his thumb over the swollen part. 

“Does it hurt, carissime?” he asked quietly and you nodded, “I’m sorry it happened, I told them to not touch you. I saw no other way out, I couldn’t kill him myself, I couldn’t let one of  my soldiers do it. So I hired the bandits to attack and kill Lunaris and any guards, I was hoping he’d travel without you. I feel like maybe I took too great a risk.”

“I was scared,” you whispered, “I thought they’d rape and kill us, or sell us,” you squeezed your eyes shut at the thought. 

“I’m sorry,” Marcus mumbled, pressing his lips to your forehead, “Forgive me, carrisime.” 

You nodded, “I do, even dying would’ve been a preferable fate to serving as a slave in Lunaris’ new household. You’ve saved my life, both our lives.”  

You both fell silent for a while, the rocking of the carriage lulling Alba to sleep, curled up under the cloak on the seat opposite. You stayed tucked under Marcus’s arm as he slowly caressed you, bending his head now and then to press a kiss to your head. 

After a few miles had been covered you stirred and looked up at him. 

“You let Lunaris catch us in the thermae, why?” 

“I know his type, he never would have agreed to divorce you, especially not for a man so much more powerful than him. So I needed to let him catch us in the act so that I could scare him, threaten him into giving you up,” Marcus shook his head as he seemed to think through the events of the past few days, “But I misjudged him, he really was stupid enough to think he could blackmail me. Even if I’d given in to his blackmail, did he think no one would ask any questions when I handed over my villa to him? Or when he tried to buy his way into the Senate? I’m sorry I had to have him killed, but I’m not sorry to see him gone,” Marcus shrugged and adjusted his arm around you, making you lean your head against his shoulder, “Sleep, carrisime, I’ve arranged for us to stay at an inn tonight, but we have many more miles to travel first.” 

Sleep didn’t come easy, even though you closed your eyes and tried to let the carriage’s rumbling motions lull you. You understood why Marcus had done what he’d done, his logic was solid. Kill Lunaris or lose you and everything in his life. And Lunaris was nothing to him, just an annoying, vindictive little man, it didn’t matter to Marcus if he died. But still you felt like you’d seen a new side of him, the ruthless Roman general, the man who had led armies to great victories because he was just that ruthless. 

You knew, rationally, that Marcus had killed many men, and had even more men killed. Both enemy soldiers and civilians, but also his own soldiers, as he sent them into battle. It was the nature of his profession. But now he’d done it to get his way, to get you, not as part of a war. He’d saved you, both from a boring marriage when he first turned up, and from Lunaris’ spiteful revenge on you after your infidelity. But your actions, both yours and Marcus’, had led to men dying. Your intense feelings for Marcus, the need you had to be near him, ultimately had cost the lives of your husband, stupid as he was for blackmailing a Roman general. But it had also cost the lives of four guards and three bandits. Eight men dead. All because you and Marcus wanted to be together. 

The thought reeled around your head. Eight new men with Pluto tonight because a Roman general had stumbled into your house on Bona Dea. Was this the will of the gods? Or would you be punished? A shiver ran through you, and Marcus bent down, brushing his lips over your cheek. 

“Vita mea, tell me your thoughts,” he mumbled. 

“I’m…grateful you saved me, and Alba,” you whispered, tilting your head back to meet his dark yes, “But I’m worried we’ve angered the gods through our actions. So many men killed because of you and me.”

“I would never presume to know the will of the gods,” he replied, keeping his voice low, “but I know Mars steers my hand in battle and he hasn’t failed me yet, not even today. But we’ll make sacrifices to the gods when we return to Rome, show them our gratitude for bringing us together and keeping you and Alba safe. I don’t believe Juno would want either of you trapped with that vicious man.” 

He bent his head low and tenderly kissed your lips, his warm hand cupping your cheek, “And I know Bona Dea guided my steps when she first led me to your villa, we will give special thanks to her too. Now sleep, amor, I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Part 4 Tagging some lovely people who showered the first two parts with love: @gothcsz @missladym1981 @txlady37 @timelordfreya @bluesweaters15

@indiegirlunited @jessthebaker @likeficinthewnd @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @inept-the-magnificent

@angiewatson @wintersquirrel @sheepdogchick3 @asobeeee @harriedandharassed @cozylittlepigeon

@i-own-loki @pedrit0-pascalit0

[kitasgloves]

Every Breath You Take

tracklist

— ♬ "Every move you make, every step you take, I'll be watching you"

— ♬ Jouno Saigiku x Reader, SFW, gender-neutral reader, depictions of stalking, obsessive behavior, SA, and assault, 3.4k words, no beta

— ♬ NOTE: I DO NOT CONDONE NOR ROMANTISIZE WHAT IS DEPICTED IN THIS STORY. EVERYTHING IS A WORK OF FICTION. READER'S DESCRETION IS ADVISED.

Despite his composed demeanor, Jouno Saigiku held a fierce temper. Jouno has mastered perfecting his mask to conceal his true emotions. He was calculative and strict with his job as a Hunting Dog. In his perception, holding the title of a Hunting Dog means the authority of justice over everything else. Justice reigns all and is supreme. As a Hunting Dog, you must ensure that justice prevails, one way or another.

Jouno knew that being a Hunting Dog doesn't mean you're supposed to be a goody-two-shoes. Hunting Dogs were the most flawed organization keepers of justice. In other words, corrupt. He accepted that long ago when he took this job. He was the prime example of public evil. No matter how many criminals he torments, he knows society will only give him praise and success for it. And for that, Jouno believed he was the best amongst the Hunting Dogs, not that there was a competition. It was only for his ego to believe he was the best.

He had no comment when it comes to his methods on ensuring justice as a Hunting Dog. Admittedly, he enjoys tormenting criminals and civilians alike to get his way in enforcing justice in society. A sadistic side within him revels with pleasure at the despair of others. He does not care if he comes across as cruel if it's necessary to his occupation. And he did find pride in his job as a Hunting Dog, he did get along with the rest of the Hunting Dogs, and even the leader. He does his job strictly and he has nothing to worry.

Jouno lived a solitary life and did only what he thinks is fit. There are instances where he makes attempts to get along with other members of society but only results in failure. It's either they irk him, or he makes them frightened. It's probably because of his superhuman capabilities required as a Hunting Dog. Jouno possessed an impressive sense of perceptiveness that filled in for his blindness. He had an accurate sense of touch, smell, hearing, and even taste. He can hear heartbeats clear as day and sense emotions without even seeing a person's face. That paired with his intimidating behavior wasn't favorable to some.

It's logical to accept that he can't please everybody, and he won't break his back trying to win someone's favor. If Jouno was disliked, so be it. If he was hated, he didn't care. If he was a second option or the last choice, he'd just smile it off and walk away. It was ideal to not lead a life to be someone he's not to be accepted. He recalled all the people he had saved before in his job. He was praised and admired for it. As he would put it, Fukuchi Ochi made the mistake of teaching him the joy of protecting someone.

Although Jouno has cruel tactics and enjoys the anguish of others, he has learned to long for the joy of being a protector of society. To think people, depend on him for protection strokes his ego. He must do whatever is necessary for the safety of all, even if it means hurting or cornering others and hearing the sounds of their destruction, he'll do it in the name of the law.

Now, Jouno was not new to civilians who despised the law, who thought the government was exploiting them, and thought the system was rigged. He'd scoffed and thought how incredibly stupid those people were. For the most part, those types of people were deranged, and careless, and enjoyed protesting and demanding their 'rights'. Jouno never paid them no mind and sometimes enjoyed laughing at their foolishness. Until he has encountered you.

You were caught up in a conflict when a mentally unwell man decided to make a bomb threat at a public establishment. Naturally, people were horrified and tried to contact the police. Jouno was notified to take care of the situation. It was effortless, he has captured the man and reassured everyone. He did his usual fashion of ridiculing and tormenting the perceived criminal before making an official arrest. You witnessed everything with an unamused brow. Jouno could sense your annoyance when you looked at him.

"You're torturing a clearly mentally challenged man for the bomb threat instead of arresting him peacefully. God, you law enforcement have no regard for a person's well-being"

You have genuinely surprised Jouno with your remark that he stopped dead on his tracks. He turns around and realizes that there wasn't an ounce of regret for your statement. His smile twitches as he marches over to you, prepared to put you in your place. But he notices how you stood unshaken by his presence as you crossed your arms.

