#and he could learn to respect the strength of women in the mines

[dodgedriftdietrying]

Better, not awful Sanji timeskip idea:

He gets sent to an island under Marine control, thats also a mining colony. He is assumed to be a miner and is treated as such. Maybe he's unconscious and only has the medicine a poor family on the island can afford and stays asleep for a long time. When he wakes up, he sees the 2D2Y message and decides to stay put and help these people until it's time to go back to Luffy. So during the day, he works in the mines and uses his legs instead of a pickaxe (earning the black leg epithet) .

But when he wakes up, he realizes the rations the people are given by the marines are just enough to give them strength to work, but they're low quality and keep them too tired to revolt. So after work, he learns to make strengthening food and helping them prepare to revolt, which he does just in time to get back to Luffy on the first ship out of town. Thats why he was the 7th person to show up on Sabaody.

[xinamothy]

So piglins...

I thought way to long about these guys. They are just so silly.

Anyways some worldbuilding brain dump:

Piglins live in Matriarchal family groups called Sounders, run by the eldest female, her closest elder female companions, and their husbands (who are mainly in charge of raising their sons though may be consulted on certain matters).

Sons will typically leave their home Sounders when they reach near full size as it is an important rite of passage (and keeps the gene pool flowing). They spend their time learning from their fathers before hand and try to survive alone to prove themselves as good potential husbands to other Sounders. Females may also leave though usually it is later in life to found their own Sounders or pursue a courtship.

....

First piece depicts a relatively common family with multiple kids all born of the same litter. Due to the lack of a day night cycle, age in the Nether is determined by size, so if children will be considered different "ages" by largest to smallest in spite of birth order. Both monogamy and polygamy are practicing but differ in frequency based on regions, polygamy is probably more common across the culture. What matters most one (but especially men) remaining loyal to their Sounders but who and how many they marry matters very little. There are some sex specific traits mainly in the "Mohawk" that a majority of men develop and their larger tusks. Some men may also retain a "baby stripe" at the center of their head while women may retain two over the eyes. Culturally the woman hunt, gather food and lead the sounder while men guard, mine, and craft necessary materials. Men will wear their own gold creations and gift them to their wives to prove themselves as good husbands. Wearing a lot of high quality gold jewelry is a symbol of strength and respect.

Second piece is my lesbian wedding piece, the culture is very excepting of non cishet peoples and their relationships. The wedding ceremony often depicts the four "gods" (not a very accurate word, more like demigods and the first ever piglins) called the three wives and husband. They are the wife of hunt, wife of forage, wife of home, and husband (he doesn't get a fun title but he is understood as the one who taught the piglins mining and metallurgy). The wives are considered much more important to everyday piglin culture but the husband still has his place and is considered the leader of men who keeps their culture cycling. During most ceremonies a post will be erected in the gods honor and danced around.

Also wine because wart wine is fun to say. It is definitely not palatable to other races but the piglin like it.

I honestly could make a whole movie just of all my notes of piglin food and mythology alone.

[twig-tea]

5 BL characters in 2023 who you would help hide a body

*cracks knuckles* @wen-kexing-apologist I had things to do today! Let's not lie I was already not doing them so let's go.

I am notoriously bad at keeping my lists down to any reasonable number so I'm going to give myself very specific parameters: This is a character who (a) I love so deeply I would do anything for them, (b) they would murder someone, and (c) there is someone in their show who, if they murdered, I would support their gay crime. Ok with those caveats let's see how I do [spoiler alert: I failed pretty badly].

Ji Hyun, The Eighth Sense

Ji Hyun came from the country to the big city, saw a hot guy on a poster and decided "yep I'm going to learn to surf even though I can't actually swim". He almost died and decided to lean into his convictions even MORE. He sasses out his senior and isn't put off by his lover ghosting him. Luckily for them the people in Jae Won's life figured themselves out and apologized, because Ji Hyun was not going to put up with more of their bullshit. I would do anything for this man and I fully believe if pushed he would do anything for his.

Noey Watplu, I Will Knock You

Noey is a kid who ended up running a gang mostly out of care for his community. He thinks he's so much tougher than he is, but his bravado and endless self-confidence get him through so much. Still, if he hadn't turned away from that gangster lifestyle, he definitely would have gotten in trouble at some point and I would have been with the other aunties at the food stalls helping deal with the mess.

Dung from Mr Cinderella S2

He has had a rough life, but is extremely kind, and I always stan a man who stays beside his in the face of external threats, but who also has healthy boundaries about how he's treated. The people in Khoa's life who keep messing with their relationship in both seasons....I'm not advocating murder, but if they happened to die, I would be there helping make sure they didn't mess with them anymore.

Ueangphueng and Fongkaew, I Feel You Linger in the Air

I just want these women to be happy and safe (with Mai). And if there's anyone on this list who deserved to murder someone as a treat, it's them. I love so much that they teamed up to take down their husband. I love so much that they found strength in one another. I would absolutely help them bury whoever they needed me to. And in a time when justice would not have been served for what they actually experienced, do I think they could have gone there if they hadn't found the other evidence to take him down? Absolutely, and I respect them for it.

Namnuea, Wedding Plan

This is cheating against my own rules because I don't think he would actually kill anyone but I'd do it for him and I know he'd help me hide the body so I'm counting it. I love this man. He also could technically fit into the ending category because he is (rightfully) surrounded by people who love and protect him, but count me in.

Amane, If It's With You

This is now just a favourites list but listen. I was ready to throw down for him immediately re: that high school crush, and as we got more of him and saw how brave he was through this series my love grew exponentially. He is mine and I would protect him in any way necessary, including helping him bury a very unlikely body.

Hira, My Beautiful Man

I love Kiyoi as a character so much and want desperately to protect him, but I don't need to we have Hira for that. Hira, on the other hand, canonically fantasizes about murdering his classmates because they're a little mean to Kiyoi, he's way more likely to need my help. And I love his complete disaster self so much. His arc is so slow across the seasons/movie and I know some folks got frustrated with him but he's starting from such an incredibly messed up place that the way his growth spirals makes perfect sense and is very relatable.

Koki, One Room Angel

This guy keeps getting into gang fights even though he's not in a gang, he's very likely to need me. And as a stoic, sad, quietly kind and perpetually misunderstood gay man, he immediately fell into my Love Forever and Protect With All of my Might bucket.

Kat, the Warp Effect

Listen, Kat could and would (and yes I chose this gif intentionally to invoke Wild Things). She doesn't need to because she has a wonderful group of friends who rally around her, but if anything else went down in her life and she had to choose violence, I'd be there with a shovel.

Ryunosuke, Tokyo in April Is...

I don't mean to imply that we want to murder our protagonists lol All three of the men in this show could ask me to bury a body and I'd say yes, but Ryunosuke is the one who might actually take advantage. Ryunosuke was fully evaluating Kazuma in this scene and he had good reason to. I fully believe if he found Kazuma wanting he'd find a way to make him disappear if he had to. In any case, Ryunosuke is in my bucket of favourite characters from this year and I would do anything for him.

Uea, Middleman's Love

It's cheating that he's here because really the people I'd love to help him bury were all in Bed Friend but in my defense I'll say that his energy in this show was 100% "if you hurt Jade who is too precious to exist I will end you", and I support him on this.

Misaki, Me, My Husband, and my Husband's Boyfriend

This woman went through so much self-reflection and growth. At the start of the show she couldn't hurt anyone but herself, but by the end? She was ready to hold boundaries and fight for her own happiness even if she doesn't yet know what that is and I am here to support that even if it turns out to be violence. I can't find any gifs of her in her happiness and I'm very sad about it

Nai, Shadow the Series

Dan is a monsterfucker and so he has my whole heart, but Nai is the one most likely to need my services. While Dan is in his feelings and obsessed with the supernatural mystery in the show, Nai is in the real world gathering information, setting up their bully as a fall guy, and generally being brilliant. Here for him and all his gay wrongs.

Bonus

Folks I don't need to help bury a body because they already have people for that, but who I absolutely could not keep off this list!

Maya, Rose, and Charn, Laws of Attraction and Ai Di, Kiseki: Dear to Me

I don't think they need any further commentary.

[batboyblog]

first thank you! I'm glad it helped, I hoped to show how much good is happening under this administration because the media loves horse coverage, it loves scandals, it loves negative, and smart policy happening smoothly bores them and so doesn't get coverage and doesn't get shared on social media

I plan on doing one those once a week till the election and I'm 100% confident there will be good news every week, from now till November.

Finally I get how the doom and bad news and negative vibes (social media loves those) could crush you down and make you lose hope. I have a few people I draw on in politics and organizing and Harvey Milk is one of them he always said "you gotta give 'em hope!"

but I think Ann Richards put it best way back in 1988, and when I'm down I listen to her again and this part keeps me going every time I want to give up.

I’m a grandmother now. And I have one nearly perfect granddaughter named Lily. And when I hold that grandbaby, I feel the continuity of life that unites us, that binds generation to generation, that ties us with each other. And sometimes I spread that Baptist pallet out on the floor, and Lily and I roll a ball back and forth. And I think of all the families like mine, like the one in Lorena, Texas, like the ones that nurture children all across America. And as I look at Lily, I know that it is within families that we learn both the need to respect individual human dignity and to work together for our common good.  Within our families, within our nation, it is the same. And as I sit there, I wonder if she’ll ever grasp the changes I’ve seen in my life -- if she’ll ever believe that there was a time when blacks could not drink from public water fountains, when Hispanic children were punished for speaking Spanish in the public schools, and women couldn’t vote. I think of all the political fights I’ve fought, and all the compromises I’ve had to accept as part payment. And I think of all the small victories that have added up to national triumphs and all the things that would never have happened and all the people who would’ve been left behind if we had not reasoned and fought and won those battles together. And I will tell Lily that those triumphs were Democratic Party triumphs. I want so much to tell Lily how far we’ve come, you and I. And as the ball rolls back and forth, I want to tell her how very lucky she is that for all our difference, we are still the greatest nation on this good earth. And our strength lies in the men and women who go to work every day, who struggle to balance their family and their jobs, and who should never, ever be forgotten. I just hope that like her grandparents and her great-grandparents before that Lily goes on to raise her kids with the promise that echoes in homes all across America: that we can do better, and that’s what this election is all about.

I think of all the fights I've fought, will my nieces ever understand that there was a time when their uncle couldn't get married? will they ever really believe it? I don't know, I think of all the part payments all the civil unions, and bills that didn't go far enough and most of all, ALL the people who would have been left behind! all the people that that bill, or that program that doesn't fix it all? all those people that got saved because we didn't let perfect be the enemy of good, because every small victory is a big fucking deal in someone's life and it was worth it to help that person.

so ever forward, the world wants to drag you down into hopelessness because hopeless people give up and stop fighting, and when you do stop fighting you stop making progress, and you have to remember all progress was a slow build, it only looks quick looking back.

the Biden posting will continue till moral improves.

[newmih]

A few drops of rain

Words: 768

Characters : Giyuu Tomioka x female reader (Hashira)

Summary : y/n meets Giyuu in a restaurant lost on the side of a road.

A/N: it's 11:48pm and I'm writing for Demon Slayer instead of learning the 4 pages in Spanish that are waiting for me nicely… I don't even have the strength to reread and it's really just sad and cute compote I guess By the way that's my first try writing for an anime...

/please reblog if you liked it <;3/ /English is not my first language. Sorry for any mistake I made./ /Picture is not mine./

Masterlist

Bonne lecture

Giyuu was not in the habit of carrying out accompanied missions. Most of the demon slayers who had followed him had realized this after a few minutes. His reluctance to make conversation, or simply the lack of desire to do so, had immediately made him look unpleasant.

He hadn't really heard about it, or if he had, didn't care. Since he was a child, others had been labeling him as such, and although it hurt him at first, he had quickly gotten used to it.

With such a reputation ahead of him, he was sure he would have peace and could work alone. Well, almost.

The Hashira y/n also spent most of his missions alone. The sound of her footsteps was her only company. She had been used to this way of life when she was young, but the idea of having a comrade did not displease her, on the contrary.

It was only with her two sabers that she pushed open the door of a roadside restaurant. She had never minded walking until the sound of thunder and the rain began to fall.

She didn't hate it, only when she was the victim.

She took a seat in front of a window, alone. There weren't many customers, only an old person asleep on a table, a hooded young woman watching the menu and a man she could only see from behind. She immediately recognized his straight and cold posture and the mismatched kimono he always wore.

The eagle that served as her messenger had never mentioned the presence of another Hashira near her, but she ignored it. After a few years of informing her, he knew how much she liked solitude, time for herself.

She retrieved her bag and took a seat beside him. He had no visible reaction to her appearance and simply continued what he was doing: bringing the chopsticks to his mouth in extreme concentration.

The old cook approached and allowed y/n to place her order. She moved away and calm returned to the two fighters. As always, neither spoke to the other. y/n did not do so out of respect for Giyuu. She had gotten to know him in silence, by observing him. He didn't talk much, only when he felt it was necessary. She didn't know why he was the way he was but she wouldn't allow herself to judge.

Her meal arrived and she thanked the waitress with a smile before attacking her bowl. In the middle of it, she stopped, wiped her mouth with a napkin and rummaged in her bag. She pulled out a paper folded in four that she unrolled on her lap.

The paper was a few days old, but she thought one of the articles was related to the case she was on. She put it on the table and slid it to Giyuu. He finally turned his calculating gaze to the ink.

The demon slayer asked him silently if he was on the same case. He quickly read the content before nodding. They would then make the rest of the journey together. The idea reassured y/n somewhat. She was one of the most powerful women of her generation, but she was still a woman and the world was still not safe for her gender. She would have loved to be able to say otherwise, but it wasn't, and until it was, she wouldn't feel completely safe, just as she wouldn't feel safe until all the demons were vanquished.

The company of a friend always reassured her. In her experience, men were generally less friendly when they weren't in front of a woman alone.

They set off again at the end of their meal, without waiting to digest. The storm was still going on, even if the rain had calmed down a bit. The clouds that covered the sky were so dark that it seemed for a moment that night had fallen.

She stepped outside, still protected by the front of the building, and looked up worriedly. Her hood was still wet, as were the rest of her clothes, and she wouldn't bet against the fact that she would probably get sick if she went back in.

Giyuu glanced at her before pulling out an umbrella from his belongings and opening it on both of them. He made sure that the woman had as much space as possible, even if he ended up with a wet shoulder.

The smile that she offered to him warmed up enough the interior so that he did not think any more about his body that was cooling more and more.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 || (very dark) 70s!Bucky x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: he tried to be sympathetic to your cause, he really did, but he couldn’t just let you get away with disrespecting him like that.  

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.4k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: smut (noncon, plus breeding kink and tons of degradation, like very heavy degradation, and multiple orgasms/overstimulation), misogyny, a bit of dumbification, housewife kink, ‘sir’ kink (brief), choking, implied anal, spitting (not on the reader, unfortunately lmao), quite a bit more than period-typical sexism, awful awful awful this fic is absolutely awful

                            Brooklyn, 1970.

Bucky’s mornings were sacred.  He had his rituals: showering, cooking breakfast, reading the paper and having his first drink and cigarette of the day, all before he left for work.

But throughout this entire week, his mornings had been ruined by the stupid fucking protest in the park just outside his window.  And to think he’d actually paid more for an apartment with a view of the park— he hadn’t realized then that the “view” was gonna be a bunch of hippies creating awful music and an unbearable smell that left his whole apartment reeking of reefer if he dared to open his window.

Attempting to ignore it for a week only made him more resentful with each passing day.  Each time he figured the crowd would surely leave soon or at least be quiet for the night, they seemed to somehow get louder just to spite him.

He probably should've waited until he was a bit less agitated to go down and try to bargain with you, but he stormed down there instead and tapped you on the shoulder when his presence alone wasn't enough to distract you from your incessant chanting.

“Would you consider being quiet?" he asked firmly.  "I have to work in the morning and—”

“We won’t be quiet until women have equal treatment under the eyes of society and the law,” you interrupted to explain condescendingly, shocking him with your icy tone.  He could hardly believe your attitude, in fact he couldn’t remember any woman speaking to him that way in his life: so far, he wasn’t enjoying it.

“I just thought you could be a little more respectful,” Bucky shot back, even more stern.  “You’re not making anyone wanna support your movement by acting entitled and inconveniencing everyone.”

“I’m sorry the revolution is inconvenient for you,” you replied, but it didn’t sound much like an apology. 

He wanted to say more but you blew him off and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him confused and irritated and livid.  Up until now he had been quietly skeptical about all this talk of liberation but now he saw it for the poison it really was.  A girl like you— who could've been a real looker with some willingness to try and a better attitude— talking to a man like him with so much hate and over what, a polite request?

This could not be tolerated; he couldn't let you get away with acting like that.  And lucky for you, he was exactly the guy you needed to teach you your lesson.

The good thing about hippies high on shrooms is they aren’t the most observant.  When he returned to the demonstration area the next night, he was able to grab you roughly and pull you back from the crowd with almost no trouble at all, dragging you into an empty alley and clamping his hand down over your mouth as your eyes went wide and your throat vibrated with silent screams.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed against your ear, “whatcha fightin’ for?”

He liked the way it felt to have you squirming against his grasp, using all your strength and not even getting close to escaping.  

“How does it feel to know I can do anything I want to you?” he growled against your ear.  “C’mon, sweetheart, can’t you put up a better fight than that?  I thought you believed in equality… you should be able to get away if you’re as strong as I am.”

He felt your warm tears trailing down around his fingers which held your face tightly, the struggle of your limbs slowing and weakening slightly.  His cock was already getting hard as he imagined the moment you would finally give in.

“You remember me, don’t you?  You didn’t need to be so rude, darlin’.  You could’ve just been nice and none of this would be happening.”

Your elbow shot back into his ribs and he exhaled sharply but didn't let go, grabbing your wrists and holding your arms to your chest as he pinned you to the wall.

"Oh, that's not gonna work, babydoll.  I'm so much stronger and bigger than you, all you're gonna do is make me angrier.  Is that what you want, sweetheart?  To make me angry?" he asked mockingly, leaning in to lick the shell of your ear as you tried to turn away.  “Pretty girl like you would make a great wife, why would you want anything else?”

Ignoring your struggle, he reached into your shirt and purred as he groped your chest, your nipples hardening when he pinched them.  “Maybe I can get behind this bra-burning thing if it means having easier access to your tits all the time,” he grinned.  “How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when I can see them through your shirt?  Shouldn’t be showing ‘em off if you don’t want any attention.”

As fun as it was to play with your tits, he had bigger plans, so he reached lower to start tugging down your jeans, your legs uselessly kicking as he exposed your ass and thighs.

His cock was already rock hard as he hastily opened his fly and pulled it out with one hand, leaning back to spit on it quickly.  He spread the fluid with a few strokes over his length, figuring it would be enough to get inside you even if he didn’t really care if he hurt you.  

Your eyes went wide and your head bucked wildly as he poked the head of it against your opening, your body fighting a little harder once again.  The irony of that, though, was that you were already plenty wet in spite of what he had expected; it was so much funnier to watch you struggle now that he knew you were not-so-secretly enjoying it.

“Don’t be so dramatic," he chuckled darkly, "I bet you can take a cock real easy since you believe in all this ‘free love’ bullshit.”

He groaned as he pushed into you, impressed by how tight you were— so tight that it made his cock throb right away, your walls pulsing and rippling around him as he filled you to the brim.

“Oh fuck, there you go…” he hissed, smiling as you sobbed harder and struggled a bit more before finally relaxing into his tight embrace.  "You're gonna take it all, baby, every fuckin' inch of me."

A hard sob choked out of you every time he slammed himself to the end of you; he could feel the hatred radiating from you, the way you would kill him in a moment if only you weren't so weak.  But he could feel your reluctant acceptance, too, and the way it was slowly turning into euphoria— you were finally starting to like how it felt to be helpless to him, it was obvious with the way your pussy gave him such a warm and willing welcome while your pretty tits got even harder.

You clearly wanted to hate him, but your body knew better.

"You think I'm a sexist pig, I'm sure," he chuckled, "but I'm really not— I love women!  And you know what I love most?  Huh?"

He felt you nervously shake your head behind his hand and he laughed.

"I love the way you get so dumb when you get a cock in you.  All those useless little thoughts leaving your head when you're finally getting fucked right."

Your cries got louder even though they were still muffled by his hand, your sweet little pussy giving him a squeeze of encouragement.

"It's okay to like it, babydoll, it's what you were meant for.  Made to be my brainless fucktoy… born to serve me," he growled.  “You really should learn to appreciate," he grunted between brutal thrusts, "that your only purpose is to keep my dinner hot and my cock warm.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head and he felt your walls bear down on him tightly, wetness seeping down around him.

"Oh fuck, are you coming?  Shit," he moaned.  "Looks like you really needed to be put in your place, just needed to be used... god, you made a fuckin' mess, too, you soaked my cock…"

Your little hands tightened into fists, pushing against where his arm held them back, but he stayed steady as he pumped into you, letting himself get a bit lost in the feeling of you while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

It felt so damn good to have a cunt coming around him, but it was even better knowing that you were fighting it and still couldn’t stop it, completely helpless to how good he was making you feel.

You almost screamed under his hand when he reached down to quickly rub your clit, your back arching to try to run away from his touch; poor thing, you were so sensitive it probably hurt you, but he was having too much fun watching you realize you were going to come again.

"Yeah, gimme another one, slut," he grinned, your legs quivering as waves of slick coated him and started to even drip down your legs.  "Can't stop coming like the dirty whore you are, huh?  Bet nobody's made you come like this before— cause nobody's given it to you right.  Nobody's shown ya what it's supposed to be like when a man takes you and makes you his."

From the way you moaned softly, teary eyes fluttering shut, he knew you liked the sound of that.

"Yeah, wanna be mine, baby?  Wanna be my little slut?  Or do you want me to pump this pussy full and leave you here on the ground for any other man that comes by to use you if he needs?"

You groaned softly, a weak little noise, and he felt his cock flex; as much as he wanted this to last as long as possible, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“M’close, honey,” he breathed.  “I’m gonna come.”

He laughed breathlessly when you shut your eyes, like you were trying to go somewhere else in your mind, trying to pretend this wasn’t real.  But it was real, and he wasn’t going to let you forget that.  He was elated to make your nightmares come true.

"I sure wouldn't mind pulling out and covering that pretty face you've got,” he hissed.  “It'd be funny to see you go back to your little march and show them how owned you are.  But not today, babydoll, I think there's only one way you're gonna learn your lesson."

Another muffled gurgle from you, and this time it didn’t even sound like protest.  Maybe you were just too tired for that at this point, but it gave him hope that you could finally behave.

"I'm gonna take my hand away from your mouth and you're gonna beg me to come inside you, is that clear?" he grunted, feeling you nod vigorously.  "You're not gonna scream are you?"

You shook your head, and he slowly pulled his hand from your mouth as you gasped for air.  "Please— come in me," you panted.

"Address me as 'sir'," he instructed.

"Please, sir, I— I want you to come," you whined.

He chuckled right against your ear, feeling you shiver in his grasp.  "Honey, I don't give a fuck what you want."

