#and also a fear of the inconvenience of what happens after death

[iaintkissingnofrog]

I don't think I care about my parents

[rekino2114]

How did the " I am a devil/ one of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse" for Makima and Fami and how long did it take

I was curious about how this situation played out ever since the Asa/Yoru relationship headcanon, given it was a requirement for the relationship to continue/start and anyone who has a speck of emotional intelligence involving romance would tell you honesty is key to a long lasting healthy relationship not to mention dating one of the most powerful devils in the world is something you should be given a heads up about going forward.

Makima revealing her identity to you

A/n:sooooo I might have gotten a bit too much into writing this for makima and wrote more than usual i feel like what I had in mind for fami was kinda shorter than this and that it wouldn't have been fair in my head (also I didn't have that much time to finish it anyway) I'll do the fami part of this tomorrow in another post. Sorry for the inconvenience and if that's not what you wanted.

As much as she hated to admit it, makima was scared.

Fear was a rare but not new emotion to her, the only times she felt it was when you were fighting a strong devil like a primal one or when you were close to death in general. But all of those instances of her fear had something in common: she was scared that you would die that you would be ripped away from her in an unfair way, she never consider the fact that you would leave her of your own volition.

Makima took for granted the fact that you would love each other and be together forever, after all she loved you more than anything she could ever do could describe and you loved her too, she would literally give you the world if you just asked for it, as long as you would be with her you would get anything you could have possibly ever wanted in exchange of just continuing to love her. She had never thought you would have a reason to leave her...until now.

She had tried to delay this conversation as long as possible, only deciding to tell you after months of you dating (close to a year),the reason why she decided to reveal her identity to you was simple: it was better to tell you than you finding out some other way, you would have felt betrayed by her if you had found out without her telling you beforehand, the last thing she wanted to do was make you feel like she didn't love you.

The reason she waited so much before telling you was because she had no idea what would happen to her if you left her. Maybe she would have gone back to her old self, but she doubted it, the her from before was someone who had never loved and never been loved, and the hypothetical her was someone's who had that loved torn away from her because of nothing but herself. She would either become an even worse version of the emotionless control devil or she would have just asked denji to eat her to end her pitiful existence.

"Hey makima you called me right?"

You entering her office snapped her out of her thoughts, she put on a fake smile and started talking to you

"Yes darling,please sit down"

You did as she said and looked at her, the way she was smiling felt forced and you could see that.

"Is everything alright? You look worried"

".....you really understand me... I have to tell you something it's....really important"

"Sure what is it?"

Seeing you smile so innocently and warmly at her made her heart skip a beat. She could never hurt you, and that included lying to you.

"I want to tell you something that will definitely change your view of me in many ways but before I do that please know that I love you I always have and I always will, none of the loving words I told you were lies and none of the actions I have done have been made to manipulate you in any way, what I feel for you Is love at the purest state"

Makima stopped and you nodded at her as a sign to continue

"I.........am the control devil"

She gave you time to process what she said before starting to speak again with her head lowered as to not see your reaction.

"I am one of the four horseman of the apocalypse, some of the strongest devils that exist, I have the ability to control anyone who I feel is beneath me, please know that I have never used it on you as I both can't and despise the thought of"

Makima could feel her heart sink deeper and her face sweating more with every word she uttered she was so afraid of your reaction she still could bring herself to confront you face to face.

"I-i have just one request for you, I understand if you hate me for lying to you but let me explain myself, I have never been truly loved in my life until I met you you have made me feel emotions for the first time in my life and.....I can't lose you it would mean losing the part of me that i value most...s-so-"

Makima finally raised her head to look at you, tears that she never even realized were there ran through her cheeks.

"Please don't leave me"

Makima had never cried tears that were of true sadness all of the times that tears were present in her eyes they were ones of happiness caused by you, she had never felt sad enough to cry.....until now, she also felt very embarrassed that you saw this vulnerable side of her so she quickly lowered her head again expecting you to insult her or run away. What greeted her were not harsh words but your warm hands wrapping themselves around her body.

"It's fine I forgive you, what you did just now proved to me not only that you love me but that you are as much of a human as everyone else"

Makima was so shocked at your answer: You not only forgave her but considered her a human? She opened her mouth to speak, but as if you could read her mind, you answered her question even before she could ask it.

"You were worried I was gonna leave you, so much that you cried, you were worried that the person who showed you what love and emotions truly are was going to reject you just because of something you were born as and that doesn't define who you are now. That's an incredibly human thing to feel. Your tears were real, I'm sure of that, I've known you for enough time to know when you're faking emotions and that....was probably the most real display of feelings I have ever seen, you are a person makima, a person that I love and will continue to love forever"

Makima fell silent for a moment she needed a moment to fully realize what was happening but as soon as she did she hugged you just as you were doing to her, she raised her face to look at yours and even if the tears were still in her beautiful ringed eyes, a wide smile was now present on her face.she was crying tears of joy

"Thank you, just thank you so much, i promise i will treasure you forever I can't tell you how incredibly happy I feel right now"

"It's nothing, you treated me with nothing but love ever since I met you, I would never leave you"

You kissed her lips to once again affirm your love to her, she did the same and what resulted was a kiss filled with nothing but pure unfiltered love between the two of you.

"I love you"

"I love you too, more than words can describe, just....thank you for loving me"

[anundyingfidelity]

INTERROGATION GONE WRONG – Cleon XIII/Brother Day

Summary: Cleon XIII interrogates his statisticians about Hari Seldon's predictions. His in-turn maid remains there hearing the conversation, unbeknownst to him, knowing the answer - at least part of.

Pairing: Cleon XIII/Brother Day x female maid reader.

Word count: 2.9k.

Warnings: extremely dub-con, smut, abuse of power, forced orgasm, choking, fingering, degradation, p in v, creampie, not the soft aftercare you're waiting for. The author is also non native English speaker.

Notes: this is based on that scene of 1x04. This is the most non-con thing I've written ever. I gave my warnings. Also please watch Foundation lol, this show reminded me of how much I loved Lee Pace since like 2014. Once I'm in, I will never get out and I needed to write something for Cleon I love him he is an idiot.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

The man fell with a thud on the floor. You should be scared, surprised, trembling with fear, but this was not new behavior for you or anyone in the palace. Since Seldon's exile and the disaster shaking the Empire gradually, the response of the new Cleon was clearly expected after being a witness of a poor reunion and inconvenience with the staticians. More than a conversation, it felt like a judgment, a death one.

"Dining, now," he ordered passing by your figure on his way to leave the throne room. With a bow, you followed in an instant and ready to serve him.

Cleary, you could tell he was not in the good mood that day, already skipping the meal for breakfast with his brothers earlier; something that was out of the itineraries. Once a change of the routine happened, it meant something was off, so you thought. Demerzel was also not around, attending other meetings, so this left you alone with Empire, opening the door of the sole dining room the Brothers used privately, with the tall figure of Cleon XIII waiting impatiently for his midday meal and looking every move you made around the place to please him as fast as your feet allowed.

The cooks served the meal arranged from the menu after your order and they left as rapid as they came in, Brother Day dispatching them with a hand gesture once they were done. You took a couple of steps back, standing close to the table but ready in case he dispatched your presence as well.

"Not you, you stay," he commanded after sipping his wine for the first time, eyes focused on the plate he would eat.

"Yes, Empire."

You had to obligue, and that is what happened. You watched him from the corner of your eye, from time to time in silence, pretending to be unconcerned and collected, though that was far from being true. The whole meal time was eternal, specially that day. With no Brother Dawn nor Brother Dusk around for Brother Day to have a bland talk with, only the sound of fine cutlery clinking against porcelain as Empire ate. Boring, your head began to spin around, thinking in non-senses and theories of what you heard and read from Seldon's predictions of the fall. Empire was cruel, but it had you working, serving food to your plate, and probably that was enough. But it didn't stop your curiosity of learning further the philosophy of Hari Seldon.

When in front of Empire, your gaze seemed lost but your mind was working. You never said a single comment about studying Seldon's theory, of course. You were just a maid. Science and university never were a good pair for a woman who served the Empire. However, you still found the math behind his calculations as something intriguing and fascinating for some reason...

"Maid," the loud voice of the Emperor interrupted your daydream. "I said, wine."

The intense look on his eyes forced you to attend his order fast, serving more of the fermented liquid on the cup standing besides his plate.

His large hand took the cup when you filled it with wine and he sipped again, his eyes scanning you slow and deep. You knew he sensed something was wrong with you. Swallowing, you noticed he already had finished with his meal, so you finally you dared to speak.

"Can I retire your plate, Empire?"

"Is there something you want to share, maid?" he responded, blatantly ignoring your question and dragging your title like it was nothing but a shameful word to spill.

"At all, Empire," your voice came as a whisper.

Brother Day stood on his feet with such grace and started a slow walk towards your figure. You wanted to step away, but you feet were glued to the ground, so his tall and intimidating form washed over you soon.

"Speak," he instructed coldly. You started to tremble, unable to take off your scared eyes from him, bitting your bottim lip as he leaned. "Or do you want to be punished?"

His hand forced around your neck all of a sudden. As an act of reflection, you tried to pull back from his grip, but he was much stronger, having you in place and cutting your breath. "I know you hide enthusiasm around Doctor Seldon's theories," he whispered darkly on your ear. "I am not giving you a choice, speak!"

As he yelled down his last words, he pushed you harshly, body falling to the grown. Air filled your lungs once again and you coughed, sitting down and watching that he was coming closer with big steps. You dragged yourself on the floor using your hands and feet trying to not tangle yourself with the fabric of your dress. Fighting the tears on your eyes, your back touched the wall and sobbed. There was nowhere to go now. So you finally confessed.

"Your staticians would not give you a number because it's true!" you cried out. Brother Day stopped on his tracks just a couple of inches before you. "It's all true, Doctor Seldon is right. And it all began with the Star Bridge, I know you were a child when it happened because I was a child too when the crisis started. There is a probability, but is not zero," you said, recalling his words.

You saw his face changed. He was exhasperated already, but rage appeared in his eyes in a very visible way; a rage that you had yet to see from Empire. Fear took over you, afraid of what would happen next. Should you keep talking? Should you continue crying? Scream for nobody to come around for your sake? As you questioned yourself, he lowered himself to be at your level on the ground. Brother Day never sat down, but he was making sure to get under your skin. His powerful gaze had a quick effect to do that.

"Go on."

Too scared to speak, you opened your lips but no sound came out. Empire waited your words for a moment, scrutinizing your face. And still, nothing came. He grabbed your arm with a rough grip, forcing you to stand up, colliding with his body until your back hit the empty part of the table he had been eating in.

"You have ten seconds to continue or I will force everything that is in your head out of you, maid," Cleon threatened. "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three-"

"I said it was probability," you shuddered. "Life is a probability by all means and Seldon knows that," you breathed, aware that Brother Day was feeling your shaking body under his piercing eyes. "I studied Doctor Seldon's psychohistory and theory for the last four years, learning math and other sciences on my free time on the library. So even if I don't posses a title, I know his hypothesis was only that at the time; a hypothesis can be null, but also be provable, and thus now is not untrue."

He slowly leaned away.

"So you say there is no error on Seldon's ecuation," he concluded, jaw clenching.

"None that I could find."

Brother Day paced in front of you, back and forth, hrad processing what he just heard. You could tell he was getting what he wanted, but nothing was what he really longed for. And what you found was nothing but the truth. Maths don't miss, it was useless to lie.

"How do you simply fall into a conclusion like that? Prophecies of the Empire declining into a dark age after centuries of rising. Of our legacy!" he stopped again and went back to your figure, trapping your body between himself and the dining table. You felt his breath when he leaned close, the smell of wine and fruits mixing with his cologne was intoxicating your nostrils as the last tears flowed down your cheeks. Sooner or later, you thought he was going to end up with your life. You had nothing left to lose by now.

"It's simple history and logic. Everything that goes up has to go down, even empires."

All you felt was his big palm slapping your face, your back hitting the edge of the table. A hurted moan filled the room, and he forced you to look at him grabbing your chin with the same strenght he had used on you all this time, like you were nothing more than a doll to play with as he pleased.