"What? Are you going to arrest me too? Oh please, that's all you guys ever do. You 'punish' people who have the right to say whatever they like"

Jouno furrowed his eyebrows when he hears you scoff, he was thinking of his brutal rebuttal, but you continued.

"If you're going to say what I said isn't true, but why do you seem affected?"

He can feel your smirk, and his heart skips a beat. He has never encountered someone as cheeky and confident as you, ready to stand up against a powerful figure like himself. Jouno clenched his fists as if he's about to hit you, but he holds himself back as he gives you a tight smile.

"Be careful what you say next time or it's not going to end well for you"

You laughed and rolled your eyes before strolling away. Jouno gritted his teeth and tried to calm his nerves. People like you have never learned the consequences of their actions, and he would love to teach you a lesson. Jouno keeps you in mind as he takes care of the remainder of his work. He decided to keep a tab on you. Given his position and capabilities, it wasn't difficult to find out who you were.

As suspected, you were a civilian. A decent member of the society who happened to be aware of the affairs involving the government. Jouno found records about you being an outstanding citizen. Oh please, you've got to have some sort of filth on you that he can exploit. Searching deeper, he unexpectedly falls into a rabbit hole. He collected information about your family, education, and job. He has found where you live and the places you frequent. He made copies of your important documents listed in the government such as your birth certificate and others. Jouno needed incriminating details about you, so he decided to follow you around disguised out of his uniform.

He followed you to work where you performed your job diligently, you got along with your co-workers and was well-liked by your superiors. On your day off, you would stroll around the city and even helping a few people along the way. Like helping an old lady crossing the street or getting a ball stuck on a tree for a group of children. Jouno grimaced at your benevolent exterior, you were too kind that it seems natural. He's convinced that the nicer you were, the more dirt you were hiding.

However, Jouno was only met with disappointment. He has followed you everywhere even to your home and he hasn't found anything to incriminate you with. Sure, there was an option to fabricate evidence to destroy you, but the idea leaves a bad taste on his tongue. He wanted something raw that would bring you to your knees and beg him for mercy. As ironic as it was, you were a law-abiding citizen despite your distaste for the government. Jouno found your criminal record free of filth, this further fueled his frustration.

For the rest of his days, you occupied Jouno's thoughts. They were filled with contempt and interest that it was puzzling to describe it. You looked upon others with kindness and yet you reserved detest for him. There must be a reason for it and he's eager to find it. Jouno continues to follow you until you have accidentally bumped against him in public. His breath hitched at the moment, afraid that you'd recognize him. You staggered back as he reaches out to keep you from falling ungracefully on the concrete. You regained your balance and awkwardly laughed at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't see where I was looking. Are you okay, sir?"

You apologized to him, and he was momentarily taken aback. Jouno realizes that he is still disguised in casual clothes as he gives you a tiny smile.

".... It's okay. I'm good, thank you"

"Okay, have a good day, sir!"

You wished him well as you crossed the street. Jouno was left perplexed. He has experienced a sweet side of you, and he didn't know what to think of it. You probably only treated him differently because he was out of uniform. However, he can't cease his racing heartbeat. He imprinted your kind voice in his memory and the pattern of your heartbeat. You held no contempt in that interaction that it seems so unbelievable. This only encouraged him to follow you even more.

He gathered more things about you regarding your personality and habits. Jouno took note of your favorite flavors, your preferred piece of music, what type of jokes make you laugh, and your pet peeves. He knows about your guilty pleasures, your strange interests, and your fascinating ideals. What initially began as a quest for revenge evolved into unexplainable attraction.

It seemed as though his dislike for you dissipated the longer he observed you from afar. Jouno has learned to memorize your scent, your heartbeat, and your voice so that he can instantly recognize you within a crowd by instinct. He has kept multiple tabs on you. And he begins to slowly slack off on his job as a Hunting Dog. Nothing seems to interest him more but you.

Jouno has followed you to a point in your life where you went on blind dates, he took it as an advantage to figure out what was your type. Although nobody was successful in gaining your romantic interest, Jouno has learned something new about you: he wasn't your ideal lover. Not one bit. No matter how handsome, intelligent, or strong he was, you weren't going to fall for someone like him. He should've seen this coming and yet he's standing here with an ache in his chest.

Why the hell did it matter if he wasn't your type? Unless... oh god. Jouno took a step back and gulped. Was he seriously seeking a romantic relationship with you? That's fucking pathetic! He laughs. He laughs and he laughs. After the laughter, he's stuck to wonder, has he seriously developed feelings for you? No, it can't be. You hated him! It should be enough to stop pursuing you. However, Jouno finds himself unable to stop.

Every breath you take. And every move you make. Every bond you break, every step you take, he'll be watching you. Every single day. Every word you say. Every game you play, every night you stay, he'll be watching you.

Jouno couldn't fathom how you've captured his interest. Jouno could hurt you, make you cry, and you'd wish him dead. And it didn't draw him away. He would stay close with excitement in his spirit. He wanted to have you; it didn't matter if you hated him. He can be the only one who will tolerate you and he had already known so much about you.

Oh, can't you see? You belong to him. How his poor heart aches with every step you take. Every move you make. Every vow you break. Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, he'll be watching you.

Unfortunately, Jouno becomes inevitably busy with his duties as a Hunting Dog. With the new case involving the Armed Detective Agency, he needed to focus on his priorities. He hesitated but ultimately decided to stop following you. He thought it was for the best so he could diligently get back to his work without distractions. Oh god, he was wrong. Because you seem to plague his mind more now that he ceased pursuing you.

Each moment, no matter what he did, Jouno's mind trails back to you. He kept thinking about your adorable mannerisms and sweet voice. How are you? Did you water your plants? He hoped you were because he used to water them for you when you were too busy. He hopes your work wasn't stressing you out and that you'll resort to stress eating, he'll have to get rid of the unhealthy snacks in your cupboards soon. Have you folded your laundry yet? He remembers how piled up it was the last time he snuck into your home. He hopes you don't notice your missing t-shirt. And the missing pillow from your bed. Or the missing pair of used underwear.

Jouno sighs as he rests his chin on the palm of his hand. His finger kept tracing the photograph of you that he printed. He smiles to himself as he makes out your features in his mind. The curve of your face, the shape of your eyes, the bridge of your nose, the plush of your lips, and the texture of your hair. Fuck, you looked so pretty. He wished he could see you even for a quick second despite his blindness. He wished he could feel the touch of your skin, bathe in the warmth of your body, or drown himself in your scent. Jouno feels restless while yearning.

Since you've gone, he's been lost without a trace. He dreams at night, and he can only see your face. He looks around and it's you he can't replace. He feels so cold, and he longs for your embrace. Jouno can't help but keep crying.

[Name], [Name], please

Can't you see? You belong to him. How his poor heart breaks, with every step you take. Every move you make. And every vow you break. Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, he'll be watching you.

You were experiencing a weird phenomenon. First, it began at home. You thought you were misplacing things around your home but then some of your personal items started to go missing. You were dumbfounded to find your plants watered but the snacks in your cupboard gone. Secondly, you feel like you're being watched. It makes you shudder out of nowhere especially when you're all by yourself. When you're traveling to work you feel like you're being followed, and it's the same after your shift. You made sure to double-check your locks before you went to sleep every night, but it doesn't get rid of the feeling.

Jouno thinks he can never go back. He can't reverse whatever he has done. The moment there was a window of opportunity to get off work early, he took it without any second thought. It was so unlike him, to think irrationally. Without even changing out of his uniform, he sneaks into your home effortlessly. It was the dead of night when he found you asleep in your bed. Jouno can hear your steady heartbeat and breathing and it brings relief to his senses.

Your eyes fluttered open as you felt the mattress dip from behind you. Suddenly, your body turns cold. Your eyes go wide as your throat goes dry. You went still lying on your side as you felt something shuffling under the sheets from behind you. This must be some sort of dream, or nightmare! Someone was crawling into bed with you! And they're shuffling closer, and closer, and closer. Sheer terror grips your heart when you feel a pair of hands envelope your figure from behind.