To think you ever resisted your natural desire for submission was absurd now, considering the way that statement made you openly moan, your walls fluttering around him.

“Gonna fill you so fuckin’ deep you’ll never get it outta you, sweetheart.”

One more orgasm washed over you, making him laugh darkly while he watched you bite your lip to attempt to stay quiet; but that was impossible once he fucked you harder just to spite you, having to hold you tight to make sure he got as deep in you as possible.  Your whole body shook as he slammed into you, and he laughed at how dumb and helpless you looked.

"Bet you're on those new birth control pills," he grimaced.  They really weren’t that new, but he still hadn’t gotten used to them.  "Makes me sick to think you're letting a perfectly good womb go to waste.  Betcha want me to breed you nice and deep, yeah?  Wanna get knocked up?  You don't even care that I'm a stranger, you wanna get your pussy filled by any random man's come so you can have any random man's baby, ain't that right?"

At first he had worried that you would scream or cry for help, but now his concern was more that your moans would be too loud and somebody would catch the two of you in this alley.  Even if it was obvious now that you wanted it, public indecency was still a crime.

Good thing he had a new way to shut you up: his hand tight around your throat, silencing your sobs to blessed silence.  It was so hot to have you entirely at his mercy like that, to feel your pulse beneath his fingers, that he couldn’t stop himself from speeding up his thrusts suddenly.

"Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he gasped, “fuck, y-you… little whore…”

He had a habit of running his mouth when he was right on the edge, and the way your pussy was milking him for all he was worth made him spit out whatever filth he could think of.  

“Stupid fuckin' bitch," he mumbled under his breath as he fucked you as fast and rough as he could, chasing his high with no regard for your pleasure or your pain.  "Dumb whore, fuck, you stupid— ah, shit— stupid fucking cunt!"

He cried out as he filled you, groaning loudly with every pump of his seed into your waiting body.  Only when he was sure every drop was inside you did he release his grip on your neck, a loud gasp coming first before a few coughs and chokes that only made his cock harder despite having just filled you.

You started to struggle again, and he couldn’t believe it— after everything, did you still not know your place?

There wasn’t much time to relax and enjoy the afterglow when you were already trying to get away, and so he had to hold you tight again while he smiled exhaustedly.

“N-no,” you stammered, and he covered your mouth again as he pulled your head back to rest on his shoulder.  Clearly he hadn’t done enough yet to fuck that word out of you.

“Where ya goin’, sweetheart?” he panted against your ear, still catching his breath, his chest covered in a thin layer of sweat where it was exposed by his shirt.  “You’ve still got another hole to fill.”

[ronaldofandom]

A Love Eternal / Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna

Chapter 6 is up, guys. No warnings.

Summary: This is love and longing and feels and fluff and more love. Key dynamics are Sita-Jenny, Bheem-Jenny, and Malli-Jenny.

Hope you feel the love!

.............................................................................

Chapter 6

(Links to Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10 , Ch 11)

Three days had passed. Three very long days. The two men were supposed to return tonight, and the two women were palpably thrilled.

Today was also the day of the festival of nature spirits, as Sita had explained to Jenny. The villagers had gathered in the village square (which was basically a decent-sized clearing in the center of all huts) and were thanking natural forces like mountain spirits, river spirits, and animal spirits for their nourishment and care. The modest feast was a combination of everyday food plus some desserts - which were a luxury for them and were only prepared for special occasions. They were singing their folk songs, along with some makeshift percussion instruments like drums. All the while mindful of the surroundings - they kept the volume decently low so as not to disturb the peace of the forest. Jenny was amazed by their simplicity and wisdom every day. Most city people - whether in India or England - lacked the basic decency and etiquette that these tribals possessed. She wondered why the city people were considered more civilized and intellectual - it actually should have been the other way around. She was deep in thought and didn’t realize when Sita sat down next to her.

‘They will be back anytime now. You will see him soon. And he will love the surprise.’ 

Jenny broke from her trance-like state and saw her friend smiling at her. She smiled back immediately - Sita’s gentle yet knowing smiles were hard to resist.

‘And you will see him soon.’ 

While Jenny had no qualms in showing how much she missed Bheem, she knew Sita missed Ram too. Incredibly. Yet she was more restrained in her love and also her longing. She had gotten used to waiting for Ram. She never sought his time or attention and was grateful for whatever little of it came down her way organically. While they were childhood friends and were very close in some ways, expressing affection wasn’t one of their strengths. Far from it. Jenny had observed their dynamic from a distance. They behaved like a couple who had been married for decades - very reliant on each other and silently attuned to each other. Yet, their primary marriage was to their respective duties. To their country. Ram had chosen that path, and Sita had followed him wordlessly. While that arrangement worked for Ram, Jenny could see that it didn’t necessarily work for Sita. She wanted more of him.

‘Why don’t you tell him what you feel, what you really feel? That you want to have an iota of life beyond the never-ending mission?’

Jenny asked her finally. Sita was visibly taken aback by the question.

‘You know why. Back in my village, I told you. This mission is his life, his everything. He derives his happiness, his vigor, and his will to live from this mission. I love him, Jenny. And if this is his life’s purpose, then I will support him every step of the way. I am not going to bother him with what I want or need. I am just grateful that he is mine, but he still belongs to the country first.’

There was deep wisdom and melancholy in her voice as she said all this. Years and years of being by Ram’s side, as he killed himself to become the potent weapon that he was today, had given immense perspective to Sita. She had learned and accepted that she would only ever get a small piece of Ram, if at all. Jenny found it sad and unfair.

‘Is it so wrong to live a little? To have a semblance of normalcy and feelings and love? Do you think a person can survive if he is only fuelled by revenge/anger? Don’t you think he would get worn out and make horrendous choices, and others would have to bear the brunt of it? Don’t you think that has already happened? As the person who knows him the best, shouldn’t you be telling him this?’

Sita was amazed by how perceptive, and insightful Jenny could be. Along with her ability to not mince words. She said things as she saw them. Sita knew there was some truth to Jenny’s words, but she didn’t know Ram like Sita did.

‘Jenny, I have tried. But the burden that he carries is too heavy. Over the years, he has slowly turned himself into a machine. Not just to become a physical specimen for the mission but also to not get impacted by feelings or emotions. I saw this materialize gradually over the years. The only person other than me who has been able to break through the wall he has created is Bheem. He smiles a little now, laughs a little, and even lives a little. Bheem has shown him how to be true to the mission yet not burn himself in it. That gives me hope, Jenny. I see a small change, and that is enough for me. All in due time - I will not push him for it.’

While Sita was smiling fondly by the end of it, she could sense that Jenny was not convinced. That her smile was half-hearted. She nudged Jenny lightly with her elbow.

‘Listen - not everyone can be as romantic and attentive as your Bheem, okay? I will probably check Ram for fever if he starts making flower bracelets for me or leaves roses on my pillow.’

Sita laughed out loud, and Jenny joined her, genuinely this time. She told herself that maybe Sita was right - that everyone had different ideas of happiness. Who was she to really decide what constituted happiness in someone else’s relationship? It might seem dysfunctional to her, but maybe it worked for them. Maybe their way of showing love was something deeper, something she didn’t grasp yet. She just wished for her friend, her only friend, to be happy with the man she loved the most in this whole world. The man who was Sita’s whole world. 

The two women chatted and laughed over other things. Many random, silly things. Jenny told her stories of how different men had tried to woo her over the years and how she never felt anything for any of them. She told her about the party where she first danced with Bheem - and how Bheem and Ram took over the whole party. Sita clapped happily as she heard it all - the wooing stories, in particular, were very amusing for her. She had been with Ram for as long as she could remember, so she hadn’t had any of these experiences.

The environment had become even more festive as dessert was brought in. Everyone seemed excited, adults and children alike. Jenny pictured how happy Bheem would be while having the dessert - and wished for him to come back soon. Sita had assured her that they had sent word and that they would be back any minute now. 

At that moment, Malli came to them with two servings of kheer. The child sat in Jenny’s lap and started feeding her with her own hands. Jenny had fed her many desserts while in the palace. She would sneak to her room after dinner every night and bring along whichever delicacy was served that day. Jenny had hoped that maybe the sweets would make Malli happy - all kids loved sweets, after all. It used to lift Malli’s mood a bit, but she wasn’t sure whether it was because of the sweets or because of Jenny. Any time that she spent with Jenny used to be the only bearable time in that cage for her. So now, Malli wanted to feed Jenny the dessert of her place. And she chatted away in her lap as she told Jenny about all the times her mother had made kheer for her. Watching Malli smile so joyously made Jenny emotional - at the realization that for months, this child was deprived of this smile. But Malli brought her back to reality with a hand to Jenny’s face. Malli understood sadness all too well now; she recognized that look on Jenny's and kissed her softly to make her smile. Jenny had done the same for her every time she had cried over the last 6 months.

That was the moment when Bheem walked in. His presence was immediately noticed, and he was met with affectionate hugs. Jangu and Lachchu came to him instantly and enquired about the trip. The village elders also made a beeline for him. While he greeted everyone politely and answered all questions patiently, his eyes kept searching the place for her. When he finally saw her, his heart did a few somersaults in his chest.

She was sitting in a far corner, with Malli in her lap. Mail was kissing and caressing her cheeks while feeding her kheer. The child was smiling so preciously that it nearly brought tears to Bheem’s eyes. It had taken a while for Malli to stop crying. And even longer for her to not wake up from her sleep with nightmares. But it had taken the longest for her to start smiling again. That had only happened since she was reunited with Loki and the tribe. But he still hadn’t seen her laugh so freely as she was doing now. Bheem had noticed the sweet bond she shared with Jenny, a bond forged by pain and empathy. Jenny had been great with other kids also - they had all become fond of her. Jenny tended to smile wider and laugh harder with the children; they also loved playing with her and making her chase after them.

Just then, an image flashed in front of Bheem. Of Jenny sitting in the same spot. But in her lap was an infant, her own child. Who had her ruby lips. And his stubborn curls. And his tanned skin. The mother and son cooed fondly at each other while waiting for him to return home.

Bheem had to shake his head to break out of the image and was dazed for a good few seconds. It had come so unexpectedly and caught him completely off-guard. Yet he felt warm and fuzzy all over. Jenny had noticed the commotion by then and looked up. Their eyes met briefly. He was still surrounded by a few people, but he managed to nod slightly at her. She responded with a radiant smile. Malli also noticed Bheem then and ran straight to him. Bheem lifted her in his arms, and she climbed up to sit on his shoulders for her Anna to walk her around. And Bheem obliged, of course. 

When he put Malli down and turned around to look at her, he was rooted to his spot for a few seconds. Jenny was wearing a saree, a gorgeous red saree. He had to blink a few times to believe it was real, that he wasn’t dreaming. She looked ethereal. She looked stunning. He started to walk towards her but was suddenly surrounded by everyone else. Loki tried to feed him food, but he had already eaten. Others tried to feed him kheer, which he took happily. He wasn’t going to say no to sweets. When he finished one serve, he was readily served one more, and he gobbled it happily. 

Jenny had seen him notice her, but his attention was quickly snatched away by the group surrounding him. Including the young girls who fawned over his every move; she was more aware of it now since Sita had highlighted it. When one of them served him kheer and his face lit up, it tugged at Jenny’s heart. When the concerned girl leaned closer to help him with a second serve, Jenny couldn’t stand the sight and swiftly walked away. She spotted Sita and went straight towards her, keeping her distance from all the affection that was being showered on him. It bothered her because it made her face that ugly realization again, which her heart had thrown in her face multiple times - that Bheem would be far better off with one of the girls of the village. It would be natural, convenient, and logical. It would suit everyone. He wouldn’t have to stress over her well-being all the time. These girls would readily understand him - his language, his moods, his…needs. And they could fulfill all of those. Unlike her, who was such a misfit in that environment. 

She was lost in thought while walking, didn’t notice the uneven surface below, and ended up twisting her ankle. Thankfully, the food table was nearby, and she held on to the edge of it to keep herself from falling. Two seconds later, strong arms wrapped around her and steadied her. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was him - she could recognize his touch and his scent anywhere. She could also feel his presence. Most importantly, she knew no one else would dare to touch her like that. And most definitely not when Bheem was around.

Bheem turned her around in his arms to face himself, balanced her against the edge of the table, and bent down to take a quick look at her ankle. It was a mild twist, but she needed tending to. Jenny saw his next move in his eyes, a split second before he executed it. Before she could stop him, he had picked her up in his arms and was walking back towards their hut. All her apprehensions from a few seconds ago were forgotten. And were now replaced with red-hot embarrassment. She could feel all pairs of eyes turn towards them. People stepped out of their way automatically, wordlessly, as Bheem carried her back. Jenny was sure that if the villagers had any iota of doubt left about them, it won’t be present after this moment. Their imaginations would run wild, and she couldn’t even blame them. How was she going to face anyone now? How would she face Sita - that demon would give her hell for this. It was all too much. 

‘Bheem put me down. I will walk; it’s not that bad.’ 

She whispered softly in his ear, but he paid no heed to it. She struggled lightly in his arms, but he just tightened his hold. When she struggled one more time, he gave her a definitive look. She was still getting used to his decisive looks and tone. But she resigned to her fate then, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and buried her face in his neck so as not to look at anyone else. The one-minute walk to the hut felt at least an hour long to her.

When they reached inside, he carefully sat her down on the edge of the cot and knelt in front of her. He took off her sandals himself, despite her protests, and kept her injured foot on his raised knee. When he lifted her saree a bit to inspect the ankle, he saw the silver anklets she was wearing underneath. Could feet possibly ever be this beautiful? He didn’t know earlier, but now he did. As his fingers started to prod around her ankle and she cried out in pain, he came back to reality. One of her hands was clutching his shoulder while the other had clenched in her saree; her eyes were shut tightly in the anticipation of more pain. He couldn’t bear to see her like this. His mouth moved of its own volition, and he bent down to kiss her ankle, placing a few gentle kisses around the area and one on her anklet as well. Her eyes shot open, and she looked at him in wonder - whether he was real or whether she had conjured him from all her fantasies of her Prince Charming. She continued to stare at him, dazed, and didn’t even realize when he maneuvered her ankle back into place. 

‘Zyada dard toh nahi hua?’ (Hope it didn’t hurt too much?)

She looked up then to meet his concern-filled eyes and shook her head to assuage his fears. He helped her stand up with his arms outstretched around her, ready to catch her in case she wobbled. She tentatively put pressure on her foot and realized that he had worked his magic again. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. How dearly she had missed that smile. Missed him. Jenny leaned forward and kissed his cheeks - the non-bearded parts under his eyes. He responded by wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. Jenny could sense that there was something different in his touch today - he wasn’t as tentative. He wasn’t as hesitant. It felt like he had finally started to believe she was truly there and truly his. That she wasn’t some ‘memsahib’ but just another girl who was madly, hopelessly, unconditionally, and irrevocably in love with him. Who he could love back as well and not just admire from afar. The realization filled her heart with immense joy - she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her face on his shoulder.

He nuzzled into her neck as he felt her lean closer. Because he had missed her too, like hell. He had missed her warmth, her affection, her care, her giggles, her touch, and the feel of her skin as he held her. He had missed coming back to her every evening and telling her about his day. The first time Jenny had asked him ‘how are you?’, he had started talking about everything that he was supposed to do for others and how that panned out. But she had stopped him and said that her question was different. She wanted to know how he was feeling and what he wanted for himself. The question had thrown him off - nobody had asked him that before. What he wanted was what was good for others. What he truly wanted for himself had never even crossed his mind. But she had nudged him to think of that, to think of his real feelings. And he had started doing that with her. He had started telling her about his innermost fears, his prayers, his hopes, and his wishes. He had told her stuff that he hadn’t told anyone else - like how hard it had been for him to kill people. Even bad ones. How his conscience had been heavy ever since. Despite what Ram had told him - that it was all a part of the mission and had to be done. But still, he didn’t feel comfortable playing god and deciding someone’s fate. It was all very tough for him, and it constantly played on his mind. What he hadn’t told her yet, though, was that she had become a large part of all his inner feelings. She was the only person whose world revolved around him completely. Her worldview was via his lens - via what he needed and via what was good for him. She never asked for anything other than his happiness. He never had someone like that in his life before. 

The last 3 days away from her had given him more perspective; he wanted to cherish their time together and live every moment to the fullest. He had started to feel closer to her. Her increased knowledge of his language helped strengthen their bond. But today, she had completely knocked the air out of his chest. Seeing her in a saree was a surreal experience for him. The red saree suited her so beautifully - she looked divine, like a bride on her wedding day. The feel of her bangles around his neck made his skin tingle. It felt like she truly belonged to him. There was a mushy sensation coursing through his body, the sensation of love. He wanted to be close to her tonight - as close as humanly possible. In every way that was humanly possible. 

‘How are you? Bohot thak gaye honge na?’ (You must be quite tired, no?)

She asked sweetly, blissfully unaware of the turmoils of his heart. His lips found the mole on her shoulder and nuzzled it briefly, making her whimper. 

‘Thak gaya tha. Par abhi sab theek hain.’ (I was tired. But I am feeling good now.)

She smiled at his implication. Her instinct was right - something had changed in him, but she didn’t know what had caused that. She didn’t care, though; she just relished the openness and freeness of his demeanor tonight.

‘I missed you - so so much.’ She sighed into his neck. He kissed the side of her face in response while his fingers played with her hair. It hadn’t missed his attention that she had been leaving her hair open from the day he had indicated to her that he liked it this way. 

‘Kya kiya teen din?’ (What did you do these last 3 days?)

‘Not much. I spent time with the kids. Did my reading - learned a lot of new words. Spent some time with Sita. Did some knitting, but I am not happy with how it has turned out - I will need to rework it. And I just stared at the roses you left for me; I tried to picture your face as you were picking those out. And I also prayed for you to return safely.’

He listened intently and understood a few words - which were enough for him to grasp the essence. The sound of her voice was so soothing. But he did realize that she couldn’t move around much - since he had asked her to stay put. He didn’t want to be that firm with her, but it was important for her safety. Now that he was back, though, he would take care of it.

‘Agar tumhara man ho toh kal shaam ko ja sakte hain - tumhari pasandeeda jagaho par.’ 

(If you are up for it, we could go to both of your favorite places tomorrow evening.’)

Her face lit up, and she jumped a little in his arms, making him beam back at her. He couldn’t help but wonder how innocent and childlike she was at times. She was just 20, after all, still so young. When she cupped his cheeks in delight, he noticed the vivid colors on her hand and instantly recognized it as Malli’s work. Jenny followed his line of sight and understood his question.

‘Yes, this was Malli. Yes, this was the first time she drew something after the palace. Actually, while she was there, I could never ask her to draw on my hand. While I didn’t know the full story, I could see the sadness in her eyes every time she was asked to do this. It was almost like she cursed her ability and loathed it.  But yesterday morning, after the class, she came to me with the colors, sat on my lap, and just drew this. I was speechless and just looked at her throughout. Her eyes were not sad, though, not anymore. She even smiled when she finished and took me to Loki to show her work. Loki was emotional too.’

Jenny narrated the full story, but Bheem kept looking at her hand. The little child was coming back to her own self, slowly. He didn’t think it would happen. He feared she would forever be traumatized and caught in her nightmarish experiences. But this gave him hope. This, and her laughter from the gathering today. He was also moved by the fact that Malli had chosen Jenny for this. He was well aware of the bond they had shared - but this was a step further. This was Malli’s way of showing Jenny that she saw her as one of them, that she wasn’t an outsider there. And he knew this had a lot to do with Jenny as well - how she had assimilated with all his people. He fell in love with her more with each passing hour. His hands moved to cup her cheeks, but she caught them midway.

Bheem was confused. And then dread hit him. She was eyeing his wrist intently and looked up at him - the question was loud and clear in her eyes. He looked down, and stammered.

‘Wo…darasal…samay nahi mil paya dawai lagane ka. Kafi cheeze chal rahi thi - us beech me bhool gaya.’

(Umm…actually…I didn’t get the time to put the ointment you had packed for me. A lot was going on, and I forgot in the middle of all that.)

She didn’t buy it for one second and kept staring at him intently. Bheem knew he couldn’t lie to her. He didn’t want to either, but she would be furious with the truth, and he was actually scared of facing her then. Jenny had crossed her arms now and was giving him a look to just come out with it. He took two steps back, and his fingers fidgeted with the borders of his kurta - all the while looking at the ground. 

‘Tum jaanti ho asal wajah kya hain. Anna saath me the - agar unke saamne main ye lagata ya apna kurta nikalta toh unhe pata chal jata ki…’

(You know the real reason. Anna was with me. If I had put this on in front of him or taken off my kurta, he would have gotten to know about..)

He didn’t need to say further. He didn’t even need to look up at her to gauge how angry she must be right now.

And boy, was she angry. She was downright furious. She was so livid that she could punch Bheem right now and Ram as well while she was at it. Some friend he was. She had half a mind to drag Ram here and show him the consequences of his actions. So that Bheem’s dilemma ends once and for all. Anger was not an emotion she felt for Bheem ever - and even today, the anger was layered - with her helplessness about his selflessness. So many days of tending to his wounds would have gone to waste because of the gap. She might need to start afresh. He might need to endure for longer. She was so angry she could cry right now. 

Bheem had been scanning her face throughout and was heartbroken with her reaction. He knew he had hurt her. He also knew that anger was just a front - she was actually sad. He had never meant to hurt her, but he had caused the most lovely person in the world to nearly cry. He trailed behind her like a lost puppy as she moved around the hut to look for the ingredients for the ointment. She was giving him the silent treatment - not saying a word and not looking at him at all. Which was making him even more anxious. 

‘Suno na, Jenny. Galti ho gayi. Aage se dhyaan rakhunga. Dobara aisa nahi hoga, pakka. Maaf kar do na.’

(Please listen no, Jenny. I made a mistake. Will be more careful in the future. I promise I won’t do this again. Please forgive me.)

She didn’t acknowledge that or turn around. She absolutely didn’t want to melt looking into his eyes - which she knew would be all big and doe-like right now. Because she was still so mad at him. At that moment, Bheem realized that in trying to spare Ram’s feelings, he had hurt Jenny’s. He had hurt the one person who cared for him most deeply. Who was his safe space. His home. His love. His partner. And the worst part was, she wasn’t even mad at anything he had done to her. She was mad because he had hurt himself. Bheem felt like the scum of the earth.

When Jenny couldn’t find the fresh herbs and realized she needed to wait till tomorrow morning, she pushed aside the bowl in frustration. He couldn’t take her agony anymore and hugged her from behind. She struggled in his hold and groaned, but he held her firmly, letting her thrash against him. She gave up after a while, and her shoulders slumped. Bheem slowly turned her around then and lifted her chin to get her to look at him. And he was met with moist eyes and a far-way look.

He cupped her cheeks desperately and smothered her face with sloppy kisses. 

‘Rona mat Jenny, main dekh nahi paunga. Tumhari kasam, phir kabhi aisa nahi hoga. Bas tum rona mat.’

(Please don’t cry, Jenny. I won’t be able to handle it. I swear on you, this won’t happen again. Just please don’t cry.)