"In other circumstances, I would find you amusing," he breathed gainst your lips. The touch of his thumb on your cheek, wiping away your last tears, contrasted the roughness of his words, his body between your legs and his weight pressing you to lie down on the surface.

"Psychohistory words, not mine," you whispered, your hands running to wrap around his wrist, but his aura repelled instantly your touch. It was useless to keep trying. So here you were, ready for Brother Day to end with your life in just the blink of an eye. "Maybe Brother Dusk made a mistake," you continued, giving up on leaving the room alive. "Make Hari Seldon stay instead..."

Brother Day pressed further against you, almost crushing you with his significant huge frame.

"Such a talented brain and mouth, why don't I put you to good use? I think I deserve it."

He forcefuly turned you around until you were bending over the table, a loud gasp falling from your mouth. One of his hands making its way between your legs caused your thighs to press together, trying to stop him, but it was impossible, so you had nothing to do but beg.

"Please, Empire," you felt like crying again at his touch, his fingers cupping your clothed pussy in a slow motion. "Stop, please-"

"Shut up, whore," he grunted, rubbing his crotch against your ass and slammed your face with his free hand so you had your cheek lying against the cold surface. "I had enough from you."

Heartbeat rising, you tried with no results to escape from his body cage. The sway of your hips caused Empire to grow eager. His slender fingers pushed your panties aside, coating them with your own wetness, and that was certainly something you did not expect to be down there. He hummed in response, rubbing your folds, and you exhaled once he entered one finger.

Your body responded to his ministrations, his growing erection pressing against the curve of your ass while he played with your cunt as he wanted, easing a second digit inside your walls. Probably you should just give in by now as you felt your muscles tighten, already reaching your high. Almost. The first moan of pleassure escaped your throat and you regreted the answer of lust coming from your body the following instant, your palms holding yourself on the table.

His long digits fucked you faster and your legs trembled, his thumb played with your clit so deliciously you thought you were passing out soon. He leaned down until you could feel his breath on your neck.

"Fucking take it," he groaned, feeling your warm walls pulsing around his fingers.

Almost not having control over your body, your legs further opened, like his voice just ordered you to do it.

"Please, please..."

Again, you cried and begged, not sure of the reason. For pleassure, shame, mercy... Anything was possible at that moment as whimpers and moans fell from your mouth.

The sensation grew stronger down your belly, feeling him exploring your insides too deep, touching a place no man nor your fingers reached before. It happened repeatedly, it felt so sweet and sinful. Like something you never knew but you were sure would leave you aching for more. His fingers making you so drunk and pleading for a release, and the seconds that passed by were endless until you finally blissed out with a loud moan, convulsing by the work of his hand.

Brother Day gave himself a wicked smile, watching you squirm and gasp. Such a strong orgasm he ripped out of you. He pulled his fingers away from your pulsing cunt and admired your wetness coating them before he raised the skirt of your dress and took off your panties until they were hanging between your ankles.

You grimaced at the feel of his big palms rubbing your ass cheeks, parting them to get a view of your throbbing heat, still clenching around nothing. You could listen to him undoing his pants. He hissed, taking his hard lenght to rub the sensitive skin of your ass and his thick tip teased your slit, sliding slowly inside. You gasped at the sudden intrusion as he stopped from filling you up completely, feeling your tight cunt embracing him.

"Empire, please not this-"

"This is how I prefer you," Cleon whispered on your neck, you stopped your plea. "Submissive and quiet. You are not so bold now, are you?"

And he slowly entered your pussy further. You whined, nails scratching the fine material of the table. You were so tight and warm. He had to control himself of not pounding into you right away. Being filled up by the Emperor shouldn't arouse your body like this, but your heat welcomed his cock like it was the perfect missing piece of a puzzle.

"Are you a virgin, maid?" he asked, hips giving a couple of shallow, slow thrusts. Your hips moved in sink with his own, your nipples were now hard and erect against the surface, scratching the fabric of your bra and dress, giving up into heavenly bliss. Sweet mewls left your lips as he stretched your cunt. And it was oh, so long since you felt this full.

"No, Empire."

Your response was the green light. He started to rut into you. Rough. Even if your answer was to be different, you knew Empire would not care. He used to get away with what he wanted, and right now he wanted you. His own grunts made eco along with the sound of his skin hitting your ass, your moans escaping without any shame now. The small amount of discomfort he caused was transformed into pleassure and arousal, keeping his hands firmly on your hips.

"Then you can take it, you've done this before," he mocked, increasing his rough pace.

His grip was strong on your sides, you knew his fingers would leave marks on your skin once you finished. But nothing mattered, you decided, the only on your mind was reaching sweet climax and release. You could not escape from him, not ever. So your body and mind could go through it.

Cleon's eyes found the perfect spot of view to see his cock entering and sliding out your perfect pussy, his shaft glistening with your wetness and his own precum. He stopped and pulled out for a moment, teasing with entering and pulling out, watching himself sliding inside your body.

"Oh gods," he listened to your broken moan, breath hitching.

He again cupped your neck with his palm, fingers roaming around your throat, forcing your back to meet his chest. Your moans were cut by his firm hand, air being a privilige as seconds passed by. He sucked and bit the skin of your neck, burying his cock until his balls met your ass repeteadly, finding that sweet spot of yours.

"Cum," he ordered. "Cum or you will not breath again."

You knew you were close, but you needed it faster. You needed to breath, as good as his cock felt, fucking you and splitting you open, you still needed to make it until the end. Your fingers found your clit and played with your bud as Empire bucked his hips fast and rough. Finally, your muscles tensed and forced a hard orgasm out of you, walls pulsing around his dick. He grunted, not slowing his thrusts, softening the hand around your neck allowing you oxygen again.

"Merciful am I?" he groaned and you felt his seed painting your insides, cock throbing as he also came from his high.

"You are, Empire," you breathed out.

Your back arched and you held yourself on his hands and chest. You heard the sound of one of the chairs being taken out, being dragged by him until you felt he sat down, you on his lap with his cock still burried deep inside you. His slick cum ran down your inner thighs as he parted your legs, touching your abused cunt and clit, feeling how you were still connected. He rubbed your pussy in slow, gentle moves, collecting his cum mixed with your juices. He offered his fingers to your lips, so you licked them as he wished, sucking them clean. Your walls pulsed again.

"So obedient now," Cleon purred.

His hands undid your dress to free your chest, groping your tits as he pleased. He played with your nipples, just like he had played with all of you in a few minutes.

"What will happen to me?" you asked in a murmur.

"Such a pretty cunt you are," Brother Day began, tracing kisses on your shoulder. His voice made you shiver. "You would please me a lot as a cuncubine of the Gossamer Court."

You swallowed hard, not capable of speaking or fighting back. He felt your body tensing so he continued his speech in your ear. "No worries, I can play with you some more before it happens. And you will tell me everything you know about Seldon."

[profoundbondfanfic]

Hi, I know you guys only searching for destiel fics but I'm just wondering if you guys also have any recommendations for dean acting like parent ish fic?

Hey! Here's some we could think of.

Fics where Dean doesn't consider himself a parent at first but ends up becoming one:

Kriah by ioascc

Dean can do this. He can. He can raise Jack Kline, Lucifer’s baby. No, not Lucifer’s… Cas’ kid. Their kid. With his mother gone, and Castiel dead, Dean finds himself hanging on by a thread. Castiel has died so many times on him, Dean is half-convinced himself that Cas will return to him. Dean evades the pain of the truth, carrying on in false hope until his soul renders into a million pieces. He learns quickly that taking care of a newborn is not for the faint of heart, sleep-deprivation, grief, and feedings rule most of the early days. During this time, Dean is forced to build a new life for himself. With a new name and identity change, Dean becomes a Dad. Something Castiel would be proud of. Dean cooks, he cleans, he reads, he sings his ABCs and 123s, and ultimately Dean does his best for Jack. It’s not until Jack grows into a small child that Dean feels like he can breathe again. The grief no longer suffocates him. His new life has meaning. He sees family and he allows himself to miss Castiel. To mourn him, to love him in death. And when Jack goes to school, Dean is once again reunited with friends and enemies from his past.

let's take a drive by sobsicles

Dean takes a really, really long drive to kick fear in the ass. It might just be the best thing he ever decides to do.

right in the palm of your hand by LoversAntiquities

Five years after Castiel's death, Dean has built a life in Murphy, North Carolina. A decent life, with a house he built with his own hands, and Jack, now five years old and beginning kindergarten in the fall. Only, after a string of failed relationships and sleepless nights staring at the urn on his windowsill, he makes an unwilling decision--to bury Castiel for good. Only, the night he and Jack bury Castiel's ashes, the unthinkable happens--Castiel rises from the dead, wounded from his time in the Empty, and with his resurrection comes questions Dean never thought he would need answered. Namely, how long will Castiel stay with him--and will the Empty come back for him, once and for all?

The Other Baby by DoctorProfessorSong

This is a canon-adjacent series of one shots in a world where Jack is reset as a baby and being raised by TFW. I am going to pick and choose canon at will and may not even be consistent between the stories. Seriously, it's just a bunch of fluff and angst surrounding babies and toddlers.

You Belong Among The Wildflowers by ImYourHoneyBee

Cas is gone and Dean doesn't know how to deal. Sunk deep into the worst depression he's ever been through Dean only pulls himself together when Jack comes to visit, intent on repairing his relationship with Castiel's son. Eventually, as a result of an offhanded comment Sam makes, Dean begins to dream of a better future and becomes determined to rescue Castiel from the Empty. It's a rough go, but he's successful and Cas is back. Fed nightmares during his time in the darkness of an angel's afterlife, Castiel doesn't believe that Dean is real. Refusing to speak or to come out of the literal closet, will Cas let Dean persuade him that he really is saved?

2. Dean helping with Cas' kids

A Little Grace by tricia_16

Castiel is well aware that a handsome, surprisingly gentle alpha like Dean was way out of his league even before he made the decision to become a single parent. Dean's been kicking himself for blowing his shot with Cas before he could even ask for it, and now Cas is happily taken (and adorably pregnant) by an alpha who doesn't deserve him. Neither one of them could have guessed that Castiel's baby would be what brings them together, but it turns out that a little Grace goes a long way.

Let Me Come Home by prosopopeya

It would be very inconvenient for Castiel to get a crush on Claire's foster parent.

Swan Upon Leda by kelsstiel

Pediatric Surgery Fellow Dean Winchester meets baby Jack Kline and neuropsychologist Castiel Novak his first week on the job. Dean’s been accused a time or two of caring a little too much in the past and it’s hard not to care about the neurotic adoptive father and his medically needy preemie. After a series of run-ins between the pair, Dean and Cas develop a friendship that everyone else around them suspect more from immediately, though it takes them a little longer to get the memo. When Dean struggles with a particularly devastating patient loss, their mutual understanding of loss and love bring them closer in a way that neither of them could have expected.

Start of Something Good by tricia_16

Dean Winchester is introduced to his new neighbor, Castiel, and his daughter, Claire, in an unexpected way. When an unlikely connection forms between Dean and Claire it also helps to push Castiel and Dean closer together. But Castiel has been hurt badly in the past and it's up to Dean to prove to Castiel that he can be trusted with both his daughter and his heart, even when outside sources try to make Castiel believe differently…

3. Dean acting like Sam's parent even though they're siblings:

Have Love, Will Travel by squeemonster

Castiel Novak is a reclusive writer with a childhood so tragic it's left him terrified to leave his home—until his overbearing brother, Gabriel, drags him out for a night on the town full of booze and strip clubs, and he encounters Dean Winchester, a mesmerizing and mysterious stripper with secrets of his own. Both men find themselves inexplicably drawn to each other, and soon Dean's private dances for Castiel become much more, as both men confess their troubles and find solace in each other's company. But neither can seem to find the courage to take their relationship further than the intimacy of the club's VIP Room—and just when Dean's own brother gives him the excuse he needs to finally admit his feelings, Dean discovers something that brings it all crumbling down. Will they find a way past their demons and their trust issues, and back to each other?