Jouno senses your fear with ease, and it brings a wicked smile to his features. His hands shamelessly traced the shape of your body before resting them right below your breast. He presses his torso against your back as he pulls your rigid body close. He takes a sniff of your washed hair, and he moans in satisfaction.

"I know you're awake, dear"

He speaks. You were beyond petrified to answer. Your lip wobbles as you mind scrambles around trying to think of an escape plan.

"How cute. You were quick to speak in our first encounter but now you're quiet as mouse"

Jouno chuckles. He feels you shivering in his hold and it only makes him pull you closer. As your eyes turn wet, you swallow anxiously.

"Wh—Who are you?"

He doesn't answer and instead starts to place kisses along your neckline making you shudder in horror and disgust. Jouno has longed for this, and he deserves to have a taste of you.

"Please st—stop! No! Please—"

You frantically start peeling yourself away from his strong embrace as he continues to plant wet kisses on your exposed skin. You groaned as you tore yourself away from Jouno making him frown. The darkness of your room made it hard to see his face, the moonlight from your window provided a faint outline of him. You scowled at him and forcefully tried to shove him off the bed, he clicked his tongue as he swiftly grabbed your arms.

"Stop that or you'll regret it"

"No! Let me go! What the hell do you want from me?!"

Jouno feels you struggle against him in your bed. He growls as he keeps you in place by crawling on top of you. The sound of you whining and groaning fills the room.

"Keep still!

"No! Get away from me!"

You screamed but you were silenced when he smacks you across the cheek with the back of his hand. Jouno sighs as he hears you whimper afterward. You start to hiccup as he senses your stuttering breath.

"Please, don't kill me..."

You pleaded. Usually, the sound of tears brought him joy. However, your crying made his chest constrict. He contemplates for a moment with your sobbing echoing in the room. You gasped and sighed in relief when Jouno releases his hold on you. His hand reaches to caress your cheek.

"I won't kill you, unless you decide to test me, darling. Try reporting this to the authorities and I would guarantee you that nobody would believe you"

Jouno threatened and you nodded vigorously through tears. He smiles at your submission, and he presses a kiss on your forehead.

"If you try anything funny, I will have to reprimand you. I'll be watching you"

Your tears blurred your vision as your immense fear made you unable to fight back or recognize the stranger who seemed to have some sort of sick obsession of you.

"Every move you make, every step you take, I'll be watching you"

I'll be watching you

His voice filled your heart with pure dread. He must be the one who's been following you around! God, you feel sick. To imagine him stalking you and watching your every move solidifies the terror that you will be experiencing for the rest of your days. He chuckles cruelly at your fear-stricken face.

I'll be watching you

Every breath you make, every move you make, every bond you break, every step you take, Jouno will be watching you. His blindness won't hinder him from following you around and finding out what you will be doing.

I'll be watching you

You feel him step back and get off the bed. You sniffed as you watch him ominously walk out of your bedroom door with that horrifying grin on his dark face.

I'll be watching you

Every game you play, every night you stay, Jouno will be watching you. Even as he leaves you tonight, petrified beyond belief, he will make sure to never leave permanently in the future.

I'll be watching you

You couldn't catch up to your breath as you heart raced. All you could think about is his horrifying voice, leaving you helpless with fear knowing this might not be the last encounter with him.

I'll be watching you

Jouno will hold his word. He shall forever torment you this way for being tormented by the fact that you'll fall for him. If he can't get you to love him, then he'll make you fear him. That way, you'll be thinking of him always.

I'll be watching you

Every single day, every word you say, every game you play, every night you stay, he'll be watching you. And you are unable to reach out for help because he will kill you. Struggling to breathe within the sheets, you sobbed uncontrollably at the fact that you'll never be free from him.

I'll be watching you

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[numbersandstars]

Shatabhisha - The Thousand Healing Mysteries

Degrees: 6°40 Aquarius to 20°00 Aquarius Deities: Varuna, the God of rain and the cosmic law. Vimshottari Lord: Rahu (North Node of the Moon) Sounds: गो go, सा sa, सी si, सू su The core meaning: Life is a circle, so is Shatabhisha's symbol. Your vision of life and society does not match the conventional triangular hierarchy system. Your insight is deep and you expose the hidden ugly truth. You are made to go beyond the surface and discover new possibilities. How can you be accepted then? You end up finding refuge in nature because that is where you will find all your answers. You are made to bring a new healing approach to yourself and others: you are a healer. Forget about fitting into boring standards, unearth the secrets of nature and you will perform miracles. Qualities: insightful, firm, steady, ethical, independent, bold, original, intuitive. Affliction: obsessive, depression, secretive, unstable, argumentative, lonely. Interest in medicine, the occult, astronomy, science, technology.

[whencyclopedia]

A Roman Boy's Rite of Passage

A Roman boy's rite of passage, a ceremony or ritual marking a transitional period in life from childhood to adulthood, was the assuming of the toga virilis, the adult toga. The ceremony usually took place sometime between the boy's 14th and 17th birthday; the decision was made by the boy's father or guardian.

Young Marcus Aurelius

Ramon van Opdorp (CC BY-NC-SA)

The ceremony is referenced widely across historical writings, biographies, letters, and speeches, however, the ancient primary sources available to us do not provide too many details. There is in general a scarcity of ancient material written about children, and we certainly have more information regarding the lives of the middle-class and elite families than we do of the lower classes, and a boy's rite of passage is no exception.

Timing

A boy's rite of passage would have corresponded with puberty, a time defined by some ancients as a period of 'ferocitas', that is, impetuosity or restlessness. The physical transition from a boy to a young man was marked by several features including the 'breaking' of his voice, which was known as 'gallulascere' (crowing), and by the growth of facial hair. At 14, a young boy may have had the first growth of a beard; this first growth was associated with adolescence and visually marked out the young boy from the adult male. This growth was allowed to become a full beard and was not shaved off until the boy was in his late teens to early twenties. When finally the shaving of the beard occurred, it was seen as the end of the wayward youth and a progression into a more adult life. The shaving of the beard could sometimes be carried out at a public festival known as the Iuvenali; at this festival, the young man's beard was dedicated to a god of his own choosing and kept in a small box in the sanctuary of the family's household gods.

A boy in his early teens was still under the supervision of his pedagogue, who would also have accompanied him outside of the home. Roman education for a youth from the affluent or elite society, would have included rhetorics, oratory, law, politics, astronomy, geography, law, literature, philosophy, and mythology. Some boys may have been considering leaving home to advance their education; there were Roman students in Athens and the other intellectual centres of the Eastern Mediteraneann. In many cases, they would have been accompanied abroad by their pedagogue.

By the time Roman boys had reached the age of 14, many fathers would have already been taking their sons to observe life in the Roman Forum, they would have attended public meetings and the Roman law courts, and sons would have been introduced to their father's friends and business acquaintances. The foundation for a boy's transition into adulthood and what it might entail was being laid. Young boys would have been under patria potestas and would have remained under the power of their fathers until their father's death; no coming of age or rite of passage liberated sons from this position.

Nevertheless, the ceremony of assuming the toga virilis was a defining moment in a boy's life. The decision of what age a boy was ready for the rite of passage and to be enrolled as a citizen was taken by his father or guardian, but the ceremony tended to happen between a boy's 14th and 17th birthday. The statesman, Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BCE), marked his coming of age at 16, his son Marcus at this age, too, while the first Roman emperor Augustus (l. 63 BCE to 14 CE), as a young Octavian was just 15 years old, and Emperor Marcus Aurelius (l. 121-180 CE) assumed his toga at 16. A popular day chosen for this significant event in the life of the boy and his family was the 17th of March, at the festival of Liber, although other dates were equally acceptable.

Continue reading...

[tocomplainfriend]

It does affect reality

TW: Rape, SA, coercion (a bit of graphic talk sorry!)

This is why you need to be careful around topics of SA/r-pe cause you enable people like this or spread these ideas:

Coercion is r-pe. Holding someone's livelihood, money, house, job or life to have sex is absolutely disgusting. Someone using their position of power to get sexual interactions out of someone that wouldn't do that otherwise is terrible. Prostitution is not coercion unless someone forced you into it, by holding things over your head. "If you don't have sex with me, I'm going to make fire you" people belittle that because they think everyone can just magically get a work and getting coerced into that is normal.