She finally acknowledged him, and her hands came up to rest on his shoulders. He grabbed them, kissed her palms, and placed them over his heart, which was beating rapidly right now. 

‘LOVE. YOU.’ He said slowly, trying to remember how she had said it. 

That cheat. That bastard. That cheating bastard. He knew she won’t be able to resist that. He knew she would melt. Which she did. Instantly. Jenny threw her arms around his neck, and he crushed her against his body. His arms ran up and down her back, and her hand twisted in his hair.

‘I love you too. So much that it hurts sometimes. I can’t handle your pain, Bheem; it kills me. You hurt me when you hurt yourself. Please, don’t ever do this to me again.’

They just held each other close, neither ready to let go yet. The music from outside had started floating in now. The celebration was at its fag end, and the most cheerful songs were being sung presently. Bheem swayed them lightly in his arms. Subconsciously, they shifted weight from one foot to the other, following the beats of the drum. Both in tandem with each other. Both remembered the last time they had danced like this - at the party in Delhi on the first day they had met. So much had changed since then. 

Bheem suddenly remembered that he had a surprise of his own for Jenny, a happy one this time. He mumbled against her neck, still reluctant to let go.

‘Kuch laaya tha tumhare liye.’ (I got something for you.)

Jenny looked up at him expectantly and curiously. He released her from his arms, extremely unwillingly, and pulled out from his pocket the necklace he had made from the shells of the riverbed. She was moved beyond words - this was the most thoughtful and beautiful gift anyone had ever gotten for her. She looked up at him in wonder and again asked herself if he was really real, not a figment of her imagination.

He saw her expression and understood that she liked the gift. Giving himself a silent pat on the back, he turned her around, moved her hair to one side, and carefully tied the necklace around her neck. He turned her back to face him and was mesmerized by how the shells added to her natural beauty. She was glowing tonight. Like an apsara (angel) had descended from heaven straight into his arms. She was agonizingly stunning, painfully so. He had to tell her what she was doing to him.

He cupped her cheeks, pulled her closer, their noses nearly touching, as he looked into her eyes. She could feel his hot, shallow breath on her face.

‘Tumhe andaaza bhi hain, ki aaj tum kitni khoobsoorat lag rahi ho?’

(Do you have any idea how stunning you are looking tonight?)

She blushed and averted her eyes, but he made her look back at himself. His eyes were dripping with love and desire - burning her from the inside. Her face turned crimson, her skin turned hot under his touch and proximity. 

He leaned impossibly closer, lips nearly touching hers. One of his hands played with the thread at the back of her blouse while the other caressed her bare waist. She clutched his shoulders for support, to stay upright.

‘Meri chahat, aadat aur ibadat - sab ban gayi ho tum.’

(You have become my everything - my love, my habit and my worship.)

‘Itna - ki ab dar lag raha hain Jenny, tumhe khone ka dar. Mujhe chod ke toh nahi jaogi na?’

(So much so, that the idea of losing you scares me now. Tell me you won’t leave me?)

She opened her eyes and swiftly covered his mouth with her hand. His eyes were moist, and the said fear was evident in them. It tugged at her heartstrings. How could this silly man possibly think that she would walk away from him? Life without him seemed meaningless, purposeless, loveless, and lifeless. She kissed the top of his eyes and looked at him lovingly.

‘My love - I am yours. I have been yours from the day I met you. You claimed my heart that day, and you claim it more & more with every passing day. Walking away from you is unfathomable to me. You are my everything, Bheem. If it were up to me, I would spend every moment of every day with you and never let you out of my sight. I love you to the moon and back. I will be with you till whenever you want me. But I will be yours forever.’

Jenny leaned in and kissed his lips lightly. That was all the assurance he needed. He kissed her hard till she was breathless and pushed at his chest. His lips then moved to her face, her neck, and shoulders while she gasped for breath. In the next second, she found herself being carried to the cot in his arms. He laid her down gently, settled next to her, and half-leaned over her. His eyes roamed over her saree-clad body - slowly, hungrily, longingly. She shivered and crossed her legs at the alien sensations coursing through her body. When he looked back into her eyes, his orbs had grown a shade darker. The question in them was loud and clear - did she want him tonight? He waited patiently for her to respond as she took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. Her heart was threatening to burst out of her chest. She knew the answer in her heart instantly, but it still took her a few seconds to work up the courage to tell him. She looked back into his intoxicating eyes, brought his hand to her cheek, kissed his palm, and then she gave him a small tentative nod. He held her face with both hands and looked into his eyes beseechingly, asking one more time to see if she was sure. She nodded more firmly this time, and his lips crashed against hers the next instant. As the night bore witness to their love.

..................................................

The rest of the action was supposed to be in this chapter. BUT I CANT STOP WRITING FLUFF AND FEELINGS for 6k words - what happened to the smut writer in me?

Couple of more chapters left in the series, I guess - but who knows, with the way I ramble :)

As always, your thoughts are more welcome!!

@irisesforyoureyes @rambheem-is-real @thewinchestergirl1208 @eremin0109 @eenadu-varthalu @rorapostsbl @anyavaramyr @yehsahihai @budugu @rasnak2 @fadedscarlets @maraudersbitchesassemble @juhiiiiii @justmeand-myinsight @mikabilis @rambheemisgoated @rosayounan @jrntrtitties @obsessedtoafault @rambheemlove @jjwolfesworld @alikokinav @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @bromance-minus-the-b @dumdaradumdaradum @lovingperfectionwonderland @annieginny @chaanv @ssabriel @sally-for-sally @bitchy-bi-trash @milla984 @doodlesofthelastpage @boochhaan @mesimpleone @carminavulcana @filesbeorganized @ladydarkey @meastradeur @teddybat24 @fangirlshrewt97 @stanleykubricks @stuckyandlarrystuff @burningsheepcrown @veteran-fanperson @voidsteffy @ronika-writes-stuff @beingmes-blog @yonderghostshistories @nisreenart

[letsasoiaftogether]

Northern Arrangement Pt 6

IMAGINE...giving birth to Your (Stark!reader) and Roose Bolton’’s son

Word Count: 2,281

Warning: none (it’s not graphic because I’ve never given birth or seen anyone give birth sooo) except for the use of a derogatory word for women (who/re - is mentioned in description/thought, not dialogue) I’m not sure if I need to tag that but on a different writing blog I have, I do so I’ll tag it here as well

A/N: I love Roose Boltonnnnnnnnnn. Also...I finally learned how to do this - > Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 with my links and I’m honestly so disappointed in myself that it took me this long. I’ve been on Tumblr since Sep 2012. Why it never occured to me until now to look up how to change the long url’s - instead of copy and pasting the link - and just posting it into the simple “pt 1″ “pt 2″ etc is....I am ashamed lmao

A/N 2: i hope you all see this as a worthy continuation to this series! I like it but I don’t know if that’s because I like the way its written or because I just love Roose so much I enjoy anything that involves him ;)

(gif isnt mine)

The months following Ramsay’s death at the hands of Roose passed quickly. Soon enough the reconstruction of Winterfell was complete and once more House Stark was returning to its previous strength when it was led by your Father, Eddard Stark. 

The Northern army had returned to the North after six months in the Southern Kingdoms, fortifying the Riverlands against the Lannister forces. After the death of Joffrey Baratheon and Lord Tywin, Prince Tommen took the Iron Throne and no one was truly worried about the boy king. In all honesty, it was Tommen’s mother - Queen Cersei - and the Small Council that worried the North and Riverlands.

Your brother had returned North and gone straight to the Wall to parley with STannis Baratheon two weeks earlier; the Baratheon King had gone to the wall after his defeat in the Battle of the Blackwater and fought alongside the men of the Night’s Watch to fight against the army of Wildlings that had amassed on the Northern side of the Wall.

Something Robb should have done.

“...and he wants me to bend the knee.” Robb was saying as the two of you sat in the great hall of the Dreadfort. Your brother had come to see you after the meeting with Stannis instead of returning to Winterfell; he didn’t like to bother your mother with talk of the war - he felt that she had heard too much and seen too much as it was and that she deserved to just be a mother to your younger four siblings, and you knew the other reason was because you were one of the very few people he could be vulnerable around and wouldn’t have to be concerned about his Lordly/Kingly image.

“Maybe you should.” you whispered, rubbing a hand over your baby bump, “Father wanted him as the King of Westeros. I understand that you did what you had to do in order to get Sansa and Arya back, and to get justice for Father’s murder. But Robb, it is time to be the Lord of Winterfell. Let Stannis Baratheon be King.”

Robb had always hated being king. The Northern Lords would be upset, but they respected the King in the North enough that they would accept him stepping down in time.

And he had been raised to be a Lord and the Warden of the North. He was never raised to rule over two kingdoms. Let alone, he wasn’t even really raised to lead an army. Father had been neglectful in that area. Robb’s success in the South had come from his natural talent as a leader and a fighter, and the Lords who were just as good leaders and had years of experience doing so in Robert’s Rebellion and in the Greyjoy Rebellion.

“Y/n,” Robb began to say only to fall silent, thoughtful. 

You knew your brother well enough to know his natural instinct wanted him to argue with you, to explain why he still needed to be King, but then his rationality kicked in and he didn’t really have a good reason on why stepping down would be some horrific event for the North.

Smiling, you gave his hand a squeeze and got to your feet - wincing at the pain in your lower stomach.

You knew you were in the last few hours of your pregnancy, but the pain hadn't yet reached a point where you felt you needed to be bed ridden.

The pain had started in the very early hours of the morning, but until the pain got worse you had decided not to worry anyone. You remembered when your mother had birthed your youngest brother, Rickon, and she had been in bed for hours - far longer than she needed to.

Letting out a shaky breath, you left Robb to his thoughts and went about your duties; you had refused to let your responsibilities of running the household (as the Lady of a House should) slip.

The guards of the Dreadfort had been slow to warm to you, but the cooks and servants and other smallfolk who worked for House Bolton had taken to you faster than you felt you deserved.

Especially after Ramsay’s death.

Walking the halls of the Dreadfort, you couldn't help but appreciate the quiet. Growing up, Winterfell was always alit with noise. You didn't have a problem with it. You loved it. But you also liked having these moments of silence for yourself.

You were just outside your Lord husband’s study when you felt the sharpest pain you had felt so far.

Gasping, you placed a hand to the wall to steady yourself and catch your breath - letting the pain work its course and then subside before grabbing the door knob and stepping into the room where Roose was working.

Those icy blue eyes met your gaze the moment you stepped inside before flickering down to your stomach.

“Is it time?” you didn’t need to question how he knew. Roose had always been good at reading you, but he had become especially tentative to you in your pregnancy.

Scribbling a few more lines onto the parchment before him, Roose then set the quill down and stood as you said, “For a few hours now, but I think it’s getting closer. It’s probably time to inform the Maester.”

A deep sigh passed Roose’s lips as he looked you over. It was clear that he was far from impressed by your lack of panic over your current situation. 

You just snorted and rolled your eyes. Women had birthed children for all of time. Clearly, you were far more knowledgeable on your own body and your need to labor than your Lord Husband ever could be.

No matter Roose’s thoughts, he kept them to himself and with a hand to your lower back led you to the room just next to the Lord’s chambers where it had been decided you would birth your child. A guard was sent to fetch the Maester and a servant was sent to inform Robb of what was happening.

“All this fuss is a little ridiculous.” you were saying as your handmaidens stripped you down to your shift and helped you into bed, “The babe won't even be here for another hour or - ah!” another round of pain chose that moment to rip through you.

Your screams filled the room for the next several minutes as the pain just seemed to go on and on. It was by far the worst pain you had felt so far.

Maester Tybald, the long-time Maester of the Dreadfort, arrived within minutes and quickly set to work ordering the servants around and beginning his exam to determine when you needed to start pushing.

You didn’t say much, just squeezed Roose’s hand and tried not to be too surprised that he was still in the room with you.

At some point you started to scream and begged to begin pushing.

It was then that Tybald instructed Roose to leave and wait in the hall where you were certain Robb already was. “The babe will be here soon, My Lord, you don’t need to see this.”

You wanted to shout at them both that it wasn’t like seeing a child be brought into the world would curse Roose, but you didn’t. Instead, you took your hand back and instead of clinging to Roose’s, you clutched at the sheets beneath you.

Maester Tybald waited for your next round of pain to end before he and the handful of servants in the room helped you to your feet.

Very early on in your pregnancy you had decided you would give birth standing instead of lying down. It wasn’t the way your Septa had shared with you, but your Mother had given birth to all her children while standing/squatting and so you saw no reason why you couldn’t as well.

“Alright, My Lady, I need you to push when I say and only when I say. Let your body do whatever it feels is natural.” Maester Tybald instructed as everyone got into their positions around you. “Everything will be alright, and soon enough our Lord Bolton will have a son.”

You could only grit your teeth and pray that it would be over with quickly.

*

It was over within an hour and when Tybald announced you had, indeed, birthed a son, you started weeping and happily took your son into your arms once you were cleaned and laid back in bed.

Your son was absolutely beautiful.

Robb visited you for a few minutes afterwards and promised to remember every detail about your son so he could write back to Winterfell about him. He had praised your strength and placed a kiss to your forehead before leaving, passing your Lord Husband as he went.

“My Lord,” you whispered, trying to not appear too tired while giving him a small smile as he slowly crossed the room to the bed, “Come meet your son.” you added, holding your free hand out to Roose once he was close enough.

He said nothing as his icy gaze landed on the bundle in your arms. He stood there, holding your hand in a vice grip for the longest moment before he was taking your son and holding him securely in his arms. He seemed to analyze everything about the baby before, finally, he hummed and gave you a small small. 

“A true mix of Bolton and Stark.” His low tones made it difficult for you to tell if he was disappointed or not, but the way he looked at the baby that second time told you in volumes how much he approved of his third and only living son.

“I have been thinking of names for him.” you informed him, shifting to try and get more comfortable in the position you were sitting in, “I was thinking… Y/s/n after your father. A Bolton name for the heir of the Dreadfort.”

Roose held no emotion still as he looked at you once more, thinking over your words. “Y/s/n.” he repeated it twice more, testing the name, before he nodded “Very well. Y/s/n it is.”

After a few moments of silence, Roose handed your son back to you and sat down on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, he placed a hand to your knee - both comforting and a way to keep your attention. “I never expected to have sons with you, Princess, but I am glad to see you haven’t disappointed me yet. I have grown quite…fond of you. I would hate to change our arrangement now.”

Anyone else may have been confused by his words.

Change your arrangement? You were married! The only way that could happen would be if one of you were to die.

But…of course that’s what he was hinting at. 

You knew that the moment the words passed his lips, others would have been shocked to hear such a thing. 

After all, you were the King in the North’s beloved sister, a daughter to House Stark! How dare Roose Bolton threaten you?

But you weren’t surprised in the least. You expected nothing more of the man you had only ended up in bed with all those months ago so you could save your brother and then somehow ended up married to him when you had only, originally, agreed to be a whore for him. To dishonor yourself so your brother would live.

“Well,” you sighed, holding your son protectively against you, “I am glad that I haven’t disappointed you, My Lord, and I hope that I never do. I too have grown comfortable with our arrangement.”

You met his gaze and held it, defiantly challenging him to speak next.

Roose just raised a brow and chuckled, getting to his feet. 

He crossed the room and only when he was at the door did he turn and say, “Sleep well, Wife, and enjoy the room. It’s the only night you’ll be out of ours.”

The door shut without a sound behind him, and only then did you let yourself let out a shaky breath of nerves. Even after nearly a year of being with Roose in some capacity, he still had the ability to make you panic with just a look. 

But more than that, you let yourself feel sad that he had left so early and that you wouldn’t have him at your side that night. It had been all too easy to grow used to him being at your side. Not having him there, lying silently on his back as his chest gently rose and fell…it was something you were no longer used to.

Placing a kiss to your son’s head, you smiled lovingly down at him and wished him a good night. And then you looked at the closed door and whispered a goodnight to your husband.

Things had definitely been unconventional between the two of you, and if Robb discovered how you and Roose came to be, then Roose would probably be beheaded for treason, but you had made it worked and you…you couldn’t help but admit to yourself that you weren’t entirely displeased with things.

You were the Lady of a major Northern house, you had a son who would be Lord after his father, your husband had never physically harmed you and…really he hadn’t harmed you emotionally or psychologically either - he had simply been straight forward from the get-go, and you had helped to ensure the safety and continuation (through Robb) of your Father’s House.

As the life of a noble lady from a Great House, there wasn’t much to complain about in your life.

And, for now, I’ll take it. 

It’s better than what could have been.

A/N Pt. 2: Thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoyed it! 

If you liked it and enjoy the rest of my content, please consider buying me a kofi at https://ko-fi.com/atlex0616 I am currently trying to save up for a new laptop so I can get my content typed up and posted faster for all of you. 

Please remember my requests are open for one shots, preferences, character asks, and ships!

Thank you so much, stay safe!

[edenmemes]

assassin’s creed valhalla starters

words within ‘()’ are additional, optional choices! more maybe to be added at a later date. some n/sfw present. 