I Wanna Get Outside (Of Me) by emwebb17

Dean is a novice in the dom/sub world asked by his employer as a desperate last resort to be a sub for his recluse of a brother, Castiel. Castiel is a diagnosed OCD suffering from PTSD and agoraphobia, mysophobia, and dystychiphobia. Needless to say—he’s a mess who hasn’t stepped out of his home in literally seven years. The only times Gabriel can see traces of the way his brother used to be is when he feels in control—specifically when he has control over a sub. However, due to his idiosyncrasies and paranoia, keeping a sub around has been impossible. Enter Dean, who’s not a very traditional submissive, to try his hand at subbing for the hermit.

Proof of Love by VioletHaze

Working two jobs and doing his best to pretend his little brother wasn’t leaving for Stanford in a few months, Dean let his friend Benny talk him into a much needed night out. What started out as a fun evening at the bar ended with Dean drunk and face-to-face with a couple of cops outside a bakery. When the bakery owner gave him the chance to come back the next day and deal with his mess instead of going to jail, Dean knew he’d been given an opportunity he couldn’t squander. If only the blue-eyed guy didn’t seem to hate Dean…

White-Collar Contract by CBFirestarter, TrenchcoatBaby

Caught between the lesser of two evils, omega Dean Winchester is thrown into the orbit of Castiel Novak—a gorgeous, older, and incredibly wealthy businessman…and perhaps the only alpha who wants him for his brains, not his body. Castiel has no interest in bending Dean over the nearest surface and fucking his brains out, which is a first. Not that Dean cares about the alpha’s lack of interest. Nope. Uh-uh. He couldn’t care less.

[aloesarchives]

A Love that Haunts Beyond the Grave (JJK One-shot)

Warnings: Fem reader, Death, Mention of Blood, Violence, Grief, Reader is highkey still in mourning, Megumi being confused 24/7, Angst with no happy ending at all, Shibuya Arc

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Word Count: 2.3k words

Summary: What happens when the person that is attacking your son is his father and the love of your life?

Pairing: Toji x Fem/Mom!Reader(Romantic), Megumi x Mom!Reader(Platonic/Parental)

Pronouns: She/Her (Reader is referred to as mom by Megumi)

AU: Slight Canon Divergence Timeline (Reader is a sorcerer and minor teacher at Jujutsu High. The reader is Megumi’s biological mom. Tsumiki is Reader and Toji’s biological daughter. One of the Reader’s Last Names is Fushiguro but also their last name, like (Y/N) (L/N) Fushiguro.)

(A/N: Sorry that this is shorter than my other JJK pieces. I am trying to do more writings that aren’t super long or drag on. Also, because my ADHD prescription has been backordered until the 20th, my updates will be very inconsistent. I apologize for the inconvenience and drop in quality of my upcoming works!)

[Semi Proofread and edited on 12/13/23 at 8:02pm!]

As always, Please Enjoy!

The curses just kept coming and coming, everything was in absolute chaos. Though you can pull your own, the amount of curse energy manifesting was something you haven’t felt since your younger years. What was happening in Shibuya was unlike any other mission or event you've been a part of. The closest that could come to this is when Suguru decided to invade and wage an attack on the very school he attended. 

After getting separated from your son and his group, you desperately made it your mission to reunite and be there with him. You know your son is a very strong boy and can handle his own. With the guidance and training of Satoru, you could be sure he can be a sorcerer who stands up against those who oppose him. But this was different. Stronger curses, stronger and terrifying enemies you never had heard of, curse techniques and domain expansions beyond your understanding. This wasn’t anything a normal grade sorcerer would be up against, let alone be prepared for. With the news of Gojo Satoru being sealed reached your ears, you knew you were one of the few strong sorcerers left to be aiding in this dangerous conflict. Thus the desperation to find your son and keep him safe became unruly.

You zipped and flashed through the once lively city in search of any essence of your son. Scaling buildings, diving through empty windows of establishments frozen in time, racing on the concrete sidewalks with the only noise is your feet slamming against the pavement with the faint growls of grotesque curses echoing in the background. To your luck, or possibly your own fear, there were barely any curses in the streets to ambush you. While aimlessly running, your body suddenly immobilized itself at the sound of concrete breaking. You never had a super heightened sense, only through years of experiences and training. However, your body forced you to stay still as if it wanted you to hear what was happening. It would soon be in your favor as what followed was a small explosion with two people coming out of it. You recognized one of the silhouettes to be a young boy with blue spikey hair.

“Megumi?!”

You found your son but not in the way that you wanted. Like any good parent, you rushed to where you think Megumi landed. As you get closer, you hear glass shattering. Things crashing and being thrown around. Through a side street, you briefly saw Megumi being launched by a powerful force. You were, however, confused because you didn’t feel nor sense any curse energy. What the hell is Megumi fighting that’s bruly enough it doesn’t rely on curse energy? Making haste, you tried to figure out Megumi’s location but with him being thrown around, it was difficult to make a precise point of his location. 

You kept following where Megumi was going despite not knowing the entity that was manhandling your son. T the crashes and the chaos grow louder, You cut through any small side streets and alleyways to get closer. Sweat was beading down, cascading down your face, and your limbs ached from the amount of energy you exerted onto them. But it didn’t matter, none of it mattered when your son was endangered and possibly killed because you were too late. Oh, how you begged your body to keep on going just to save your son. After taking all the twists and turns, you took a left turn and saw Megumi. He was out of breath but it seemed he was trying to hold himself against the juggernaut he was fighting. Sprinting in full action, you ran down the alley and reached the street where he was cornered. Even if you were out of breath, your body mustered enough air to call for your son’s name.

“MEGUMI!!!”

“Mom?!”

You reached your son and used your body as a shield between him and whoever he was fighting. You looked back for a bit, to see if he was severely injured. Besides the cut under his left eye and the drops of sweat on his forehead and cheeks, he looked somewhat okay. You honestly didn’t care if you died protecting your son. If Megumi lived, you would be satisfied. You felt your body become light as you took a stance against Megumi’s opponent. You didn’t feel Megumi grip the back of your shirt and pleading out your name. You didn’t understand what he meant until the figure on the other side propelled himself forward and tried to impale you on his weapon. You anticipated an object thrusted in you only to open your eyes to see the figure look at you with surprise. Though he jumped back to the other end of the street, you caught the small horizontal scar on the edge of the man’s lips. It was like life played a cruel joke on you as Deja vu graced your body in the worst way possible.

“You…(Y/N)?”

“T-Toji…?”

Megumi’s brain was frazzled but he still was able to pick up you saying something. And by the look of Megumi’s opponent, he stood there frozen too. Megumi looks back and forth trying to figure out how to know who he is fighting. Was this an enemy from your younger days as an active sorcerer that matched you and your abilities? Or was this someone that scarred you from an event that caused you to stand like a statue? He couldn’t tell but by your reaction of wide eyes and slight agape mouth, this guy wasn’t someone to simply drop your guard. Megumi was trying to process the situation while you and what seemed to be your dead husband stared the other down.

How was this possible? Why was this possible? You were informed of the activities and whereabouts of your estranged husband twelve years ago. Of how one night out of the blue, Toji just left with no trace of returning whatsoever. Leaving you, Tsumiki, and Megumi behind one day and never bothering to return to the three of you ever again. You were told by your own junior and student, Satoru Gojo, that he killed your husband in an intense battle where he blew a hole in him. Telling you his last words were to look after his wife and children as you cried over the fate of your love. You thought you never got to see your Toji alive again, the last time you saw him was in the morgue where Satoru and Principal Yagi showed you the corpse of your husband to confirm his identity. 

Your denial was strong, stronger than your resolution to be rational. You saw your husband dead, pale, cold, and mortal as you saw his left arm and chunks of his torso were missing. Your husband was gone from this mortal plane. Yet, here he was. Your husband was standing in front of you like he was never dead, to begin with. Your body felt cold, shaking from the adrenaline that was produced, your breath lodged in your throat, and your heartbeats were all that you heard. A wave of confusion, astonishment, disbelief, sorrow, and anguish flashed over you. As you stood there, Megumi became even more disoriented. You were known for being calm and in control in battles and missions as he heard from his teacher. On the other hand, this was something he had never seen before. You weren’t standing in fear. No, Megumi couldn’t tell one feeling from you but multiple feelings washed over you like a wave crashing against the sea wall. Megumi couldn’t tell a single thing from you. You were his own mother, and yet he couldn’t understand what you were going through.

It was like you'd seen a ghost, and he didn't know he would be right.

“Mom… Snap out of it... This man is a perfected form of Maki-san… He’s too dangerous for us… If we don’t take him down, we’re done for… We need to fight together to win against him… Mom, please…”

To the untrained ear, it sounded like Megumi was commanding you. But the reality is, he was desperately pleading to you. Although you heard your son, his words fell on deaf ears. If this somehow was the Toji you know, you know he wouldn’t kill you. He didn’t recognize his son but he definitely recognized you, which meant he wasn’t going for the kill just yet. If he didn’t recognize you, he would’ve killed Megumi and you within seconds. But deep down, you knew your Toji was somewhere inside of whatever he was possessing, you think. As naive and in denial as you are, you took the risk and held out the fight just a bit longer. In hopes, the soul of your deceased husband could remember you. As the man that you believed was your husband stands the opposite of you, he just stares at the two of you. You fiercely yet calmly protect your son while Megumi's strong demeanor clashes with the sweat bullets on his forehead.

“You…boy… What's your name?” Toji bluntly asks Megumi.

Megumi’s guard drops a bit by the bizarre question the stranger asked, unbeknownst to him that he was talking to his father. He wasn’t sure about answering the question but he was intrigued by the nature of the stranger’s decision to ask.

“(L/N) Fushiguro…” Megumi hesitantly muttered.

“It’s not Zen’in…? I’m glad…” 

And with that, you watched as Toji stabbed himself in the head with his weapon. You regained your breath as you gasped at the action. Before Toji’s body hit the pavement with a splattered thud, you could have heard him mouth something to you.

‘’m sorry, (Y/N)...’

While your son’s mouth was open because of the absurdity of the situation, you could feel your own tears welling up. Megumi runs over to look at the corpse, he is shocked that it reverted back to the original host before Toji’s soul took over. 

“What the hell was that about… Mom…?”

Megumi looks over to see you crying. Your mind wiped itself off of any self-control as your knees collapsed to the ground. You were heaving deep breaths while small sobs escaped each time you let a breath out. Concern takes over Megumi as he runs over to you, asking what’s wrong. He would have asked who that man was and what is your relationship with him but right now isn’t the best moment for your current state. As you start to calm down, Megumi is right there hugging you for comfort. You couldn’t believe yourself. He was there, he was right fucking there in front of your very eyes! Standing there with his pompous and confident attitude. You thought you were over with this, having to come to terms that your love was dead and never return to you in this time. That you had already mourned the loss of your husband all those twelve years ago. But it seems like you never truly moved on from it.

When Megumi was younger, he would constantly ask about his father. After the news of his death, you never told him nor Tsumiki the real fate of their father. Tsumiki was an observant and smart girl, she knew the topic of her father was a sensitive one given your reactions. That’s why she stopped asking about him when she was young. It didn’t take long for Megumi to follow suit with his older sister. Slowly stopped asking about his father and grew a slight resentment towards him because he let you raise your two children alone while never giving a reason why. The days he remembered as a young boy of your crestfallen expression, how your smile never reached your eyes. The only time you did this was when you were spending time with him and Tsumiki. He never remembered his father or what he looked like. To Megumi, he was always out of the picture. It was just you, him, his older sister, and Gojo-sensei. That was his family. But he still couldn’t wrap his head around one thing. He remembered he asked how many people did you fall in love with before you met his father. Your answer always intrigued him because you told him that your first and only love was his and Tsumiki’s father.