Imagine a mom getting their monetary existence and stability destroyed cause a random man wanted to have sex with her, but she didn't want to, so he will fire her. "Do you let law force your opinions, or are you capable of thinking your self?" I think: If people can't have sex without holding something important over someone's head, they can fuck off. The laws around coercion and r-pe are really difficult. No, I do not shape opinions around the law cause there are laws that accept the killing of queer, POC people for example. But go fucking figure, holding things over people to make them fuck you is disgusting and pathetic, fuck you.

Instead of hearing a story of a victim of SA/r-pe/abuse and understanding the pain, and tactic of manipulation- people try REAL hard to debate in favor of r-pist's rights (mainly cause their cartoon character they find hot is an r-pist, and others don't like the r-pist character).

The level of dehumanization of r-pe VICTIMS is massive, people trying so hard to argue in r-pists favor is crazy to me. "You are dehumanizing r-pist" r-pist dehumanize the victims they r-pe. You can't brush that experience off, it's world breaking, it's painful. I see no point why YOUR main topic of conversation is people who are as awful and selfish as to feel entitle to force someone to give them sexual pleasure +feeling pleasure of someone who's black out- or someone screaming no. How are you so critical about "R-pist should be respected!" over talking the issues victims face? In media or real life.

Shut the fuck up- that astronomical stupid connection are you doing in your small brain- to associate r-pist to POC people? Racism maybe? R-pist violated a human being, a POC person is a person that's different color and characteristics. If you think like this- remake your entire existence in society.

[genericpuff]

The trial arc was such a waste 😔

We have an entire play (the Oresteia) detailing how a quest for revenge lead to Athena helping create the modern judicial system.

We could have had Athena and the Furies act as judge and attorneys and it would have been a great moment for Persephone to see that people she looked up to (Athena) were against her and maybe made her think.

But no. 😒

Also talking about the furies… Persephone cosplaying as one just to go grrrr and make Hades horny its just soooo telling.

RS hear about furies and instead of thinking of a trio of vengeful/feared/thematically impactful godesses. She just assumed fury was a title and that any creature could have and ofc it all just means you can get to cosplay as a dominatrix to make your creepy 40 yo boyfriend horny.

Literally all this, it's so bizarre that Rachel is working with source material that's STILL REFERENCED TODAY when discussing the creation of our modern tenets of society (law, philosophy, science, etc.) and then NEVER USES IT. Why isn't Athena the one running the show in the trial arc? Why are the Furies only used ONCE during the tabloid arc (and so the plot can lift up Persephone for being "so much better" than Megaera because she "got" Hades and then showed sympathy for Meg's unrequited crush??) and then never again? IF THE FATES WERE WILLING TO GIVE HADES THE TAPE OF PERSEPHONE'S MEMORIES WITHOUT HER CONSENT, WHY WEREN'T THEY UTILIZED MORE FOR THE TRIAL ARC OR THE SA ARC TO PROVE PERSEPHONE'S INNOCENCE???

All of the "Greek" in this comic is so shallow it can't even be used consistently EVEN WHEN IT MAKES SENSE TO DO SO IN THE PLOT- 😭

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Semifinals

Propaganda why Clary Frey/Fairchild is insufferable:

"Here we go again: She found out she was part of a race that opresses pretty much every magical being ever and immediately jumped onto being as racist as people that were raised in that cultist lifestyle. She calls a man ""Warlock"" the way people say slurs.

Terrible friend. Poor Simon never gets a break. And she's an even worse girlfriend to him. He is understandably upset when he finds out the person she most wants to kiss isn't him and asks for some space, but no, not on her fucking watch. She won't stay away from his place all of a sudden. Despite never really having time for him prior.

Goes up to a closeted gay man and tells him all smugly she knows about his sexuality and acts like he's the problem for not owning it. He lives in a homophobic society where violent punishment and exile is normal.

Speaking of exile, almost gets a woman that was nice to her exiled so she can break the law.

Demands aforementioned warlock do necromancy and when he tells her about his trauma, she throws a tantrum. She never apologises. That and, she and her friend always go to him for their problems, and are never grateful when he helps.

Has the ability to wish for one thing only once ever, wishes for a shitty man to come back to life.

The incest thing. She wanted to fuck a man while thinking they were fully biologically related. Yeah. And technically they're still adoptive siblings. True love.

Her cringe evil arc.

Apparently she's worse in the books. Great to hear."

"I don’t remember much from the books but she was kind of annoying"

"She finds out about a magical world she's been unaware of her whole life and it takes her five seconds to jump onto the fantasy racism train. Constantly demands people do dangerous stuff for her. Causes so many problems and when someone points out that she's going to hurt someone they're treated like they're an asshole. Walks up to a closeted man like "I know what you are". Is a terrible friend to her childhood 'bestie'. Falls in love with her brother, one the worst men alive."

"Worst case of Main Character Syndrome you'll ever see."

Propaganda why Jimmy is insufferable:

"The most chillingly real depiction of one of those men that think the world owes them everything. He's a rapist, a misogynist, abelist, self-centered, abusive, terrible friend and person that gets everyone killed because he was big mad about being laid off. It shocks me that there are apparently people out there that play the game and like him. He's so evil, but never in a way that makes him cartoonish, and that makes him all the more terrible. The game lays it out itself: he won't take responsibility for anything. He is never the villain in his own eyes. Scumbag."

"Tbh he's not just insufferable. He's disgusting. I can't even list all the horrible things he did because they would need multiple trigger warnings. He thinks that he's so high and mighty to the point where he betrays his own captain so that he can take his place, and then blames his actions and the ship crashing on said captain, who was actually trying to save them. So all of the crew died in one way or another (because of Jimmy's actions) thinking that their captain betrayed them when really if was him. And a quick Google search can tell you all the really nasty shit that he did. So not only is he insufferable, he's also just a horrible human being."

"Listen, I'm not even in the fandom and I know what his ass did. Screw this guy"

"Bro never takes responsibility for anything he did. Assuming he even acknowledges it *vaguely motions at what he did to Anya*"

"SA, causing a ship to crash, murder and elongating his friend's suffering in a cryopod for 20 years"

"He's literally the worst. He's a rapist, he framed his friend for attempted murder-suicide after getting him mutilated, and he either directly or indirectly killed everyone else. He's such an unreliable narrator that it's difficult to tell how the others of the Tulpar crew actually are because he sees everyone as beneath him."

"rape, murder, just generally being an asshole"

"LITERALLY A RAPIST"

[ncisfranchise-source]

Several new actors are joining Cote de Pablo and Michael Weatherly in the upcoming Paramount+ series NCIS: Tony & Ziva, which has officially begun production in Budapest. 

In addition to de Pablo and Weatherly starring in the titular roles, the new series regulars joining the CBS Studios drama are:

Isla Gie (Foundation) as Tali: Tony and Ziva’s precocious 12-year-old daughter who is sick of being treated like a child. She’s more intuitive and vigilant than the adults around her give her credit for and she’s ready to prove this to them.

Amita Suman (Shadow and Bone) as Claudette: The Chief Technical Officer at Tony’s private security company and the only reason the place runs as smoothly as it does. There’s no problem Claudette can’t solve or code she can’t crack.

Maximilian Osinski (Ted Lasso) as Boris: A Russian ex-pat and a brilliant computer hacker, one of the best and most elusive in the world. Boris lives outside the law and polite society and enjoys the anonymity and freedom that affords.

Nassima Benchicou (Emily in Paris) as Martine: A former French intelligence agent with the Directorate-General for External Security (DGSE). She is elegant and cunning, playing both sides of any conflict masterfully to protect her own self-interest.

Julian Ovenden (Bridgerton) as Jonah: A former computer programmer for the NSA and now the Secretary General of Interpol. Charming, decisive and confident, Jonah sees the ways in which the world is broken and knows he can fix it.

Terence Maynard (Coronation Street) as Dr. Lang: A deeply experienced therapist, gentle and probing, Dr. Lang treats patients with severe traumas and helps them find comfort and agency.

Lara Rossi (The Watch) as Sophie: A highly skilled professional with a background in the Special Air Service (SAS), Sophie brings a unique blend of maternal warmth and hyper-vigilance to her role as a caretaker for Tali.

