#he was shown once at The Summit

[swan-orpheus]

Where in the world galaxy is Carmen Sandiego Barton Coburn?

[bfpnola]

ID 1: Screenshot of a post by @/key48return on Instagram. Background is of a globe with pinpoints of the israeli flag all over North and South America. Title reads in all caps, “israel is involved in oppression all over the world not just in Palestine…” A yellow arrow points right underneath the title. End ID

ID 2: In all caps, “ISRAEL'S INVOLVED IN:

THE RWANDAN GENOCIDE - 1994

ISRAEL EXPORTED SUBSTANTIAL WEAPONS AND ARMS TO THE HUTU MILITIAS WHO MASSACRED OVER 1 MILLION TUTSI CIVILIANS IN RWANDA ACROSS THE DURATION OF 100 DAYS.

WEAPONS USED IN THE GENOCIDE INCLUDED ISRAELI-MADE 5.56MM BULLETS, RIFLES AND GRENADES. THE RWANDAN GENOCIDE IS RECOGNISED AS THE WORST GENOCIDE IN MODERN HISTORY. ISRAEL HAS REPEATEDLY ATTEMPTED TO CONCEAL THEIR ARMS EXPORTS TO RWANDA BEFORE AND DURING THE GENOCIDE, FEARING PROSECUTION.”

Black and white photos below are shown of various Rwandan children in graveyards or in makeshift tents just trying to get by. End ID.

ID 3: In all caps, “ISRAEL'S INVOLVED IN:

APARTHEID SOUTH AFRICA 1948 - 1994

ISRAEL WAS A STAUNCH ALLY TO THE SOUTH AFRICAN APARTHEID REGIME, PROVIDING ANTI-RIOT VEHICLES AND ARMS TO USE AGAINST THE NATIVE BLACK POPULATION, ASSISTING THE REGIME IN CREATING NUCLEAR BOMBS AND ISRAEL ALSO OPPOSED THE GLOBAL EMBARGO AND BOYCOTT OF APARTHEID SOUTH AFRICA.

FOR DECADES, THE ZIONIST FEDERATION IN SOUTH AFRICA HONOURED MEN SUCH AS PERCY YUTAR, WHO PROSECUTED NELSON MANDELA FOR SABOTAGE AND CONSPIRACY AGAINST THE STATE IN 1963 AND SENT HIM TO JAIL FOR LIFE. (FOR WHICH HE SERVED 27 YEARS)”

Black and white photos below showcase a Black man being held in a chokehold by a white man, two Black people on their knees and hands up trying not to get shot, and a sign that reads in english and afrikaans “white area.” End ID.

ID 4: In all caps, “ISRAEL'S INVOLVED IN:

MAYAN GENOCIDE 1960 - 1996

THROUGHOUT THE GUATEMALAN CIVIL WAR FROM 1960-1996, OVER 200,000+ INDIGENOUS MAYANS WERE MURDERED BY STATE FORCES, AND OVER ONE MILLION MORE DISPLACED, IN WHAT IS REFERRED TO TODAY AS THE MAYAN GENOCIDE.

THE GUATEMALAN STATE FORCES RESPONSIBLE WERE ARMED AND TRAINED BY ISRAEL. WHEN THE U.S. GOVERNMENT SUSPENDED MILITARY FUNDING TO THE GUATEMALAN STATE FORCES IN 1977 IN THE MIDST OF THE MAYAN GENOCIDE, ISRAEL GAVE THEM OVER $38 BILLION WORTH OF ARMS TO FILL THE GAP. THE 'GALIL' ASAULT RIFLE, AN ISRAELI-MADE WEAPON, WAS STANDARD ISSUE FOR THE GUATEMALAN ARMY BY 1980, WITH THE STATE OWNED SMALL-ARMS PRODUCTION FACILITY IN ALTA VERAPAZ PRODUCING ITS AMMUNITION UNDER ISRAELI ARMS LICENCES.”

Below are multiple in-color photos of Mayan families mourning, one photo in particular which shows indigenous Mayans carrying a seemingly endless line of coffins off into the distance. End ID.

ID 5: In all caps, “ISRAEL'S INVOLVED IN:

SREBRENICA - 1995

ALSO KNOWN AS THE SREBRENICA GENOCIDE. IN 1995 OVER 8,000+ BOSNIAN MUSLIMS WERE MASSACRED BY SERBIAN ARMY FORCES ARMED AND TRAINED BY ISRAEL. SERBIAN FORCES ETHNICALLY CLEANSED OVER 250,000+ MUSLIMS IN TOTAL ACROSS CROATIA AND BOSNIA.

TENS OF THOUSANDS OF OTHERS WERE WOUNDED, STARVED, WOMEN WERE MASS RAPED AND MANY WERE INCARCERATED IN CONCENTRATION CAMPS. MANY OF THOSE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE GENOCIDE FLED TO ISRAEL, WHERE THEY WERE GRANTED ISRAELI CITIZENSHIP IN ORDER TO AVOID ARREST AND PROSECUTION FOR CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY.”

Once again, the in-color photos below show various peoples mourning. Two of the photos specifically show people reaching their hands out over extremely long lists of just names of people who have died. End ID.

ID 6: In all caps, “ISRAEL'S INVOLVED IN:

TRAINING U.S. POLICE

SINCE 1990, HUNDREDS OF AMERICAN POLICE OFFICERS, INCLUDING AGENTS FROM THE FBI, CIA AND IMMIGRATION AND CUSTOMS ENFORCEMENT (ICE), HAVE EITHER BEEN SENT TO ISRAEL THROUGH POLICE TRAINING EXCHANGES, OR ATTENDED SUMMITS WITHIN THE U.S. THAT WERE SPONSORED BY ISRAELI LOBBY ORGANISATIONS.

THE KNEE-TO-NECK 'RESTRAINT' THAT DEREK CHAUVIN MURDERED GEORGE FLOYD WITH, IS OFTEN USED BY ISRAELI POLICE AND SOLIDERS AGAINST PALESTINIANS.

BLACK LIVES MATTER.”

Photos below are in-color and show various B.L.M. protests. End ID.

ID 7: In all caps, “ISRAEL'S INVOLVED IN:

ARMING INDIA'S VIOLENCE IN KASHMIR

INDIA IS ISRAEL'S LARGEST ARMS CLIENT, MAKING UP OVER 45% OF ISRAEL'S ARMS SALES. BUYING ISRAELI AMMUNITION AND AIR-TO-GROUND MISSILES, ON THE PREMISE THEY HAVE BEEN 'BATTLE-TESTED' ON PALESTINIANS IN GAZA. ISRAEL PROVIDES INDIA WITH THE ARMS INDIA USES TO MILITARILY OCCUPY KASHMIR AND BRUTALISE KASHMIRI'S.

SINCE 1989, OVER 100,000+ KASHMIRIS HAVE BEEN KILLED BY INDIAN FORCES. WITH OVER 7,200+ KASHMIRIS BEING MURDERED IN INDIAN POLICE CUSTODY, OVER 110,000+ KASHMIRI CHILDREN HAVE BEEN ORPHANED, AND MORE THAN 11,000+ KASHMIRI WOMEN HAVE BEEN RAPED BY INDIAN OCCUPATION FORCES. IN ADDITION, OVER 7,000+ UNNAMED MASS GRAVES HAVE BEEN DISCOVERED WITH THOUSANDS OF VICTIMS.”

The photos below show israel and india’s leaders shaking hands and various armed indian soldiers stopping Kashmiris for unnecessary checks. End ID.

ID 8: In all caps, “ISRAEL'S INVOLVED IN:

PINOCHET COUP - CHILE 1973

CIA BACKED DICTATOR, AUGUSTO PINOCHET TOOK OVER CHILE ON SEPTEMBER 11, 1973. OVERTHROWING ITS DEMOCRATICALLY ELECTED PRESIDENT, SALVADOR ALLENDE. THE NEXT DAY HIS FORCES BEGAN KIDNAPPING ANYONE THEY SUSPECTED OF BEING LEFT WING AND PLACED THEM IN CONCENTRATION CAMPS.