❝ you should see the other man. he got the worst of it. ❞   ❝ and who better to lead us to glory than me? ❞ ❝ i am most at home helping others. ❞       ❝ i’ve waited long enough for you, and you for me. ❞   ❝ thank you for not saying anything about my past. ❞       ❝ know that however far away, you’re always in my thoughts. ❞   ❝ when you see your god, tell them i sent you. ❞   ❝ what you make up in muscles, you’re lacking in spine. ❞   ❝ i almost envy you, to see the world through such a muddy glass and live with such petty concerns. ❞   ❝ i smell the stink of a dozen kingdoms in your beard. ❞   ❝ this feud is not yours, yet you fight it all the same. i find that strange. ❞   ❝ by the look on your face, you have lost your will to live. ❞   ❝ my arms are numb from battle. does it need any dressing?    do you think it is a serious wound? ❞   ❝ oh dear. this is not how i foresaw things. not at all! ❞   ❝ should we take this to your chamber? ❞   ❝ i want this. i want you. ❞   ❝ turn around, walk away, and you keep your insides inside. ❞   ❝ stay back! back! i will fight you! ❞   ❝ you look like reddened shit. what happened? ❞   ❝ i have always wanted to experience the world as you do. ❞   ❝ you come like a valkyrie out of a fog. but i have no dead to give you. ❞   ❝ all right, stay close and do as i do. ❞   ❝ home. or...it was home, once. now it is nothing but bone. ❞   ❝ i’ll have no qualms wiping clean your grin. ❞   ❝ just take care. such hatred can make you careless. ❞   ❝ away from your table for a day and you are already lusting for blood. ❞   ❝ if i did not know any better, i would say you are teasing me. ❞   ❝ the dream of new lands is a powerful lure. ❞   ❝ i love climbing up here. makes me feel as high as a raven. ❞   ❝ if i don’t find your horse, i will steal you a new one. ❞   ❝ i feel somewhat trapped. in this room, in this settlement, in this life. ❞   ❝ you are lost in a sea-storm of your own making. ❞   ❝ the poet in you sings once again. ❞   ❝ tonight, we will eat and drink like gods and wake in a kingdom made new. ❞   ❝ i wish i understood you better. for those i do not understand, i do not trust. (and i cannot stomach a lack of trust.) ❞ ❝ i’ve been called worse. ❞   ❝ you have nothing to fear from me. i bear you no ill will. ❞   ❝ you are a shadow of your father. weak and witless. ❞   ❝ what is this? is this...are we in hell? ❞   ❝ keep company with kings and you will soon have a crown of your own. ❞   ❝ a toothless cub may grow to be a dangerous wolf. ❞   ❝ you are far too young to speak so wise. ❞   ❝ i need clear, sound judgement. i need you. ❞   ❝ kind and courageous people live the best lives, but it can be a difficult path to keep. ❞ ❝ i want to say...i love you. and i have for some time. ❞ ❝ you smell that? the stink of jealousy. (of our budding friendship, i think). ❞   ❝ ah, while i have you, i’m reminded...i have this for you. ❞   ❝ your lies are just like you. big and bold. ❞   ❝ don’t excuse yourself. you enjoy this too much. ❞   ❝ you've come back. why are you wasting your time with me? ❞   ❝ care to sing a song? helps me pass the time. ❞   ❝ that is twice you have earned my admiration. ❞   ❝ you have only the setting sun to tell you when to stop. ❞   ❝ i want to know what you know. name your price. ❞   ❝ people like you deserve something worse than death. ❞   ❝ they called me a lout, a disgrace. they were right. ❞   ❝ i will have to get used to watching the sights of war from afar now. ❞   ❝ there’s no other way. fight or hide. it’s up to you. ❞   ❝ do not think me a coward. i am not afraid of war. ❞   ❝ friendships end. often at the point of a spear. ❞ ❝ i will make you beg as your father begged. ❞   ❝ (until that time,) it would be best to keep all discussions about...    about us to yourself. ❞ ❝ without you i would have lost my way a thousand times. ❞   ❝ you have no other friends. so tread lightly here. ❞   ❝ be it a blessing or a curse, family is always first. ❞   ❝ let’s not walk too far with that idea. i need you right where you are. ❞   ❝ you bested me. yet, i’m the one left standing. ❞   ❝ it’s a pleasure to meet you at least. ❞   ❝ you and your people here have done more for me than i could ever repay. ❞   ❝ you have my highest respect, regard, and trust. ❞   ❝ you’re not shy, are you? ❞   ❝ if we do this, you’ll earn the right to call me friend ten-thousand fold. ❞   ❝ does this have the stench of betrayal to you? ❞ ❝ today has meant so much. we rode, we fought, we drank, we laughed. (you showed me your world.) ❞       ❝ your end was written the moment you came for me. ❞   ❝ i am a sellsword. i ask what i please, and i take what i’m owed. ❞ ❝ you move and i will take your eyes. you hear me? ❞   ❝ i will leap first. on my word, you must follow. ❞   ❝ many times i wished to tell you. wished to say what was in my heart and what i desired. (but duty kept me from it.) ❞   ❝ these wounds will heal quickly. you’re lucky. ❞   ❝ anything to help you feel at home. ❞   ❝ our friendship is the best thing to come from this mess. ❞   ❝ you will be remembered for this, for years to come. ❞   ❝ i thought i had lost you. for good this time. ❞   ❝ you have shown me a great kindness. it is only fitting that i do the same. ❞   ❝ the mess you’re in...you don’t know the half of it. ❞   ❝ you have drawn a dark conclusion about me, haven’t you? (that is all well and good. i’ve drawn some about you as well.) ❞   ❝ you seem...strangely familiar. ❞   ❝ here i am, an upright man who never once learned how to bend the knee. and yet...i shall try. ❞ ❝ that’s a bread knife. do you mean to butter me? ❞   ❝ is that not something you worry over? ❞   ❝ a blind pursuit of vengeance has made you predictable. ❞   ❝ no matter where you are, or how far you travel, i will hunt you down. ❞   ❝ i came for you, looking for a friend and ally. ❞   ❝ people change.    it may be that you change with them, or you go your separate ways. ❞   ❝ i wish you whatever peace you may find in this new life you’ve found. ❞   ❝ i want your word: you will follow my orders. ❞   ❝ the day is new, and the air is bracing. are you ready for the fight ahead? ❞   ❝ er...good to meet you as well? ❞   ❝ what riches are worth so much misery, and the deaths of honorable men and women? ❞   ❝ my destiny is mine to weave. ❞   ❝ my road forward has been a muddy one. slick with blood and tears. (but we can reach its end together.) ❞   ❝ it is a wise leader who considers the needs of others. ❞   ❝ i think my mouth has gotten me in enough trouble today. ❞   ❝ at the end of all things, you will find yourself with nothing but your regrets. ❞   ❝ you saw fit to keep me guessing through your fits of madness. ❞   ❝ by all the gods, what was that? ❞   ❝ i was...restless. a quiet walk alone clears the head. ❞   ❝ when winter is past, summer will come and wind you in a flowered skirt, for you are beauty and shall not wither. ❞   ❝ ...unless you had a more interesting day planned for us? ❞   ❝ i do hope you see it now, for all you have done for me. ❞   ❝ your passion, your strength. i have never met such a burning soul. ❞   ❝ i have no guilt nor regret for what we have done, but we should be careful. ❞   ❝ i see before me a person full of passion, vigor, and a love for their people. ❞   ❝ if i wanted to hear you talk shit, i’d cut out your tongue and shove it up your ass. ❞   ❝ you! you look stronger than most of the others. ❞   ❝ your hatred for me burns bright. i could warm my balls on it. ❞   ❝ you’re quite like your arms: incredibly thick. ❞   ❝ i fought as i do, as hard as i do, to survive. (for i know what awaits us in the end. only darkness.) ❞   ❝ a shameful trick. you are your father’s child. ❞   ❝ you destroyed my life. i will take yours. ❞   ❝ you snore a little, like a wounded bear. ❞   ❝ that’s when i knew i would live and die for you. ❞   ❝ i’m going to pretend your last words were taken by the wind. ❞   ❝ i might still kill you yet, if your prattling doesn’t cease. ❞   ❝ you are weak like your father was weak. (you dance better than you fight.) ❞   ❝ have you ever seen muscles as massive as mine? ❞   ❝ i’m honored by your faith in me. and your confidence. ❞   ❝ after my missteps, i worry what you must think of me. ❞   ❝ with so much blood in the water and death in the air, i’d like to know your name and purpose. ❞ ❝ i have a good feeling about this place. ❞   ❝ you helped me reclaim what i had lost in myself. ❞       ❝ you speak of honor. where’s yours? ❞       ❝ you will throw away all reason to defend what you sworn to. ❞       ❝ you really are like a hero out of folk tales. ❞       ❝ how much would you sacrifice to be freed of fate’s shackles? (would you give your tongue, your hand, your sight?) ❞   ❝ there’s no power strong enough to do what you say. ❞       ❝ please, you must fight for me.    who knows what vile people might come to harm me? ❞   ❝ i have no need to count my kills. they number too many. ❞   ❝ i appreciate you for all of your qualities. ❞ ❝ not even the gods can change fate. ❞       ❝ i think it is time i take my leave. ❞ ❝ you really thought my life was in danger? (and you risked your own life...) ❞ ❝ the path ahead is bright, with glory at its end. ❞ ❝ it is easy to lose one's way on the road to glory. do not let false victories blind you to what is true. ❞ ❝ the act of leaving so beloved a home, there is a sadness to it. ❞       ❝ so there’s nowhere...you call home? ❞   ❝ all things end. ruins are not a warning, they are a testament. ❞   ❝ be nice to sleep in a real bed when this is over. ❞   ❝ in my sleep i dream. and in my dreams i see an end to the doom that will grip the earth once again. ❞   ❝ even when we win, we lose. ❞   ❝ i am as good with my lips, as i am with my tongue. ❞   ❝ is this your idea of a pleasant ride through the country? ❞   ❝ no whispering god brought me here. i brought myself. ❞   ❝ i would like very much to pass some time with you. ❞   ❝ ...and that’s how i got that scar. ❞   ❝ do i now haunt your dreams? ❞   ❝ it was never in their character to lead, it was always within yours. ❞   ❝ so easily wounded by words. imagine the ruin my axe would inflict on your flaccid ego. ❞   ❝ i have felt this way for some time now. i care for you. ❞   ❝ i have not felt safe since then. not really. ❞   ❝ how long have you been chasing me? seventeen winters? eighteen? ❞   ❝ you are not always to be trusted. your passions overcome you. ❞   ❝ i like you. you may help me here or step on me...and by the look of you i’d welcome either. ❞   ❝ it is good to have you in this fight. ❞   ❝ you need only know my impressive scale and flawless build. ❞   ❝ i am better than any man here. ❞   ❝ i can tell by looking at you, you are not a great warrior. (you know it too, there is no reason to deny this.) ❞   ❝ i am looking for honor, and have become lost as a result. ❞   ❝ many apologies. you are no child, simply a frail and fully-grown fool. ❞   ❝ i was stupid, selfish, reckless, blind, boneheaded, and i smell like blood and shit. ❞ ❝ anything to say for the mess you led us to? ❞   ❝ how was your...first kill? ❞   ❝ you squirm like that and my axe will miss your neck! unpleasant for both of us. ❞   ❝ i know you would defy me to the death, fighting for a glorious end.     that i will not allow. ❞   ❝ most men choose to be loud or stupid. impressive, that you managed both. ❞   ❝ you are a great warrior. conquerer of this land and that of your birth. ❞   ❝ you’re chasing shadows like a madman howling at the moon! ❞   ❝ quite a hit you took. how many were lost? ❞   ❝ well fought! even if your wits were somewhat rattled. ❞   ❝ we suffered no losses in this fight, and the men who humiliated us are dead. what is there to say? ❞   ❝ i would like to be close to you. ❞   ❝ if you are a warrior with honor running like sunlight in your veins, then you may help me fulfill my destiny. ❞ ❝ you are a long way from any warm hearth, warrior. Is this where you call home? ❞ ❝ am i to go the rest of my days without love or attention? i think not. ❞   ❝ the gods favor you. they always have. ❞   ❝ the others, they are like clubs. blunt and ungainly, you are nimble, like a knife. ❞   ❝ people with eyes that gleam like yours are always up to something more. ❞   ❝ only a fool stays awake all night worrying. you are tired when you get up, and the problem is still not solved. ❞   ❝ i liked you from the first. i saw something in you that captivated me. (as if a forgotten memory of an old friendship had suddenly resurfaced.) ❞   ❝ you've done nothing but give me your blind word! ❞   ❝ did you bring me any treasure? ❞ ❝ the woodsmoke from your firepit does sting the eyes. but the warmth is welcome. ❞ ❝ it is not something i can speak on. or wish to. ❞ ❝ i'm with you. only say the word. ❞ ❝ until we cut off this serpent's head, it will poison us, day by day, drop by drop. ❞ ❝ get some rest and return here at first light. ❞ ❝ i missed having you at my side. how i wished i could have taken you along on my travels. ❞ ❝ i do not like this, but i will not stop you. ❞ ❝ i have waited too many years for this day. when ___ stands before us, give me the final blow. ❞ ❝ why do you carry such a useless burden? let it go. ❞ ❝ i have waited years for this, but i will not risk losing it through rashness. ❞ ❝ i cannot fathom your game. you are either a young fool...or deceptively wise. ❞ ❝ your confidence blinds you to so much in plain sight. ❞   ❝ it’s good to be here, with you and your people. (i feel my life has found a new road.) ❞   ❝ there has always been war, even among the gods. ❞       ❝ my honor has been stained. until it's wiped clean, i want nothing else. ❞ ❝ i lack the patience for pole fishing. i would have better luck with my bow. ❞   ❝ if we tell all our stories, we’ll be here for a week. ❞ ❝ can you teach me the art of archery? ❞   ❝ bury the past. build the future. ❞       ❝ i missed you. your clear head and your courage. (we have not had enough of both in recent months.)   ❞   ❝ i have a good feeling this war is near its end. ❞ ❝ explain in plain words why you have willfully disobeyed my commands. (do you mock me?) ❞   ❝ the gods favor you. they always have. ❞   ❝ my love for you rises tall and strong, like the tree of life. ❞   ❝ the prize is some of my time. (a walk in nature, maybe more if that is where our conversation takes us.) ❞ ❝ together, we are unstoppable. ❞ ❝ it is natural to fear change. to resist it. (but all things change, and all things end.) ❞ ❝ you said nothing of this to me, not a word. ❞ ❝ so long as men and women fight to secure honor and freedom, their allegiance hardly matters to me. ❞ ❝ i care for you. i do not know how to say it any other way. ❞   ❝ love can burn brighter near death. ❞ ❝ i knew this would be difficult, but sometimes the weight bears down heavily. ❞ ❝ you are young and still foolish, so i will spare you your life. (but cross me again or harm anyone i cherish, and you will join your friends in hell.)   ❞ ❝ if you are as brave as you appear, you will come. ❞ ❝ this is not a natural quiet. it's as if a curse has befallen this place. ❞ ❝ there was a curse here long before i came along. ❞ ❝ we’ll forge a warrior from your softness, hammered on the anvil of war. ❞ ❝ you are different than the kind my flights of fancy attract. burdened, decorated and…delicate. ❞ ❝ i do not know what else to say. m-my memories are faint, hazy. ❞ ❝ how are you doing? you survived a serious blow. ❞   ❝ we’ll weave our sagas together, thread upon thread. ❞ ❝ i try to use my knowledge to help others. i am only a threat to those who fear the unknown. ❞   ❝ slap some moss on that gash and wrap it well. ❞   ❝ a knife to the back is a wound that never heals. ❞       ❝ with me you have wisdom! glory! power! what more do you need? ❞       ❝ if your hell is real, i’m glad you’ll get to see it. ❞   ❝ to fight beside such legends is an honor. (i've only heard tales of your conquests. now i get to live them.) ❞   ❝ i have tried to live well. it is enough that the gods know that. ❞ ❝ a cloud hangs over you. is something wrong? ❞   ❝ you have plunged my city into chaos. ❞   ❝ my sword is gore-greedy. i am ready to fight. ❞   ❝ accept your fate and die a coward, here before your people... and i will spare the rest. ❞   ❝ you would take the rescue for yourself, so the victory song is written about you? ❞   ❝ kneel, and i will spare your life. ❞   ❝ it has been some time. what brings you so far to see me? ❞

[itsthestutterforme]

I Reject You (Ransom Drysdale)

Summary: Ransom has a friends with benefits relationship with Y/N recently learned that she is pregnant with Ransom's pup but rejects him as the father because of how he treated her when they were together.

Notes: GIF is not mine, slight smut, fluff, A/B/O dynamics, mentions of human trafficking, mentions of depression, implied sexual assault (if any of these trigger you, please do not read. Take care of yourselves.)

--

Here you are exactly where you promised yourself you weren't going. As soon as you saw Ransom sitting in your office chair, you knew where this was headed. He picked you up from your job and drove straight to his house.

Your body shakes when he lazily thrusts into your soaked cunt as you both are laying down on your side. Leaning your head against his collarbone, your mouth falls open when he rubs your clit when his thumb.

You follow his hips when he pulls out of you, leaving just the tip in before drilling into you hard and fast. "You are such a slut for my dick aren't you? No matter how many times you say you never want to see me again. You. Are. Mine. Omega." He whispers into you ear and you were starting to see stars.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips as you cum for the fifth time today. His knot pops open and his seed decorated your walls. He pulls out of you and you lay on your back, mustering up the strength to get up but he grabs your chin roughly so you could look at him.

"No one can make you cum like I can. No one." You pull away from his grip and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. You curse at your body for trembling. You needed to get out of there and quick before he notices something is off.

You noticed a different abouf a week ago and went to the doctor. Only to find out that you were pregnant by no other than Ransom Drysdale. The trust fund playboy. There's no way you were going to tell him the baby was his. You needed to end whatever this is and you needed to end it now.

"You smell different," he says, trailing his nose along the curve of your neck. "Is your heat starting?" He asks and you choose not to say anything. What is there to say to a man that calls you a cumslut one second and is worried about your well being, the next?

You stand on wobbly legs and slide on your underwear while in search for the rest of your clothing. "When I talk to you, I expect you to speak." He says, standing from the bed and you jump into your dress pants. When you reach for you blouse, he rips from the your hand and tosses it across the room.

Attempting to get the blouse, a growl emits deep in his chest and you still your movements. You don't meet his eyes but you could feel the anger blossoming in his gaze. He grabs your throat sharply and lowered his head until his blue eyes met yours.

"Speak, Omega." Chills rolls down your spine at his command. "There's nothing to talk to you about." "You could have just said that. You didn't have to ignore me." "I didn't peg you as the sensitive type, Drysdale." You snark, and he allows you to pull his hand away from your throat.

"You're not going to shower before you go like you normally do? What, am I that bad of a person?" "There's nothing normal about this, Ransom. And to answer your question, yes, you are." You walk across the room and button up your blouse.

"What's up with you? You've been acting bitchy all day." "Wow, you talk like you're a ray of sunshine." "You know what, you want me to speak. Fine, I'll speak. Don't talk like you give a shit about me because you and I both know you don't. The only thing you care about is getting your rocks off like a horny little bitch."

Oh your hormones are going to get you in trouble. The omega in you was trembling with fear of what Ransom was going to do to you. He snarls and before you could even think about running, he turns you around and shoves into the nearest wall. His eyes glowing a dreadful crimson as he growled in your face.

"You got a death wish, omega? Who the fuck do you think you're talking to." He snarls and you instinctively expose you neck to him. Your arm maternally drapes over your stomach protectively and he noticed. His eyes lost their glow and he stares down at your stomach with wide eyes.

He takes a few steps back and you could hear his anxious heart pattering in his chest. "Is it mine?" "No," you answer a little too quickly and he raises his eyebrow questionigly. "You're lying," he says, taking a step toward you with his eyes glazing over your mating gland.

"Absolutely not," you snap and he takes another step towards you. "Stop, Ransom. Please don't," you whimper as he blew warm air over your sensitive gland. Something else stirred inside of you that wasn't your omega part of you. It was something more dominant and heavy.

Your hand comes up and in between your neck and his face. Your gripped his face and shoved him as hard as you could with surprising strength. You sent him flying across the room. He initially landed on the bed and bounced off to land in the corner.

A deep, protective roar erupted from your chest and something happened that you dreaded for most of your life. Your eyes were glowing. Your eyes didn't shine a normal golden color. They glowed like a broken mixture between crimson and ogate from an unspeakable past trauma.

"What the hell are you?" He asks as your eyes restore to normal. "Baby," he adds, his features softened. "Stay away from me. And stay away from my pup." You threaten, before sliding on your shoes and walking out the door. You wave down a taxi who drives you back to your house.

"Hey, I stopped by your job and saw you- Y/N, are you okay?" Your mom asks as her eyes settle on your trembling frame. "He found out." You croak, she motions you to sit on the couch and you comply. "He found out about the baby?" She asks. "He found out," you repeat, watching as she realizes what you really meant.

"He saw your eyes?" She asks with disbelief. "He tried to forcefully claim me and I bellowed at him to protect my pup." "What are you going to do? Do you want to leave?" She asks, running a comforting hand down your arm. "I have no idea, Mom. I don't get it. I thought I wasn't able to get pregnant."

"This is a blessing, honey." She says and you shake your head. "It would have been a blessing if the father was a decent human being, but he's not, Mom. He treats me.." you trail off and your mother purrs sadly, resting your face on the sides of hers. "He's a terrible person, Mom. But I need him and I fucking hate it."

"I know, honey. We don't need to figure everything out right now. Take a deep breath." You take a deep breath and a series of sobs escape your lips. You're screwed and everyone knows it.

**

Ransom bounces his leg nervously in his Beemer as he parks outside of Y/N's house. He could smell her, she's in deress and she's feeling an immense amount of sadness. He doesn't even know what he's doing there. It's not like his presence would help anything. She hated him and he doesn't blame her.

He would always call you names and insult your intelligence to keep you rilde up so he wouldn't know how it was to be loved by you. He started to fall for you when you would talk back against his misogynistic tendencies. He loved how your nose crinkled just before you were about to snap on him.

You have guts and you stood your ground, regardless if you were an omega or not. He respected that about you. But now he wanted to show you that he was willing to change for you and that he treated you like shit because he was scared of what your love could to him.

But he knew you. You would tell him to fuck off and leave because that is what he was good at. He had a plan to get you to trust him, but if that doesn't work. He has no idea what to do with himself. With a deep breath, he hops out of his Beemer and stalks towards the front door.

He knocks firmly and he heard footsteps ascending to the door. His heart races in his chest but he swallows it down. The door opens and he meets the gaze of a very angry mother. "How dare you come here?" "I need to see her," "I think you've done enough."

"She's carrying my pup, I can't just leave her." Ransom's explains, desperate to be given the benefit of the doubt. "I've heard terrible stories about you. You trust fund, prick. My daughter made a mistake and I'm sure she'll learn from it without your help." She snaps.

"Did she say that?" "She did," "You're a terrible liar. Just like your daughter." He sighs when she growls defensively at him. "What happened to her? To her eyes?" He asks. "Please, I want to be in her life. She makes my heart tingle and that scares the hell out of me, so I tried to push her away by.."

"By treating her like trash. You have no idea how to deal with women, do you?" She asks and he shakes his with defeat.

"Come in," she says with a sigh. Ransom walks into the house much smaller than he's used to. That's what a family house looks like. The entire living room is the size of his walk in closet. But he understands why Y/N would call it home. "Stay here, I'll be right back." Y/N's mom says before disappearing down the hall.

He sits down on the side of the couch where your scent is the strongest. His eyes fall to the shut door closest to the kitchen. Your scent dripped from the room and it took everything in him not to burst in there and pull you into his arms.

Y/N's mom returns with a thin stack of newspapers. The looked to be a few years old by the font and the faded lettering in some places. The newspaper crinkles in his hands as he read the headline on the first page.

HUMAN TRAFFICKING VICTIM FOUND AFTER 7 YEARS. Below the headline was a picture of a young girl with bruises litering her face as she pulled the blanket close to her.

The most heart wrenching part about the picture was how hollow her eyes looked. It was like looking into a dark tunnel with no light at the end of it. Whatever she experienced ruined whatever childhood she had left. Ransom's eyes scan over the article and flipped through the rest of the pages, growing angrier the more he read.

"How long ago was this?" Ransom asks. "Five years ago. She was twelve when she was taken." Ransom shakes his head with disbelief and sets the newspaper on the table in front of him. "Can I see her, please?" He asks desperately.

"She hasn't moved since she came back from your house a week ago. She barely talks and eats. Hopefully you have better luck than I do." She says, motioning for the door.

Ransom stands up and opens the door within a few strides. Goosebumps littered his skin when he inhales Y/N's miserable musk. Tears threatened his eyes but he wiped them away quickly. She already been through hell and Ransom made it worse by treating her the way he was. She deserved better than him.

"Y/N?" Ransom starts but Y/N doesn't move a muscle. Her bed covers were draped over her entire body, leaving a small opening above her head so she could breathe. Her breathing was barely audible, she could easily be mistaken as dead. The room was dim from the closed curtain and lack of light.

Not knowing what to say, he decides he was going to stay there with her. Maybe.. hopefully.. his prescence is enough to comfort her because he has no idea how to do that as he was never comforted as a child. He was just told to suck it up and stop being a baby. He's a Drysdale. And Drysdale's aren't weak.

He shrugs off his peacoat and pulled off his cable knit sweater. He stepped a little closer to admire her nest but notice the lack of his scent. He drapes his cable knit over the headboard of her bed. Not wanting to push his luck, he walked away from the bed and slid down the wall a distance away from you.

He smiles when he hears you purr softly in your sleep as you notice his scent. "Baby, I'm going to stay here with you, if that's okay." Ransom says and you continued to purr. Guess that wasn't a terrible sign.

Later that night, Ransom left your house to grab a week's worth of clothes plus an assortment of clothes you could add to her you. You still haven't said anything but your vile scent of shame and sadness has lessened.

When Ransom came back, Y/N's mom offered him the guest room but Ransom claimed it was too far from her. So she pumped up an air mattress for him. He's spent every day in the room with Y/N without saying a word. One day, Ransom came back with sushi for lunch to see you out of bed.

You froze when you saw him down the hallway after closing the door to the bathroom. "You came back earlier than I expected," you say and a sigh of relief leaves his lips. You both stay in your spots and stare at each other, waiting for someone to make the first move.

"I'm not good at comforting people. But I am good at telling people what I know. And I know that I feel like absolutely shit for how I treated you. And I know what happened to you when you were younger. Why your eyes are the way they are." He starts. "The fact that you can stand up for other people despite your past makes you strong. A strong mate and a strong mother." He adds.

He sets the sushi on the counter and you shove your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants. "We're not meant to be parents, Ransom. This could be the worst thing that could happen to us." She explains. "Or the best thing. I don't know about you, but I've been looking for a change. And then I met you and that was the change I was looking for." He explains.

You eye him suspiciously, unsure of where this verbal affection came from. "Why are you saying these things? Did my mom put you up to this? I told her I would be fine." You say, walking down the hall and into your room. "She didn't put me up to this. And no, you're not fine." He says, leaning against your door frame.

"Baby, we're in this together." "I don't trust it. I don't trust you. I've seen what you're capable of and the way you treat people. And I will be damned if I let you treat my pup like that."

"Your pup?" "My pup," you repeat, placing a hand on your stomach. His gaze falls on your stomach and he nods to himself like he's making a decision in his mind.

"Mark me," he says, taking off his pea coat, cable knit sweater and tank top underneath that. He sets on the air mattress and nears you slowly. "What? No." "I'll honor the bond. I'll be yours and only yours. I won't mark you unless you want me to. Just please, mark me."

"This is insane," you start and takes your hand to place on his cheek. He inhales the scent of your pulse point on your wrist before placing your hand on his mating gland. You shake your head no and he sits down, pulling you into his lap and burying your face into his neck.

Your inner omega takes over and you wrap your arms around his neck. "Alpha," you whimper. "Oh, omega. I'm so sorry, baby." He whispers. He stares up at the ceiling as he tries to hold back his tears but it was no use. He always thought that he was fucked up because Linda never showed him any affection as a kid.

But to hear about what you experienced as a kid. The fact that you had nothing and you had your will and autonomy stripped from you. Ransom's autonomy was the only thing he felt like he truly had. He rubbed circles on your neck and you sigh into his. He learned that from a Google search he did but you didn't know that.

You pull away from his neck and cupped his cheeks, pressing a warm kiss on his soft lips. You were desperate for each other's touch, but it wasn't in a sexual way.

It was more like a tending to an internal scratch. Your eyes fluttered closed and he lifted your chin to deepen the kiss. Your tear stained cheeks rubbed against his and his tongue swiped against your lip, begging for access.

You glady give him the access he needed and his happy hummed vibrated your chest. He pulled away slowly and held you gaze before exposing his neck to you. You couldn't believe your eyes. The Ransom Drysdale was exposing his neck to you. Submitting to you. Maybe he wasn't bluffing after all.