James D’Arcy (Agent Carter) as Henry: A high-ranking official at Interpol, Henry has spent his career in law enforcement chasing international criminals. Career-focused with no wife or family of his own, Henry has always been happily married to his job.

NCIS: Tony & Ziva picks up after Ziva’s supposed death when Tony left the NCIS team to go raise their daughter. Years later, Ziva was discovered alive, leading her to complete one final mission with NCIS before she was reunited with Tony and their daughter in Paris. Since then, Tony and Ziva have been raising their daughter, Tali, together. When Tony’s security company is attacked, they must go on the run across Europe, try to figure out who is after them and maybe even learn to trust each other again so they can finally have their unconventional happily ever after.

NCIS: Tony & Ziva is executive produced by John McNamara, Weatherly, de Pablo, Laurie Lieser, Christina Strain, Shelley Meals and Mairzee Almas. The CBS Studios series is distributed by Paramount Global Content Distribution.

[panakinthedisco]

As the world lay in shambles by the sudden outbreak of a disease called cordyceps brain infection, society is broken, the government is on the rubble where a world became lawless and violent. But even chaos is prevalent, some are persistent to find a vaccine, though it is deemed impossible and hopeless due to the overwhelming mutation.

Kannika Suriya-Neuman, the only child of two known Medical professors took part with the cause - becoming the first pioneers who tried to find the vaccine, ten years after the outbreak. With her parents, Phillip Neuman and Anna Suriya, the tumultuous journey to find a cure becomes, metaphorically speaking, the search for a holy grail that can end the virus once and for all. Their team that consisted of surviving doctors and medicine majors from different prestigious universities across America took part in a seemingly impossible cause.

Even though there is progress, a group of syndicates that are formed has other things in mind. For years living in a world without law or governance, the idea to take power in a lawless country will be gone if a vaccine is created. The Citadel whose ideology is protecting the society they created is now in a threat to the vaccine so they did the unthinkable, pulverize the whole operation.

By the massacre of Kannika's colleagues along with her mother who sacrificed her life by saving people, the search for the cure becomes thin up until a revolutionary group by the name The Fireflies steps in to protect the remaining survivors.

But the quest of the cure becomes hopeless for another ten years. Kannika, now thirty eight years old, is beginning to believe that the world she's living in is going to rot along with the decaying corpses of the clickers and runners. Until, Marlene, one of The Fireflies, tells her about a young girl who might be the answer to the prolonged cure.

Hope begins to shine in the horizon as Kannika sets the journey to find the young girl who is said to be immune from the virus. In between crossroads and that small hope that she hid in her heart, a man with a cold heart comes to her with tenderness and begs to be indulged by that love that he couldn't even remember. Kannika finds herself with Joel Miller, a man whose life is enveloped in regrets and sadness. But Kannika is in thin ice as Joel would take a bullet for the young girl that he grows to love as his own child.

A child over the future of many generations.

While for Kannika with a gun in her hand pointing to her lover, she silently hopes from the darkest corner of her mind that Joel should've pulled the trigger.

pairings: joel miller x original character / original characters x canon characters

warnings: major character deaths (oop!), smut, violence, brief mentions of SA (will state in the chapter) and gore.

author's notes: this is a slowburn romance for kannika and joel. also, as much i want to make this as a reader x joel, kannika neuman has a special in my heart soooooo sorry y'all! this fic will stick to some parts of the canon (series and video game) but act one and act two is full canon divergence. basically making my own lore.

other notes: most of the graphics of this fic are made by me unless its stated.

translated version/s: i've got a spanish translation for this fic in wattpad. you can check it out in here [CLICK HERE]

collateral damage gif banner: made by @alderaandors <3

AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD & AO3

ACT ONE | INFERNO (sets in ten years after outbreak)

001 . . . . fungi

002 . . . . sense of normalcy

003 . . . . happy anniversary!

004 . . . . breaking dawn

005 . . . . the holy grail

006 . . . . alternate universe

007 . . . . i am, i am, i am

008 . . . . all things must pass

009 . . . . sense of kindness

010 . . . . whiskey and fate

011 . . . . machiavellian

012 . . . . a little light

013 . . . . tortured soul

014 . . . . the punisher

015 . . . . not now, not ever

ACT TWO | PURGATORIO (sets in eleven years after outbreak)

016 . . . . a path ahead

017 . . .. happiness is a warm gun

ACT THREE | PARADISO (sets in twenty years after outbreak)

SEE BELOW THE SPOTIFY PLAYLISTS OR YOU CAN VISIT MY ACCOUNT.

☆ MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION | SOCIALS | SIGN OFF BANNER MADE BY. @ALDERAANDORS ☆

[postroesociety]

hi

I'm a trans minor w/ a uterus. I've seen a few posts saying to delete all period tracking apps/devices/services etc. and paper track. Is there any reason why? I use the free version of the period tracker "Stardust", because it also has the moon cycles. I'm not sure how well known it is.

So is there any reason why we should start paper tracking? Is it that there is actually a possible threat of people checking through your period apps? For what purposes?

Tysm. I think we're all struggling rn. I hope you're doing well <333

We'll get through this, I know we will.

-B

Hi!!! first of all, thank you for asking and second congrats on being the very first ask I got!

The main reason why people are saying we should delete period tracker apps is that these period tracker apps will often keep your data and if you were to get into trouble for receiving an abortion, then law enforcement would request your data regardless of its "anonymized" status or not. They would still be able to track it back to you and your identity.

Although there is always that reason there's a lot more. for example:

Most of these apps are considered lifestyle apps, which aren't protected by HIPPA laws.

companies can buy and use your private information

there is no legislation protecting you and your data

Stardust, however, does have an encryption code system that they use. Stardust said this in the caption of their most recent Instagram post:

"We keep your data safe by storing your contact information with third parties and storing your health data against a random account ID. This means that we do not link your health data to your real-world identity."

I personally use Stardust but I am still wary of using it and I'm not exactly sure if it would still be completely safe if you live in a state like Texas or Georgia, which has incredibly restrictive laws.

The reason people are urging others to go back to the brick-and-mortar calendar method is because of concerns about data leaks that could be used against you. More specifically, the data of your last period, your last ovulation cycle, among all the other aspects of your cycle can be studied to determine whether or not you may have been pregnant and received an abortion.

At the end of the day, it's gonna be up to you if you trust Stardust, but my advice would be to only use it if you're in a blue state with access to abortion, confident you will not get pregnant from a sexual partner (SA still can happen so be wary), and finally if you decide you can trust Stardust.

For anyone interested in how to track your period via the calendar method, I suggest you consult this article from Planned Parenthood..

And to B, thank you for asking this question, it's greatly appreciated. If you (or anyone else) have questions, concerns, or needs support, please don't hesitate to reach out to me in my dm's or through asks.

Sincerely,

Post Roe Society.

[kataraavatara]

https://www.tumblr.com/thought--bubble/734425326135967744/why-are-some-people-so-insanely-aggressive-when-it?source=share

Aegon can get away with things, even with crimes like rape, just because he's a man. Also, the poor children in the fighting pits wouldn't agree that he's the best for the kingdom.

wow! the post you shared was…something!

“Aegon is the first born, true born son of the king. He should be king by birthright. Recognizing that is how westeros works doesn't mean I agree with it. Just that I understand that is how it works.”

How is supporting his usurpation not agreeing with it? “I just understand the way Westeros works” um, did you think George wrote the story with the intent of you seeing the injustice of male supremacy and saying “🤷‍♀️ whelp that’s how things are. people should not change it.”

“he has the council of Otto and Alicent, and regardless of how people feel about them, they successfully ran a peaceful, stable kingdom while viserys was rotting away.”

Otto and Alicent got kicked to the curb as soon as Aegon started feeling a little temperamental.

“his children are true born, and there is no question on that. His sons ascension would not be questioned and most likely would be a peaceful transition of power. (Again, this is better for the people at large)”

Like Rhaenyra says, the only thing strong enough to tear down the house of the dragon is itself. If the Greens don’t throw a bitch fit, no one else is saying shit about King Jacaerys I and Queen Baela Targaryen.