PINOCHET'S SECRET POLICE, DINA (DIRECCION DE INTELIGENCIA NACIONAL) RAN THOSE CONCENTRATION CAMPS AND TORTURE CENTRES, AND THEY FREQUENTLY ABDUCTED, 'DISAPPEARED' AND EXECUTED CHILEAN CIVILIANS. ISRAEL TRAINED DINA AND WAS ALSO ONE OF PINOCHET'S MAIN ARMS SUPPLIERS.”

Black and white photos below showcase various scenes of armed DINA officers, with one photo in particular showing them in a tank over bodies on the ground, presumably dead. End ID.

ID 9: In all caps, “ISRAEL'S INVOLVED IN:

ETHNICALLY CLEANSING ARMENIANS - ONGOING

ISRAEL HAS BEEN FUNDING AND ARMING AZERBAIJAN'S MILITARY SINCE 1988, ARMS WHICH HAVE BEEN USED TO KILL ARMENIAN CIVILIANS THROUGHOUT AZERBAIJAN'S ONGOING ETHNIC CLEANSING OF ARTSAKH. THE ISRAELI REGIME SUPPLIES AZERBAIJAN WITH OVER 70% OF ITS MILITARY ARSENAL.

IN ADDITION TO PROVIDING THE ARMS TO KILL ARMENIANS, ISRAEL ALSO REFUSES TO RECOGNISE THE ARMENIAN GENOCIDE, COMMITTED BY THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE (TURKEY) FROM 1914-1923, WHO SYSTEMATICALLY MURDERED OVER 1.5 MILLION ARMENIAN CIVILIANS.”

Photos below show israel and azerbaijan’s leaders shaking hands, azerbaijan’s soldiers menacingly standing in front of someone wrapped in an Armenian flag, and Armenians mourning over a shrine with their flags all around them. End ID.

ID 10: In all caps, “THE PALESTINIAN STRUGGLE FOR FREEDOM IS CONNECTED TO STRUGGLES ALL AROUND THE WORLD.

BECAUSE OPPRESSORS LIKE ISRAEL ARE NOT ONLY UPHOLDING OPPRESSION AGAINST ONE POPULATION, ITS ALWAYS INTERCONNECTED TO OPPRESSING MANY MORE.

FREE PALESTINE.” No photos at the bottom of this slide. End ID.

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 3rd

Hate Sex, Papa Emeritus II x Catholic!Reader

Masterlist

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: Hate sex; mean dom!Secondo; virgin!Reader; catholic!Reader (for now); degradation; piv; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it); semi-public sex; corruption kink; cunnilingus; multiple orgasms; dubcon; choking; breeding kink?; cum eating (because I’m a slut for it okay? I’ll see you in the goddamn parking lot); vaginal sex; loss of virginity;

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Your father becoming the Pope was not something you anticipated, but it was definitely a dream of his. As his daughter, you had your own responsibilities to the church that you had to maintain, as well as making sure your father’s reputation and standing in the Catholic church remained good and respectable.

You had made it your mission to save as many souls as possible, but only one you had given up on. He was the second son of a man named Nihil Emeritus - a lowly man who called himself Papa and claimed to be the anti-Pope for the Satanic Church. The leader of the opposition. His second son, known simply as Secondo, was cardinal to his father, and was a real piece of work.

You had, in previous years, tried to show him the way of the light, the way of the Lord. But he would always counter you with ridiculous quips and notions about Him that made your blood boil. How can one person be so blind to the rulers that oppress them as much as Satan did? How can they follow a beast so blindly and stray so far from all that was pure?

Constant talks between Satanic and Catholic churches would happen to set specific boundaries both physical and spiritual, but once a year, the Vatican and the Ministry would meet to set an example to followers on both sides - though everyone hated these meetings and wanted them to end, it was important for your church to be seen at the very least converting the dark ones with kindness and love that our Lord had shown you and taught you to be.

This year, for the first time in a hundred years, the Ministry were to host the talks and you were nervous to say the least. You were uncomfortable entering such a sinful building, filled with demons and lost souls, covered in pentagrams and statues of the Devil. As you walked through the white marble halls, you clutched onto your crucifix necklace and prayed quietly for the Lord to keep you safe.

Outside, they had a press conference and photo opportunity. Your father and the blasphemous Nihil had their pictures taken together, shaking hands and pretending to engage in important conversations for the sake of the press, before the rest of the churches were invited to take photos together like a NATO Summit. He was placed next to you.

His ungodly mismatched eyes hidden underneath layers of thick, black paint making him look like a bald panda. Not a single hair underneath his zucchetto, instead the only hair on his head coming from his eyebrows and his moustache. It would be unseemly to compare his aesthetic to a certain kind of video, but he definitely looked like he came straight out of it. You were both in our twenties but his choice of appearance made him look so much older than you. Yet there he was, confidently standing in a respected Cardinal’s uniform, soiling it with a grucifix and a perverted smile.

For the photograph, he put his arm around you, and rested his large, leather gloved hand on your bicep. Though your face was smiling like you were happy to be there, your insides were crawling with disgust. You shoved him off you as soon as the cameras had switched off. “Get your filthy hands off me, you creep!”

“Only for the photo, dipshit. Believe me, looking at you makes my dick soft.”

“Must you always be so vulgar?”

“Must you always be a prude?”

“You know, you are such a-”

“Children,” You heard your father’s voice and immediately silenced yourself, “come.”

“Yes, father.” As you walked towards your father, you brushed passed Secondo’s shoulder hard and held your head up high, preserving what remained of your dignity. You knew your father would force you into penance later for your emotional outburst.

The day was seemingly endless, and you often found your mind drifting away with itself thinking of other things. At first, your mind went to lunch - what would those hellish kitchens serve you? No doubt ground up fetus spaghetti. But when your eyes met Cardinal Secondo’s, your thoughts drifted to him instead. If he wasn’t so brutish, he would be attractive. If he was Catholic he would be attractive. But he was Satanic, an abomination. He needed saving.

Finally, you were granted a break and ran to the restroom as quickly as you could. Coming out, however, you ran into Secondo again.

“Oh, look! It’s the little snob.” He said, his face as stoic as usual. “Probably pissed out the holy water she drinks.”

“Go stick your face in it, see how it feels to burn.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know you were into that.”

“You should repent. Beg the Lord for forgiveness. Turn to the light.”

“I’m much happier under the watchful eye of the fallen archangel, thanks.”

“You’ll burn in Hell.”

“That’s the idea.”

“Filthy sinners deserve to rot there. You and your family will suffer if you don’t-”

He moved towards you and grabbed your chin with his index finger and thumb, his eyes filled with anger and hate. You felt your heart rate spike in fear, yes, but there was also something else you couldn’t identify. “Listen to me, you stupid little sheep. I couldn’t give a fuck about your Lord, your God or the idiots who follow you. I don’t care about that fucking book you live and breathe by and I don’t care about you. You dare to come into my house and dictate what I do? I’ll do what I please, and worship who I please. Maybe you should repent, Sathanas would appreciate how you looked on your knees.”

“Get off me!” You shoved him as hard as you could and freed yourself from his touch. “You vile, filthy pig!” You hit his shoulder. “You sinful, disgusting cockroach! I would never get on my knees for evil bastards like you or your deranged goat god!”

“But you would get on your knees. Unless of course, you’re a virgin.”

You hit him again.

He gasped. “You are!” He laughed. “Saving yourself for marriage, huh? Keeping yourself pure and holy for a god that would kill you with no thoughts of regret.” He grasped onto your chin again. “I could save you, you know? Show you a better way of living. Worshiping a god who worships you back, and sends you the greatest pleasures you’ve ever known.” As he spoke, his face got closer and closer to yours until he was a single inch away from you. You could feel his breath on your face, smell the coffee from his break just moments ago. “Tell me to stop, little lamb, and I will.”