You ghost your fingers over his mating gland and he sighs at the touch. You look to him and he nods, encouraging you to continue. Your tongue darted out to moisturize your dry lips and press a kiss to the sensitive skin. You purr as you inhale his musk of honey and crackers, his favorite childhood snack.

."Y/N, please." Giving him one last look before sinking your teeth into his neck, his mouth falls open and you bite down harder until you could taste the metallic drops of his blood.

You lick away the droplets of blood escaping the wound before pulling away. You lick away the blood from your lips and expose your neck to him but he gripped your chin and shook his head.

"You have to want it." He says sincerely. You barely recognize the Ransom in front of you. His ogate eyes dilate as they met your Y/E/C eyes. And in that moment you realize that Ransom was just as broken as you were. He truly was yours.

[foilfreak]

Beauty and Her Beast: Chapter 7 (aka the ‘big boobie vampire mommy’ and ’mutant servant girl that is very horny for her’ chapter)

WARNING PLZ READ BEFORE CONTINUING: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(AO3 link below:)

“Good evening, sir. Is there something I can assist you with, tonight? It’s quite late, and my mistress has already retired for the evening due to the strenuous nature of today’s events, so while I’m sure the good Lady Dimitrescu won’t be too terribly displeased if you’ve come with urgent news that requires her immediate attention, I’m afraid anything outside the realm of absolute importance will have to wait until morning, when my mistress will be better rested and therefore better able to address whatever concern you’ve brought” The low and smooth voice of an older teenage girl said, staring slightly downward at Salvatore with a level of such blank indifference that he would have wondered if the girl hadn’t seen him had she not outright greeted him upon opening the door.

With piercing red eyes, dark skin and long, black curls tied up neatly and carefully into two thick buns on either side of the top of her head, and dressed in a pretty, but still practical dress, the older teen looked every bit as much the role of a dignified estate’s head servant as she acted, right down to the pencil straight stiffness of her body. Despite how uncomfortable the stiff position looked to Salvatore, the subtly bold way she carried herself did give the older teen an air of confidence and reliability, however what it didn’t do was answer the multitude of questions flying around in Salvatore’s head about who she was, and more importantly, where she came from.

And then it hit him.

“Y-you’re… Alcina’s g-gift… aren’t y-you?” Salvatore asks aloud, though seemingly more to himself than the girl standing in front of him. Said girl furrows her brows in confusion for a moment before huffing in, what appeared to be, mild offense. Though what on earth Salvatore could have done to offend the young teen, he had absolutely no idea.

“I have no idea what you mean when talking about these so called “gifts”, however I think it's important for you to know that I am a very busy woman with a great many things to do, so if this is all some kind of sick game you’re playing to waste my time then I’m going to have to politely ask that you take your rotten whale behind and go throw yourself into the nearest body of-”

“Anastasia?” a low, feminine voice booms from somewhere behind the older teen standing before him. The girl immediately stiffens, her skin around her nose and cheeks darkening even further, her eyes growing wide and her breath catching in her throat as she turns around. Immediately abandoning Salvatore at the still open front door, the young servant clumsily made her way further into the room before disappearing out of the narrow view the hooded man had been given of the castle through the crack in the door.

Taking a step forward and opening the door enough to slip inside, making sure to close it securely behind him, Salvatore lingered along the walls of the room, merely observing the events before him unfold as the young girl, Anastasia, quickly moved to stand in the center of the circular design on the floor of the entrance hall. Waiting for her on the landing at the top of the stairs was none other than the lady of the house herself, Alcina Dimitrescu, standing as tall, proud, and intimidating as Salvatore last remembers, though it would appear that the disfigured man’s fear of the much larger woman was not shared amongst everyone in the room.

“Y-yes Lady Dimitrescu! Is there something I can do for you this evening, my Lady?” Anastasia asks, hands clasped together in front of her and eyes blown wide at the gargantuan woman leering from above, like a lovesick puppy dog waiting for a command from its beloved owner. Eager to perform. Eager to please.

“Why yes, my sweet, I was just wondering what on earth all that racket was and if it could wait until morning to be finished? The girls and I have had quite the taxing day and I do so wish to retire to the sound of peace and quiet” Alcina coos warmly, causing Salvatore to pause in confusion.

“Oh goodness, I apologize, mistress. It’s just that there was a visitor at the door and despite my repeated attempts to convince him to come back when you were rested, he insisted upon making a nuisance of himself. Please forgive me if my attempts to preserve your restful evening were for naught” the girl said sadly, bowing deeply in apology as she continued to speak.

Alcina practically purrs in delight at the teen’s polite, but genuine behavior. “Fear not, my dear, I had only just taken off my earrings when I heard the commotion. I came out here merely to see if things were getting out of control, but it would appear as though you’ve handled things perfectly.”

The girlish blush on Anastasia’s face only darkens in color as the young teen casts her adoring gaze to the floor, joyous glee from having been praised by her mistress evident all over the younger girl’s body.

Not wanting to stay here any longer than absolutely necessary, especially if this is what he’d have to witness the whole time, Salvatore gathers all of his strength and uses it to clear his throat and take a step forward, revealing himself to both women as he gingerly comes out into the light.

“YOU!” Anastasia yells, immediately turning on her heel and making a beeline toward the increasingly anxious Salvatore. “So not only have you made enough of a nuisance of yourself to disturb the lovely Lady Dimitrescu just as she’s about to retire and rest from a very long and taxing day, but now you’ve decided that you’re so above everyone else that you can just waltz right into someone else’s home without even the slightest hint of respect or admiration for the incredible woman living in it, how dare you be so crash and selfish you overcooked blowfish, exit this castle immediately, or I’ll shove my boot so far up your rear end you’ll be fishing around for it for weeks you-”

“Anastasia, calm yourself, dear” the loud, but calming sound of Alcina’s voice said, causing the young teen to pause in her angry scolding of Salvatore.

“My Lady?” The young teen asks, dutifully awaiting orders.

“Let the wretched man inside, he’s the furthest thing from a threat to us, even if he is an annoying little manthing. Although, I’d be lying if I said a visit from you at this hour of night is something I’ve come to expect of you, dearest elder brother.”

The disfigured man swallowed thickly as he stepped past Anastasia to fully face his other younger sister, who looked all the more intimidating from her looming perch upon the upper story.

“I-I know this is s-sudden…” Salvatore begins, hoping he’d at least be able to explain himself before Alcina tossed him back outside on his ass.

“I’ll certainly say” Anastasia bursts in angrily, but she’s quickly silenced and sent away to tend to her other duties by Alcina, who motions for Salvatore to ascend the large set of stairs leading up to the rest of the castle and join her on the landing for a moment.

“Spunky little thing, isn’t she?” Alcina says when Salvatore finally makes it to the top of the stairs, panting slightly as he follows the much taller mutant’s gaze to the door that Anastasia had just exited the room from.

“Th-that’s certainly… one way… o-of putting it” Salvatore stutters, not wanting to offend Alcina by calling her servant rude, but clearly not seeing what’s so great about someone who just yells at you a lot the second you walk through the door.

“Yes! She apparently received a strain of cadou that was quite similar to mine, however her need to consume blood to maintain herself is far more similar to that of leeches. Rather than having to consume it regularly in smaller doses, like myself, she’ll only require one feeding every few weeks or so, which I thought was quite interesting. The only issues Mother Miranda brought up was the fact that her hunger, if it gets bad enough, can trigger both her transformation, as well as some sort of feral and animalistic meltdown that only ends once she’s finally had her fill. Apparently more than a few villagers were lost in the process of learning this information” Alcina comments casually, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Mother only brought her over earlier today, just before dinner, and yet she’s already managed to carve quite the little space for herself here. I hadn’t realized how dirty this place was without any girls left to take from the village until she went through and washed all the walls in the west wing spotless. It was like night and day, I could hardly believe how open and bright the halls looked” Alcina stated.

“W-wow… so th-then… d-do you think y-you’ll keep her a-around… long term?” Salvatore asks curiously, craning his neck so he could get a better look at his sister’s face.

“Perhaps. I’m certainly thinking about it. Not only is she an incredibly hard and fast worker, but she’s also got such a lovely spark of energy and excitement to her, and she’s always very polite and respectful, if a bit obvious in her “admiration” of those she looks up to… not that that’s a bad thing, necessarily. It’s quite sweet, actually!”

“S-she did look… q-quite taken… by y-you” Salvatore comments, having noticed the girl’s far-too-eager-to-be-innocent disposition when Alcina was in the room, vs. when it was just him. Not that it was a terribly surprising turn of events. Alcina, for all her monstrous height and sheer mutant bulk, was still a very beautiful, and very desirable woman at the end of the day, meanwhile Salvatore was only about 2 rolls of the genetic dice away from sharing a more recent common ancestor with the blobfish than he did humans.

“I know, isn’t she adorable? She came exactly like this, too. Mother Miranda has no idea if this is a result of the mutation process or if it's merely her former personality finally returning now that she’s awake and out of containment, but I suppose the logistics of things aren’t really important in the end. I'm so glad I chose her over the other two, I don’t know what I would have done had such a promising and delectable little morsel like her go to waste on the rest of you imbeciles” Alcina coos in amusement. “Regardless of what Mother Miranda said however, I was almost certain this whole “gift” situation was going to be nothing more than a pile of useless drivel that I’d be left to clean up all on my own once the novelty wore off, however after having Anastasia here for these past few hours, and seeing all that she’s willing and capable of doing, I’m beginning to wonder if perhaps I’d been too hasty in my final decision.”

“Funny… K-Karl thought m-much the… th-the same thing i-initially… w-when I t-talked to him… th-the other day… th-though… knowing him… I doubt h-he’s having q-quite as much… of a ch-change of heart… as you a-are” Salvatore said suddenly, more than anything due to the incredible shock that was the concept of Alcina and Karl sharing a similar opinion, at the same time, while both occupying the same dimension of reality.

Alcina’s face immediately turns sour at the mention of Karl. “Oh, did he now? That’s an unfortunate thing to learn,” she says in annoyance, clearly displeased by the notion of agreeing with Karl on anything.

“Y-yes… he… he th-thinks that maybe… M-Mother might b-be using the g-gifts… to d-distract us w-while she’s g-gone away… o-on her mission… b-but that maybe… sh-she also wants… s-something else out of a-all this… something… th-that she isn’t t-telling us… f-for some reason” Salvatore explains, unsure if he should be revealing all this information to Alcina, notorious and open critic of Karl and quite literally everything the younger man has ever done and said, is doing and saying, and will do and say sometime in the span of his chaotic lifespan.

Contrary to what Salvatore assumed, however, instead of looking bored and uninterested in what Karl thought about this whole situation, Alcina looked just the slightest bit… intrigued, if still clearly wary. “Really? And what, pray tell, does our dear sweet little brother Heisenberg believe will come of this whole situation then? Did he say?”

“H-he… he never m-mentioned anything s-specific… but he th-thinks that the g-gifts… might p-play a l-larger role… in all th-this… than M-Mother has been l-leading us to believe.”

“I see,” Alcina says, remaining silent for a moment as she thinks, looking almost concerned by what she’s heard. “And what do you think of this whole mess, Salvatore?”

“U-um… well… I-I think it’s nice… th-that Mother trusts us e-enough… to g-give us her p-previous experiments… and u-use them however w-we want… b-but I’d be l-lying if I s-said… that I d-didn’t think Karl… was o-onto something… I-I don’t know w-what I believe to be t-true a-at the moment… but I d-do know… th-that I’d like t-to give… g-give a gift of m-my own… to Nadine… and that… and that y-you might be… s-someone else who c-could help me… w-with that” the hooded man explains nervously, hoping that Alcina was in a good enough mood to feel like humoring him and his sudden request.

“Nadine?” The tall, pale woman asks in confusion, before suddenly nodding in understanding. “Ah, your gift…”

Salvatore nods. “D-Donna… is f-fashioning a n-new dress… for her… a-and even gave me… this b-beautiful nightgown… to hold h-her over until… until the real one is c-complete. I th-think she w-will… e-enjoy the nightgown b-but… but I’d like to… l-like to get her something else t-too… like a… like a necklace… a-a gold one… o-one that w-would… c-complement her skin tone… j-just right.”

Alcina briefly stares at Salvatore with a blank expression, momentarily making the hooded man worry that he’d overstepped his boundaries and said something to offend the much larger woman. His nerves are thankfully calmed when Alcina turns and orders Salvatore to follow after her, which the disfigured man happily does if it means what he thinks it means.

The two siblings arrive at Alcina’s personal chambers just as Anastasia is exiting them, her arms filled by a large basket of blood soaked towels and clothes, some collected from Alcina’s room, the others likely from either Bela, Cassandra, or Daniela’s rooms.

“Good evening, Lady Dimitrescu! Are you finally retiring for the evening?” Anastasia asks, bowing cheerfully as she finally notices her mistress approaching her. “I’ve already gone ahead and prepared your bed for you, as well as collected all the soiled laundry from today’s harvest. Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?”

“Thank you, my dear, but not quite, I have one more matter to attend to before I fully turn in. Since you were so kind to offer however, I would greatly appreciate it if, once Lord Moreau and I are finished with our affairs, you would be so kind as to escort him to the front door and bid him a good night, for me. You are free to retire to your own chambers for the evening once he’s left” Alcina orders softly, which the young girl obediently nods her head to.

“Of course, mistress, thank you very much! And I’d be happy to see Lord Moreau out for you, so please don’t hesitate to call me once you’re finished with your meeting” Anastasia says, bowing lowly to both Alcina and Salvatore before wordlessly skittering off to do… whatever it was she planned on doing to those dirty garments.

“Now, about that gift you were talking about” Alcina says upon entering her personal bedroom, immediately striding over to her vanity and beginning to sift through several boxes worth of jewelry, “you said you wanted gold, correct? And a necklace specifically?”

“Y-yes! I-if you have anything y-you’re willing to… g-give away… of course… I’d feel t-terrible taking something i-if it meant a g-great deal to you” Salvatore answers, standing awkwardly in the doorway as he waits for Alcina to return to him with whatever she finds.

Of all 3 of his siblings, Alcina was the one Salvatore was easily the least close to, despite having been the only two around for a considerable amount of time before the eventual arrivals of both Donna and then Karl. It wasn’t that Salvatore was displeased when Mother Miranda first informed him that he’d be getting a “sibling” all those years ago, but Alcina’s natural personality, coupled with her terrifying size and strength from the mutations, had made the very meek and timid Salvatore hesitant to reach out and form any kind of sibling bond with the younger woman, like he had with Karl.

Karl was a royal pain in the ass to deal with on even his best days, but at the end of it all, there’s still only so much a 6 year old can do to you, anger issues and mutant metal bending powers or not. Alcina was both a royal pain in the ass to deal with more often than not, but also a fully grown adult when she first joined the family, so needless to say the 2 oldest siblings hadn’t been given very many appropriately opportune moments to bond or get along.

That being said however, the simple but elegant golden locket that Alcina procures from one of her many boxes of jewelry has Salvatore wondering if maybe he had misjudged Alcina, having never expected her to show him something as luxurious and real-looking as this, especially when the understanding was that she’d be giving it away whatever item of jewelry Salvatore took a liking to.

“This is an old locket I received for my 3rd birthday from a relative who died long before I was old enough to care about who they were, though all those diamond star details on the front do make me think they could have been close with us at one point, or perhaps they just had that much money to throw around? It’s an old and well-loved piece of my collection, but Duke has been bringing back such wonderful treasures from his travels that I just have to start getting rid of some of these old sentimental trinkets so I can make room for all the new additions I plan on purchasing once he finally returns” Alcina explains, gingerly handing the necklace over to Salvatore, who could do nothing but gawk at how extravagant and, to be perfectly honest, expensive the necklace looked.

With 4 small diamonds, likely real knowing Alcina, embedded into the surface of the locket’s front cover, surrounded by small engravings that give the glimmering stones the appearance of stars in the night sky, the necklace looked like it belonged upon the neck of a fair and noble princess, into which the radiant beauty could then place the photo of the man who’d stollen her innocent heart. Nadine wasn’t actually a princess and Salvatore all but gagged at the idea of a picture of his face, mutated or not, being put somewhere for anyone to see, however the necklace was far too perfect for the hooded man to possibly turn it down.

“So what do you think? Will something like this do?” The taller woman asks, curiously. “I could continue looking if that isn’t quite what you’re after, however if that is the case, then I would like to politely request that you come back and look at them tomorrow. It's already so late and I’d have to have the rest of my collection fetched from the vault downstairs.”

“N-no no… th-that’s alright… this i-is perfect… thank y-you… Alcina… this w-was very k-kind of you to do… f-for me” Salvatore says, carefully tucking the glittering necklace into the bag Donna had placed the nightgown in.

“Don’t fret about it too much, I only did it because I had a bit of time to spare prior to going to bed, and you happened to catch me in a good mood. That’s it” Alcina states firmly, though something in the back of Salvatore’s head can’t help but take the taller woman’s words with a grain of salt, feeling as though there was more to Alcina’s sudden generosity than just pure coincidence. “Besides, who knows what gaudy thing you’d have shown up with had you not made the surprisingly wise decision to invoke Donna’s and my vastly superior knowledge of the feminine experience. I don’t even want to think of what tacky little trinket you’d have tried to gift her. Why the thought of that alone is enough to make me want to run for the hills, how on earth do you think your poor little gift would have felt? I’d have had to murder you on the spot if I found out you tried to pass some disgusting pile of garbage off as an appropriate gift. In fact, if I didn’t know that Donna was working on a more fitting dress for her already, I’d have half a mind to skin you alive for only having a flimsy nightgown to take back with you, but I doubt any of the dresses I have, that would be appropriate to wear with that kind of necklace anyways, would come close to fitting her, and I really do want to start making room for some newer, more exciting pieces. So, with all that in mind, count your blessings that the stars have aligned in your favor tonight, dear brother, because I won’t be doing this for you again… unless, you’d be willing to do me a few favors in exchange for some of the other pieces of my collection, that is.”

Aaaaaaaaaaand there’s the Alcina that Salvatore knows and secretly likes. In vehement denial that she feels anything positive for her 3 siblings and also actively trying to get someone else to do her dirty work for her. It's certainly not how the hooded man prefers to operate, but he supposes that if Alcina can somehow convince everyone around her to do all of her work for her, why wouldn’t she take advantage of that as much as possible?

“I-I think that’s e-enough… for t-tonight actually… maybe i-if I decide I’d l-like to get her s-something else… I’ll c-consider that offer y-you brought up” Salvatore says, bowing politely to his sister as he makes his desire to leave obvious.

Thankfully, Alcina seems more than happy to send her older brother on his way, calling Anastasia to come lead Salvatore back to the front door so he could finally begin making his way home.

“Th-thank you again… Alcina… I really a-appreciate this… an-and I'm sure Nadine w-will love the gift t-too” Salvatore says just as he’s about to bid Alcina goodnight and begin following the young servant girl.

“Yes, yes, you’re very grateful of my wondrous kindness to you, I know, you’ve made that fact more than clear already, brother” the taller woman says with an only mildly annoyed roll of her eyes as she stands just outside the door to her chambers. “Just make sure you don’t waste the opportunity my graciousness has afforded you, do you understand?”

Salvatore stiffens nervously as Alcina shoots him a pointed look that screams ‘don’t fuck this up or I’ll fuck you up’, a threat which the hooded man knows she’ll make good on, should Salvatore make it necessary for her to do so. Salvatore wasn’t sure how Alcina had picked up on the nature of his budding affections for Nadine so quickly, or how she seemed to instinctively know what he was planning despite having never asked directly, but clearly she’d noticed something and was now in the process of making the matter of whether Salvatore successfully courted his gift her business.

Heavens above have mercy upon whomever is unlucky enough to have their problematic situation noticed and meddled with by Alcina Dimitrescu.

“Y-yes… I u-understand… an-and I’ll be s-sure not to w-waste... waste the g-golden opportunity you’ve g-given me… OH! An-and Donna w-wants her mannequins b-back... too… sh-she wanted m-me to tell y-you” Salvatore replies, his anxiety only mildly calmed when Alcina makes a face at the mention of Donna’s yet-to-be-returned-still mannequins.

“Oh for goodness sakes, I always forgot about those stupid things. Anastasia?”

“Yes, Mistress?” The young servant dutifully answers.

“Please make a note to remind me to have Heisenberg come by so he can collect and return the manequins Donna leant me while I was commissioning some dresses from her earlier this month. That foul-mouthed mutt owes me a favor, and so if all goes the way I’d like I’ll be making this his problem in the morning” Alcina says devilishly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Of course, Lady Dimitrescu, I’ll be sure to remind you of that first thing tomorrow morning” Anastasia replies warmly, though her amicable grin is quickly replaced by a flush and a girlish giggle when Alcina waves and turns on her heel, swaying her hips in an obvious fashion before bending down to enter through the door of her chambers.

Salvatore passed exceptionally confused glances back and forth between his sister and the young servant standing in front of him, totally clueless as to what just unfolded a moment ago as a feeling of disgust, the kind you get when you see something you wish you hadn’t, began to curl in the pit of his stomach. Whatever it was that was going on in the Dimitrescu house, and more importantly with their new servant girl, it was clearly none of Salvatore’s business. Not that he’d wanted it to be in the first place.

Salvatore had enough problems to deal with regarding his own gift, he didn’t have time to worry about whether or not Alcina was already making moves on hers.

“Have a safe journey home, and do make sure to stop by with Nadine if things turn out well between the two of you. Based on how today played out, it would seem as though things are about to get a lot more interesting around here… and a lot more fun too. Goodnight, Dear Brother” is all Alcina says before gently closing the door to her chambers, effectively ending their conversation without so much as a single word from Salvatore, not that he minded being handed the chance to finally get out of here, especially after… whatever the hell that exchange between Alcina and Anastasia was.

Best not to think too hard about it, probably, especially when there was another woman back at the reservoir who was much more deserving of Salvatore’s lustful and impure musings.

“Uuum… the front door is this way… Lord Moreau,” Anastasia says suddenly, her face still dark from embarrassment, though whether it was from her earlier treatment of him before she learned he was another Lord and not just some random man from the village, or from… that thing he just saw that he doesn’t feel like thinking about anymore, the hooded man couldn’t tell.

Nor did he particularly care to find out.

[vivithefolle]

What are your favourite fanfic tropes/aus for romione?

(I’m gonna try to make my way through old asks I received AGES ago and never answered because I’m a procrastinating lump. Here’s betting I’m going to give up and play videogames all day instead.)

Oh my god, so many.

Okay so as a rule of thumb as long as it’s nice to Ron I’ll read it. I’ll read anything. I have been known to read Ron/Draco and even sacrificed my dignity and everything I stand for as a human being by reading some Ron/Snape stuff. Yes. I was THAT desperate. This is how low I’m willing to go because of sheer love for Ron.