“as scared of his duties as his is, he comes through and performs them. (i.e., has children with heleana, takes a crown he did not want to protect his family)”

Is having children with Helaena supposed to be a different at Rhaenyra not having Laenor’s biological kids? Because Laenor is a gay man? Because arguably both scenarios require one spouse forcing themselves on the other depending on whether you believe Aegon abuses Helaena or not, which I personally do. So we’re applauding Aegon for…*checks notes* Having sex? And that’s great that he (allegedly) stood up when he was convinced his family was in imminent danger, but where was the family man attitude when he was SAing servants, drinking 24/7, and (allegedly) molesting children?

“he is way more likely to take advice and guidance instead of thinking he is right about things all of the time. He has not exhibited Rhaenyra's tendency to weaponize her power in order to get away with shirking tradition and common law. (I.e. Weaponizing the term treason in order to force people to ignore the objective reality of her sons legitimacy)”

Uh, no. While Alicent and Otto were horrified by Luke’s murder, that guy threw a party to celebrate the death of his nephew. Again, this is the man who fired Otto for not being violent enough. Oh, and he hasn’t weaponized his power to get away with shit? What about the serving girls in the Red Keep in the book and Dyana in the show? What about the children in fighting pits?

And “Shirking tradition”?

Well, traditionally, a king should be studious, well read, study arms, keep himself in good physical shape and generally conduct himself in an appropriate way and as the model of chivalry that the rest of the men in the kingdom should emulate. Think of Jaehaerys (for all his flaws), Aemon, Baelon, Baelor Breakspear…Aegon was a pudgy man child who spent his days drinking and assaulting women.

And, when following Common Law, rapists are gelded and sent to the wall.

Rhaenyra’s biggest crime as of this point in being complicit in the death of one man because she feared for her children’s safety and sought an alliance with Daemon. The only other things she’s done wrong is going against a patriarchal medieval society.

Meanwhile, Aegon has raped a woman, all the serving girls at the keep are wary around him, watches children in fighting pits, has bastards and abandons them. Erryk is literally so sickened by his behavior he defects!

It’s very telling that Rhaenyra’s “crimes” of going against Westerosi tradition are seen as worse than Aegon’s actual crimes against the common people.

You’re right, anon. The double standards in this fandom are insane.

[blueepink07]

Yuno's birthday is today, so I decided that I wanted to post something for her! I quite struggled to find a topic to talk about, because there are already many analyses of her birthday art, so I decided to take a look at the interrogation questions, and found something really interesting!

(not sure if it's a tw, but I talk about some negative aspects of society and some more or less sad things that life has to offer!)

"How many years do you want to live?"

Considering that with every birthday you are aging up, I wanted to do a short character analysis for Yuno, and reasons for why her answer makes sense. (Also, I felt like this answer of hers was overlooked a little!)

1. Yuno is a realistic person: she stated it herself in the interrogation questions and actively shows this in the voice dramas

"A realistic person is someone who believes that the world has a certain way of working and is willing to accept it. Realists are the people who believe that the world is not perfect and that there will be problems. They are not idealistic and have few unrealistic expectations."

In the first VD, Yuno shows understanding of how the real world works, how people act in certain situations, judge their peers for their own selfishness, to feel better about themselves. Yuno, despite her young age, already grasped the negativity traits of the society and how themselves are the cause of the enclosure of their minds and specific features in order to fit to what is considered the norm and morally accepted.

However, she thinks different in comparison with the majority. Yuno lives for fun, she wants to experience exciting things! She wants to avoid boring activities or situations. Problems or any kind of inconvenience are considered bothersome.

And there are plenty examples for that!

Yuno second voice drama:

"Yuno: I said so at the start, didn’t I? That punishing people outside of the law is boundless. And so I had no interest in Milgram.

Es: Yes, I remember. You said that you would pay my judgment no mind and remain as you were.

Yuno: Oh! That’s right! I’m happy you remembered. But, you know, I didn’t exactly hate it, Milgram. It’s nothing but weird people but it was warmer than my day-to-day life.

Es: It did appear as though you were having fun.

Yuno: Yes, it was fun! They may be murderers, but they’re interesting people! It puts me at ease, in a way, that we’re all people lacking in something.

Es: You are saying that that changed and it’s my fault?

Yuno: Yep! This situation’s bothersome-ness has won out over the fun so I am extremely cooled off. That is all."

During first trial, Yuno felt accepted in a group where everyone was lacking something. They are all murderers, so they can't be considered the norm or morally accepted. It was a mutual understanding that they are all different, they did something unusual, and so, for Yuno the atmosphere felt nice, calming. She always felt excited, because Milgram was a nice change of place for her, different from the judgemental people from outside who were bounded by the rules.

That's why she is expressing her total distaste towards Es's actions. They are the same as the society: judging the prisoners constantly, enforcing rules and punishments which are constraining their lives in Milgram.

Moreover, because of the first trial results, the prison is no longer a safe place, because of the conflicts that arose between characters, for example: Kotoko's rampage, Amane and Shidou.

If during the first trial, they were all the same, some people stuck in a weird prison, due to their unusual actions, in second trial, they were divided into two groups: forgiven and guilty, resulting in having different treatment, creating an imbalance between them.

The forgiven prisoners, although they still lack a certain something or desire, with an innocent verdict, it diminished a little that feeling of emptiness, happy that there is someone who understands them.

Haruka second voice drama

Haruka: I wanted to thank you, Warden-san!

Es: Thank me?

Haruka: Because you forgave me, Warden-san!

Es: …

Haruka: Because you told me that what I did wasn’t wrong…! That’s what changed me! I was saved by you, Warden-san…

Muu second voice drama

Muu: Ah, it’s been a while, Warden-san. – Things have gotten tough, haven’t they… Everyone seems to be struggling and the whole atmosphere feels tense because everyone’s struggling, it’s really troublesome.

Es: Is that so?

Muu: But as for me, I think Milgram has become a lot more comfortable! I know now that I can get whatever I want if I ask for it, so I don’t need to be so on edge anymore.

Or it evoked a new purpose in their life, a new change in their mindset.

Shidou second voice drama

Shidou: I need to be punished… but I need to stay alive, or young lives will be lost. I… I don’t know what to wish for anymore. I’m starting to think… that I want to live. That I want to be forgiven. Despite being so riddled with sins…!

The guilty prisoners, however, if they lacked something before, now that feeling is amplified. Some of them lost confidence of their initial thoughts, are broken and injured.

For Yuno, this imbalance of treatment between prisoners is similar with how people are acting in the real world. Those who have it better tend to turn a blind eye towards the problems. They are aware of them, but most of the time, don't act to resolve them, because it isn't a concern, or there must be someone who can take care of it. Sometimes, people tend to judge those who have it worse, because there it always must be a reason for why they are in such a difficult situation, most probably it's their own fault.

Yuno, herself, doesn't really like to associate with bothersome situations and problems, but she knows when she needs to take responsibility and will do anything to assure that her family and friends are in good health. When Shidou is not around, Yuno is the one who keeps Mahiru company and makes sure that she is fine!

In a way, it makes sense why Yuno dislikes Haruka and Muu. Although they know about these problems in prison, they were never seen trying to help a little, always living in their own bubble! Muu's lack of concern in this situation annoys Yuno, as it easily resembles the way society is.

Muu: The ones who are suffering are the ones who have done bad things, right? You know, like, what goes around comes around.

Es: …

Muu: Besides, Kotoko hurt and was mean to the people who didn’t get forgiven by you, right?

Es: …Yeah.

Muu: Wouldn’t it be weird for me to have any thoughts on that, then? After all, I didn’t do anything wrong. You forgave me!

Moreover, Yuno is an expert at reading the atmosphere and changing the way she acts based on which person she is with or situation, something that Muu doesn't really bother with.

Muu and Yuno timeline post

"Mu: Hey~~~Isn’t everyone a bit gloomy lately? I get that this situation isn’t ideal, but you’re really bringing down the mood for my birthday.

Yuno: Haha, surely even you can tell now’s not really the time for something like that right. Nobody’s really in the mood, or rather nobody has time time to deal with something like that."

It gets quite long, so I'll get to the point! Explaining why Yuno hates the society, makes sense for why she answered like this! She gives herself enough time to experience adulthood, as she wants to have a job which would interest her and still wants to experience some fun along with it! But she doesn't see herself as spending so much time in a world like this. Because it's too serious, too complicated and at a certain point, she'll get completely bored of it!