You should have. You don’t know why you didn’t. Maybe there was a part of you that hated how controlled you were by your father. Maybe there was a part of you that wanted to be tempted by a servant of sin. You weren’t sure about the reason, but you knew that when his lips touched yours and he pulled you in for the most passionate kiss you’ve ever had, or the only kiss you’d ever had, you were tasting a glimpse of the pleasure he offered you. His tongue immediately sought entry to your mouth, and you granted the permission, letting him take the lead and teach you what to do. It felt so good. You had to stop. This was wrong.

You pushed him off you one final time and slapped his face. No words were spoken, there wasn’t anything to say. He didn’t look offended by your slap, nor did he look put off by it. He still looked at you with the same lustful expression he had moments ago. And you couldn’t stop yourself.

Your hands gripped his cassock and pulled him back in for another kiss, this one more violent and desperate than it was before. It was messy, all teeth and tongues and no finesse to it whatsoever. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to his body, before gripping onto your ass. The feel of his covered hands clutching onto you sent a thrill through your frame you’d never felt before. Before you knew it, a moan had escaped from your lips and caught up onto his, which made him smile.

The sound of people approaching made you both pull away from each other. You began to panic. You were sure you looked disheveled enough from the kiss alone, and the Cardinal’s cheek was beginning to redden where you slapped it. In a panic, you grabbed hold of his hand and ran into the first unlocked door you could find, keeping the lights off and shutting yourselves in as quietly as you can. Secondo was chuckling at you, but you simply held a hand over his mouth and kept as quiet as you possibly could. You couldn’t be seen being intimate with a member of the Satanic church! It would ruin everything. When the people left, you sighed in relief.

You had unknowingly pulled both of you into an office of some kind, but you didn’t know whose office it was, or if they’d even be back. It was in the silence of the room that you realised what you’d just done. And how close you were to Secondo. Before more doubts could sneak back in, your lips found each other’s again. You don’t know who started it, but now that you had, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. His zucchetto was the first thing to hit the floor, followed by your own hat and your heels.

Secondo’s mouth travelled to your neck and began placing open mouthed kisses there, driving you mad with want. You couldn’t think of anything else other than him. You loathed him, he was evil. But he felt so good.

He backed you up against the desk in the room and continued to kiss your neck, his hands roaming all over your body. His were the first to touch you in so many places: your shoulders, your arms, your waist, your stomach, your breasts and now your thighs.

Your legs opened for him automatically so he could slot comfortably between them. Your sun dress hiked up over your thighs, giving him perfect access to your panties which were now drenched in your arousal. It wasn’t long before his hands made their way under your skirts and stroking over your vulva. He barely pulled away from your neck to utter his words, “the good Catholic girl, soaking wet for the Devil’s son. Do you think your god is watching, little lamb? Hm?” His fingers moved your panties aside. “Do you think he’s disappointed in you giving into temptation?”

“Yes.”

He stood up straight, his forehead touching yours as his finger rolled over your clit. You released a strangled noise at the new sensation, and your hips bucked. “You’ve been a good girl up until now, haven’t you? Keeping yourself pure for your god. My god sent me to you,” he pushed one finger inside your wet heat tapping upwards immediately, “I am His gift to you. Tell me, little lamb, will you accept His gift, even just for today? Will you let the one you hate the most defile you?”

“Yes!”

He kissed your lips again as his fingers hooked into your pure white panties and pulled them off you. He got onto his knees and directed your legs to rest onto his shoulders. You couldn’t help it. “I hate you so fucking much - ah!”

He silenced you by wrapping his lips around your clitoris and sucking hard, not giving you any chance to ease into this. You could feel him smirk into your cunt as he lapped up your juices, shaking his head and licking away until he was convinced you were seeing stars.

Your hands flew to his head, holding onto him as if you were about to float away. The pleasure was so overwhelming, and nothing like anything you’d ever felt before. Sexual pleasure of all types was a sin - and you had never indulged at all. You were too scared to. You were an adult, so sheltered about adult things you knew nothing of what your body could do. But now here you were, legs spread with the son of the anti-pope licking up your arousal like he was eating his first meal in days.

That same son was now inserting a finger inside of you again, tapping up and making you cry out. Your noises were uncontrollable and loud, but there was nothing you could do about it. Silence didn’t feel like an option. You needed to make noise and you couldn’t explain why. You gasped when he added a second finger. Your hips moved on their own accord and you bucked into the pleasure, simultaneously wanting to escape it but also get as close to it as physically possible.

“W-wait!” You said. Your words were slurred and your voice full of panic. “S-something’s happening. You - mmm - you have t-to stop please!”

He ignored you entirely, refusing to stop his ministrations no matter how much you squirmed. “Stop, y-you sack of sh-shit. Oh my God!” His other hand, somehow so powerful, stopped your hips from wriggling away and pinned you to the desk. You were helpless when you toppled over the edge, seeing black as you came for the first time. Secondo worked you until you were overstimulated and collapsed back onto the cold wood of the desk. Your body covered in sweat and your breathing laboured. Your head was spinning from the intensity and you could barely move.

Secondo stood, his hand on his crotch moving his cassock out the way to free himself. His cock was big, or to you it was anyway, girthy and as long as his hand. He gripped your hips and pulled you towards the edge, making sure you were easy access for him. He lined his cock up to your vulva once more, but instead of pushing inside he rubbed himself against your folds, groaning at the feel. “This is your last chance,” he told you, “tell me to leave and I will. If you don’t, I will sodomise this virgin cunt of yours.”

The feel of his cock against your folds was torturous. Your hole was clenching around nothing, screaming for him to enter you and have his way with you. There was a small voice in your head telling you to run, leave now while you still could. Your whimpers and the sound of your wetness was now the only noise in the room.

“What do you want, little lamb? Do you want me to stop?”

“No!”

He stopped his ministrations and placed the head of his cock at your entrance and pushed in the smallest amount, not enough to completely penetrate you, but enough to drive you insane. “Tell me what you want.”

“F-fuck me.” The request tasted weird but you meant it.

Secondo nodded. He grabbed hold of your hand and held it. “Look at me.” He told you.

For a second, you looked vulnerable and it made his dick throb. You sat up and placed your hand on his chest, nervously pushing him away with no force. “Will it hurt?” You had always been told that it would hurt, and now you were scared you’d be in pain.

His own tough facade dissipated briefly, and the hand that wasn’t gripped in yours went to cup your face. “No.” He said gently. “You are wet enough and my fingers stretched you. But if it hurts too much you must tell me.”

You nodded.

With you now concentrating on him, he began to push into you. His thick cock spread your walls a little further than his fingers did, and the pressure was a lot. Both of your hands moved up to his neck, grasping onto him, as your eyebrows worried and your mouth fell open. Every time you thought he would stop he just kept going.

“You good?”

Your body was on fire. There were too many things to feel. “Yes. Oh God!”

The toughness returned to his demeanour and there was a dark glint in his eye. “Your god can’t help you now, little lamb.”

Before you had the chance to process his words, he pulled out of you and then slammed all the way back in, causing you to scream It felt Earth-shatteringly good to have him inside you. He did it again. And again. “You sadistic bastard!” You exclaimed in between moans.

He laughed but said nothing, instead concentrating his gaze on where your bodies met. Every rough thrust sent you a little further across the desk, and your back couldn’t remain upright. You allowed yourself to lie back down again, your body jiggling violently with every movement. You had to bite your finger to keep you from screaming again.

“Look at you,” Secondo began, “lying there with your - fuck - your legs spread like a c-common whore.” You tightened. “The whore likes being reminded of who she is, hm?”

His hips moved faster and faster as he got more into his head, watching your tits bounce as he defiled you.