He can never understand your love for his father after everything he put you through. But you never gave Megumi a definitive answer. All you said was, “When the time comes for me to be ready, I will eventually tell you, Megumi-sweetie”. As you start to gather yourself, Megumi felt his rationale wasn’t working as he was trying to piece this together to make sense of it all. As Megumi helps you up, you wipe your tears away and even out your breathing. You thought you were ready to tell Megumi the truth, the truth about his father and everything that led up to this point. But in the confrontation you just had with your deceased beloved, the confidence you had vanished and your readiness was replaced with uncertainty. As cowardice it was to admit, you knew the truth would come out sooner or later. But right now isn’t a good time to tell your son this. Right now, everything is falling apart and the best course of action is to regroup with the other. Perhaps when this is all over, you could tell your son the truth. He does deserve it, after all.

“Mom, are you okay? I don’t understand or know what’s going on… I don’t even know where that man even came from…”

“Megumi, honey. I know you are confused and have many questions for me. Unfortunately, I cannot answer them right now. What matters right now is we find the others and regroup with them. I’ll be fine, my dear. Now, we gotta go and find the rest of them in what’s left of Shibuya.”

You offered a smile for reassurance for your son. But your son knows you better, your smile didn’t reach your eyes. While he made that observation, he didn’t comment on it. He only nodded and followed your lead. With that, you and your son quickly trekked the empty Shibuya streets to find the others. However, what you and your son will soon find out is that the Battle in Shibuya will be known as a calamity in Jujutsu history and ultimately end in tragedy.

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Hope you enjoyed it! Have a wonderful day and don't forget to drink your favorite drink!

[irontragedyreview]

I was waiting for the official translation of this chapter because I wanted to know what meaning they were going to give to this phrase and since I don't know Japanese the most accurate thing I will get is the official translation.

At first I was going to take just Shoto's panel but in the end I decided to also take the previous one because the phrase "there's sure to be a period of chaos the books don't talk about", this phrase plus the way Shoto talks about the lack of a symbol and how a person like Afo born or emerges from them, it’s something that left me thinking and a little uneasy, because while I understand what Shoto says, it makes me wonder how much these kids know about their history.

What I'm trying to get is that the concept of Horikoshi's pre-Quirk society isn’t original, in fact it can be found literally in the X-Men comics, I would even say that you don't even have to go to the comics, The X-Men movies of the early 2000s showed us the pre-quirk society of bnha, the first scene of that movie is Jean Gray speaking in front of Congress against the anti-mutant registry, throughout this debate the question that makes Jean's words lose power is "Are mutants dangerous?", the question itself is unfair because Jean answers is that everything has the potential to be dangerous, even a teenager driving a car, the reply is that those cases can be regulated but mutants are an unknown and therefore a danger as they can’t be controlled. The original trilogy has this presentation to a society fearful of mutants, the end of the trilogy is the invention of a cure against the X gene, which is discovered through the experimentation of a mutant child (Chisaki arc). This is later taken up in the films that focus on being prequels, in X-Men days of future past where we meet Dr. Trask whose introduction is him explaining how the evolutionary chain of the human being was, how those more evolved ended exterminated their less evolved ancestors, the mutants here are the next evolutionary step and all those born without the X gene are the least evolved, who in Trask's words will only follow the same path as their ancestors before.

Now, whoever reads this will say "why is this story important and what does it have to do with Shoto's words?" Well, it's that Shoto's words, plus the panel that refers to those events that are outside the books, they make me wonder how the UA students know history, because they live in a society where the supremacy of the quirk is what is imposed, they didn’t live in first stages and we know little or nothing about how this stage is told to the generations that followed. Afo, Yoichi, Kudo and Bruce were born in the first glimpses of quirk society, however there is something that is interesting and that is that Kudo doesn’t represent a front against discrimination to people with quirks, they were a revolutionary army againts Afo, Yoichi himself never thinks about the discrimination and mistreatment of quirk people in the society in which he grew up, which is incredibly strange considering that he witnessed his brother killing a group that planned to kill them for recognizing that Afo belonged to that new generation of people. The pre-Quirk society carried out practices of discrimination and perhaps even death of people they considered dangerous, the majority of quirkless people in the old society were terrified of the quirks and their response was to attack the unknown. Ofc, we can only talk about Japan since we don't know what happened throughout the world, from what we can see the glowing baby was not considered dangerous in China, or perhaps there were certain quirks that were less inconvenient than others but in Japan we can see that there were groups against people with quirks.

Now, returning to Shoto's words, the big problem of the society in which Afo was born is not the lack of symbols, the chaos of pre-Quirk society was based on fear and discrimination of an unknown other. The times after the first stages are unknown to all readers, we only know what Horikoshi said, we also know that the society where Toshinori grew up and decided to become a symbol of peace was also very different. All Might is presented to us in the manga as the first symbol not only of peace but also as the first symbol of society, although Banjo is one of the first group of heroes who aren’t what we know as vigilantes (please correct me if I'm wrong). ), it isn’t until All Might and his long career that the society of heroes as we know it now is consolidated. All Might is the symbol and only pillar where this society stands and that explains how weak a symbol that shapes society can be, because once AM can no longer act as such, that is when society breaks down. In the movie Catching Fire there is a very interesting conversation between Snow and Katniss, where Snow tells her that Katniss' behavior cannot be ignored, because if people thought they could face the Capitol without fear, eventually the system would collapse and Katniss responds "what a fragile system if it collapses because of a few berries"

With all this I’m trying to say that having a symbol or not does not end up being a factor of true stability, AM or rather Toshinori renounced every aspect of his personal life to become the symbol of peace and bear the weight of society, but his figure was the only thing that kept society in order, the symbol of peace was fragile and only hid a broken and corrupt society, this isn’t AM's fault, the problem is that when Shoto talks about the lack of a symbol doesn’t finish internalizing that society with a symbol didn’t work either, because the symbol was only represented in a man and when he could no longer take his place, Endevor could have been the number one hero but he isn’t a symbol at the level of AM, no hero could fill that place.

So, is it the lack of symbol that allows chaos to be generated? Or is the function of a symbol to create stability? What happens when the symbol is more revolutionary and generates chaos or confrontation? This is where I may sound controversial but Afo could have been a symbol for the people he "helped", in a twisted way he was a symbol of refuge for people who were rejected and found with him a place to belong or even a solution to be found, someone that could take away the quirk that made them different in that society, Tomura is a symbol for those who didn’tt fit into society, we saw that when in the previous chapters he said that he wanted to be the hero of the villains, when we saw panels of people who said "Yes, Shigaraki destroys everything", Spinner is a symbol for the discrimination of heteromorphs even though Horikoshi neglected the issue.

So, in bnha there are symbols, the problem is that the heroes lost the symbol that gave stability to the society that they know, the society was sustained by covering its problems and creating its villains through the rejection and indifference of those who didn’t fit. The society of pre-quirks didn’t become chaos due to the lack of symbols but due to the systematic mistreatment of a minority where fear led to violence, Afo knew how to take advantage of those expelled at the time. It’s for all this that I wonder how much the UA students know about history and the formation of society, of course there could have been sides represented, for example like Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr, who could be symbols in that pre-quirk society but these wouldn’t have avoided chaos, since it’s formed by the discrimination of others considered different. The society of heroes in bnha doesn’tt need a symbol embodied in a person, it isn’t the lack of a symbol that generates chaos but the system, symbols can often be functional to the perpetuation of the same, instead of corrections to their shortcomings.

[coffeegnomee]

ugh sometimes watching Kab pov I get real sympathetic for how difficult it must be to be in her brain and just be so confused all the time and exhausted about masking her feelings to make other people trust her and her pain in wanting to be vulnerable and receive vulnerability and feel deep reciprocal love.

But then she says shit, really fucking mean and toxic shit towards mental health and healing and it triggers my own fight or flight and i become a ball of rage.

And like, I do get it. When you start your journey of mental health healing you often become the toxic one as you throw the shit people have said to you at everyone who also has similar mental health issues as you. (been there done that) Doing it to process your own rage at being told these things, or thinking, out of desperation, that if you can just get them to fix themselves quickly, you can fix yourself quickly. The bullied becomes the bully.

But then time passes and you realize this shit is hard to overcome. (or maybe it won't ever be overcome! and that's okay!) And you stop being toxic and you start being compassionate, to yourself and others. And eventually you start to heal and become confident in your own self worth and the validity of your emotions.

But before then it's the fucking worst place to watch someone be in. And that place is unfortunately where we are right now.

below is a short transcript of the convo this reflection is based off of. it can be triggering so like, don't feel obliged to read it.

11/10/24 kab vod: "I have no idea what's happening"

1:42:00 KAB: “what about how he makes me feel? Why is it so important what he feels and to accommodate everything he’s feeling? Why do i have to conceded to that???”

1:44:00 “I’m sick of having to accommodate to everyone else’s actions” 

realizing your masking is hurting you is one of the worst realizations (imo). bc the mask keeps you safe, but if you can't process or give worth to your real emotions, it's not serving you.

so she swaps from processing her own feeling to being angry at zam.

1:47:00 She gets he needs time and space, but “We don't have time for to try and sit and process your emotions properly. Do it after we deal with this fucking issue [...] sometimes you just need to toughen up” 

Fucking hell the trigger i just felt for just toughen up. 

1:48:00 “i need to know what he’s thinking so that we can work together. In a team!” 

what team!?!

“‘Does zam really hate communication more than he likes spawn and the server’ literally. Like pick your priorities dude.”

I’m going to fucking throw up. Because yes. Actually yes. Unfortunately and actually yes. He's gotten a lot better but like.

1:53:00 “I dunno. I wish he would care about himself as much as i care about him. Hard to see him like this [pause] maybe he does need more nurturing than i can give him bro ugh. I am just not- i am not good at that shit. I think it’s stupid [..] when you have a job to do [..] just shove your emotions away for a bit. And then you can process them later” 

I was going to say this is just eclipse, but I just realized that maybe it's just this is exactly the perception Zam had of Vi: that Vi just wanted him to move on when he couldn't. All his deepest fears of what Vi wanted from him are being personified into a new person. 

(also he is shoving his emotions away and that's why he's not processing it and giving you an answer for why he "doesn't know"????? but since he's not a perfect ball of joy and masking to you and because he is doing what you can't (shove emotions away) you are in rage)

1:54:00  “But it’s like, while there’s a life or death situation that literally determines the entire server we don't have time to be like, holding your hand, you know? Like, you're an adult” ughh fuck. being broken is inconvenient for others and age is seen as an invalidation to any of your real brokenness. If you're old you no longer have the right to be broken. Can we please change this narrative? thx

“If he cared enough he would actively try and do something to help himself in this situation” 

Interesting choice of words to say "he would try to help himself if he cared" complaining about others not "working" on themselves (and you can never know if someone is working on themselves bc you're not in their brain) helps nobody bc you can only control yourself.

“You just want to sit and feel bad about yourself” no that's what you're doing kab

“He got me to fucking open up to him and pour my heart out and is now turning his back on that entirely. That’s what i’m actually more upset about” 

oh the naive belief that because you pour your heart out to someone they must reciprocate. That is the risk you take when you are honest with someone about your feelings. They are at no obligation to reciprocate ever. Never ever. But that doesn't mean your feelings aren't true and it doesn't mean you shouldn't have done it. Love is a risk.

But also she feels she was forced into it. Forced to be vulnerable and she hates the vulnerability. She doesn't remember (or believe) that Zam promised to not use it against her. She isn't willing to give him the chance to not use it against her. He simply knows and that is a threat.

So love turns into spite. Instantly. And she doesn't want to talk to him anymore. And decides that she will just be fake to him.

oh girl. keeping the mask on doesn't help anything. 

“I’ve lost a lot of respect for him today. I’m done trying to impress him”

and so the mask returns. and healing stops.

[orkbutch]

Okay! time to add my accompanying essays with each image from this set of work about why I assigned which types of play to each set of characters, and how Baldur's Gate III supports these in the text of the game. Because I thought about all of this way too much im not joking

First, Context:

All of these are drawings of consensual play happening between these characters after they have put aside any active conflicts between each other. Nonetheless, they utilise the dynamics and emotional conflicts of these characters. Each of these characters are in some way violent people, deeply stressed out by their circumstances, and craving pleasure and connection. Sometimes you need a little pinch and squeal before the end of the world just to get through the night, you know?