Which means that when a fic will go “oh poor Hermione, poor Hermione who is waiting for Ron to grow up because She can see one day he could be worth it but for now he’s all dumb-dumb and inferior and doesn’t deserve Her perfection :(”, I will be judging. Judging very hard. I may not leave a comment but rest assured, my thoughts are loud enough for me. This is 2010s mentality. This is “haha I’m so like Hermione, not like other girls who throw themselves at boys, I’m so special and girl powery :)” Horribly Bad Feminism. Fuck that. We’re doing better now.

Speaking of doing better. Recently I read something about how Ron is, paraphrased, “the brute of the Trio”, spun in a positive way since he uses his strength to protect them but, but, still... please no? Just no! Just eff no with these takes about how Ron is a hypermasculine dudebro M For Manly™! No, no, fucking no! Just because he’s the Sulfur to Hermione’s Mercury and Sulfur represents the masculine component to Mercury’s feminine one, DOESN’T MEAN Ron is “the brute”! (”the” brute... seriously... who’s the more brutish one, the one who punches a racist in the face or the one who uses a torture curse as retribution for spitting on his fave teacher?)

The way I see him, Ron is a balance, a blend of feminine and masculine qualities intertwined close together. I LOVE that he can swear like a sailor but can only say “scarlet woman” or “cow” when it comes to insulting a woman. Some will probably see it as “hurr durr he sexist he doesnt think women can take it!!!!!!! >8C” but given that those are probably also the peeps who say “HE CALLE D HERMOANI A NIGHTMURRR!!!!!!! DDDDD8″ I’m gonna venture the idea that we don’t care about those folks’ biased, sexist opinions.

Where was I going with this... oh yes! Ok, so Ron can swear like a sailor yet couldn’t insult a girl to save his life. He’s strong physically but most of all he’s strong mentally (to put up with the way his friends treat him for years speaks a lot of his mental fortitude... and to top it off he comes back for more to boot! I’m not sure if that’s more mental fortitude or straight-up masochism though.) When he succeeds at things he gets a bit attention-whoreish but at the same time, you can see that when he’s being complimented he’s all unsure of himself and blushy and shy and you just, dude you can’t handle positive attention because you don’t know how to react to it I don’t know whether that’s adorable or the saddest thing I’ve seen in my life? He’s insecure but he’s always the first to cheer on Harry and Hermione when they’re doing something great, which speaks VOLUMES of Ron’s selflessness and of his actual character: to quote @peetamaellark​, Ron doesn’t think “Harry is great, therefore he sucks and I hate him”, he thinks “Harry is great, therefore I suck and I hate me”. THIS is Ron. THIS is why Ron will lash out, not because he hates Harry, but because internally he hates himself and you can’t keep that sort of feeling bottled up for too long before... you got it, you explode.

I. Want. More. Fics where Hermione isn’t this ~oh dear~ Victorian damsel in distress who cries and Ron is the Big Strong Man who holds her with one arm and is stony-faced and goes “I’ll protect you”, please no that was old before it existed, let us have nice, realistic depictions of Ron and Hermione please.

Like, Hermione is more than capable of kicking butt herself. She IS absolutely nervous and scared and cries easily and that’s a vulnerability we NEED, but the fact that she can be super scared and crying but still hex her opponent into oblivion? THAT’s good, THAT’s excellent. It’s a very important message for girls, I think. “You can cry, you can be sensitive, you can be emotional, AND you can still kick butt”. And as important as that message is for girls, it’s also a very important message to give boys, because boys are socialized to “never cry” and that’s super unhealthy. I love Ron’s admiration of Hermione. I love the way Ron hesitates, the way he can be cautious when he needs to as much as he can be reckless and impulsive. I love how he shows himself to be a big softie and a sweet soul. I don’t think that makes him an “emasculated doormat” (to quote a guest I once saw on FFN), on the contrary it makes him an even better man in my eyes. You know why I love the locket scene so much? Because Ron’s tears aren’t ridiculed. Ron gets to cry about the terrible ordeal he’s been put through, and while Harry “pretends he can’t see Ron cry” because it’s more comfortable for him personally, he doesn’t try to tell Ron to “man up” or anything. His reassurance is pretty lousy but he lets Ron cry, he lets his friend be upset, and he doesn’t try to invalidate Ron’s pain. (ok, the “I thought you knew” is kiiiiinda on the way there, but it stops at that and I’m grateful for it).

I like. Seeing Ron distressed. I like seeing Ron upset and be allowed to be upset. I like to see Ron’s pain treated with respect. So when Ron is having a shit day I like to see him get a cuddle. I like seeing Ron go through horrible ordeals and break down and for his breakdown to be properly acknowledged and not turned into insensitive comic relief (ISN’T THAT RIGHT, LATTER HALF OF THE SILVER DOE????). I mean seriously, just imagine GOF, Harry sitting in the hospital wing after Cedric’s death, Molly Weasley gives him a hug and it’s all very sad and angsty. And now picture Ginny running into the room screaming “HARRY JAMES POTTER” and punching him over and over and saying “PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER MAN, PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER” then after two pages of Harry “explaining” himself to Ginny she goes away saying “aight but if you do that shit again you’ll have to answer to me” then Harry’s friends are like “damn she’s spunky huh?” and Harry laughs and everyone laughs and this is how the book ends? How would it be funny? How would it be appropriate? How would it feel like “romance”? When Ron returns in The Silver Doe, he’s been psychologically tortured (”tortured” is the actual word JKR uses, please), we don’t need him to be hurting outside as well.

I want more accountability for Hermione. More “uh hey Hermione maybe don’t do that”. More “hey Hermione you know you think of yourself as a good person buuuut yeah actually if all good persons were like you I’d be very afraid”. More “Hermione please for the love of God educate yourself”. More “Hermione sweetie I love you, but you can’t actually learn everything from books”. CHARACTER. DEVELOPMENT. PLEASE. Don’t be afraid to punch Hermione down and tear her apart the way the best Ron fics maim and torture our poor boy. Just because Rowling treated Hermione with kiddy princess gloves doesn’t mean you have to mimic her.

So when Hermione does a genuinely shitty thing let her own up to it. When Ron is a victim let him be upset and angry, even if Hermione is the one treating him badly. Just because he loves her doesn’t mean he’s not allowed to be disappointed in her or that she’s entitled to his immediate forgiveness. Give Ron and Hermione equal consideration. If you’re brushing off Hermione’s actions but condemning Ron for the slightest mistake, I am sure to hate it.

Okay, uh, so, those aren’t really tropes. Those are more just, guidelines I presume.

Oh, yeah, a trope that annoys me! Ron saying “you’re mine”, “my Hermione” and stuff, and Hermione just swoons and says “yours” and shiz. Ok, once in a while, why not. Once in a while. BUTT. I WANT HERMIONE TO SAY IT TOO. “Mine”, “my Ron!” and Ron swoons and says “yours, absolutely yours”. DO IT YOU COWARDS. FUCKING TAKE THOSE GENDER ROLES AND PUNCH’EM IN THE FACE.

Oh, right, while we’re on the subject of gender roles! Dad!Ron is everything. SingleParent!Ron is mwaaah. Stay-at-home-Dad!Ron is ALKZLDSJDLQSKLFJ <3. AnimalLover!Ron is HHHHNNNGG. Remember, the small gestures, the tiniest, softest acts Ron does (helping Harry get dressed when his arm is deboned, giving Dobby his brand-new sweater, praising Ginny, Luna and Neville when they escaped Umbridge), those are often those unremarkable, unmistakeably kind and sweet actions that tell us who Ron really is at his core: not a guy who’d want power at all costs, not a guy who’d give it all for ambition, not a guy who sees people as possessions, but someone kind who wants to make others happy.

Ok, I was also asked for AUs, so, uh, pretty much every AU is game as long as Ron gets treated with respect? I mean I don’t really care for Mafia!AUs or such but if you can find a way to fit good Romione then go for it I guess. Royalty AU, yeah why not but I often see Ron being made a prince while Hermione is a poor wee servant girl and like. Uuum, we’re talking about the same characters here? Hermione the highly educated girl who keeps on walking over everyone’s toes and loudly talking about how things should be done and is definitely Nouveau Riche, Ron who is a country boy who lives on a farm and is lost in the constant shuffle of his brothers, you think she should be the peasant and he should be the royal? Whaddafack? Oh, and all the “Hermione is a Muggle, Ron is a wizard” AUs that start this way BUTT! Suddenly... Hermione... turns out... to be (wait for it!)... A WITCH! And a super powerful super talented very good one too!!!... yeah ok, yawn. It’s quite scary, actually, how often I’ve seen that plotline, but in the rare cases when it’s Muggle!Ron and Witch!Hermione, Ron never ever EVER (I mean, seriously, NEVER EVER) turns out to have been a wizard, not even a mediocre one, all along. No, when Ron is made a Muggle for the sake of AU he stays a Muggle. But when Hermione is made a Muggle she has to turn out TO HAVE BEEN A WITCH ALL ALONG OMYGAH. I can count on one hand the number of Mugglemione/Wizardron fics that actually stick to their Mugglemione premise till the end - and usually they’re one-shots. (Also I don’t mean “Ron mistakes Hermione for a Muggle because he meets her in the Muggle world and assumes he must hide his magic from her, oh wait she was actually a witch!” fics, I mean genuinely “Hermione has been raised a Muggle her whole life, never had weird things happen to her her whole life ever, then Ron comes in and is a wizard and he does magic and Hermione wonders what it’d be like to be a witch and oh surprise! Don’t worry Hermione, you won’t have to feel not-special or mundane for long, here comes the plot contrivance to tell you you really were in fact the specialest of them all!!” fics.) Fairytale!AU is cool. Very good. But honestly I like to see them swapped around. Ron cursed by a nasty fae to be a Beast and Hermione stumbling upon him? Neat, especially if you don’t go the boring route of “oh let’s just rehash the Disney/the original book with different names and call it a day”. But Hermione cursed by an asshole fae for, let’s say, not sharing books, turning into a Beast, and Ron stumbling upon her as she’s trying to survive in the woods (and not doing a very good job of it)? Yes, brava, chief’s kiss. Rapunzel AU where Hermione’s bushy hair turns into the most impractical, most suffocating improvised ladder ever for Ron? Hilarious. Rapunzel AU where Ron has A GIANT EFFING PONYTAIL OF THE GODS and is screaming “ow ow ow” as Hermione makes her way up to his window cringing and saying “sorry! sorry! sorry! (damn his hair smells good)” on every step? Equally hilarious. Go! Be creative! Please I beg of you

Creature!fics! Oh my god there’s not enough of those, at least that aren’t focused on a bullshit pairing! Soulmate AUs! Give me everything! I’ll even take A/B/O if you insist on making it Romione! That’s how far I’ve fallen from human decency I’ll take anything just give me some good Ron content please I beg of you (Ah and to those that are going to say “Alpha Ron Omega Hermione :)))” well yes, but actually no. “Beta Ron Beta Hermione”? “Beta Ron Alpha Hermione”? “Omega Ron Alpha Hermione”??? HELL YEAH NOW WE’RE TALKIN)

Oh dear god I’m still not finished and I haven’t gone through everything someone stop me.

AND NOW BE CAREFUL CHILDREN, BELOW WILL BE SMUT.

Okay I don’t know if it qualifies as a trope, but. But. A more realistic depiction of Ron is usually what I’m after. All those fanfics that have Ron be “the sexy experienced one ;)))” ravishing “naive virginal Hermione ;))” is just UGH. We spent all the 2000-2010 period having fics like this, mind adding a bit of EQUALITY to the mix???

It’s just... I hate it okay? So many fics read like they’re just projection, writers who are essentially making Ron their big strong sex toy stud who's so attentive and sweet and cherishing, and so it does indirectly ends up as "servant Ron is so devoted to his goddess Hermione, providing pleasure to her while she doesn’t have to lift a finger”. The Dom!SexGod!Ron thing honestly depresses me... Since it's Ron taking care of Hermione, AGAIN. Like, he spends his WHOLE LIFE doing that already. Can we give him a break for once?

In the endI feel that it's less "Romione smut" and more "self-inserting into Hermione smut". In "real" Romione smut I think Ron and Hermione would switch roles according to what they feel like. And honestly I ALWAYS picture Ron being super nervous during Dom stuff, like he spanks her once then immediately he goes "oh my god are you okay?? did that hurt, do you want to stop?", things like that. I cannot imagine it happening any other way. XD Ron is just... too caring, too sensitive to do stuff like hard BDSM and that kind of thing in my opinion. He’s too much of a caretaker. I understand if it’s your kink and you’re perfectly free to project and write the fic you want, I’m not the fun police, but it’s just... I don’t think that’s really what Ron would be like. I just want MORE realistic Ron.

Also I’m trying really really hard to not point fingers here but WHY is it that it’s always “Ron growled” while it’s always “Hermione whimpered” or “Hermione moaned”? Like... you know it’s okay for a man to moan or whimper in pleasure too, right?  You know Ron isn’t 110% muscles and testosterone? You know Hermione is allowed to be fierce too? Hermione can 100% “growl” and be dominant and pin Ron to the wall and reduce him to a puddle of goo if you’re brave enough?

(Honestly how sexy would Ron think that is? The woman he loves is half his size yet can pin him down and ravish him. DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG RON HAS WANTED TO BE RAVISHED AND CHERISHED DO YOU KNOW HE’S BEEN WANTING THIS ALL HIS LIFE)

Oooo-kay, so that’s... mostly it, I reckon. Oh also Ron has a gigantic penisraise kink (and a great penis too, but mostly a praise kink). That’s canon and that’s all.

[writingwhimsey]

The Tiger and the Oda Princess Ch. 1

This is just a fanfic of how I imagine things might go following Shingen's dramatic route ending. Hope you enjoy! Mature content!

Chapter 1

I woke to the morning sun streaming in through the open window. The fall crisp fall air, filling the room. I rolled over and found that I was alone in the futon, however there was a letter beside me. I opened it up and found Shingen's handwriting.

Good morning, my love. I am saddened by the face that I was unable to be there when you awoke this morning...I miss my good morning kisses and the way you look in the morning light. However Sasuke and Yuki were quite adamant that I could not see you this morning. I am counting the hours until I see you later this afternoon. I would count the seconds, but there are far too many of those. I do hope you got plenty of rest last night because once we are alone, we will have much to celebrate tonight and sleep is not something I plan on either of us having much of. Until our wedding, I will be missing you.

Love,

Shingen

I couldn't help the smile that came to my face. Today was the day we had been planning for the last few weeks. I sat up in bed, the excitement and my happiness overflowing. Just then the door opened and a group of maids were coming in.

"Good morning Lady Ava." Otsuna, an older maid, who I learned had played a large part in helping raise Shingen.

"Good morning, Otsuna." I greeted, smiling brightly.

She returned my smile with a warm one of her own. "We have your breakfast and as soon as you are finished, we will be getting you bathed and ready for the big day."

"Thank you, I really appreciate it." I said, bowing.

Otsuna smiled. "How many times must I tell you, you don't have to bow to me? You are about to marry my lord after all, making you the lady of this castle."

"Probably every day for the rest of time." I answered. "I was raised to show respect to everyone. In my home town station doesn't really matter."

"One of the many reasons we all love you." She replied. "Now hurry up and eat my lady."

I was getting up and eating and soon I was being led out of the room and to the bath. While I normally bathed myself or occasionally was bathed by Shingen when we bathed together...okay that actually happened quite often, but you know sexy times and all...Otsuna and the other maids insisted on bathing me.

"I can't wait to see how this wedding is going to be." Otsuna told me as she washed my hair. "I hear you are blending in some traditions from your hometown?"

"Yes, we are." I answered. "Starting with the one where it is considered bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding."

"You sound quite disappointed with that one." She teased.

"It's silly superstition." I replied. "But then again it is nice to participate in some of the traditions."

"And Master Sasuke will be helping with performing the ceremony how they do in your hometown?" Otsuna asked.

"Yes."

"It's still so strange how you two are from the same place. I mean since it is such a far away place and yet you both ended up here."

Same time. I thought, however only Shingen, Yukimura, and Kenshin knew that. "Yes, life can be funny sometimes."

Once my bath was over, I was getting out and drying off. I was wrapped in a comfy robe and then taken to have my hair and makeup fixed. I insisted on nothing too fancy though. It just didn't feel like me or like Shingen, like us.

My hair was put in a simple yet stylish bun with a golden hair pin that had some small red jewels on it. My makeup was very simple, just a bit of color on my lips and cheeks. Now it was time to get dressed. I couldn't help but to smile as I slipped into the kimono I had made for the wedding.

It was made of the same scarlet color as were pictured in the Takeda banners. I had done some floral embroidery, small and delicate in black and gold thread, just along the hem at the bottom. I wore a black and gold obi sash that was tied by a scarlet cord, matching the scarlet of the kimono.

"You look absolutely beautiful." Otsuna told me, smiling.

"Thank you." I said, seeing the warm affection in her eyes.

Just a few more minutes went by and then I was being led out of the room and to a small garden area, where we had decided to have the wedding. We were blending Sengoku traditions and modern traditions to create our very own unique wedding.

When I walked out to the garden, our closest friends were there waiting for us. Shingen stood, waiting for me. He looked so handsome in the kimono I had made for him. I made it in the same colors as mine, though minus the floral embroidery. He smiled as soon as he saw me and reached out his hand.

I placed my hand in his, returning the happy smile. His large hand enveloped my own and he was leading me to a small table where we knelt down. The table was set up between two trees that formed a natural canopy and with the changing of the leaves, looked breathtaking. Kenshin had surprised me by being there at the table performing a tea ceremony.

We had practiced the steps over and over in the past few weeks. Shingen and I exchanged tea cups as part of the tradition. We finished the tea ceremony and then turned to face each other, knee to knee. Shingen took my hands in his, his eyes locked with mine. Sasuke came up and knelt beside us holding a pillow with two weddings wooden bands Shingen had made for us. The rings were simple and yet absolutely stunning, made from a Japanese Maple and polished up. He had also carved the characters for True Love on the bands.

We had written our own vows for the occasion. "Ava, you came into my life, carrying with you the spark of life. I had long ago resigned myself to fate and yet you changed my fate. You have brought me so much love and joy that I had thought I would never see. You are my goddess, my angel, who has made all of my dreams come true. I swear to you that I will spend the rest of my life giving you the same joy and happiness and loving you every second as you deserve." After pledging his vows to me, Shingen took one of the rings and slid it onto my left ring finger.

I could feel the tears of joy welling up in my eyes. His words had been absolutely beautiful and I knew he truly meant them from his heart. "Well, I don't know how I'm going to follow that up." I found myself saying, making Shingen chuckle and earning a laugh from our gathered loved ones.

Shingen reached up a hand to wipe away my tears and give me an encouraging look.

I smiled at him. "Shingen, I never expected when we met for you to be serious. I took you for a flirt...a handsome flirt, but still a flirt. But then as I got to know you, I couldn't think of anything else but you and wanting to know more. Before I knew it I had fallen completely in love with you. You have made me the happiest I have ever been and I can't imagine being with anyone else. I promise you, I will spend the rest of my life with you, sharing all of the love in my heart and making you as happy as you have made me." I was then taking the other ring from the pillow and placing it on Shingen's left ring finger.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." Sasuke said. "You may kiss the bride."

Shingen smiled at me as he wrapped his arms around me. "The part I've been waiting for." He said before pressing his lips to mine. The kiss was warm and tender and full of love and joy.

We broke the kiss after a few moments, but Shingen still held me in his arms, looking at me as if no one else were there with us. "My wife." He said, smiling at me.

I couldn't help but to smile back. "My husband."

"You guys do know the rest of us are still here, right?" Yukimura spoke up.

"Cut them a break." Sasuke said. "They did just get married."

"Yeah, but you don't live with them." Yukimura said. "They're always like this."

"I think you forget I spent time with them after Shingen had been healed." Sasuke countered.

"Can we get to the banquet already?" Kenshin asked. "I need some sake...and entertainment before I get bored."

While I could feel my cheeks heating up from bashfulness, I also couldn't help but to laugh at our friends. Shingen joined me in my laughter. "Some things never change." He said. "Alright, let us celebrate!"

We were all heading inside then to the dining hall. Shingen kept his arm wrapped around me as we walked. We all took our seats to enjoy the food and sake. When I went to sit beside Shingen, he surprised me by pulling me into his lap.

"Beside you isn't close enough?" I asked, my tone teasing as I looked up at him.

"Never." He answered, kissing my brow.

"You know, I didn't think they could get any worse and yet here they are." Yukimura complained. Though I could see a smile on his face. He was very happy for us.

"Yuki, you might learn something about women and how to treat them by watching us." Shingen replied, teasing. "If you don't learn, how are you ever going to start a family?"

"I will never understand your obsession with wanting your best vassal to have a family. Having attachments dulls your blade. Look at Sasuke, he's the perfect ninja." Kenshin said. "No attachments and his loyalty is to me."

"I think people fight better when they have someone they love to fight for." Shingen countered. "Besides, love is the best thing life has to offer."

When he said that last part, Shingen hugged me tighter to him. "I can agree with that." I said.

"It appears my goddess is on my side once again." Shingen spoke, smiling.

"Were we in a battle?" Kenshin asked. "If so, we should really put our strengths to the test. You and Yukimura versus me and Sasuke. Then we'll see which one of us is right."

"Sorry, but I have better things to be spending my energy on tonight." Shingen replied and then gave me a wink.

I giggled and my cheeks reddened. Then I looked over at Kenshin. "How about no fighting on my wedding day, okay?"

"Here, have more sake and pickled plums, Lord Kenshin." Sasuke said, pouring Kenshin another cup and handing him another plate full of pickled plums.

The party continued and soon musicians were brought in, which I had not been expecting. It was then that Sasuke was announcing that we would be doing some more traditions from our "hometown."

"What traditions are you talking about now?" I asked, eyeing Sasuke suspiciously. The only ones that really were left that involved the music would be first dance and a father-daughter dance, which we clearly couldn't do as my father was somewhere five hundred years in the future.

"This is usually the point in our hometown where the bride would dance with her father. Since that is not possible in this case, we are changing it up a little." Sasuke declared. He was then walking over to me and offering his hand.

I took his offered hand and allowed him to pull me up. "What are we doing?" I asked.

"You'll be dancing with me, as a big brother of sorts." He answered, leading me out to the middle of the room.

"Awe, Sasuke." I said. feeling myself getting emotional.

"I am quite happy for you, Ava." He told me as we danced. "You and Shingen seem to be perfect for each other."

"Thank you." I said.

We danced for a few more moments before Yukimura was cutting in. "Alright, my turn." He said. "Your next brother."

I smiled at him. "You guys are too sweet."

"Oh for me this is more about torturing Lord Shingen." Yukimura said with a teasing grin.

"What, are you playing keep away with me now, is that it?" I asked.

"Something like that." He answered. He was then looking down at the floor. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For saving Lord Shingen and for making him so happy." He answered. "I know I give you guys a hard time, but I am really happy for you two."

"I knew you were secretly sweet." I teased.

Yukimura rolled his eyes. "I swear you two were made for each other."

After a moment more with Yukimura, Kenshin was coming up to us. "Okay, my turn."

"You, too?" I asked, very surprised.

"Only because Sasuke and Yukimura promised to train with me later." Kenshin replied, taking my hand in his and pulling me into a dance with him.