“What’s the matter, little lamb? Devil steal that tongue? Mm, shit. No smart remark? Wh-where’s that snobby cunt who keeps telling me to repent now?” He pulled out of you and manhandled you off the desk, spinning you around and bending you over it slightly. He slammed into you once more. His hand wrapped around your throat. “Oh, that’s right, she’s booking herself a one way ticket to Hell.”

“Fuck you!” You hissed.

“Giving yourself willingly to the son of Satan. Oh, how the righteous fall from grace.”

His other hand ran seductively down your body, and as his teeth began to bite your ear, his finger stroked your clit in circles. His breath in your ear, his hand on your clit, his cock in your cunt, it was all too much. You were surrounded by him, breathing him. He was everywhere and difficult to escape. But you didn’t want to escape. This was the most free you’d ever felt, the best you’d ever felt. You came around his cock this time, tugging at his cassock and gasping for air, collapsing back onto the table.

In your mind, you saw the crucifix within your private quarters at the Vatican - the very same one that was gifted to you by the previous pope. You could see Jesus as if he were right in front of you. The look of disappointment present on his face as he watched you give into temptation and gift your most sacred gift to the Devil. The disappointment didn’t make you feel guilty for once in your life.

With that thought in your mind and the fog cleared, you began taking control, meeting Secondo’s thrusts with as much passion as he was giving which stole a guttural moan from him. “Oh, fuck, just like that. Let me fuck this tight, virgin cunt. Take my cock, you fucking whore.” Both of his hands grasped your hips with such tightness, you thought he would bruise you. “You’re gonna make me cum. Is that what you want, little lamb? Shit! You want me to cum deep in this cunt? Knock you up with the fucking Antichrist, hm?”

No. It was too risky. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Cum inside me. Give me your filth!” You heard yourself say.

With a growl, Secondo stilled and emptied himself into you, letting his own body fall forward and pin you down to the desk. You had no choice now, you were forced to take all his cum whether you wanted it or not. How would you beg for forgiveness now that the Devil’s seed was spilling into your willing womb?

Despite his exhaustion, Secondo dropped to his knees again and ran his tongue through your folds, collecting his cum from your pussy and working you towards your third and final orgasm. This was bordering on pain, but it felt so good. Your knuckles turned white from how hard you gripped the desk. Turning to look behind you, you saw him practically worshiping your cunt, and that alone was enough to tip you back over the edge.

When all had finished, and you were both redressing in silence, you realised the implications of what had just happened. You had committed the ultimate sin… and you didn’t want to go back…

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day ⛧ Part 2

[narutouzumakiarchive]

A while ago, I made a post about hypocritical Sasusaku stans that pretend to be anti Konoha so they can criticize SNS (despite having no grounds to stand on), and in light of recent annoying discourse, in this post I'm going to go over a case example at length because this perfectly encapsulates the typical behavior of that fandom.

So let's take a look at this post. In this tweet, they mention their criticism of Sasuke being saved from the darkness at the end. Now in order to deconstruct this post, we have to look at what "darkness" symbolizes in Naruto's text.

And when you look at the text, you'll see that "darkness" was attributed two distinct, but sometimes interconnected, senses. The first meaning of darkness in the text was loneliness, plain and simple. Wee see pitch black imagery when Naruto recounts the pain he experienced before he met Team 7, when he was all alone. And we also see this imagery crop up when Sasuke enters into a shroud of darkness after experiencing the pain of leaving Naruto, who is symbolically represented as the juxtaposed light to Sasuke's darkness. Though he doesn't cut off Naruto, an issue which is the crux of their conflict after the timeskip, the panels of Sasuke talking about pain still serve to contextualize his state of mind when leaving Naruto: "If I leave Naruto, I will experience pain, much pain."

The second meaning of the darkness is also established during the Sasuke retrieval arc: hatred. Itachi, in his desperation to be judged by Sasuke, forces Sasuke to seek out hatred in order to acheive his goal of avenging the clan by killing Itachi. And of course this meaning of the concept of darkness comes with a host of attendant negative connotations, as darkness is frequently associated with evil — especially in the Christian mythos that Kishimoto drew from.

Now there is certainly something to be said for Kishimoto's conservative framing, but that's for another post. The purpose of laying out the two meanings of "darkness" invoked in the text was to compare and contrast Sakura and Naruto at the end of the manga and see which particular meaning of darkness was salient in their motivations regarding Sasuke, and well... things don't look good for "sasukeslawyer."

Because Naruto continually reinforces his motivations for saving Sasuke. In the text it's explicitly spelled out that Naruto wants to help ease Sasuke's loneliness. There's a reason why the resolution of their feelings is spurred on by Naruto admitting to feeling pain for Sasuke, the same pain that Kishimoto narratively links to being alone.

Sakura, on the other hand, wanted to save Sasuke from the darkness of "evil" at the end of the manga. It is established during the 5 Kage Summit that because Sakura "loves" Sasuke, she wants to prevent him from continuing on a path of darkness and progressing towards evil. And Sai's description of Sakura's actions receive authorial endorsement. In this scene, Kishimoto builds up Sai's credibility by having him accurately assess that Sakura was quite likely planning on killing Sasuke and that her smile, when she stated she was planning on working together with her Konoha comrades to acheive that objective, was forced. The reader is given no reason to doubt this.

But most significantly, not once does the text show Sakura reneging on her beliefs about Sasuke's darkness. When we get insight into her feelings about Sasuke during the war arc, it is made blatantly clear that she distrusts him which is shown through the same fake smile she showed Sai before heading off to kill Sasuke. Additionally Sakura's to desire to save Sasuke from the darkness is reinforced, this time through another mouthpiece in Kakashi. And athough Kakashi is not the most reliable character, the text doesn't contradict this particular fact.

But Kakashi's reliability doesn't particularly matter for this post because "sasukeslawyer" and most other sasusaku fans believe Kakashi to be a reliable character that understands all of Sakura's actions. As indicated below, she takes no issue with Kakashi's assessment that Sakura wanted to save Sasuke from this negative darkness. And yet, there's no attempted moral harranguing or criticism of Sakura for wanting to save Sasuke from the progression towards evil by *checks notes* killing him. Nor is there criticism of Sakura never changing in this regarding and maintaining that desire to save him from the negatively connoted darkness.

In fact, "sasukeslawyer," has no problem with the idea of Sasuke, the genocide survivor, traveling for years to reedem himself and be "worthy" of the same Sakura who attempted to kill him on behalf of the same village she claims to hate only when she can use it in an attempt to downplay Naruto and Sasuke's dynamic.

Like aside from the fact that this obviously isn't true [Kishimoto wrote 9 pages of Sasuke reflecting on his journey in the manga and not once is Sakura mentioned, because he can't individuate her and Sakura had to chase Sasuke on his journey because Sasuke never came back and Sakura couldn't take a hint]...

On what earth is Sasuke not worthy in general, let alone for Sakura, who's shallow romantic inclinations he repeatedly rejected to begin with. It is Sakura who didn't take accountability for trying to kill Sasuke instead of bothering to find out why Sasuke took the actions he took. She is never forced to reflect even once on how she acted towards Sasuke nor do we ever see her make a single negative or critical statement about the shinobi system. But these alleged anti-Konoha warriors have no complaints about that, and that's because it's not about them disliking Konoha or the elders who deserve to die. It's about them trying to undermine SNS because they resent Naruto and Sasuke's dynamic and want to prop up SS. But don't just take my word for it.

They take the canonical scenes of Sasuke looking at Naruto, which mirrored Sakura's own body language towards Sasuke, in order to attribute it to Sakura (this is one of many examples).

The sharingan is obviously a reflection of love and Naruto was explicitly associated with Sasuke's sharingan on three different ocassions. Kishimoto cared so little for SS that he couldn't even bother to associate a crucial element of Sasuke's character with Sakura in manga that he wrote with his own hands. So Sasusaku have to use filler novels that Kishimoto didn't write, let alone acknowledge, to say that Sasuke would transform a new and unheard of sharingan if he lost Sakura. LOL.