Knife play; Shadowheart (D) / Lae'zel (S)

This is definitely the best supported concept in the text of the game because we literally see this happen, though in a significantly different context. I'd say most of us thought it was hot, whether we realised it or not, and I think Shadowheart and Lae'zel probably agreed once they weren't worried about dying! I think its the perfect encapsulation of the tension between SH and LZ both early on and as it resolves. It also expresses both their personalities very succinctly and accurately. SH is absolutely an edgy, paranoid goth, and LZ would love the thrill.

For all the early game SH sees LZ as ruthless and dangerous to her, and resents Gith for the death of her peers. LZ is a threat she wants to neutralize or at least control. At the same time, SH is someone who prefers to avoid conflict and subtly occupy power/advantage in most situations she finds herself in. She has little concern for honour, pride or fairness.

Lae'zel absolutely does. She is a very straight forward and efficient person. For her, SH starts as an inconveniently racist coworker, but at the reveal of the artifact SH becomes more than that; not only has she insulted LZ's people, she's revealed herself to be untrustworthy, very willing to lie and play dirty. Not only does SH seem to hate her, but SH has rules and intentions that are entirely unknown to LZ, and that is obviously frightening.

AND SO I JUST THINK... that potent history would be very hot background for fear based play, which knife play is all about. The heart-racing threat of the point of a dangerous object held at your most tender areas - throats, armpits, mouths, bellies... and the depth of trust and submission to let that occur, to sit in the fear and really enjoy the rush of danger and helplessness, knowing you will be safe. It shows a profound growth in their regard for eachother, a true and total overcoming of old resentments and conflicts.

This is not only a position I think SH would relish - to reduce someone as deadly as LZ to being at her mercy, and to feel deeply trusted with someone's life and pleasure - but also a rare delight for LZ. To take the heart-thumping threat of a battlefield, which she absolutely thrives in, and to toy with and explore that mental space. To be truly stripped back and placed in anothers hands. For that to be an enemy who has become someone she feels so completely safe with.

Beneath this I think there is also a thread of empathy and shared idiosyncratic communication between them. They were both cruelly broken into roles that made it difficult for them to connect to others. Violence is a language both of them understand very well, in different ways, and even after they each turn on their cruel masters, violence retains meaning for them.

For SH, violence is to be enacted and more often endured as a sign of devotion. It's something that carries wisdom, the agony of lessons learned and knowledge that is uncomfortable but ultimately good for you. I don't think this is something she decides is wrong. I think what disillusioned her (beyond the betrayal of being lied to) was how Shar was revealed to have misused her pain. Shar's pain was not a gift, it had no loving measure or purpose. It was a spiteful, excessive control tactic.

I like to imagine SH learning a new way to use her affinity with pain, which I think is a very normal affinity for people to have. To learn how to use pain the way she had wanted it to be used and had come to admire. To make pain bespoke from Shar, her own gift to give and recieve on her own terms.

For LZ, violence is to be mastered for survival and superiority. Pain was only endured to prove you could endure it better than others. Violence is a hammer in a world where all beings are nails, except you and the few other hammers. All else was forsaken for this mastery. Even in sex violence and superiority are key. Vulnerability is terrifying, to make yourself a nail made to be driven by hammers who are certain of their purpose.

What else could be a greater liberating thrill, a more profound sign of trust for LZ? Willing submission to the violence of another. Those she comes to truly love become the source of her bruises. In submission to violence LZ embraces true vulnerability, untethered by tradition, opening herself to another person and trusting them to handle her with care.

In conclusion: These bitches love knife play, it gets them super hot and they feel rly connected after and share wine and cheese and maybe a massage if they have energy as aftercare. LZ will be cuddled but only if SH doesn't ask and just does it. LZ always makes sure to tell SH she admires her skill and had fun. Its very sweet

[sparkcentralis]

hii sending u an ask so u can talk about branzycraft outside of that minecraft death post's tags if u would like 👀?

Anon you are a godsend. Ok. Listen. Minecraft death mechanics are one of the most Mechanics of all time in terms of character exploration. Here's what i want you to consider: Branzycraft is in the extreme other axis that of not caring for death at all and even encouraging it. His death means nothing! He doesn't fear dying, or the implications, or the pain, or the thought of it. What he is scared of is the after, the consequences that bites him in the ass, or a setback to a plan he has in motion, and many more. Continue below read more.

See echocraft. Branzy proclaims in his powder snow maze video: the gift for the winner of my maze is a chance at killing me! Isn't that fun? Surely you want to play my games and my traps if at the end you get to kill the one behind it all! And it works! He always offers something for incentive, for people to play his games and his schemes, and his life is simply just one of those incentives he's not above offering. After all, its just for fun! It's worth it to die if it means people have fun with his contraptions! In fact, isn't it thrilling? Having the knowledge that if any of these people pass, you'll be killed? How exciting, playing with his own life like he does to others! The danger is the entertainment, and he can't always get so lucky. But death doesn't matter now, does it? He'll just come back, all peachy, and then begins his next quest on amusing himself somehow.

Which brings us to lifesteal. The thing is, in SMPs, Branzy does not like dying when he did not plan for it somehow. He'd rather not die? Like, it would be a pretty big inconvenience, isn't it? Especially in lifesteal where your hearts literally Gets Stolen Away from you (or just. Extinguish away in the case of non-player deaths). Like. Its a pain! But he does not fear death like other people do, because he doesn't exactly fear death at all, he just finds it real annoying. He likes things going to plan, even though it rarely does, but this is One thing he can make sure Does Not Happen. Do you Get me.

In My view of Branzycraft, he's a bit of a lunatic that enjoys the thrill of danger, playing with lives both his and others. Why do you think he is so attracted to Clownpierce out of everyone else? He's deadly! And he keeps him on his toes that every day is never so dull! Eventually this morphs into a more tame feeling of [QUEERBAITING], but Branzy is a showman first and foremost, and I like thinking that the personalities he exhibits of video is showmanship. It makes him interesting. Branzycraft, traitor and coward, possibly something more? Powerful somehow because of his lack of fear surrounded by those way better at fighting than he is as he leans to trickery and traps to get the better of them in his own way? Everybody likes branzycraft! He sucks at fighting, you wouldn't fight him would you? Hes so easy to kill! So step into this death trap and you'll get yourself a heart!

Of Course though. This is just one interpretation of a character played by a Minecraft Youtuber that can also be interpreted in a different hundred ways..... Its what makes character analysis interesting! I like the idea of "Branzy who chases the thrill of danger and death while trying miserably to avoid unnecessary risks posed by dying" because its fun, comical, and it poses interesting thoughts and scenarios: what if he plans to die? The plan involves him Dying, would he take it? (He would. See: obsidian box) How far does his tolerance of death stretches? Truly the characters of Minecraft Youtubers are an interesting species.....

[yellowbunnydreams]

Mechanised Devotion (Part 8) ~Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader~

~I am staying up stupid late to write more for the big-man fan-club and I have ZERO regrets. Except maybe that paper I'm procrastinating on. I'll be making a masterlist soon so there won't be so much clutter on these posts linking to all the parts. Also, changed the title so that there was more clarity for people picking out this story~

Word count so far (all parts:) 14,593

Tag List!: @ruh--roh-raggy @likoplays

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), Female Reader, afab reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 40's), mention of crimes and violence, blood, mentions of child death (it's FNAF, what did you expect?), past trauma; abusive relationships. Trophy taking, panty stealing (never thought I'd write that), William being a perv, masturbation, voyeurism if you squint?

The weekend had been long and somehow all too quick after Steve dropped you back at your house. Handing you an envelope with your pay check in cash, apologising that it had taken so long to get to you, but there had been some delays since he had reported the Spring Bonnie animatronic supposedly moving and the owner needed to investigate. The pay check came with some elegant handwriting that apologised for the inconvenience, but that you should be made aware that the animatronic might possibly roam around still. Precautions would be taken to try and assure your safety however.

You scoffed as you read it, and put it down on your bedside table as you thumbed through the cash, eyes widening as you counted. There was almost two hundred dollars more than you expected, and you felt as if you were going to faint as you realised that the money was probably compensation of some sort. Silence money about what had happened at the restaurant.

Smiling to yourself, you wondered if you should treat Steve to a meal like he had done for you when you got the job. Thinking that that would be a nice thing for him. You touched the top of your head, patting it slowly as if trying to get the same feeling from where had patted your head so affectionately but your smaller, lighter hands couldn't replicate it.

Steve had handed you your uniform back as well, seeming sheepish as he apologised, it seemed that his old dryer had taken your delicates and eaten them, or possibly slipped in-between the drum and the motor in the back, which would basically mean that they were more than likely shredded up at that point. You'd laughed about it, telling him not to worry about it, it wasn't like it was your only pair after all. Raglan had laughed with you, despite the fact that as he spoke, he knew exactly where they were. They were in a little box on his bedside drawer, your name attached to a little tag tied carefully onto the cotton fabric. The date they had been 'collected' too. He wanted something of yours to recall that initial assault vividly with. A shudder had passed through his body as he wondered how many he could possibly take from you. How many firsts of yours would he end up being if you continued to feed his dark desires by being so naive about the intentions of the old killer.

It was with a great reluctance that you had pulled on thick work trousers and a blouse, the Freddy's jacket over the top as you got ready to go back to work. Steve had almost begged you to keep going, the owner clearly liked you enough to investigate the complaint, and having received a lot more money than you anticipated, you felt some obligation that you needed to return to Freddy's and continue being a good employee.

The walk felt longer than usual, but you supposed that they last time you had walked it, you had feared for your life. Tonight was slightly different to the last time you walked there, as a cop car pulled up and flickered the lights for a moment, forcing you to pause and wait to speak to the officer.

The tinted window rolled down and revealed a young woman who didn't look too much older than yourself. Her blonde hair pulled back in a severe ponytail and her grey eyes tired with bags beneath them despite the warm and friendly smile she gave you.

"Well I apologise ma'am, but you were speeding." She joked, making you laugh as you realised it was probably more a friendly check in than anything else. Relaxing slightly, you shrugged your shoulders and held up your hands in mock surrender.

"Sorry officer, I'll walk slower and more depressed next time." Watching as the cop cracked a smile before nodding over to the passenger side of the car.

"You work at Freddy's right, jump on in. I was heading there actually, it's on my rounds and I wanted to check in."

At the thought of not having to walk the rest of the way, you eagerly climbed into the car, clicking your seatbelt into place and allowing the cop to drive off towards the pizzeria. Glad you were out of dying sunlight and able to save your legs, especially since you would have to carry two bags back with you. A small pack with a toolkit inside it as you decided you were also going to take your own security precautions against the violent bunny.

"Hey, what happened to the back of your head? You're all bandaged up." The woman besides her frowned, glancing at you and staring as you reached up and touched the bandages on the back of your head. You were luckily mostly healed after a weekend of rest, but you felt self-conscious about it still.

"Oh it was um..an accident at work, don't worry, I promise I'm fine." You smiled reassuringly, adjusting your hair to try and hide the bandages a little better. Feeling your cheeks burning in shame as the woman made a non-committal hum before turning her attention back to the road.

The drive was mercifully short and you couldn't escape the car fast enough, hoping that the drive was informal introduction to the local law, but your stomach sank slightly as you watched the woman climb out too and lock up her car. Gesturing for you to lead the way in, she seemed confident as she moved through the hallways, knowing exactly where she was headed, which you supposed that she would considering she said Freddy's was part of her rounds.

"Have you seen them yet?" The blonde asked, making you raise and eyebrow quizzically and shrug your shoulders, that cold feeling in your stomach growing as she spoke vaguely.

"If you mean the guys on stage, yeah, you could say that." You sighed, heading into the office and feeling a little surprised as you noticed your possessions that you left in a neat pile on the desk, organised in a meticulous pile and your bag sat on your chair compared to the dusty flood where you had left it fleeing.