I smiled and hid my laughter. Though he said it was for a bribe I knew it was because he actually did care about Shingen and me. "Well, I am happy that you agreed to it."

"Don't be so happy." Kenshin replied. "It will also annoy Shingen and after all that I put up with while he lived in my castle, he deserves a little payback."

"I also wanted to thank you for presiding over the tea ceremony at the wedding. You did a wonderful job and it really means a lot to us." I told him.

Kenshin just sighed. "It wasn't as boring as I expected it to be." Despite his words, he had a tender look on his face.

We danced a few more moments before Shingen was coming up to us. "Alright, I think you have all had your fun in playing keep away with my bride long enough." He said, his tone playful as always.

That was when I saw the look in Kenshin's eyes change. He was then wrapping one arm around my waist and pulling me against him, while drawing his sword with the other. "If you want her back that badly, you'll have to fight me for her. She is my hostage now."

Shingen arched a perfect brow. "I thought we just went over the fact that I will not be spending all of my energy on a fight with you when I have my wedding night with my bride tonight."

"You're cured, aren't you? You should have plenty of energy to spare now that your health has returned." Kenshin countered.

"Come on, that's enough Kenshin. Put the sword away and let me go." I said, biting back laughter. It was strange how this had all become normal to me.

"This bastard owes me a fight." Kenshin said, looking at Shingen.

"Lord Kenshin, I already promised to train with you if you behaved." Sasuke said.

"But we train all the time. I haven't had a good fight with my greatest rival in ages." Kenshin countered.

"Just let Ava go already." Yukimura said. "Besides you won't just be fighting Sasuke, you'll be fighting me too. I can probably convince a few others to join in. Make it a real challenge for you."

"Just come and drink your sake for now. We'll train tomorrow." Sasuke said, acting as the amazing handler he was. "With Shingen's permission maybe we can even explore the ceilings here. I can even set some traps for you."

Kenshin sighed and released me, putting his sword away. "Alright." He was then walking away to take his seat once more.

Shingen then pulled me into his arms smiling. "And here I thought we could get through one evening without Kenshin pulling out his sword."

"It wouldn't be a party if he didn't." I replied, as we began to sway to the music. "It makes sense now why he agreed to the dance, though."

Shingen laughed. "You don't realize how much everyone else cares for you, too." He replied. "If I'm not careful there's a line of men who would gladly steal you from me."

"I doubt that." I replied. "But in any case, you're the only one for me. There's no one else I'd rather spend my life with."

Shingen lifted a hand to cup my cheek. "You keep speaking like that and I'll have to take you from this party early." He said, his voice low and seductive.

"And that would be a bad thing?" I asked playfully, desire already sparking in me with the promise of his words.

"Well, there are a couple of more surprises that I don't think you'll want to miss." Shingen replied.

"Like what?" I asked.

"We had some gifts sent over...from Azuchi." He answered.

My eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I know in my last letter to them I told them we were getting married...but we hadn't figured out when yet."

"I wrote them." Shingen answered. "For obvious reasons, I couldn't invite any of them, but I did want to have something for you. I know you care about them."

I felt myself tearing up. At Shingen's thoughtfulness of writing to Nobunaga and the others even though they were still enemies. And at my friends' thoughtfulness to send a gift even though I was marrying their enemy. I had no words. I just stretched up and gave Shingen a kiss. "Thank you." I said to him.

"Anything for you my princess." He told me, kissing my brow.

It was then that the gifts were being brought in. One of the gifts was a delicious dessert prepared by Masamune. The other was several bolts of fabric that they had sent for me in my work. There was also a letter, which I read.

Ava,

Though your choice in a husband is one we can't agree with, we all wish you well and only want you to be happy. We hope to have another visit from you to Azuchi soon. Lord Nobunaga has kept your room at the castle as you left it and it will always remain here for you. Should you ever come to your senses to leave Shingen, we will welcome you back here with open arms.

Your friends and family always,

Nobunaga

Hideyoshi

Mitsunari

Mitsuhide

Masamune

Ieyasu

"I can't say that was the most flattering letter." Shingen said. "But as I told you earlier, there is a line of men ready to take you away from me should I give them the chance."

"No one can take me from you." I told him, folding the letter up and putting it away. "My heart is yours, along with the rest of me."

Shingen smiled at me, pulling me close. He gently kissed me on the lips. "As I am yours." He said, but there was a fire in his eyes.

I could see the emotions there, all mixing. Love, passion, desire, and a hint of jealousy. I found my own desire sparking, a roaring flame deep within me at that look. I felt heat through my kimono wherever he touched me.

"I think it is time we call it a night and go to our room." He said in that seductive purr.

I nodded. "Yes."

Shingen turned to everyone. "Thank you all for coming to help us celebrate. Stay and enjoy the food and sake for as long as you like. Good night." He was then sweeping me up into his arms and carrying me out of the room.

As soon as the doors were closed behind us and we were in the main hall, Shingen's lips were on mine in a passionate kiss. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling myself as close as possible to him. We broke the kiss, but he kept me in his arms and carried me all the way to our room. He didn't set me down until we were to the futon. Then he was over me.

We were a tangle of limbs as we kissed once again. Shingen's hands expertly untied my obi as his lips traveled down my neck and then back up it to my ear. "I almost forgot to tell you how beautiful you look tonight." He whispered to me. "It's almost a shame to undress you after you worked so hard on our wedding clothes...almost."

I shivered as his words washed over me. I was sliding my hands to untie his kimono as well. Soon we had each other bared and we were skin to skin. Shingen raked his teeth over my ear, where he knew I was so sensitive. His hands enveloped my bared breasts, all eliciting moans from me.

"I have so much to make up for from not getting to love you last night." He murmured, his warm breath washing over my flesh. He pulled back to look at me, his gaze all fire and love. He took a teasing finger and ran it from the base of my throat, between my breasts, and over my stomach.

I shivered in response to his touch. My eyes were already half-lidded with the pleasure that coursed through my body. Oh the things his touch does! I thrilled internally. "Sometimes the anticipation helps to build the pleasure." I replied, coyly.

Shingen gave me a wicked smile. "Is that so?" He was then leaning over me, kissing my neck. He rested a hand on my thigh, his thumb rubbing in circles teasingly close to my inner most heat and yet just staying out of reach.

I gasped. "What are you doing?" I asked, though I already knew.

Shingen smiled at me. "Using anticipation to build your pleasure." He answered.

"More like teasing me to frustrate me." I said.

Shingen chuckled and leaned in once again, kissing my neck. He then brought his thumb to that sensitive cluster of nerves and continued that circular motion he had been doing on my thigh. He then thrust a finger inside, working up a rhythm.

"Ah...Sh...Shin...gen!" I cried out as he finally gave me what I most craved.

I felt his lips curve into a smile on my neck. "I can deny my princess nothing." He whispered to me as he continued to work me.

All too soon he withdrew his fingers from me. I was about to pout when I felt him position himself between my parted legs, wrapping them around his hips. He was then filling me in a more complete way.

My bucking hips met each of his powerful thrusts. We were lost to pleasure, neither of us able to speak only gasps and moans escaped our lips as we crested that wave of ecstasy together.

We spent the rest of the evening making love like this before finally collapsing and falling asleep in each others embrace. I had never felt more happy or more loved.

Follow the link below for chapter 2!

https://writingwhimsey.tumblr.com/post/656167738314735616/the-tiger-and-the-oda-princess-ch-2

[zaddyzemo]

helmut zemo x reader x heinrich zemo

⚔

cw: power imbalance, sexist language, abusive behavior, emotional manipulation, dub-con, attempted impreg

summary: your loyalty to the House of Zemo is tested when the 12th baron travels through decades to aid his son in restoring their legacy and carrying on the bloodline

author's note: for more context, check out this Avengers: Ultron Revolution clip and the two pre-serum Helmut Zemo x Reader drabbles written in that universe

as an octogenarian, Helmut Zemo is now older than his father ever was. however, watching Heinrich remove his purple cowl for you to assess the damage done by Captain Roger's fist to his face, he saw that thanks to the Super Soldier serum and time displacement, the two of them were physically the same age. "the swelling should go away by morning, sir," you smile at the face you've become familiar with through faded photos and the genes his son inherited from his side. "there is no damage to your cranium." Heinrich hissed when you touched up his stitches. "if it weren't for Zemo 2099, a little bruise would've been the least of my worries."

he wasn't talking to you, however, and he hadn't been since Helmut had brought him back to his now old castle along with the cyborg Zemo 2099. he ignored you in favor of berating his son, and you hadn't seen the baron look this humbled before. his mask was still on his hanging head and you suspected he kept it on to hide his pained expression. "I am grateful for his assistance in our battle against the Avengers. and for keeping you safe, Vater."

"his assistance? he practically fought every single one of them off on his own while you stood there like the weak link you are." Heinrich pushed you aside so that he can properly yell in Helmut's face all the insults your master would've plunged his sword through the one speaking them, but he didn't dare move a hand against his father. standing perfectly still and silent, he was falling back into the role of the perfect soldier since he failed at being a good son. he only shifted when the man screamed "the only reason you're still standing here is that you're my true heir's great grandfather."

the thirteenth baron was nobody's great grandfather. truth be told, he was nobody's father. in eighty years, there's been no shortage of women between his satin sheets and there's been more than a few men. however, there's never been a baroness. so preoccupied recreating his father, Heinrich Zemo's work and restoring their legacy he was that he ironically didn't spend a single second on producing an heir. you suspected that he didn't wish to subject his supposed brood with the same trauma he went through. he's always had a soft spot for children and you only found out once he took you in that the orphanage you grew up in was one of his many estates. he grew up an orphan himself, but he's always had his blue blood to help him gain access to all the resources he needed. as far as he was concerned, every child in every orphanage he ever built was his heir.

however, Henrich Zemo didn't see it that way. he saw his son flinch at the mention of offsprings and figured out that he doesn't have a grandchild in this timeline. "you've not produced an heir?" when Helmut couldn't meet his eyes and the shame in them was visible through the mask, Heinrich raised his voice again. "YOU HAVEN'T EVEN GIVEN ME AN HEIR? HOW IS THE HOUSE OF ZEMO SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE WITHOUT AN HEIR?"

"Vater-"

"did you try and fail as you do in everything? did you not even try?"

"Please, Vater-"

"what about das mädchen?" he pointed you out as you were packing the medical supplies. "did you not sire a child by her? i'd even name a bastard born from a bed wench my heir if it meant the Zemo name will survive until 2099."

"she is not a bed wench, she is my apprentice-"

his attempts at protecting your honor were weak and so was his voice. as powerful and proud of a man he was around his allies and even enemies, he was pathetic in front of his parent. he was silenced with nothing but a slap.

"how you survived all these decades without me I do not know and, truth be told, I do not care to know." Heinrich Zemo watched his son straighten his crown on his head and his mask on his face. he was not just disappointed, he was downright disgusted. "if it weren't for my title, my fortune, and my Super Soldier serum, the house of Zemo would've died with me."

"with all due respect, baron," you snapped, smoothening the bed sheets where he sat earlier. "your son has sacrificed everything for the survival of the Zemo name. if it weren't for him, you wouldn't be here in the first place."

he looked at you as if you were a stain on his boot. "how dare you speak to me that way? Helmut, how dare you let her speak to me that way?"

"you are dismissed, mein fräuline."

"even if she were a lady, she should know not to speak unless spoken to."

that was when Heinrich Zemo acknowledged you. and approached you. his eyes he had passed on to Helmut, but you've never seen them look down on you as if you were the dirt under his sole before.

"I'll see to it that she never speaks to you that way again, Vater," Helmut made one last attempt at deescalating the situation, but he already had you backed against the bed. his old bed. "she will be punished for her insolence."

"yes, she will." Heinrich raised his hand up in the air and struck you across the face with the back of it. "she will learn her place in my palace." the lesson seemed to be going well as you were too shocked to say a word and your master was practically mute where he stood frozen in place. the sting of the slap didn't hurt nearly as much as the shame. "she belongs beneath us." he grabbed you by the jaw and forced you to face him again. "and she will not speak over us. do you hear me, madchen? you are never to speak unless spoken to. is that clear or are your little peasant ears so dirty and clogged that you haven't heard a word I said?"

you tried looking back at your master, the thirteenth baron, but the twelfth wouldn't let you. he squeezed down on your jaw. "yes, sir."

"now was that so hard?" he loosened his grip and stroked the handprint he left on your cheeks and the tears that fell on top. you nodded instead of opening your mouth again. "of course not. you were born to obey, mein kleines lamm. and i was born to lead you lest you wander astray. no harm will ever come to you as long as you do as you are told. you will be safe, as long as you serve the house of Zemo. have I make myself understood or should i speak plainly so that you can follow along?"

"I've read all the books in the castle library, sir, including your journals. I can follow along with your words just fine."

when you saw him smile for the first time, you recognized it as Helmut Zemo's lips stretched across a row of carnivorous teeth. they were lions who've developed an appetite for lowly little lambs like you. "she's a mouthy one, isn't she? clever, too." father then turned to look at his son as he pushed the hair off of your shoulders and exposed your cleavage. "I see why you'd keep her close and even let her wear your own mother's clothes." then, he yanked your hair back and twisted it along with the rest of your body. when your back was against his chest, he came close to your ear and caught it between his canines. "you're lucky us Zemo men have a weakness for reckless women. you're always asking for it and we're always willing to set you straight."

"Vater, what are you-" Helmut found his voice, but he had yet to find the strength to step in between you and Heinrich.

"if you won't make a baroness out of this peasant girl, then I will." he licked the bitemark and buried you face-first into the bed covers. "my lineage will not end with you," he held your head down while lifting your skirts. "if you are too weak to sire an heir, then I'll do it myself."

you struggled, but he was too strong. his hands on you had a powerful grip as they parted your legs and ripped your underwear on the furst try. his hands also awakened the same ardor his son's did whenever he touched you. you were burning with shame and need in equal measure.

"you've kept a young, clean and ripe little cunt in my castle for years and you didn't even once consider it," Heinrich placed his pelvis between your thighs which were trembling in fear and anticipation. one of his fingers, his thumb, traced the lips and the leakage they were covered in. he did this several times, testing you. "look at this, Helmut. she's already wet and ready to receive me. she was made for this," he sinks his finger in and your cunt closes its warm and wet wall around it. "look at how she swallowed me whole. she was made to carry my royal brood," he chuckled, ecstatic to be so enthusiastically enveloped by you. "as lowly as you are, I'll turn you into the lady this fool never could, little lamb," he addressed you, but his words were meant to provoke his supposedly foolish son. still, you moaned into the mattress and even moved against his thumb, your body ready to be bred just like he said.

you almost missed the sound of Helmut hitting his father across his already bruised face, you were that preoccupied with whining pathetically at the loss of the feeling if being penetrated. all of a sudden, you were flipped over, your spime sinking into the mattress as your master - your true master - looked down at you with a bare face and a lustful gaze.

you sucked in air, breathless from Heinrich's ministrations and Helmut's manhandling. you didn't dare fight him ripping open your corset. finally, you could breathe snd he could behold your heaving breast which he marked as his with his teeth every night.

"I never impregnated her because I didn't want to, not because I couldn't," he looked back where his father lay on the floor. "i watched her grow under my own eyes, under a microscope, and I am very much aware of her fertile womb, father. and it is mine to turn into a bed wench, servant, assistant and even the mother of the next generation of Zemos, if I so desire." his large hands grabbed you under your knees and spreading you wide enough for him to slot himself between your legs. "she is mine."

"finally," Heinrich found his voice and his footing again as he stood up. "a show of strength," he watched you surrender to his son fully, arms flailing as you scratched the sheets in search of a grip. Helmut had entered you up to the hilt and split you open in one stroke. seeing his boy bury himself into your belly fully and noticing the bump his cock created in your abdomen, he grabbed him by his wide shoulders from behind. "you sound like the lion cub i never got to raise. you almost make me proud."

Helmut was heaving, his wide chest expanding as he lost himself in the luxury of your luscious cunt. he turned towards his father and his words of praise. "I am not a child anymore, father. I am a man. I take what is mine and tear apart all those who stand between me and what is mine." at this, he pulled out only to plummet back in. in a flash, his pace was fast and you found yourself mewling, a cat in heat or maybe a sacrificial lamb. you were his to devour.

"yes," Heinrich rubbed at Helmut's shoulders as his breathing got heavy. "yes, that's it," his hands moved lower, sliding down his spine and holding onto his lips. when the song stopped to slap the underside of your thigh, the father chuckled. "that's my boy," he squeezed his sides as they snapped against you, the sound of skin slapping against skin bringing the smirk back to his father's face as his son chased his carnal release. "mein guter junge," he nuzzled his ear. "now, come inside. come inside that cunt. that's your cunt, my boy, now claim it."

you tossed your head back as he lifted your hip up in the air and slid his cock so deep in your cunt, you saw stars on the ceiling.

"fräuline," Helmut grunted, burying himself deep inside your guts. "fräuline, you're mine." he tossed his head back against Heinrich's shoulder. "give me a son, mein fräuline."

"yes," your tongue lolled out as your eyes rolled back. your brain was a blur as you agreed to be a broodmare for the house of Zemo. "yesyesyes."

"come inside," his father pressed his lips against his earlobe. "make me proud," he kissed the shell of his ear. "come inside that cunt and give me an heir."

there's nothing he wanted more than to spill his seed inside of you. well, maybe getting more of his father's praise. once he emptied himself inside your womb, he got a pat on his head, sweaty head slicked back as you got a pat on your full tummy. "mein guter junge."

"Vater."

[yodawgiherd]

You Were Never Truly Gone - END

>>>Read on AO3<<< Rating: M

So this is it, the final chapter. It was fun to share this with you all, and I do hope that you enjoyed the ride at least a little bit ;) check end note ( on AO3) for a surprise

The room where the most honored and powerful individuals of the Hizuru nation resided was a spacious one. Intricate paintings decorated the walls, cuts in the wood created beautiful carvings and the pottery alone was worth more than what a decent-sized village would eat through in a month.  Overall, it triumphed everything Mikasa saw in her life, easily topping the castle back on Paradis, and a single thought flashed through her head.

Those guys are lucky that all this pomp wasn’t trampled during the rumbling.

Unlike the room, the council itself was almost exactly what Mikasa expected. Old men and women sitting in expensive chairs and wearing expensive robes – kimono, was it? – studying her with cold and calculating eyes. Unlike Kiyomi, who Mikasa respected despite their recent disagreements, these were the ones who lacked the spine of iron she possessed. They never took an active part in the war, never braved the sea to assist the struggling nation, never stared down a barrel of the gun.

Never kicked Floch’s ass either. Heh.

They inspected her - a curiosity, a trinket shipped from across the sea to be pinned on the Shogun’s chest, a strange yet beautiful ornament. Vultures, carrion eaters, exactly the type that Mikasa despised, as they reminded her of the same individuals who were responsible for the fucked up political situation back home. Then again, Mikasa was not here to change them, she could never do that, she wasn't a politician. She was here to blow their minds.

Summoning her courage and combining it with the steadfast presence of masked Eren at her back, Mikasa took a few steps forward until she was standing in the middle of the room. Easy to be seen, easy to be heard. Kiyomi, who followed close behind, saved her from the awkward need of introducing herself. An unnecessary formality, as they definitely knew who she was.

“Lady Mikasa Ackerman of the Paradis Island.”, Kiyomi said out loud, “The Shogun’s descendant.”

A wave of murmurs ran through the seated council members.

“Lady Mikasa,”, one spoke up, a man whose facial features closely resembled Daigo’s, “It is an honor.”

“The honor is all mine.”, she replied quickly, knowing how important first impressions are.

If this was indeed lord Sawamura, as she suspected, he was the one holding the most power in Hizuru's shattered government. A man who expected his son to be the next Shogun, a plan she was here to disrupt. Thread carefully…

“We hope that your journey was pleasant.”, a woman council member said, a neutral smile on her lips, “The seas can be cruel at this time of the year, but we had more than enough suffering.”

“The journey was fine.”, Kiyomi spoke up, moving past Mikasa and taking her seat on the vacant chair.

It was her right, of course, as she was a full member of this council.

But exchanging formalities would get them nowhere – yet before Mikasa could say anything Sawamura took the word.

“I feel like we all know why we have gathered today.”, his eyes found Mikasa’s, “I know that this is rather sudden, but we would like the wedding to be held in a few weeks at most, the people need something grand to focus on and this event will give them just that.”

"The royal tailor is here,", the woman from before chimed in, "We can have your measurements taken today if you are not too tired lady Mikasa. The sooner he can start working on your dress, the better."

“I-“

“The florist is here too, so we can discuss the choices of…”

“….the carpets…”

“Number of guests?”

It became a blur around her, the council talking together as if Mikasa wasn't even there. It was exactly as she suspected – she was a trophy from the distant lands, a status shipped over because of the blood in her veins. But did anyone care about what she had to say?

Hell no.

Finding Kiyomi Mikasa realized that the old woman was looking straight at her, the message clear. This was her show, and if she wanted to be more than a pretty face she had to speak for herself, Kiyomi wouldn’t bail her out this time around. Closing her eyes and preparing the speech, Mikasa inhaled deeply.

Eren being here was stupid, she knew that, but was glad for it regardless. His presence behind her, however masked, was something she could draw strength from. It was them she was fighting for now, the whatever they had because it filled her with joy like nothing else. She had to defend that, no matter what.

“I’m not marrying.”, she said.

Everybody ignored her and yammered on about the wedding, while Kiyomi’s ironic smile grew.

“I’m not marrying!”, she shouted this time around, finally getting the council’s attention.

“What do you mean?”, someone asked from her right.

“I won’t marry anyone because I will be your Shogun instead.”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The silence was so thick that Mikasa could probably cut it, lasting for three seconds before it imploded into another heated debate. There was a lot of shouting suddenly, disbelieving shaking of heads, and lord Sawamura was among the loudest, immediately getting Mikasa’s attention.

“A woman can never be a Shogun!”

“A woman never was a Shogun,”, she replied, “and I would like to remind you all that these circumstances we find ourselves in are also unprecedented.”

“Why would we ever vote for you? You are an outsider, you know nothing of Hizuru!”

“Fair point,", Mikasa agreed, “Let me explain…”

The commotion died down as they stared at her – the sheer audacity of her words taking the winds from their sails.

“I had no ties to Hizuru, no deep need for a reconnection with my people. My mother died before she could tell me about you all, before the spark in me was ignited. All I was given is this-“, Mikasa raised her hand, letting everyone see the tattoo on her wrist, “This ink, this mark of a clan I didn’t know, that was nothing to me back then. I kept it secret because my mother wished it so, but didn’t pay much attention to it, as you can all agree that I had quite a lot on my mind.”

Eren smiled behind the Faceless mask, very much remembering how privileged he felt when Mikasa peeled those bandages from her wrist and showed him the mark for the first time, years and years ago. In the middle of the room, she continued her speech.

“Then Kiyomi came, telling me all about your nation and my heritage, and I was taken aback. So this was what the mark meant, this was why I should have kept it hidden – suddenly I was royalty.", she chuckled, "You could imagine that I wasn't exactly thrilled by that."