There's the editing the panels of VOTE 2 to claim that Sasuke made Sakura watch Naruto and Sasuke's personal memories, despite the fact that 1. We clearly see the only thing Sasuke shows Sakura is a violent genjutsu of her getting stabbed in the chest.

2. The manga utilizes clear visual language to depict the transition from memories into real life to indicatr who is thinking about the memories, something not present in the panel that Sakura wakes up from which makes because

3. Naruto and Sasuke thought about memories which Sakura wasn't even present for and Sasuke cannot telepathically transmit memories.

And this isnt even all, but the point stands nevertheless. Sasusaku fans harass SNS shippers using fake moral justifications that they don't even abide by. Don't be fooled. It's always been about their frustrations over the romantic tones in SNS. But it won't change the fact that more than anyone else, Naruto and Sasuke both saved eachother from the darkness of loneliness more than anybody else.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Paradise Itself - A Thor/Reader Smut Short.

A little smutty gift for my lovely @jemmalynette, and all you other Thor girls, too!

Words - 785

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

When he’s been gone, it builds up in you, the need for him, the craving, the desire.  

How can it not? Your love is Thor, a god of a man, a feast for the eyes, the heart and all of the senses, too.  

Needless to say, he hungers for you just as much when you’re parted, the urgency of that shown when he returns, making everything that burns golden in the bedroom with you his first priority. 

That evening, he begins by wrapping you in the sanctuary of his huge arms, loving kisses scattered, the removal of your clothes down to the finest of arts. He makes you feel truly worshipped, hands and mouth gliding over your flesh, provoking an almost feral keening for him. Beneath his bulk, you rise and fall gently like a wave against the warmth of him, his fingers moving to part the petals of your sex, fingers snaking inside of you.  

He kisses the gasps that fall from your lips, your body bucking against his hand as his fingers root deep, his thumb rubbing sensations of bliss at your clit. “You feel like paradise itself around my fingers, my love.” he sighs, mouth claiming yours again, drinking back your little cries like wine. He can feel you keening for him, his cock flushed dark as it bobs against your thigh, hissing a breath when you reach for him, stroking that sublime hardness as you guide him to your streaming folds.  

“Please, Thor.”  

He chuckles, his head dipping to suck your nipples in turn. “Who am I to make my lady wait,” he groans, moving his fingers to slowly sink into the velvet clasp of you, mouth pressing to yours. 

Those gentle ministrations eventually culminate in him having you rested against a stack of pillows, your legs over his shoulders, cock cutting through the silk of your cunt while you roll your hips up into him to ensnare those final few delicious inches of his thick erection. He groans carnivorously, hands all over you in reacquaintance, clasping your face, fingers grazing your neck and squeezing your breasts before finally settling at your bum, lifting you off the bed a little, deepening your join. 

God, it’s pure heavenly bliss.    

You’re pressed against him so tightly, your clit rubs against his abs as you grind the length of his cock, sending lustful tingles through your body, making you jolt and quake ardently, panting against his mouth. His thickness drags your walls deftly, lips at your neck, fucking you assiduously, charging towards your complete undoing.   

It’s unbridled, passionate, have-to-have-you sex, his cock hitting your summit as you flutter around him, the lewd sound of him cutting through your wetness filling the room, along with your mutual heavy breathing.   

Your cunt clenches on him, sparks crackling through you as the heat of him cuts right through to the marrow of you, hard and unrelenting. He steals your cries with sumptuous, hungry kisses, knowing you’re close, reaching between you to thumb your slick across your bud, sparks skittering through you, lightening bouncing beneath his touch as he fucks your release into you. 

He gives you a little time, slowing down, leaning to kiss you as his hardness slips slowly in and out of your softly clenching centre. That gentleness, though, it doesn’t last for long. He arrows into you so deeply, your breasts bounce, your nipples becoming his focal point as he grips your hips, fingers digging into your skin as the pebbled pink peaks are further furled in the warmth of his mouth. He has you moaning soft and sweet, your nails flexing at his shoulders as he assaults your walls with deep, hard thrusts, momentum gathering, containment abandoned. 

“Come undone one more time for me. I know you can, my little dove.” he groans, assailing you wantonly, wanting to drag it from you, make you crest once more. 

He’s heavy within you, coaxing sparks from your fluttering walls, hot breaths whirring against your cleavage before his mouth claims yours once more and you drink back the groan that pours from his lips, your insides twisting pleasantly as you feel him shudder against you.   

Pleasure fizzes through you, everything feeling incredible in its intensity once more, your sun blazing over his horizon for a second time, your cries helpless, your flutters around him milking his cock as he shatters within you.  

Dreamy contentment rolls over you both, Thor moving to rest at your side and wrap you in his arms. His hands stroke you, loving whispers uttered, stroked into a blissful sleep. A rest well earned, after what you’ve just shared. Satiating the appetite of the god of thunder isn’t for the faint of heart.  

[hush-writes-preg]

oooooo, could you mix 5 and 9?

Can do!

"you can't give birth here."

"there. that ought to keep that baby in there."

(For the Birth Denial Writing Prompts!)

You're the expectant spouse of a powerful, egotistical king, but you didn't realize the depths of his self-absorption until today.

Today, your kingdom welcomes delegates from all across the continent to an important trade summit. Your spouse has spared no expense in preparing the most lavish, eye-popping display of power and wealth for all his guests-- including you.

You've been dressed in the finest silks and bejeweled clothing to showcase your delicate looks and the massive swell of your pregnant belly for all to see. It doesn't matter to your husband that you've been struggling with contractions since the evening before, nor that you can barely keep upright due to how hard and fast they're now coming. You're meant to be another piece of his display, and that means you'll be at his side, no exceptions. At least until he grows bored of your presence and lets you slip away.

"You're not going to give birth in front of all of those people," he says in response to your increasingly frantic requests to be excused from the preparations, his voice cold. "You can't give birth here either, because I still have need of you. So calm your ridiculous hysterics and act like the aristocrat you're supposed to be."

You plead for mercy, your massive belly visibly quaking beneath the fabric of your fine clothing. But he's never once shown you a scrap of compassion, and he's not about to start now. Sliding his frigid gaze down your quivering form, he finally snaps his fingers to summon a servant. They share a few whispers while you clutch at your laboring belly, instinctively knowing that the growing pressure in your pelvis can't bode well.

When the servant returns, he's carrying a box. Panic rises in your throat as the king orders you to turn around and bend over, knowing that you won't like his 'solution'. You choke back tears as strange hands slide over your body and a thick, chilly plug is shoved unceremoniously inside of you, lubricated but cold as it seals off your birth canal.

"There. That ought to keep that baby in there," the servant says without a hint of concern about what he'd just done. "Anything else, my Lord?"

"You're dismissed," says the king, watching as the other servants haul you upright and start tugging your clothing back into place. Once you're presentable again, he holds out his arm for you to take. "Now, put a smile on your face and stop looking so miserable; you'll be able to whelp my heir when the timing is more convenient. Right now, your place is at my side."

Another contraction shudders through your belly, but with no place for the baby to go, all you can do is waddle after your husband and pray you can make it through the next few hours.

[toms-cherry-trees]

Ash & Shadows || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: The night is long and dreary. Does the future hold hope, or is there just pain left?

Word count: 4.9k

Tags: Implications of major character death, grief, angst, Tommy being and asshole and then regretting it, set after s6e6 so I had to work around that hot mess. It has some Gothic and ghostly themes

Author’s note: A CALENDAR YEAR I PROCRASTINATED THIS but I HAD to finish it so, enjoy?