"The 'guys'." The blonde laughed, shaking her head and leaning against the desk as you flipped the breaker. Watching the monitors as you always did to see them power on, glad to see the camera that was down was also fixed whilst you were away. "wow, did your mom not take you to Freddy's growing up?"

"I'm not from here, so no, I had never heard of it until I got this job." You answer slightly curtly, anxious to see if the animatronics would move. Wondering if you would have to deal with a freaking out cop who was armed as well as things like Foxy deciding to try clawing down your door again. Pulling out a piece of paper and some crayons that you kept in the drawer, you began to doodle, making the woman raise a curious eyebrow.

"I'm Vanessa, by the way." You paused your movements and answered her with your own name, receiving a nod of acknowledgement from Vanessa as you continued drawing.

"So, what on Earth are you doing doodling on the job?" She asked, wondering what your answer was, recognising a crude picture of the animatronics, what she recognised as you and a crude picture of herself too. All with smiles and holding hands together. On another piece of paper, you drew another Foxy and a sad looking security guard, making sure to give Foxy red eyes and an open mouth with lots of sharp teeth.

"You'll see, potentially." You answered, looking up at the monitors and noticing that Freddy had decided to move from his spot on stage. Soon hearing the familiar 'thunk' of his footsteps and watching as he came into view of your door. Pausing quizzically outside with his ears wiggling, seeming surprised that your door was open and that there was another person inside.

Holding up the drawing of all of them, you showed it to Freddy, who seemed to look at it intensely before raising his eyebrows and doing his silent laugh and ear-wiggles. A sign you had interpreted as the animatronic being happy with some relief.

"You...You know about them?" Vanessa asked, looking shocked towards you, paling slightly as she glanced between you and Freddy in the doorway, leaving it your turn to frown suspiciously at the cop and cross your arms across your chest.

"And so do you by the sounds of it." Raising an eyebrow and trying not to crack a smile as you noticed the bear from the corner of your eye mimicking your expression somewhat.

"Uh... Yeah, I um.. I've known for a while, most people just...leave...when they find out about this though."

"Apart from Foxy and that creepy fucking rabbit, I've not really had any issues." You explain, shrugging your shoulders and taking a seat back at the desk, chewing at your lip as Freddy decided to wander back into the restaurant, seemingly content that you had company for the night.

"Bonnie is not that creepy." Vanessa said, scuffing her shoe across the floor, looking out down the hall and glancing up at one of the hidden cameras she knew her father had installed to keep an eye on the place.

"No, that spring Bonnie thing, the yellow one? Creepy as hell and a violent shit too." You laughed bitterly, reminding you to reach into your bag and take out your tool kit as well as some thick grating that you had picked up from a supply store.

Vanessa froze as you mentioned the yellow rabbit, her heart beating quickly in her chest and stomach sinking as she glanced over your injuries once more. The fading pattern of bruises across your throat making her feel sick to her stomach as she realised that it was all too familiar to her. And the fact you had a small scar across your cheek, she guessed it came from a blade, taking a deep breath and trying to steel her own nerves as she realised you had met her father.

At least, you had been convinced it was an animatronic, and not a person inside the suit.

"I'm surprised that thing still moves." She laughed nervously, biting her lip as she watched you working before she stood up, slapping her thighs and making you jump as you attempted to fit the new vent cover. "Hey, I got other places to check, but it was nice meeting you, stay safe you hear me?"

You smiled at her, and watched as she dug into her pocket, pulling out a business card with her number on it, handing it over and smiling with something like nerves making her eyes betray her concern for you.

"How about we meet in a few days, I can try to get you some more info on this place and you can possibly give you some tips?"

"Sure, that sounds nice Vanessa." You said, a little surprised at the offer, but accepting, watching the woman leave your office and heading towards the front doors your had both entered by. Shaking your head as you continued with your work after she had gone.

~~

Raglan had taken out the box from his nightstand as he watched the cameras on his laptop again, listening to your conversation with Vanessa with a frown. But he knew that his daughter had enough braincells left in her head to realise betraying him wasn't a great idea, smirking as he thought of you falling further into his tangle of lies and deceit. His fingers brushed over the box and he opened it cautiously, thick calloused fingers brushing against the delicate fabric that made up the panties he had taken as a little trophy, taking them out of the box, he couldn't held as his thumb ran over the thin fabric that would have laid against your sex. Feeling himself twitching in his pants with groan as he tried to imagine if you were wet for him as his fingers had wrapped around your throat.

He pawed at himself slowly, trying to get some relief from his rapidly hardening cock as he thought about how you had cried for him on the Friday night. Called his pretend name like some whispered prayer and fell asleep against him, oblivious to the knife being played with above your head.

The delicious way you had tried to fight against your own body as he drew that very same knife up the inside of you leg. How you had trembled like a scared little thing as your mouth hung open uselessly, a silent scream as he had felt his own heart threatening to beat out of his chest. He gripped himself through his slacks and stroked slowly, savouring the shivers that went through his body and biting his lip to stifle a growl. Steve could only imagine how pretty you would look choking on him, tears in your eyes and fighting to breathe around him. Maybe he would be kind to you and grip your shaking body close as he explored all the marks and scars he could imagine inflicting on your practically unblemished skin.

Growling frustratedly, he squeezed himself before reluctantly removing his hand and feeling himself throbbing hungrily. Glancing at the screen where he watched you taking a seat at your desk and throwing your head over the back-rest, making him hiss in delight as he ached to have his fingers back around your throat.

As much as he wanted to continue the fantasy in his head, he looked at his trophy longingly before running his lips over the fabric, imagining how you would flinch away from his hot breath. Or maybe how your soft thighs would squeeze around his head and let him listen to your racing pulse in your femoral artery, how easy it would be to turn and bite, letting the warmth spill across his sheets.

The throbbing in his slacks made him groan as if in pain, shakily putting back the delicate prize and letting the faint smell of you linger against him, focusing on the screen again to watch you through your shift. Licking him his lips as he let his hand wander across his groin again, breathing a little ragged as his fingers twitched around him despite the fabric separating him from his own skin. Still refusing to give in to the promise of release.

Steve Raglan was a patient man after all. And the thought of waiting in anticipation to ruin such a sweet thing made the wait all the more bittersweet for himself.

[genocidehim]

Can you make a part 2 for nacho falling in love with Lalo’s wife!!!

PS: I loved the first one 💙💙

TROPHY WIFE

part. 1 here

notes: Keep in mind that this part is directly related to bcs and the episode of Something Unforgivable, the facts will try to be as canon as possible, but I will change a lot of things. words: 2143

"Hay un portón en la parte de atrás del lugar de Salamanca. A las tres de la mañana esta noche quítale el candado. Ábrelo, lárgate de ahí"

Nacho spent the whole day pondering the instructions given in that unknown call. He knew they were direct orders from Fring, and he sensed that he would do something when Lalo was more vulnerable, and his house was the perfect place. Nacho seemed to agree with that plan and even looked forward to the night, but there was a major inconvenience: You were in the house along with a bunch of other innocent people.

No matter what Nacho said or asked, he knew he wouldn't have a chance to get you out of that situation because, unfortunately, you were also a Salamanca and a potential victim of Fring's plans.

Even though you and Nacho had only had some silly flirting and slightly heated words, neither of you believed the other was interested, so there was only a sort of odd friendship between you. But you had already wormed your way into Nacho's heart, and he was enchanted by you.

He was restless throughout the day as he thought and thought about that situation. He couldn't find a fair solution that would only involve Lalo's death and not yours. He trembled with fear at the mere thought of you getting hurt because of Fring's plans, and the fear of you dying was much stronger than Nacho's desire to see Lalo dead.

Nacho needed to find a quick solution, and as the sky grew darker, he felt panic and dread flood his body.

"What ghost did you see? You're all shaky." you said as you approached Nacho and gave him a big smile.

Nacho had been lost in his own world since morning and hadn't noticed that you had just returned from the horse stable. You were slightly sweaty from taking care of the horses all morning.

"I think I'm just a little hot. It's quite sunny today" Nacho managed to look good, but he had that worried face as always.

"In Albuquerque it's not sunny or what? Man... you're a softie, you need to get some good sun in Mexico".

Nacho felt his heart beat faster as he saw how your relationship had become so strong and trusting. He adored how you treated him so naturally and enjoyed your sincere words. He couldn't imagine not hearing from you again; he didn't want to.

"I'll have time to get used to it."

Before you could respond with a tease, Lalo's voice in the distance caught both of your attention. "¡Ignacio, ven y ayúdame a reparar una cosa por acá!"

"I'm sorry, Lalo needs me..."

"It's okay, go," you smiled in response, but before he left, you took his arm and held him back for a second. "Lalo will have dinner at the house tonight... You should come down and eat with us. I'd like to have you at dinner."

The way you looked at him made Nacho's heart melt, and guilt struck harder in his chest.

"I will. Save a seat for me next to you."

Nacho bid you goodbye for the moment and went to help Lalo with cleaning the engine of his Montecarlo while trying to keep his mind clear and come up with an effective solution for what would happen that night.

It was already quite late, almost two-thirty in the morning, when Nacho remained awake and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He was desperate and paced back and forth in the kitchen, debating whether he should continue with the plan or sabotage everything. But it was impossible for him to think clearly when he knew that if he didn't act quickly, he would die that night too.

Nacho decided to stick to the plan and open the gate of the house. He managed to cut a tin can and took small pieces to pick the lock. After checking the time on the kitchen clock, Nacho headed to the backyard, and before he could react, he found himself face to face with Lalo in front of the bonfire, drinking a beer. Ignacio sweated and hid the pieces of tin in his pockets when he saw Lalo invite him to sit beside him.

"Take a seat."

Nacho sat on the wooden chair next to the bonfire, feeling his heart pound forcefully in his chest. Lalo grabbed a beer and offered it to him, looking somewhat calmer than usual.

"Are you still hungry?" Lalo spoke with a playful tone in his voice.

"No, it was a good dinner" Ignacio replied as he took a sip of the beer and tried to loosen the knot in his throat.

Lalo laughed in response and kept watching Nacho with some joy in his eyes. He was really starting to like him.

"She really knows how to keep a man at the table, huh?" Lalo mentioned you, and something inside Nacho made him feel awful knowing that you were asleep upstairs. "I never understood why she enjoys having dinner together so much, but if it makes her happy, well…"

Nacho couldn't understand how Lalo was incapable of understanding you. Was his ego so big that it prevented him from seeing beyond his own desires? It was obvious that you enjoyed having dinner with everyone for the feeling of being in someone's company.

"She must be a family-oriented woman…"

"She was like that when I first met her, but I think she no longer sees her family... They hate her for marrying a narco. Ugh, son puras pendejadas de la plebe" Lalo revealed as he scratched his mustache with his finger, apparently feeling confident enough to talk to Nacho about you.

Lalo wasn't even aware that you had no contact with your family because of him, and he had no interest in acknowledging that simple fact. He probably imagined that you were fine with the whole situation.

"She's somewhat lonely" Lalo continued. "I'm not complaining. She's quite intelligent and a good wife. I couldn't ask for a better woman than her, but she's somewhat... complicated, you know?"

Nacho tried to hide his expression of disgust and shook his head.

"You know, she demands a lot of attention... Sometimes she seems like a child" Lalo shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "She should have friends and go out or something, but she's at home all day waiting for me to return."

"I imagine it must be difficult for her to have friends while being your wife... right?"

Lalo observed Nacho for a moment and paused to silently contemplate what he had said.

"It could be... Maybe she's just as distrustful as I am and finds it hard to trust other people" Lalo smiled as he reached the conclusion that you were as reserved as he was. It only made him feel more secure to have you by his side. "But it seems like she really likes you."

Those words made Nacho's skin crawl. Was Lalo aware of the strange friendship you two had?

"I'm glad she gets along with you. Maybe someday you can introduce her to those pretty girlfriends you have, and she can make some real friends."

Lalo laughed at his own comment, and Nacho tried to play along while realizing that Lalo didn't suspect or feel threatened by his presence with you. Lalo's ego was probably so big that he couldn't feel jealous of Nacho. Or perhaps he trusted you too much and your loyalty to him.