“The war happened, rumbling destroyed the world and I was left to sit in Paradis and watch it become a militaristic stronghold. And that’s when I couldn’t take it anymore.”, for the first time in her speech, Mikasa raised her voice, “I have seen too much death, too much war, too much suffering for it to repeat again and again, for humanity to be stuck in some never-ending loop of violence. I have decided to use this mark, this status of mine for one thing and one thing only.”

She spread her arms.

“Peace. And not only peace of a shocked world that is slowly rebuilding from the ashes, but a peace that will survive not only us in this room but our children too. That’s why I’m asking for your support as the new Shogun. I am not a skilled and experienced politician, I am a soldier who was burned out by the violence I was forced to endure. Yet it gave me something, it gave me the status of a hero and I will use it to help you.”

One by one, her eyes moved to the occupants of the room.

“Hizuru needs a symbol, a figurehead to rally behind and I will be that for you. In return, you of the ruling council will help me in securing the peace I long for, by guiding me in these trying times. I do not care for the power that a status of the Shogun brings, I care for the possibilities it opens.”

“Such as?”, an old man spoke, guarded expression on his face.

“Paradis needs help. It is a powder keg that is bound to explode, if not today then tomorrow, if not now then in dozen years. I want to defuse it, and in return provide Hizuru with a stable and profitable partner.”

“How?”, the same old man questioned her.

"The feelings of supremacy and prejudice towards the outside world can be dispelled with only one thing – information. If we make the trade and people flow between our nations, they are bound to integrate into the society. Those who come here from Paradis will see that we are the same as them, those who move from here to the island will help them overcome their destructive mindset.”

“That is all very nice and all,”, a woman was speaking now, sitting next to Kiyomi, “but what is your guarantee that it will work out?”

"I have none, only the feeling that the world had enough death and destruction for a long, long time. I believe that the Yeagerists are scared, afraid of retaliation from the outside world, and if we don't do anything this fear will in time change into a deep hatred."

Another round of murmurs ran through the council before the old man spoke up again.

“It is nice that you have a plan for Paradis, but what about Hizuru? As a Shogun our nation should be of the uttermost interest to you.”

“I’m still learning about this nation, I am an outsider after all. I think that this opening of borders with Paradis will help us economically, and I can assure you that queen Reiss will be more than open to negotiation. The island is a goldmine, or do I have to remind you about all the iceburst stones?”

Playing on their greed – shifting in her seat Kiyomi couldn’t help but be impressed by how Mikasa was leading the council, and her speech was not done yet.

“Selling those is a very lucrative activity, and I am sure that I would be able to get us an exclusive partnership… With Paradis, I am very experienced, but the subtler points of ruling elude me.”, she bowed slightly towards the man, “That’s why I will leave a large part of power in your hands, esteemed council, because you will help with the best interests of Hizuru at heart.”

Even more murmurs appeared between the seated men and women as they realized what Mikasa was offering them. A leading figure while they would keep most of the power, something to rally behind and guide Hizuru out of this fractured state they found themselves in post rumbling.

“We will need to put this to more discussion and a vote.”, the old man took the word, “We thank you for your time, lady Mikasa, and will let you know of the result.”

With a last bow she left the council room, Eren in his Faceless uniform just a step behind her. Kiyomi watched them leave with a tight expression, very much knowing that once the door closes the eruption of words will be enormous. Taking a breath, she steeled herself, prepared to defend Mikasa’s points.

To a limit, of course.

It wasn’t until they reached the solitude of her chambers that Mikasa collapsed into Eren’s chest, emotionally exhausted.

“Do you think that we have a chance?”, she asked in a small voice.

“You presented yourself very well,”, he soothed her, rubbing small circles on her back, “They would be fools not to take you up on the offer.”

“You think so?”

“With you, the council can keep much more of the leverage than it had, and they are all power-hungry fools – let me remind you that Kiyomi told us these are the ones who tore the country apart.”

“That’s fine, but I have no intention of letting them turn me into a puppet.”

“I know that, Kiyomi knows that, but they don’t. They see an outsider that they can use as a symbol to say – we have this hero of the Rumbling on our side, rally behind her because she is among those who saved the whole world.”

“Officially, Armin is the one who killed you.”

“I know, but you were there with him.”

They stood in silence, hugging each other, until Mikasa spoke up.

“Can you remove your mask for a second?”

“Uhm, sure, but why?”

A snicker.

“I want to kiss you.”

“Just a kiss?”

“Don’t make me tear it off, Yeager.”

“I would not dare, my lady.”

It took several hours, and the day outside slowly progressed into the night. Mikasa was nervous, walking around her room like a caged tiger, replaying the conversation in her head and wondering if she could have said something different, something better. Eren watched her, unsure of how to calm the storm that she was, and in the end decided to just passively stand there and hide behind the Faceless mask. A bit of a cowardly move but he really didn't want to get in a fight with her, especially not now.

The tension was broken when the door slammed open, a red-faced courier appearing. From the way his chest heaved, it was easy to guess that he ran the whole way.

"Lady Ackerman,", he bowed low, "The council has reached a decision, if you would be so kind to accompany me?"

Self-consciously smoothing the wrinkles on her uniform that formed from all the marching, Mikasa nodded at the man.

“Lead the way.”

Every step bopped the heart farther up Mikasa’s throat, and not even Eren’s presence was enough to calm her. This is it – here she would find out what the future held for her.

In no way, shape or form would she ever go along with the marriage – either she gets what she wants or she and Eren are doing a dramatic and most likely bloody escape from the palace. And if they die, they can finally be free and together in the afterlife – Mikasa had no doubts that if there was a place after death, they would find each other again.

The door was familiar, even the guards who opened it for her, and Mikasa stepped into the room with Eren in tow. Eyes of everyone swung to her and the conversation halted – the expressions of the council members remained unreadable, even Kiyomi betrayed nothing.

"We have talked about your proposal extensively, lady Mikasa.", lord Sawamura began, "We weighed the pros and cons, went over everything you said slowly and carefully."

He looked her straight in the eye as he continued.

“You must understand that Hizuru is this council’s primary concern – no individual, no matter how big or small, can take precedence over the nation. In light of that, we have reached an almost unanimous decision.”

Mikasa held her breath, eyes instinctively searching for escape routes from the room. Behind her, a tiny clink could be heard as Eren's fingers curled around the handle of his sword. This did not sound good.

“And so with all that in mind,”, Sawamura went on, “The council has decided to…”

Half a step back, the door was right behind her, she could…

“…accept your offer, lady Mikasa.”

“I… W-What?”

“We will let you take up the mantle of the Shogun.”, Sawamura grimaced, “It wasn’t an easy call to make, but lady Azumabito was very vocal in her support.”

Kiyomi’s face didn’t move, remaining neutral.

"You will, of course, share most of the power with us, and all the decisions must be signed by the council before going public. We have decided to take this opportunity not only as a change of a Shogun but as a shift of our nation towards democracy…"

In other words, they were exactly as power-hungry vampires as Mikasa hoped them to be, but she couldn't care less. She listened as Sawamura went on but his words couldn't truly find purchase in the mush that her brain became. It worked – however bold and stupid her plan was, they went along with it.

It was over, finished, she had won, and everything else was worthless padding.

It wasn’t until about an hour later when she was permitted to leave. The council would continue in their session, most likely tearing up the power into small pieces and stuffing themselves full with it, and they didn’t need her to witness that. Elated to be free, at last, Mikasa took off in the direction of her chambers, feet beating the floor in a steady staccato.

“What’s the rush?”, Eren huffed behind her, burdened by his armor.

Checking left and right that they are alone, she stopped and turned, coming face to…. mask.

“I have been on the edge for several hours,”, Mikasa muttered in a heated whisper, “so we are going back to my room and there you will help me get rid of some of the frustration.”

She slapped his breastplate.

“And that’s an order, soldier.”

Despite the mask, she could hear the grin in Eren’s answer.

“Yes ma’am.”

He didn’t complain after that.

After everything coming together and an evening and a night of great pleasures, Mikasa expected a lot of happy reactions from her body – she didn’t expect to throw up in the morning.

Eren refused to stay away, holding her hair and rubbing her back while she retched into the toilet. One of the disadvantages of having long hair, it gets in the way.

“I’m sorry,”, she murmured once she could speak again, “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You are sorry because you are feeling sick, that’s…”, he chuckled, “that’s so you, Miki.”

Yet while Eren would be fine with just leaving it at that, knowing that Mikasa was exactly as boneheaded as him if she wanted to, their new patron disagreed. Kiyomi wouldn’t hear about just “walking it off”, that was literally the worst thing that she heard in a long time. Was that how they took care of their health on Paradis? Well, ultimately it didn’t matter as Mikasa was the future Shogun, and keeping her healthy was the old woman’s utmost priority. The doctor she summoned was probably the best in all of Hizuru and his prices reflected that, but money was not a concern anymore.

What a strange way to live, Mikasa thought to herself.

He was the perfect professional, examining Mikasa with quick and precise hands, all of it while Eren’s eyes never left him. The Faceless guard was truly expected everywhere, and the doctor didn’t have the slightest problem with him staying.

It didn’t take long, and when all of the symptoms and tests finished, he had exactly one thing to say.

“You are not sick, lady Ackerman.”

“No? Then what is happening to me?”

“I believe that congratulations are in order.”

That did nothing but confuse the poor girl even further.

“What?”

“You are pregnant.”

It took every single fiber in Eren’s body not to explode right there, his knuckles tightening so much that they cracked audibly. Kiyomi on the other hand had a completely different reaction.

“Pregnant? But how?”

The doctor sighed.

“Do I truly have to explain that?”

“What? No, no we… I mean…”

“Good, I’ll be taking my leave then.”

With a bow the man disappeared, leaving the three of them alone and finally giving Eren the chance to do what he wanted. Ripping his mask off and closing the distance to Mikasa in two steps he picked her up, spinning her around while laughing like a maniac. She was still half in disbelief, keeping silent.

Which was okay, because Kiyomi had a lot to say.

“Do you have to destroy everything that I plan?”

Eren was stuck in his happy place, content with laughing, so Mikasa answered for them both.

“It’s not like we planned it…”

“Of course you didn’t…”, Kiyomi rubbed her forehead, “This is so….”

“Great!”, Eren finished for her, “I can’t believe it!”

“Troublesome,” Kiyomi disagreed.

Deep in thought, she tapped her foot once, twice, three times before saying something that drastically changed the atmosphere in the room.

“You should get rid of it.”

“What?”

As gently as he could Eren set her down, getting between Kiyomi and Mikasa as if the old woman would charge her and try to carve the baby from Mikasa’s stomach.

“It’s the most logical way,” Kiyomi argued, “getting pregnant out of nowhere while not being married? It will bring nothing but trouble.”

“We are not getting rid of it.”, Eren cut her off before realizing that there was someone else in the room they should ask.

“Or… Are we?”, he turned to Mikasa, worry creasing his forehead.

She stared at him for a second, wondering if he just did that – if he asked: Do you want to get rid of something she and Eren created from their love, a proof oh much they adored each other, an offspring that would…

“No.”, she said out loud, “I don’t.”

The relief was visible on him, same as the irritation on Kiyomi.

“Oh good…”

“Lady Mikasa…”

“I’m not getting an abortion. Not an option.”

It was one of the fights that Kiyomi knew she could never win, so she did the smart thing and backed down before it even started.

Stupid kids. Dumb stupid kids risking everything just for… well… whatever. They wouldn't take the easy way out, and Kiyomi was stuck with them. Maybe she didn't like the plan at first, the way Mikasa led her in blind, manipulated her, but Kiyomi would be lying if she said that it wasn't impressive. For a former soldier who had no training in such things, guile and outsmarting came naturally to her.

More importantly, Kiyomi did like the girl, despite all her claims that this is all just for the greatness of the Hizuru nation. Mikasa was everything she wanted in a leader, or in the daughter that she never had. Which would, in some strange twisted way, make Kiyomi a grandmother, now that Mikasa was pregnant. Too bad that the child would be cursed with having Eren Yeager for a father, that guy could go burn in hell for all Kiyomi cared.

Anyway, if they didn’t want to get rid of the kid, there were certain changes to be made, to make sure that the plan didn’t go down in flames.

“Then we have to accelerate this whole thing.”, she said out loud.

“How so?”, Eren questioned her, still in that defensive stance between her and Mikasa.

Please, as if that girl ever needed protecting, the memory of her sweeping in and taking out half a room of armed men was still in Kiyomi’s memory. A nice gesture though.

“The preparations would normally take time, and Mikasa can hardly show herself on the day of her coronation day with a belly, can she?”

“Will the council accept this?”

“I don’t know, but I swear that I’ll do my damnedest to make them. Maybe I can twist it, paint the situation more desperate than it is, lie that the people are restless and that they demand the new Shogun to be crowned as soon as possible…”

“I’m going to start showing sooner or later…”, the to-be-Shogun peeped from behind her heroic protector, still in disbelief and staring down at her stomach, “How does this help?”

“Once you are the Shogun I can figure something out, but first we have to stick you up on that chair.”, she nodded at her, “One problem at a time.”

Slow and uncertain, Mikasa nodded back.

“One at a time.”

It would appear that while Kiyomi was anything but elated with her plan, she was going all-in right now. Same as the situation with Paradis – once she committed to a cause she was the best schemer and supporter one could ask for.

Excusing herself, Kiyomi left the two of them alone, already making a list of people she needed to talk to in her head.

The room grew quiet now that she was gone, the facts slowly anchoring themselves in their brains as reality.

“We are going to be parents.”, Eren finally said.

“So it would seem.”, Mikasa agreed in a whisper.

“And you are going to be a Shogun.”

“Yes.”

Turning around he pulled her into a hug that would be bone-crushing if used on anyone that wasn’t Mikasa Ackerman. She didn’t complain in the slightest, clutching to him with strength that squeezed the air out of Eren’s lungs.

“We are going to make it.”, he claimed, only for the statement to waver at the end, “Are we?”

She nodded against his chest, once again taking refuge in the beating of his heart.

“One thing at a time.”

The next ten days were one of the most chaotic that Mikasa ever lived through, and keep in mind that she was a survivor of not only a titan war but also an apocalypse. Kiyomi was a hyperactive bee, buzzing between the other council members and her at such speed that Eren wondered if she ever rested.

She didn’t.

There was hundred and one traditions Mikasa had to learn for the coronation process, a thousand dresses to try out, and million visits where she had to accompany Kiyomi while she convinced yet another noble that the ceremony should take place as soon as possible.

“If planning a wedding is anything like this,”, she hissed to Eren one day during the short break she had, shoveling food into her mouth “Then I’m never marrying you.”

“We are married already, did you forget?”, he grumbled from behind the mask that was his day-to-day accessory now, “Night under a tree, rings of grass, cracked bed frame… all that.”

“I wish this ceremony could also be made by weaving together a few blades. Do you think that I should ask Kiyomi about that?”

He chuckled.

“You can try.”

No, Kiyomi was not amused, and no, grass was out of the question. Very well.

Eren shadowed her almost everywhere, as a Faceless guard he was permitted to even the most private meetings. The other, true members of the order, didn’t give him any problems either, being exactly as obedient as Kiyomi described them. If the future Shogun wanted a fake to protect her, they had no issue with that. The orders were absolute.

Worst case scenario – the girl gets assassinated and then a new Shogun will be chosen, one that will respect the proper Faceless guard and not a wannabee.

And finally, it was here, the day D, the grand happening. Mikasa’s body moved mechanically through the ritual – every motion was explained and trained hundred times over until Kiyomi was satisfied. Still, it was fairly difficult in the ornamental kimono she had to wear, the damn thing was so heavy that she almost tripped several times, despite all the practice. Having a skirt around her legs made Mikasa wish for a good pair of pants too, but gender wouldn’t save her here. The men of the council also wore very similar robes. It was a small price to pay for getting things in motion though, so Mikasa gritted her teeth and carried on.

Eren was there as well, of course, and so was Kiyomi. The old woman stood among the council members, looking exactly as important as her fellow nobles, while Eren was hiding in the shadows, one of a long line of Faceless who guarded this ceremony. It would not be disturbed by anyone or anything, they made sure of that, and the number of guards played right into Mikasa’s hands. She could hide her lover easily now, he was nothing but another mask in the line, here to give his life in defense of the new Shogun.

Instructed by a priest that was so ancient that his skin resembled wrinkled paper, she repeated the words told to her, she bowed where required, and stood tall when it was time to show strength. She prayed to gods she didn’t know and showed respect to ancestors whose names Mikasa couldn’t even pronounce.

Several times the priest stopped and shook the incense he carried left and right, filling the air with its sweet smell. The council members watched every step like hawks, and she could feel their nervousness. It was one thing to talk about a foreign woman being elected as the head of state, it was another one to see it happening in front of their eyes. Luckily, she was prepared and did everything exactly as was expected, following the script to the letter.

Yes, it was one big theatre performance, but that didn’t matter to Mikasa at all.

Because when she finally sat down on the throne and looked over the council members, gathered there in front of her, Mikasa felt a huge weight fall from her chest. Her fights were still far from over, one might say. The position she was put in was anything but secure. Her pregnancy would complicate things, as would the fact that she had no intention of letting the nobles jerk her around. Eren's existence would have to be kept secret, same as the fatherhood of her child, and…

No, there would be time and place to worry about these things, and it was not now. One thing at a time, Kiyomi said, and Mikasa agreed with those words. The old woman was on her side, she had Eren right behind her, and a whole new culture to discover, one that her mother originated from. And as she adjusted her position on the throne, Mikasa Ackerman – the new ruler of Hizuru and the first female Shogun in the history of that nation – did that one thing that happened so rarely in her life.

Mikasa smiled - This was a beginning of a new adventure for them all.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

from an anon, about parents and school

(it's just long, that's why it's under a break XD)

here's my proposition: make parents understand that not every child should conform to whatever traditional career paths that exist. as an asian, i could feel the pressure to take science like a fucking boulder on my body. i have to rant a bit.

i am the younger sibling, my brother is two years elder to me. i was never instilled any curiosity in anything science related, i was kinda left all by myself lol. my brother tho, maybe because he was older or because he was a guy (yeah LMFAO), was encouraged AND involved in a LOT of coding, mechanix (its a construct-ur-own-stuff thing).

i guess i never really noticed until i was leaving middle school, that i was not as smart as him, and would probably never be. but i had other strengths he didnt have. i love writing, im pretty good at it. i am analytical and subejctive, i like thinking and making conclusions about things. i mean i guess i've figured out what i could be better at, right? but the problem?

its that my parents dont see it. its as if they dont know me or they DO know me and are just forcing the things they need onto me. it feels selfish of them to completely forgo my actual strengths. like YES OK i UNDERSTAND i can never be as smart as my brother, but u dont have to pretend like i can. because pretending that i can achieve whatever he has, is just going to affect YOU. because i have accepted long ago that some things arent for me.

they think i dont want to put effort into anything i do. that im lazy and want the easy way out. god, every time they say this i want to honestly show them that its the things IM interested in, where i put in the work. its so belittling.

ive written articles abt bts, their music, about how carl jungs theory of archetypes and i occasionally ask a lot of questions about the world to you (hi lol). i just dont get why they want me to waste energy on something im clearly uninterested in.

short answer, point to BTS and say, "They're Asian, they make tons of money. Leave me alone."

just kidding XD

If I'm being serious, I don't think they will change their mind. They will continue to force their ideals onto you, because they believe in certain career paths had assured success and that is what they are after. They either want you to make a certain amount of money, have a certain status in life, or simply know that you can obtain a stable job. To be honest, these are not really traditional career paths at all if you think about it. Becoming a doctor takes many, many years and it is hard ass work. Parents just make it seem as if these are the only jobs available to you, even if you know it's not true.

Men vs women in Asian countries, well, I feel everyone knows this, but many Asian parents born in their respective countries put more effort into their sons than daughters. Firstborn son? He probably walks on water to them XD

I understand what you mean when you say your parents do not understand. This might sound egotistical (it does now that I'm writing it, I am very sorry) but I was the one in my family who got the best grades. None of my siblings got better grades than me (basically I had a 4.0 from middle school to university), and do you think with all that I would be immune?

Nope.

I am good at the sciences and I am good at the humanities as well. I had an interest in reading, writing, and drawing. Reading fiction, I could pass it off to educate myself. Writing? I could pass it off as something for school. But drawing?

Woo, boy.

This was a constant fight. I do not back down (a rebel, wcyd) and I drew and it would get ripped apart. I drew and it would get torn up and thrown away. I drew and and would be beaten, yelled at, constantly belittled for my interest in it even though I was good at the sciences and math. To my mom (my dad doesn't count, he had zero interest in parenting) - if she did not think it was going to make money in the future, it was useless. If I could not spin it into profit, I should not be doing it (very fun childhood I had, yes). The most ironic thing is, after I became an adult, she suggested I start drawing again and sell it to make money.

Hello?

You literally forced me to stop drawing because you constantly connected it with negativity???

(not now, I have since stopped talking to her and started drawing again and it is purely for myself, not to show anyone else, I do not even post it on social media or show anyone irl)

Not saying your parents will act like mine, btw, only sharing my experience.

The idea that you'll never be as smart as your brother? That's bullshit lol. That's like saying intelligence is only valuable if it's science or math, which, as you know, is not true. You are you. He is himself. It is not you cannot do those things. It is that those things are not what you want to focus on. You have a limited amount of time in this life and you have chosen the things you want to delve into and explore.

You don't have to be good at everything. Everything is just not good enough for you.

I am of the mindset that you should try and learn everything you can about this world. I love learning, personally. I think knowing everything I know, from the humanities to the sciences, enriches my life and gives me a broader perspective.

But I totally understand how you feel, because being pushed into something makes you end up hating it. Parents push their kids to learn this or that and kids end up resenting schoolwork because it doesn't feel like something they wanna do anymore. It's just adults yapping in their ears and it feels pointless. Grades aren't everything. You think anyone cares that I aced Physics with Calculus I and II as an adult? LMAO, no one gives a shit. You passed, good enough XD

Here's how I think you should treat school. It's not the content that matters. It's you understanding how you learn each subject. Every subject is different and how you learn them is different. It is not because you are bad at the subject, it is because you haven't figured out the best learning style for you. Teachers have to teach a mass of students and, yes, I understand this seems very tedious to have to "teach yourself".

The skill in learning to learn becomes so, so valuable as an adult. It is how you maintain interest in things, how you develop new interests, and how will come to find meaning (in whatever you want to focus on finding meaning for). I'm not saying that you will be able to find your perfect learning style in every subject, but I am encouraging you to simply see it in that light.

And, you might find certain things to be not that important to you, in which case, just pass the class, it's totally fine if it's not going to help you for the career path you're going for XD Nobody asks me about the themes of William Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet" (tbh, a pair of overdramatic loons) or how I feel about Sigmund Freud (actually a twat, but that's neither here nor there).

Let them talk. That one that walks your path is you. Focus on what you want to focus on. They are set in their ways and they way to show them there are different paths is to walk them.