The tears have long dried in your cheeks, but their saltiness lingers in your tongue. Your throat feels parched, but you cannot find it in yourself to cross the few steps that separate you from the cup of stale tea in your nightstand, nor any of the dozen abandoned beverages that litter the master bedroom. There’s whiskey with water on the mantelpiece, sitting next to some plain water, and remnants of milk with honey and cinnamon, in which you suspect Frances mixed some drops of laudanum, for you felt strangely calm after drinking it, but not enough to find sleep. The bed is a mess, proof of your restlessness, the sheets and blankets hastily pulled from the corners and wrapped tightly around you like a protective cocoon, in hopes that the comforting swaddle will keep you whole for one more night. But they do little to placate the unforgiving cold spreading through your insides, a chill sprouting from within your very soul.

The ash and soot linger on your hands, caked under your ruined nails and smeared across your raw skin. Your clothes have not been changed in days, and they smell of burnt wood and petrol, mixed with something unspeakable and revolting. The stench is rooted in your nostrils, so pervasive you taste it in your mouth, in your throat, in the depths of your lungs. It spreads through your veins and seeps into your bones, consuming your spirit in waves of black and death. You are overcome by the vile venom, and even the mere evocation of it makes you choke and heave violently. A foulness you will never be able to forget, perennially engraved in the deepest corners of your memory, alongside other grim chapters of your past. But unlike others, this has changed your life, your self, the very course of your existence. You cannot fathom how the world continues to spin and the sun to rise in the horizon after such ground shattering devastation has occurred. 

Your husband is dead, that much you know. He is dead and you are still alive and in your heart, that goes against the laws of nature. You are not meant to exist without the other. You had swore to grow old together, how could he leave you thirty years before his time? How could he leave when your children had not even learned to tie their shoes themselves yet? He had not yet commissioned the treehouse he promised them, how could he abandon them halfway through?

You should have known something was amiss. You knew your husband, better than anyone could. You had a way to read his thoughts and forestall his actions that not even his late aunt could comprehend. Only you could dissipate the fog from his troubled mind and unravel the rigmarole which composed the very foundations of his existence. He had once said, late at night, with his arm around your waist while he believed you fast asleep, that he felt like a man standing alone under a wicked thunderstorm, and you were the only one brave enough to face the tempest and come to him with an umbrella, even at the risk of your own life. But he would forever take the umbrella from your hands. Your life before his, every single time.

How could you not foresee this?

Ever since the failed assassination on Mosley, Tommy had slowly but steadily gone down a steep slope, one not even you could rescue him from. Life had never shown him mercy; every time he reached the pinnacle, a new mountain blocked his way, mightier and deadlier than the last. He had surmounted them all, not without penalty, leaving blood bathed bullets and bodies in his wake. But at last, Tommy had found his Everest. The summit taunted him, unreachable; the death of his aunt clobbered him like an avalanche, and the man he became after that didn’t hold the slightest resemblance to the man you fell in love with. You were sure that if you sat the present day Tommy before the one he used to be in 1919, they would not recognise each other.

He tried to keep you shielded from his meetings with the fascists, the rallies, the gossip and scandal. Only he knew the dangers that lurked in the shadows of the garden while you sat before the fireplace reading stories with your children. And only he knew about the stacks of bills being passed from hand to hand, sealing deals and pacts that promised to change the course of history. Tommy only wanted you to worry about your charities, your horses and your pretty dresses, and leave the rest of the world upon his steady shoulders.

In his mind, oblivious meant safe. For you, it felt like a lack of trust in your person. And that soon morphed into bitter resentment, never shown openly but perpetually simmering just beneath the surface, ready to erupt. Lying had always come easy to him, but it became harder when his lies were unmasked in the morning paper. How could he pledge innocence when his face showed up on the front page next to the leader of the British Union of Fascists? How could he deny his guilt, with Diana Mitford right at his tail?

How could he pretend leaving you in the dark was for the greater good?

Everything came to a breaking point when he suddenly summoned you to his study to inform you he would be departing for Canada the following day, with no clear return date and refusing to elaborate on what called him so suddenly to cross the Atlantic. The more you pressed for answers, the more he manoeuvred around them with carefully premeditated replies of vague content, half finished sentences and loose words, so unlike him that the lies unravelled on their own before your eyes. His total carelessness over the situation and the dismissal of your worries became the drop that tipped the glass. Months of carefully concealed rancour came bursting to the surface like an erupting volcano. 

You called him every name in the book, reminding him of the things you had endured for his sake over the long course of your relationship, while he could not even allow you the decency of forewarning you of such a trip or offer an acceptable explanation for such haste in departure, the acrimony in your heart even making you ask if he had special company for the journey. His impassive silence only irked you further, and you told him he could get a one way ticket to hell for all you cared, before slamming the door to his office so violently you heard a painting fall and shatter on the ground. 

The day after, you rounded the kids in the foyer for the mandatory goodbyes. He hugged them all long and tight, a rarity in itself for a man who had become so cold and withdrawn he barely spared them a glance in the mornings over his newspaper. And then he kneeled before Charlie and placed a brand new gold pocket watch in the boy’s little hands. Your husband said men wore pocket watches and he would be the man of the house now. The boy only stared back, perplexed, and nodded once silently before pocketing the precious object with utmost care.

You remained irate, arms crossed over your chest, fingers drumming on your arm impatiently. It was hard to tell you apart from an enraged bull staring at a red cloth. A part of you felt like a petulant child, but after so many years of marriage and everything you had silently withstood for him, you could no longer hide the hurt and disappointment, feelings far too familiar that you had grown accustomed to conceal. You only allowed him a brief goodbye, turning your face away when he tried to kiss your lips, presenting your cheek instead. He didn’t protest, his lips lingering on your skin longer than they had done in years, his gloved hand cradling the back of your neck and playing with your hair. His free arm circled your waist and pulled you close, face moving to rest in the crook of your neck as he inhaled deeply, as if committing the scent of your body to memory.

A strange sense of foreboding filled you, but you forced it out of your mind. 

If you had known what the future held ahead, you would have jumped into his arms, engraving in your memory every detail of himself; the feeling of his hands on your waist, the timbre of his voice. Traced every nook and cranny of his face with your fingertips, over and over until you could forever recall it. You would have kissed those lips until they bled, and with the same ferocity, you would have screamed and clawed and made the windows rattle and the ground shake, demanding an explanation. Demanding to know why.

The days passed, and the worry began to gnaw at your chest. The hotel address he gave you didn’t exist, nor did the phone number which he scribbled down hastily seconds before crossing the threshold, only after you demanded to have a way to contact him should an emergency arise with the kids. The kids. Not you. Over his shoulder, as if an afterthought, he said he would call. After the first week of silence you had a landline installed outside your bedroom, and you would stare incessantly at the apparatus, willing it to ring. One time you heard the faint ringing in the study from the entrance door, and you rushed to it with such haste you vaulted over a sofa and snapped your high heel off. But it only turned out to be Ada, checking in on you. Ever since that day, everyone seemed to grow suspiciously closer to you. Calls and visits and days out. Ada inviting you to London and looking after the kids to give you a day off. Curly and Charlie coming often to help the kids tame their new ponies. Arthur would come too, far too often to be normal, and he would sit across from you in the living room, nursing a whiskey in his hand and poorly attempting small talk, always looking ready to be sick and evading your gaze.

Their pitiful stares didn’t go unnoticed, nor did some carefully chosen words, such as how your kids would always be looked after and provided for in the family, how they would always be there for you and would support whatever you chose to do with your life. Praising your strength, offering their support, always looking away or changing the subject when you asked if your husband had called them. The thinly veiled edge of desperation in your voice seemed to stir something within them, and redoubled their efforts in consoling you for something you didn’t yet know.

The truth laid bare before your very eyes, just an inch out of reach, concealed just enough to keep you in the dark with confusing glimpses of the life ahead.