"Do you have any dreams for the future?"

2. As the years pass, you grow older and such have more problems or struggles. Financial issues, stress at job, taking care of the house, maintaining relationships can be more harder, feeling of loneliness.

Moreover, 40 years old is in average almost half of the lifetime for humans. In the second half, you start to experience a decline in health, meaning more stress and pain.

Describing all these in such a negative light really looks like there is a lot of hassle...

As I stated before, Yuno would dislike all these problems, it deprives her from the fun time and from the warmth she is actively seeking for.

Also, this timeline conversation with Amane, let us see an interesting part of her character!

"Yuno: Sorry for barging in when you’re getting into your worldview thing. But Mahiru-san’s finally managed to get to sleep. Humour me with some small talk while I take a break.

By the way, Amane. Have you ever wished you were never born? I’ve thankfully lived a pretty fun life so far, so haven’t really. But you seem to be struggling with something. So I kinda wondered if you thought like that."

It's human nature to wish to escape from this world, every time you reach a difficult point in life.

It seems that Yuno quite thinks the same. Despite not experiencing this feeling, because, so far, she had lots of fun, she doesn't have much interest in living in a world where there are many problems. She doesn't want to struggle much, so adulthood, if she's unlucky and doesn't fulfil her wish of having an interesting job, would not be very exciting...

Also, she doesn't have a positive world view when it comes to hardships.

Yuno first voice drama

"Yuno: Hm~What's this? A lecture? Are you a believer in Seishinron? I hate them more than anything else, you know?"

She's realistic, this kind of belief is used to motivate people in order to work more. It's an idolized version of the world, in Yuno's opinion. Already having this mindset, means that she is aware that not every future problem can be solved. Health problems? It depends a lot of the circumstances, but unfortunately, not always they can be overcomed. Stress at job? Or it's just a temporary event, or it is the norm. The option would be to find something else, but that also means again stress and sometimes is very difficult to find.

Anyway, Yuno gives herself time to experience adulthood, but doesn't want to spend much time as an adult.

3. Old people are most of the time treated as nuisances by the society...

And the way they are depicted, is something that Yuno would never want to be referenced!

Weak, frail, feeble... Financially distressed.... It reminds me of a certain line...

"Yuno: I’m not pitiable. My family gets along super well. And I’m not particularly struggling for money. I decided, of my own free will, to do it because I felt that it was necessary for me."

People tend to remember relatives mostly by the last moments of their life, usually when they are old. Yuno doesn't want to be remembered as weak, old or fragile! She wants to be remembered as a strong person, smart and fun to engage with! That’s why she would rather live a shorter, healthy life, than to be considered something that she hates.

4. In most cases, when people reach adulthood, they see their parents growing old. They are struggling due to health issues and, as their child, it can be hard to watch something like this. Also, you have this anticipation that one day, you'll never see them again.

Despite 40 years old it's not the most predominant age when it comes to family loss, there are still many people that experience grieving at younger ages.

Yuno cares deeply about her family, as stated in interrogation questions and minigrams. For her, the idea of losing a family member will be very sad and painful, a concept that she doesn't want to think of!

Interrogation question examples:

"What do you think about your family?"

"Is there someone you want to see right now?"

"Imagine you receive 1.000.000 yen that you must spend right now: what would you use them for?"

"If you had one wish, what would you use it for?"

If I think about it, Yuno has the most interrogation questions in which she is talking about her family!

Also, the minigram in question in which is shown her wholesome bound with her brother!

40 years old would be the perfect age in order for Yuno to not see her family members being in pain or, worse, losing them...

I hope I gave a good insight of Yuno's character and explained why this answer makes so much sense!

Thank you for reading! ~ 🎂

[creativeimpetus]

What is the Squire?

Endsday, 45th, Wend.

The Squire, or Esquire, is a most unusual phenomenon. They are the dapper beasts— I am sure you know the same three or four at every locale— having crowded the eateries, the train stations, the theaters, and public squares, with their bulky frames and excited flourishes of the arms.

The Squire is an artful one whose interests lie in having sweets with hot drinks, and discussing the latest in fine culture. They carry themselves with dignity, as if they were Ladies gathered in a drawing room, and not packed together at the grease-laden tables of the chophouse. The patrons of the theaters and trains complain that they are too tall to sit in front, too talkative amongst themselves, and that they must sprawl across more than one seat to be comfortable.

The Squire’s favorite destination of all is the tailor’s, where they inquire, “Oh but have you any fine fabric for a poor quillock?” The warehouses are overflowing with the moth-eaten garments of the yesteryear. The Ladies cannot give their old rags to their servants, for they are much too big. If they fret so much about wasting them, then they must return them to the shop. But how much work to unravel the stack, for some Ladies discard their clothes every month! The Squire adopts the leftovers as her own and prides herself in public.

Not all businesses are so tolerant of the Squire. It is illegal for one to wear a crown and claim nobility. But it is not, and has never been, illegal for the non-noble matriarch to live. (If so, we would be lacking in those who dwell in the most undesirable, but important, stations of the Lakefront.) When prompted by authorities, the Squire is apt to smile, bat her doleful eyes, with such rote witticisms as, “I am no one in particular!” And “In the grand scheme, I think myself rather unimportant!” And of course, “I am only a Squire among friends.” The title of Squire has no legal bearing.

But where do these ‘Esquires’ come from? And what is their aim?

Recall that Her Grace the 9th Duchess Alabonsé was made legitimate by the Temple, on the claim that it was the “will of the Sanctimonious that she had been drawn to the Lake as a youth”. As consequence, all such victims of the Lake are now legitimized. They are no longer confined to the monastery, but allowed to re-enter society in ‘modesty’.

The balance of modesty and ostentation is the bread-and-butter of the Ladies Esquire. They crop their quills short, so as to not impose a crown, but leave their cheek markings bright. They accentuate their eyes with gilded glasses and ornaments. Though they wear dark coats and dresses, they decorate them with colorful ties, scarves, and trim.

On fair-weather days, the Squires meander the side-walks to hand flowers to passerbys, paper dolls to children, and spread crumbs for the birds. There is nothing so terrible about them. In private, they do nothing remarkable either. In the many attempts to uncover their ‘devious aims’, none so far have made a reasonable claim. The Squires are in violation of no law, speak nothing against the Temple, and seem only to discuss ordinary things. The Squires’ only crime is that they purport themselves to be warm and sociable people, not miserable beasts.

The Squire is always intentional about herself. This intention begins with her making. The so-called tragedy is orchestrated at a funeral, a marriage, or perhaps any other pilgrimage to the Lakeshore. She stands at a terrible spot, and once she has fallen into the Lake by ‘accident’, she awakens in the monastery ward. While others bemoan what she has become, she is content in her being, only feigning disappointment, or perhaps not at all. She will, invariably, be met with open arms by fellow Squires.

And what say the Duchesses of them? Her Grace the 3rd Duchess Eschyllon invited the Squires of Sanctimonious to her banquet house, during the 1st quarter of Warm this year. She remarked that they were “amusing” and “not an unpleasant bunch���. She said further, “Overall, such cases of the willing pretenders are so rare, there is no need to be alarmed. It is only a fad. Soon forgotten, [soon] regrettable.”

The subject of the Squires' motivations and impact remains curious. There are fewer than one-hundred Squires living in World Sanctimonious. The numbers in the Old World are unknown, but still less than a few hundred more. By the 3rd quarter of Wend next year, the ruffle over Squiredom is expected to dwindle altogether, following the Council’s new restrictions of the Lake.

[mariacallous]

In 2020, while the Covid-19 pandemic raged, a steadily growing epidemic continued to burn its path across the United States. Gun violence stole the lives of 45,222 Americans that fateful year, the worst year on record for gun deaths to that point.

The path leading to each one of these deaths is layered and complex. Each American killed by a bullet, each family grieving their loved one, deserves their own book. I never once thought that I would be one to write such a story.

I’m a gun-owning emergency physician, a father, and the cousin of a man who was shot to death. If it wasn’t for the National Rifle Association declaring in 2018 that physicians, like me, should “stay in their lane” and keep quiet about the toll of this plague, I wouldn’t have written about this subject. Yet gun violence consumes my life. I see victims of gun violence from family tragedies—children, adolescents, and adults—almost every day.