Suddenly, Lalo fell silent and sat up straight in his chair, appearing attentive and alert. Nacho swallowed hard and quickly glanced at his phone to check the time: 3:37. He had missed the deadline to open the gate.

"Did you hear that noise?"

Nacho remained silent and looked towards the gate he was supposed to open thirty minutes ago. Lalo noticed that Nacho also sensed something was wrong and decided to focus all his attention on that spot.

Nacho felt out of himself. He had lost the opportunity to escape; he should have left before Lalo had kept him entertained. But he couldn't blame him. When the memory of the dinner with you invaded his mind, he became lost and forgot about everything else.

"Someone is stepping on the leaves outside…" Nacho whispered, pretending surprise.

"Chingad-… Go call Miguel and tell him to get the boys ready."

Nacho nodded and stood up from the chair. But before he could take another step, Lalo mentioned you, "Go to her and make sure nothing happens to her. Grab the revolver on the nightstand next to my bed and protect her."

The orders were clear, and Nacho felt a great relief knowing that he could ensure nothing happened to you. He quickly ran towards the house and informed Lalo's guards to be on alert for his instructions. Nacho began to climb the stairs of the house towards the master bedroom…

Ignacio hesitated, his hand on the doorknob, unsure if he should enter or not. He didn't know how you would react to being approached by him in the middle of the night. But when gunshots started ringing outside the house, he hurriedly pushed the door open and closed it behind him. He went straight to the nightstand next to your bed and searched for Lalo's revolver.

"Ignacio…?" Your sleepy voice snapped him out of his trance and made him look directly at you.

Nacho almost let out a sigh as he saw you in soft, almost transparent pajamas. Although he wished he could admire you in detail, he quickly reloaded the revolver.

"You have to stand up…. They are attacking the hacienda".

Your look of terror became more pronounced as you heard the sound of bullets and the noise of the garden's metal gates opening.

"Where's Eduardo?!"

"He's downstairs. He asked me to keep you here..." Nacho approached the bed and helped you get up. "I need you to stay behind me at all times... Is there a bathroom here?"

You nodded, trembling, and pointed shakily to the bathroom next to the bed.

"Good. Listen... Go into the bathroom and stay there while I guard the entrance, alright?"

"W-What?! I don't want to be alone, please... Come with me."

Fear flooded your body with each noise from outside. The sound of gunfire and Lalo's men shouting made your body tremble with fear. Nacho noticed this and felt his heart constrict. It was the first time he had seen you in such a vulnerable state, and a sense of protectiveness grew within him.

"Alright... Let's go to the bathroom, but listen to me: if they manage to enter, I will have to go out, but you have to hide. I will try to buy you some time to escape and find a hiding place."

"But Ignaci-"

"Only if they manage to enter... Come, follow me."

Nacho offered you his hand, and you held it tightly as he guided you to the bathroom in the room. Once inside, he locked the door and stood in the middle of the room, still holding your hand tightly. With each sound of gunfire, the tension between both of you grew, and terror filled the dark bathroom. You couldn't see much, and the only sense of security you had was the warmth provided by his strong hand.

"Nacho…" your whispering voice called to him, and he turned to see your frightened face in the darkness, trying to make out your features.

"Stay calm… Nothing is going to happen to you. I won't let anything happen to you."

"And Lalo?"

"Lalo will be fine… You are the priority now."

Those words struck deep within you. The way Nacho was trying to make you feel safe and prioritizing your well-being, it all made you feel… important.

You were his priority. He was looking out for your safety and making sure you felt good by his side. The sensation of his hand holding you tightly, how his entire demeanor was focused on keeping you protected… And even though the situation was terrifying, you felt an incredible sense of happiness.

As the sound of bullets intensified, you moved closer to Nacho and wrapped your arms around his torso, seeking some security in his touch. Nacho felt his heart skip a beat as you got so close, but he remained steadfast for you. He enveloped you with one arm while holding the revolver with his other hand.

When the noise and gunpowder ceased, a sense of calm seemed to settle over the hacienda, and all you could hear was the sound of your heart pounding in your chest.

Both of you heard a knock on the bathroom door, and Lalo's voice seeped through. Ignacio quickly opened the door, revealing a tired Lalo with dirt on his clothes, completely sweaty.

Nacho let go of you, and he watched as you ran towards your husband, embracing him tightly while Lalo reciprocated and reassured you.

He felt empty, but he couldn't say anything about it.

[fractal-quadrilioquy]

Zhaitan | Mordremoth | Kralkatorrik | Primordus | Jormag | Soo-Won

So, I've been working on a project for the past year few weeks, which is interpreting and converting the Elder Dragons into spirits for the board game Spirit Island!

For those who don't know anything about Spirit Island, imagine all the games and stories about explorers and colonisers finding a new, untouched land and claiming/ruining it for themselves - from the perspective of all the spirits of myth who are Very Real and are Quite Angry At This.

In this world, the Elder Dragons aren't primordial, integral forces of the world - Much smaller in scale and not prone to the madness of the Void, but still holding power over their domains. As Zhaitan is the Dragon of Shadow and Death, I felt the name To Wake Beyond The Dusk fitting, with people revived under its command.

(Apologies for the Presence Track formatting; the first space is always active, and the last space that gives any element + 4 card plays is meant to only be unlocked if you have maxed out both the presence tracks up to that point.)

(Lore descriptions and thoughts under the cut!)

---

To Wake Beyond The Dusk

The horizon of death is one that none can evade. What happens beyond that horizon, however, is… uncertain.

Since the Invaders arrived, there have been stories of life-from-death, Dahan and Invaders alike pulled from the dark. Common among the Invaders, however, are those whose demise - temporary though it may be - never leaves them, haunted by a song of dust and rot, heralded in the beat of tattered wings.

Many count their blessings, all but rejuvenated once more. Others wonder, hesitant, for there has never yet been a spirit of death wholly altruistic in nature - For what purpose does this spirit wish for them all to wake beyond the dusk?

Play Style

Doesn't mind - and often thrives - when blight is added to the island, able to influence and often control when and how blight spreads. Destroys and restores its presence to generate fear and gain Power Cards, dredging up whichever tools will be useful to it at any given time.

---

Zhaitan is one of my favourite Elder Dragons, and I loved trying to portray him right. The most notable thing about him, for me, is how he lingers - Years on from his death at the hands of the Pact, and yet his minions still control much of the land that he claimed. We see this in Siren's Landing, in Orr, near the heart of his power - and in Old Kaineng, all the way in Cantha. His presence lingers long after his death, and the Pact campaign against him lingers in many of our minds, responsible for both the tragedy at Claw Island, and the first moment of triumph against the Elder Dragons.

Death is only a minor inconvenience for an Elder Dragon who can command it. I've represented it here by the cycle of destroying/restoring presence, Zhaitan getting stronger as the game goes on and the island gets progressively more ruined, without ever quite tipping over the island's health - Though he certainly doesn't mind if it does. Learning from all this destruction gives him a large amount of Powers, but he is somewhat limited in how many of those Powers he can actually use.

In this world, I don't think Zhaitan makes important distinctions between "Alive" and "Dead", and those who return likely don't wish to question it too much, lest he take it away again.

For elements, I focused on four main ones, split into two categories. Moon and Earth, representing fear, darkness, and solidity, in order to cause fear; Plant and Animal, representing regrowth, life, and vitality, in order to renew and command. I've also given a minor influence of Sun and Air - Sun because of the fun symbolism of Sun/Moon when his name is To Wake Beyond The Dusk, and Air to push into lands that aren't blighted (...yet).

[thantoloveandtobe-lovedbyme]

Yeah no, Pluto definitely did not die from suicide. At least, I don’t think so.

The world of Nevermore is very, very influenced by Edgar Allen Poe. For example, Prospero. In the original Edgar Allen Poe short story “The Masque of Red Death”, he was a prince, which could explain how prim and proper he acts in Nevermore, and he died from the Red Death, which at the beginning of the story is stated to be a plague. I wonder whose spectre is a plague doctor. Also, Fortunato, Duke’s stage name, was a character in the short story The Cask of Amontillado, who dies from being trapped in a wall. Sounds familiar? Anyways, my point is, a lot of names and deaths and details are inspired directly from Edgar Allen Poe.

Now, Pluto. Our beloved British catboy. Coincidentally, the name of a cat from my favorite Edgar Allen Poe story; The Black Cat.

The Black Cat is not one of the cuter stories of Edgar Allen Poe’s works. It starts with a man; he loves animals and finds a wife who loves animals too, and they both adopt a plethora of animals together. One of them in particular takes a liking to the man: a black cat, named Pluto.

The man’s life begins to go downhill when he starts becoming an alcoholic. He begins to abuse his animals just for the perverseness of it, and he becomes a lot more mean-spirited than the person he was before. One day, he comes home, and thinks that Pluto is ignoring him. In his annoyance, he forcibly picks up the cat, causing the cat to bite him slightly on the finger. This small inconvenience causes the man to become so enraged that, in his anger, he takes a knife, and gouges out Pluto’s eye.

Obviously, after this, the cat is positively terrified of the man. He avoids him as much as possible, but after about a week, it seems his eye injury has healed and is doing him no harm.

Then, just for the pleasure that doing the wrong thing gives him, one morning, the man takes it upon himself to finish the deed and hangs the poor car in cold blood.

That’s the end of the relevant section. If you want to know the rest of the story, I would recommend reading it-just search up The Black Cat by Edgar Allen Poe online and you can easily find it for free.

Anyways, what does this have to do with our beloved Nevermore Pluto?

Well, besides from the obvious similarities that Pluto shares with the Edgar Allen Poe cat, what stood out to me the most was the nature of the man. In episode whatchamacallitimtootiredtofinditrightnow, it is revealed the Pluto’s father is an alcoholic. Not only that, but enraged that Pluto wants to leave home and see the lights, he gouges out his son’s eye. Again, very close to the story. I wonder what the man did next to Pluto in that story?

I suppose it could be implied suicide due to the fact it was awakened in Pluto when he felt relieved, but remember in the story how Pluto’s eye injury had finally healed before the man killed him? It may be a far cry, but I believe that Pluto could have finally thought he was free from his father and that he made it out of his house before his father found him again and hung him. Finally relieved before it is yanked away from him. After all, that’s what he did in the story, and when he experienced the flashback of his death, he didn’t think or feel the thoughts of a relieved suicidal person (as memories of the time seem to slightly return during those flashbacks), but rather panic and fear, which would be odd if it was a suicide that made him feel finally relieved.

Also, he died wanting to go beyond the binds of society and what humanity deems is possible. If he had such a strong dream that he absolutely wanted to make happen, even present while dying, why would he kill himself and destroy his opportunity?

Honestly, I would also find it odd at this point if that wasn’t what happened. After all, the authors have been very accurate to the poems and stories of Edgar Allen Poe for the characters ripped from them. Again, Prospero and Duke, Eulalie has lavender eyes as described in her poem, and Berenice has a very heavy teeth theme like in her story. Not only that, but after following the story of the Black Cat for so long in Pluto’s backstory, I would find it odd if they changed the one thing that both Plutos were killed by if they were so accurate with Duke.

But who knows?

Perhaps I ramble like a madwoman.

[captain-mj]

Had a not good, very bad, terrible day today and was hoping for some escapism on tumblr. And I damn near cried in relief when I saw part 4 of the monster handler AU. Thank you.

I will not threaten you for your bones, but I will celebrate a part 5 when it happens ❤️

This is so sweet! I've definitely been there so I'm happy I could provide some escapism

Part 4

Ghost had slipped on the gear. Luckily, he didn't need to bind his wings or muzzle himself since they were on a mission. What was the point of making monsters with big teeth if they can't use them? Even if Ghost still wore a mask and therefore couldn't use his teeth. None of the bigshots upstairs had connected the dots there.

None of them had put together that he also easily could take both of those on and off himself and didn't require help. They considered it self sufficiency, completely missing that it defeated the purpose of them. A leash isn't helpful if the dog isn't tied to anything.