But the passive games and the uncertainty came to an abrupt halt one bright sunny morning, the skies blue and clear like Tommy’s eyes and a gentle breeze fanning over the gardens. You told the nannies to prepare the kids for a picnic in the meadow, and helped Frances set up a plentiful food basket. But just before you could set foot out, a car stopped in the driveway. The frantic knocking on the door and the slurred screaming had you fearfully peeking out through the draperies, your finger readied on the trigger of a gun, only to see Arthur slumped against one of the columns of the entrance, calling out your name. Before he could say another word, you knew he had relapsed back into the opium, acquired from who knows where. Even from afar, he reeked of alcohol and smoke, face bloated and eyes bloodshot and swollen. He staggered forward, nearly toppling over you before falling to his knees, his face distorted in anguish. You tried to pull him up, to coax some sort of explanation out of him, anything to placate the worry crawling up your chest.

A million possible scenarios played in your head, yet not even ten lives could have prepared you for the simple words that escaped his mouth.

“Tommy is dead”

From that point on, memories become elusive. Only fleeting moments remain. You recall your own hands, hands meant to nurture, caress and comfort; hands that wiped tears, stroked hairs and tickled bellies, your kind and gentle hands gripping Arthur’s coat lapels and pulling on him with such force he came back to his feet, startled. You remember shaking him violently, teeth gritted and vision blurred with hot tears, your mascara running down your cheeks. Your lips parted to scream, but you cannot recall what words came out of your mouth. Arthur tried to pry your hands open and take some distance, but then you slapped him across the face. Or maybe not. Perhaps it was a punch. Or maybe a detail that never happened, later added by your wrecked mind. Because you hoped that if you screamed and punched and tore the world to pieces you would awaken from that nightmare.

You saw the smoke long before the car reached the side road. The perfume of the blooming flowers could not mask the wafting aroma of charred wood, petrol and burnt fabrics, with something else you could not quite pinpoint, but smelled vile and pernicious. A cheerful meadow stretched out before you, bright green dotted with white and yellow spreading as far as the eye reached across gentle hills. And amidst all, a scorched patch of land, and a pile of still smouldering debris, wisps of acrid poison swirling in the docile spring breeze. 

You leapt towards the vardo’s remains, but Arthur restrained you, slender but firm arms circled tight around your waist as he attempted to comfort you; as if there could be any comfort for you in that moment and place. You fought him with tooth and nail, scratching and biting and kicking like a frenzied beast, cursing his name, his bloodline and his entire existence. All he did back was shush you, a hand pressed to your abdomen, his arm around your chest as your knees gave and you collapsed into him, agonising wails wracking your to your core.

You cried out for Tommy, but only death called back.

In time, the smoke cleared and the pyre cooled, allowing you a clear view of the massacre before your very eyes. Like the leftovers of a bonfire, wood so thoroughly charred it disintegrated on the hand, mixed with scalding pieces of metal and leftover rags that once were curtains and bedding. You fell to your knees, frantic fingers digging at the ash and earth bare handed, soot and dust clinging to your sweat doused skin, getting in your eyes, your nose, your mouth. Your fingers ached and your skin reddened and blistered in the heat, but you felt nothing, nothing but the overcoming grief coiling around your heart, constricting your throat and freezing the blood in your veins. Your tears sizzled as they fell on the ground. You dug and dug, panicked sobs reverberating in the emptiness of the meadow, your pain a sharp contrast with the chirping of the blackbirds on the branches. 

You could find but only a few scarce belongings that survived the conflagration. A couple of gold sleeve garters. His pocket watch, the mechanism somehow still working. The frames of his reading glasses, the crystals having been lost to the heat. No matter how deep you dug, his wedding ring was nowhere to be found. And everything else had turned to ash and dust.

Ashes of the vardo. 

Ashes of your memories together.

Ashes of the man.

The love of your life swept away by the wind.

~

You no longer know if it’s day or night. The heavy drapes are closed, and only a few dying embers remain in the hearth. The room is cold, more than usual, robbed from the warmth of fire and the warmth of love. Time passess differently when grief has its clutches around you. Every second is too slow, yet every day moves by too fast. Three days have swept by, maybe four, plus the month of faked departure in which he roamed the fields while you believed him across the pond. His scent is fading from the pillows, from his clothes, from your memory. You sprayed some of his cologne on your wrists but it's not the same because it is not on his skin. It is not mixed with leather, ink and gunpowder. It is not him.

You already fear you are forgetting the right colour of Tommy’s eyes, the various hues mixing in your mind but none seems quite right. Are they the colour of the sky on a bright summer day? The tranquil sea surrounding the ship that took you to your honeymoon on the continent? Do they match the aquamarines from the demi parure he gifted you on your birthday, just because he said their colour suited your skin?

No. No do. Did. Because his eyes are no more. His bright eyes, his rare smiles, his handsome face, his protective hands and everything in between are no more. They are just ash and dust, a pile abandoned in the middle of an open field being swept by the wind and rain.

Floorboards creak on the hallway, but it could be the scurrying maids as much as the wandering spirits that populate your home, souls rooted in the land due to unfinished businesses from their past lives, acting as owner and keepers of a place where you are but a temporary guest. A door slams shut somewhere in the house, and the windows creak and rattle under the assault of the brewing tempest. The room grows icier, if possible, your breath rising in puffs of white. Your fingers feel stiff, achingly clutching onto an old pocket watch. Even the rings in your hands have turned to ice.

You curl tighter into yourself, if possible, your palms pressed to your face to warm your freezing nose and lips. Sleep threatens to take you, but you fight it with all your might, for the only place worse than life right now, is inside your head. The nightmares have chased you ever since that day, each one more horrifying than the last. But the body beats the mind, and your eyelids, heavy as lead, fall shut, your consciousness slipping away in waves.

You cannot be sure how long you slept, or if you did at all, when something startles you into attention. You sit up abruptly, heart beating frenziedly in your chest. The room is pitch dark, and for a moment you are disoriented, unsure of where you are. It takes long seconds for you to notice there’s a body next to yours, and a heavy, warm hand is pressed against your back to support you.

When you turn your head, the scream falls from your lips involuntarily, and you are positive your heart stops briefly. He looks so well, so perfectly well and common, so alive. Your hands are on his face, on his neck, running down his chest and arms as your mind struggles to come to terms with the image in front of your eyes.

“Tommy?”

Shrouded in black, his hair damp and  tousled, and perfectly unharmed. As if he were just returning from a session in Parliament. His hand slides up your body, from your back to your shoulder, then your neck and up to cup your face, thumb brushing against your tear streaked cheek. You lean instinctively against his touch; the warmth from his palm spreads through your skin like a soothing balm. It feels safe; it feels like home, like the place where you belong. 

His free arms circles your waist and pulls you into him, your head tucked between his chin and shoulder and your body pulled onto his lap. Both of your arms wrap tightly around his middle, fearing that if you let go, he would disappear like smoke, forever this time.

“Tommy? Tommy, what happened? Where have you been?” Tears brim again in your eyes, and the coil tightens around your throat “I…I don’t understand. Arthur said that you were…that you were” The word, that word, cannot make it past the knot. The word you so dreaded to accept. “I saw the ashes in the meadow”

He says nothing, nothing besides a hum of acknowledgement at your words. His thumb brushes back and forth against your cheekbone, the other hand tracing lines up and down the length of your spine, causing your belly to flutter. You are confused, terribly so, your thoughts reeling with the need for answers. But Tommy, as usual, offers none, and you don’t really want to spoil the moment, not when your heart is finally at peace after the terrible weeks you’ve endured.

The embrace goes on forever, none of you making effort to move or speak. Every now and then you feel his lips brush against your forehead, or his nose bury in your hair and inhale deeply, drowning himself in your scent. The storm howls outside, windows rattling with the strength of the wind, the glasses mercilessly pelted by ferocious raindrops. By now, the children would usually be awake and crowding your bed, seeking safety under your blankets. But peacefulness reigns their slumber that night, and you are grateful for it. You desperately need this moment alone with your husband.