Addressing violence and death is the duty of anyone who has ever had to mend the wounds of a gunshot victim, to attempt heroic measures in the trauma bay, to meticulously care for the injured in the intensive care unit, or admit defeat in front of their loved ones. I have found no worse feeling than having to tell a mother or a father that their child has been killed by a bullet. We have practiced and perfected evidence-based medicine for decades. We should similarly practice evidence-based health policy. As it pertains to guns, some of that evidence already exists.

As a physician, I understand the limitations of science. The best research, at least in the biomedical sphere, usually requires the findings of randomized clinical trials, but running those for policymaking often isn’t feasible. In public health, the next best option is a natural experiment, in which one jurisdiction implements a policy and a similar, nearby jurisdiction does not, and policy makers can observe the difference.

The RAND Corporation’s The Science of Gun Policy—a synthesis of research into US gun policy—typically relies on these types of studies to inform its analysis. It is sometimes inconclusive, sometimes weak, sometimes strong in its assertions about the impacts of various policies that might impact lives in this epidemic of gun violence, but overall its analysis describes myriad policy levers that our current lawmakers could, and in my opinion should, swiftly implement at the federal, state, and local levels. The evidence states that we can save lives through the following:

Background checks through federal firearms licensed dealers for every firearms purchase

Licenses and permits for individuals who want to buy guns

Raising the minimum age for all firearm purchases to 21

Strong child access prevention laws

Brief waiting periods

Domestic violence restraining orders that require the relinquishing of existing firearms.

But I also believe there are two additional laws that should be repealed. Their presence in society should alarm physicians, advocates, and the people who write the laws.

Policy Prescription #1: Reverse Stand-Your-Ground Laws

On February 26, 2012, Trayvon Martin, a Black kid my height and with a similar build, was walking through a neighborhood in Sanford, Florida, after purchasing a bag of Skittles and a drink. He was essentially stalked by the captain of a local neighborhood watch patrol. Following an altercation—one that a 911 dispatcher urged the overly zealous neighborhood watchman to avoid—Martin lay on the ground, shot dead by a single bullet that traversed his heart and lung.

All of that young man’s hopes and dreams of one day becoming an aviator were struck down by a man who would eventually be acquitted of murder because of Florida’s stand-your-ground statute that created a culture of approach, provoke, and kill. Stand your ground certainly contributed to the young boy’s death.

Every state has some form of this doctrine embedded in common law, something that recognizes that an American man or woman inside their home has the right to defend themselves. But how far does that right travel outside the home? Obviously, if someone approached you attempting to harm you, no one would blame you for defending yourself. But what happens when you initiate the incident and instead of retreating, escalate a situation that never needed to exist in the first place?

The castle doctrine permits a person who is in his or her home to defend it and themselves from harm without any duty to retreat to safety. But a duty to retreat when in public exists in many states. Ohio, Wisconsin, and North Dakota, however, extend the castle doctrine to one’s personal vehicle. In some locations, largely in the South, this doctrine extends to anyplace a person has a legal right to be. Vermont and Washington, DC, remain the only two jurisdictions where a duty to retreat remains supreme.

Stand-your-ground laws clearly increase the risk of homicides, specifically firearm homicides, and have no beneficial impacts on other forms of violent crime, suggesting that these laws have not lived up to their purported deterrent effect. Lawmakers should repeal them and revert to a more limited use of the castle doctrine to prevent the deaths of their constituents.

Policy Prescription #2: Concealed Carry Laws Should Adhere to the ‘May-Issue’ Standard

Concealed carry rights are nearly universal, although 23 states and the District of Columbia require a permit to do so as of 2023. The other 27 states do not require a permit, and individuals there can concealed-carry without any form of vetting.

Concealed carry laws differ in several distinct ways, ranging in order of least to most restrictive, from permitless carry to shall-issue to may-issue laws. Among the states that require a permit for someone to carry a concealed weapon, the permitting entity, often law enforcement, must issue it to anyone who meets minimum standards in shall-issue states. In may-issue states, there is some additional leeway for law enforcement to prevent issuing a permit to people who might be a threat to themselves or others, even if they otherwise would be eligible.

Shouldn’t a small-town sheriff who knows his community well have some discretion when reviewing applications? What if there was a violent man in that community who has been drinking when he walks through the door and who, in anger, strikes his wife repeatedly, but each time the cops come out for a domestic disturbance they are told that she simply fell down the stairs? If that man applied for a concealed carry license in a shall-issue state, he would easily receive it. In a may-issue state, the sheriff might wisely reject the application and potentially save the life of that man’s wife.

Lonny Pulkrabek, a Jefferson County sheriff who laments that his state legislature voted to make Iowa a shall-issue state in 2011, no longer has any discretion when issuing a concealed carry permit. He reported that in 2018, “I’ve already got 140 people through May that have criminal records that have permits, that were issued permits to carry. We’ve seen a lot more people with lengthy criminal histories who in fact are willing to go through and jump through the hoops and get the permit to carry it legally.”

Sheriff Pulkrabek maintains a “wall of shame” of the several hundred concealed carry permits he has been forced to issue to Iowans with criminal records because the state elected to follow an inferior law over a decade ago. Researchers, utilizing the natural experiment set by the various policies in force in different states, have detected differences between states with divergent legal frameworks as they pertain to concealed carry. The Science of Gun Policy indicates that shall-issue laws, such as Iowa’s, may increase overall violent crime compared to may-issue laws. Based on the underlying research, scientists estimate that in 10 years following a transition to the more permissive type of concealed carry law, violent crime increases by up to 15 percent.

Since concealed carry laws have been shown to increase violent crime, shouldn’t we have some say about who walks around town with a hidden firearm? Unfortunately, many state legislatures haven’t been following the science. Iowa recently went even farther afield, along with Tennessee and Texas, by weakening their laws to allow for permitless carry beginning in the summer of 2021. I worry that it will lead to more crime and more bloodshed.

In the Covid pandemic, the average American learned what public health can and cannot do. We’ve witnessed the scientific method unfold before our eyes as we waited for vaccines and treatments to be created in record time. Just as public health measures—such as staying at home in the early phases of the Covid crisis, wearing masks once society began to open, and vaccination—tamed this most recent pandemic, I have faith that science can do the same thing for endemic gun violence in America.

The science compiled by the RAND Corporation suggests a series of potential legislative approaches that will save the lives of some of the over 45,000 Americans who die by firearms each year. We cannot eliminate every injury, every death, or every shooting, but we must recognize that we can positively impact our fellow Americans, save lives, and relieve suffering by implementing some very simple laws that I describe.

Adapted from Under the Gun: An ER Doctor's Cure for America's Gun Epidemic, by Cedric Dark, MD, MPH, with Seema Yasmin. Copyright 2024. Published with permission of Johns Hopkins University Press.

[fatichar-thoughts]

Couple of thoughts that have been ringing against my skull for a while

This is in context with all the SA happening, in my home country (where the nation and its people failed to protect a doctor who was doing her duty), in my neighborhood (where a 3 year old wasn't spared from the horrors), the world (where in one corner a female violence epidemic has been announced, other places where legalization of child marriage, rape, forced birth are trying to become the norm), and more and more and more and more and more.

So, we've always heard that women should be demure, should be covered up, should not leave the home after dark, should carry mace, should learn self defence, should not speak to men apart from their family, should seek protection etc etc etc

But the solution here seems fairly simple isn't it

The people who cause this issue, should be penalized. And fuck sitting around for laws to be made, because women have been asking for what seems like centuries now and it's gone nowhere

Put a curfew on men.

That's the solution

They're the ones causing the issue

Put a curfew on them

They shouldn't be allowed outside after sundown

They shouldn't be allowed to look or speak to women unless the woman has given them a go ahead

The burden of fixing a problem caused by men should be dealt by men. Why do women constantly have to bear the brunt. They're already the ones being harmed. You don't berate the sick, you use medication to harm and destroy the disease.

And for those who want to "not all men" at me

Cool. The men need to prove to society that they are not part of the problem. Those men get special privileges. They get permission to be out post sundown. It's like an employment contract. Get a probationary period where your behaviour is evaluated, and get permissions to be out in society post that.

If not all men are contributing to SA, they shouldn't have a problem proving it, right?