Not his problem though. It meant one more thing he didn't have to ask... Soap about.

They had their first mission today. It was... stressful. Not for Ghost of course, he'd just do whatever he needed to do. But Soap was stressed and that was annoying.

He kept glancing at Ghost and his lips would occasionally move.

"Out with it."

"I just want to make sure this goes well, ya know?"

"Why?"

Soap stalled and stared at him. "Well, we're friends, yeah? I'd like to stay around."

Ghost hummed. "I don't do friends. Not in the field manual."

"Neither is mask making." Soap glared at him. It caught Ghost guard and he just stared at him blankly for a minute. He saw his reflection in Soap's eyes. His giant eyes blinking back at him.

Ghost huffed out a laugh and it caught Soap off guard. He smiled at him. "Think I'm funny?"

"No." Ghost turned away from him. Soap was still staring, but Ghost ignored him. "So. Follow my orders. If you see something, say something."

"And if you need me, say something."

"Won't need you."

"Never needed Price?"

"No." Ghost lied. During missions, the term handler meant nothing. At least to him. Maybe others like him needed to be coddled and got worked up, but not him. He just did his stupid job. After missions was different.

Fuck.

What would he do after this mission? He couldn't go to Price. Ghost was still mad at him. Would Soap have something he does? If that man tries to do some silly bullshit to "take care" of him, he'd eat him alive for the inconvenience.

They had to clear a building. Simple enough.

Ghost went through the hallways, listening. Unlike his human companions, he could hear the heartbeats of all the hostiles in the building. A few of them had such loud breathing that it almost over shadowed it. He followed Soap, a piece of death itself.

A hostile stepped down, clearly planning to attack Soap, and Ghost grabbed him and dug his blade into his throat. He felt his blade enter his flesh and bleed him out.

Soap looked back at him, eyes falling on the silent body.

"Didn't even notice."

"S'why I'm here." Ghost growled and he could see the hair on the back of Soap's neck stand up. Goosebumps going up and down his arms.

Soap decided to just nod and continue. Smart man. Ghost followed closely by him. He could admit that Soap was good. But he knew that from their first mission. Soap moved lethally.

Another person down. Soap's bullet going through their skull. Ghost moved quickly, circling around Soap and keeping him safe from any stragglers. They fell into a rhythm. Soap moved and Ghost shadowed him. Someone tried to shoot him and Ghost dragged them into the rafters.

Ghost may hate what had happened to him but it was a bit fun. Watching people's fear at him. When it was someone he wanted to be afraid.

Blood poured to the ground and he fell back to the ground to continue.

At some point, they were done. No more people. Someone else had found what they came for so Ghost didn't have to deal with it.

Like an omen, the jitters set in as soon as he got in the helicopter. They were worse than usual. His whole body buzzed with it. He needed to do something.

Soap followed after him. "Okay, get your gear off."

Ghost stared at him. If this little bastard though for one goddamn minute that he was going to be that fucking easy

"I need to check for injuries. Stop glaring at me."

"I can check myself."

"I have a report to fill out."

"Just mark uninjured!!" Ghost was getting irritated. His skin started to crawl and his muscles twitched with the comedown.

Soap stared up at him, mischievous thoughts bubbling behind his eyes. "Are you suggesting Price lied on the reports?"

Ghost couldn't handle this right now. He started to strip his gear. "Just hurry up. You know he fucking lied on it." His clothes stayed on though, the tactical pants, love sleeve shirt and his mask.

Soap was quick. Thankfully. His hands skating over Ghost's back through the fabric.

"Okay. You're good. Now how can I help?"

"What do you mean?"

"Price mentioned you struggle after missions." Fucking Bitch. "so how can I help you?"

Ghost crossed his arms. "Can't. I'll deal with everything myself. Just go fill your fucking reports."

Soap sighed. "Ghost, I understand this is a big adjustment and I want to say your feelings are completely valid. We just think this is what is best for all of us."

"Stop. Stop. Why are you speaking like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're.... what website did you get this from?"

Soap blushed. "I didn't get it from a website."

"Fine. What did you look up?"

"...how to help your child deal with divorcing parents...."

"My parents got divorced. I've heard this spiel. You... You really..." Ghost was flabbergasted. The fact that Soap not only looked this up to help, but also looked it up like that was... "Listen, listen, I... You can't really help, okay?"

"Could Price help?"

"I don't want Price's help."

"Could someone else help?"

"No." Ghost couldn't tell if he was mad or amused. Soap was persistent that was for sure. "What were you going to say next?"

"That we all still care about you and that Price will still be around to assist."

Ghost covered his face. "You're... so smart. You have to be. How can you act this dumb." He tried to stifle his laughter, hating that Soap was so effortlessly funny.

Soap was starting to smile. "C'mon..."

"Fuck off, MacTavish." Ghost patted his head, ruffling his mohawk. "Go away. I can handle myself this time, yeah?"

"Next time?"

"If you're lucky." Ghost left him alone. In actuality, he could not handle it himself.

He did planks for almost an hour and then went to the gym to punch one of the bags until he felt his gloves getting wet. He'd have to learn to exhaust himself. No one else could help.

Looking at his hands, now bleeding with bright white bruises forming slowly, he realized he'd have to learn faster.

[bodyalive]

The Consciousness of the Heart

I am a big fan of public television mysteries, especially those made in Europe. Good acting, intricate plots. So here’s a summary of a French mystery I just saw:

A woman gets a heart transplant and immediately begins having nightmares involving the heart donor and her own teenaged daughter, whom the woman and her husband had adopted at birth. Turns out the heart donor was a young woman who died in a car crash, but the nightmares indicate to the woman that the girl’s death was not an accident.

She meets the adoptive father of the young woman; he too believes his daughter’s death was no accident; so they team up to find out what really happened; her teenaged daughter gets pulled into this detective work too.

We find out that both daughters had issues about being loved related to being adopted. Lots of twists and turns in the story due to this, after which...the new heart comes close to failing. But, seeing her mom so sick, the teenaged daughter realizes how much she loves her mother. The young woman’s father becomes aware of how he tried to push his daughter into a career in medicine (his career) rather than letting her be the singer/musician she wanted to be.

In the only way that he can communicate with her now, the father places his hand on the woman’s chest above his daughter’s heart, and, speaking to his beloved deceased child, apologizes to her heart for his lack of awareness of her needs when she was alive.

You can guess the rest: The transplanted heart settles down, the woman gets better, the teenaged daughter gets over her own anxieties —and by the way, they catch the man who murdered the daughter by forcing her car to crash.

Well, it was way better than it sounds.

But here’s what really caught me—that scene where the dad talks to the heart of his daughter. As if the heart carries its own consciousness and he was able to communicate with it.

Even more than European mystery dramas, I love stories about consciousness-- there’s a literary conceit that involves a body part being transplanted into another person and taking control of the hapless recipient—say, someone gets a hand transplanted from an executed criminal and the hand takes over to steal or murder –sinister stories, even tales of horror.

An alien consciousness inside one’s own self. We are familiar with this theme. And part of what makes these stories work is the notion of the implied consciousness of the body part, the power of the body part, for example, of a hand that has its own mind.

In our age, we are used to the notion that consciousness dwells in the brain, we don’t find that strange at all. But many peoples have believed that consciousness dwelt as well in the heart. The heart responds by quickening, by aching, by urging action, or by relaxing into peacefulness. It rises up to greet its love; it sinks into despair. It feels. It seems conscious. Now we can trace the complex biological directives that guide the heart’s functioning, the chemicals and mechanisms that control it. But still, subjectively, the heart feels.

We have a complicated relationship with our hearts from this perspective. The heart as a conscious part of us that may have inconvenient feelings. It is in a sense an alien consciousness within us. I am speaking of course of emotions. And how we can harden our hearts, turn against tender feelings, deny that affective link. I’ve done it and I bet you have, too. Other emotions are there to step in—rage, fear, greed, lust.

Dr. King said he could not figure out how to reconcile the contradictions in humans (we can be so good and also so evil) until he recognized the power of love, which must be our guide.

I had a hateful spell the other day. I was, as my mother cautioned me against in the past, “being ugly.” Judging somebody harshly. Thinking about a situation that had come up that was not gonna be easy to resolve with some other people. Money was involved, of course. Odd how that often happens.

Several of us talked together, trying to come up with a solution. Someone suggested a generous resolution and then someone else countered with another generous perspective. That night, in bed, I lay there imagining how this conflict could maybe turn out to be a victory for love. I crossed my hands over my chest, above my heart, and breathed.

[Lynne McFarland]

[clonerightsagenda]

Time to finish off Scavengers Reign!

Hey Kris, you look kind of… scared. Thought fear was for the weak. Thought you'd mastered it and left it behind. What happened to all that?

Oh hey Mia's still alive in there

I'm not sure that shuttle looked big enough to fit everyone in cryostasis. What are its air scrubbers rated for? How close are they to a liveable station?

Azi don't let her manipulate you, "are you really going to kill me in cold blood?" she legit just said she wanted to kill you in cold blood.

Psychic baby has the incredible diabolus ex machina power to appear whenever it would be most inconvenient

Woo, Barry standing up for himself!

A few details suggests Kris might be from a colony that was abandoned or cut off (maybe their corporate sponsor fell through? they stopped making payments?) which would explain why she is so desperate to get more supplies, but you'd think it would make her sympathetic to other people who are trapped. Unfortunately though looking at a lot of human history, being the victim of suffering does not make you more likely to treat other people better. There's no guaranteed ~silver lining~. It just means you went through something shitty.

"When did you become so selfish?" God her exact brand of transparent manipulation really gets on my nerves. Maybe she's so twisted up inside and fixated on her goals that she genuinely sees anyone else having feelings/motivations that make her life harder as being selfish because how dare they get in the way of what is important (what she wants)

Oh shit that's right Azi worked in cargo!! Your fave IS forklift certified!!!

A shot of the death lily fungus in the escape pod… what died in there? (Also wonder if the lily resemblance is because of lilies being a flower of the dead/representing the soul leaving the body, etc.)

This would be the nightmare scenario for me… waking up all my cryopreserved crewmates who are probably suffocating and it's all up to my abysmal upper arm strength. I'd be tugging ineffectually on those levers until everyone died.

What does the psychic baby think it's accomplishing here? Why go after these humans so hard? It doesn't appear to be about food, does some association with Kamen make it see them all as a cause of pain that needs to be destroyed? What level of intelligence does it have, and how much is instinct?

Honestly surprised Kris got out of there without the baby wrecking the shuttle, but I'm still waiting for that lily to come into play somehow. There's wildlife on there.

Azi you should've played dead

The baby was trying to feed her? It wanted Azi to belong to it? That's true, it tried to break Barry's neck and didn't for her… does this come from Kamen recognizing her as crew?

Levi to the rescue! They recognize Azi even if they still seem a bit checked out

This is getting really trippy. Are we watching the development of the planet from gas cloud to evolution?

Not entirely sure how Levi psychic blasted the baby. Was it that the slime allows it to psychically connect to lifeforms, and since Levi is connected to the whole planet, it overloaded it and… exploded?

Going to assume this species molts naturally given that Levi blasted its outside off and there's another one inside. It's so cute and little <3

Poor Mia waking up in a crashed ship with a bunch of corpses, Kamen (catatonic), a strange kid, and a sentient planet robot: uHH. Azi it's kind of you to be there for her but I don't think the sight of her one night stand is enough to get her through this calmly.

Ursula is THRIVING with her alien garden.

Is Kamen nonverbal now? And hanging out with one of the creatures that is often parasitized by the psychic babies… interesting.

Levi is growing baby Levis?? Admitting to be baffled by this. How does that work

uhhhhhhhhhh space death cult?? Did Kris get picked up by the Nine Houses?

Wow she actually survived even though the shuttle was infested. So that's their season 2 hook if they want one, Kris leads the space death cult back to Vesta assuming everyone's been eaten and she can grab the cargo. Was kind of hoping she'd get attacked by wildlife and have no one to help her (because she ditched Barry) but ah well we can't have everything

And that's the show! I will ponder and then do a full show thoughts post later.