His head tilts suddenly, just enough to place a gentle kiss against your temple, then his lips brush against the shell of your ear

“I am sorry” His voice is raspy and worn, as if it has not been used in quite some time “For everything. For keeping you in the dark, for not trusting your strength. For everything I put you through” His embrace around you tightens into an almost painful grip, as if he wishes to fuse his body into yours “You are fierce. And strong. The strongest woman I know. You can overcome anything, nothing could tear you down”

For some reason, those words do not sit right with you. They feel ominous, almost like a forever goodbye. You try to crane your neck to get a better look at his face, to read his expression, but he resists, hidden in the curve of your neck. Your heartbeat quickens in panic.

“I am only strong when I have you by my side. I need you, Tommy. These past days have ruined me. I cannot tread upon an earth you do not exist in.” Your fingers dig on the fabric of his coat, and for the first time you notice his clothes are dampened and smell faintly of wet soil and smoke.

Tommy chuckles, the familiar sound reverberating inside your ribs. He shifts again and his lips are against your forehead, continuing to refuse you a clear glimpse of his face.

“You were strong when I met you. You were strong when I tried to push you away for your own safety. And I know you will continue to be. For the family, for our children. They need you. You are their whole world”

Again those words, those threats of a future in which he had no place. The tears come back with renewed strength, blurring your vision and choking the words in your mouth, but you manage to force them. You cannot leave anything unsaid, not if he’s planning to abandon you once more.

“They need their father too” You protest “Please, Tommy. You can’t walk away again. Not when you are back in my arms” Your grip tightened to accentuate your words “I lost you once, I cannot do this again. Please don’t make me do this again Tommy. If you leave, you might as well kill me now, and spare me such misery”

“I can’t stay” The words cut like blades through your heart and lungs, and for a moment, you can’t remember how to breathe “I’ve got to go, but I promise you, I will always be with you. I’ll never leave your side, whether you can see me or not. I will always be your husband, in this life and the next” You cannot be sure, but he seems to be holding back sobs as well “So many things went wrong. So many mistakes that cannot be fixed. What’s done cannot be undone” Those words do not seem directed to you, but rather thoughts spoken out loud, an airing of frustrations he’s kept bottled up.

You pull away from him, so fiercely not even his strength can keep you still. Your hands cup his cheeks and pull him down until his forehead is against yours. You can barely discern his features in the darkness of the bedroom, so you use your fingers to gently trace the slope of his nose, the sharpness of the jaw, the softness of his lips. His breath fans over your face; he smells all over of nature, of dirt, of open fields and pine woods. 

“There is nothing that cannot be undone. Do you hear me? Nothing. Nothing that we can’t work out together” You can barely contain your desperation “You are Thomas Shelby. You can pull down the moon if you desire; you could bend the King to your will. How can you not fix whatever troubles you?”

His hands envelop yours, fingers gently prying yours away; but instead of dropping them, he cradles them gently, bringing them up to his lips to press tender kisses against your knuckles. His lips linger against your wedding ring until the metal warms.

“Not everything is fixable, my love. There are things not even I can undo. Some mistakes are permanent. I tried, tried my whole life, but I am not God, not yet” He pulls you into his chest again, and pulls the blankets around you “But you don’t need to worry about that now. The hour is late and the sun will soon be up. You need to rest, my sweet dove. Sleep and dream; I will be with you”

You wanted to protest, to pull away, to not let him finish things like that. But you suddenly felt terribly exhausted, as if the last days had dropped on top of you with the weight of boulders, and his arms were so comforting. He gently rocked you both back and forth, a hand on the back of your head and the other on your back. The last thing you remember is Tommy murmuring sweet words of love in your ear. You cannot remember them exactly, but you fell asleep with a smile on your lips.

The next morning you awake tucked in bed, buried between pillows and blankets and wearing a clean nightgown. You sigh contently and stretch your arm to the side, towards Tommy’s side, but find it to be cold and empty, feeling something powdery between your fingers.

Your eyes shoot open, sitting so abruptly you see spots dancing in your vision. The room is bathed in sunlight, all the curtains drawn back. Outside there’s a perfect spring morning, and you hear the dogs barking and the gardeners going about their duties. Once your eyes adjust to the brightness, you discover that the powdery thing on the mattress appears to be ash, or dirt, you are not quite sure. The sheets are stained with it, and when you stand from the bed, you find a trail of residue all the way to the door. Upon inspection, you notice some of it has been left on the door handle, as if someone grabbed it with dirty hands.

The door nearly slams on your face as Frances pushes it open, carrying a breakfast tray. You both jump with a startle, but she manages to keep her wits enough to not drop the tray at your feet

“That was quite a scare you gave me there, Mrs. Shelby. But it’s wonderful to see you at last out of bed” Frances says, as she leaves the tray on a small table with two chairs “The nanny has taken the children to the stables, so you have a quiet morning ahead of you”

You reach out to pick your robe, your thoughts still filled with the encounter of the previous night. You want to ask Frances, but choose not to, not wishing to be taken as a madwoman. What would she say if you told her your dead husband had slept in your bed the previous night? So you play ignorance, and sit before the table, your stomach rumbling at the sight of buttered toast

“That’s good, but don’t let them out for too long. It ought to be quite muddy and damp outside from the storm, and I don’t want them getting sick”

Your fingers are curled around the steaming teacup when she speaks again.

“Storm? There was no storm, Mrs. Shelby. I was up quite late and the skies were clear, although it was a moonless night, so everything was quite dark”

The teacup stops midair, and a cold shiver runs down your spine, goosebumps covering your flesh. You had heard the wind, the rain, felt the rattling of the windowpanes and the water running down the pipes. Then, you notice a glint on your ring finger. A glint that was not there the night before.

You now wear two wedding bands. One the perfect size, one a few too big. And outside your window, the blackbirds begin to sing.

[tojiscumdumpster]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - READER

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

 I’m overthinking.

 I shouldn’t be but I am. 

 Remind me to never break up with you. Gosh, why would I freaking say that? Toji and I aren’t in a relationship. We agreed to get to know each other, and we have been doing that. So much. So damn well. 

 However, I fear that I may be falling for him quicker than I thought. 

 I knew this would happen. That damn Toji Fushiguro is good with his words. 

 His lips…

 His fingers…

 In just six weeks, Toji has shown me everything I’ve wanted in a partner and more.  

 I feel protected. Cared for. Desired… I can only imagine how my emotions would amplify once we have sex.

 If we do, that is. 

 Toji is very hell bent about us not sleeping together yet. And I know it has nothing to do with attraction because he pleases me in other ways.

 Phone sex. Fingering. Kissing me with such burning lust that has my pussy throbbing and aching for him. 

 I’m satisfied with his current pleasures, but I want more. 

 I’m left to believe that he doesn’t want to have sex with me because…

 He’s falling for you, too. 

 No. He can’t be. That would just be silly to think and setting myself up for failure. 

 Toji made it clear that he’s not interested in anything serious, yet here I am still being drawn to him. It seems like I can’t help myself. 

 The excitement that pumps through me when I’m around Toji is a feeling I never want to be without. 

 How does he expect me to? Not when he stands in front of me while we’re waiting to cross the street. Or how he randomly grabs on my ass or breasts like a perv to compliment me so sweetly. 

 Toji can claim he’s rough, emotionless, and drained from love, but how he is with me says otherwise. 

 Even earlier, how he placed the softest kiss on my lips to reassure my insecurities. All I remember feeling was the lightness in my soul, and heat that ran underneath my cheeks. 

 In another lifetime, I was in love with Toji Fushiguro. 

 I sound like a freaking cliché, I know. 

 But it’s true. 

 My dreams tell me, and the more I’m around him, it becomes more clear to me. 

 “Y/N, Y/N. You silly girl….” I sighed and muttered to myself, resting my forehead against the steering wheel.

 I’ve made it back to school on time with another five minutes to spare, so I’ve just been sitting in the parking lot and putting my mind through a frenzy.

 Before I forget, I pulled out my phone to text Toji:

I giggle because I can honestly see Toji doing that if he hadn’t heard from me.

Before I'm able to respond, he doubt texts me.

Am I that easy to read?

 

I smile to myself while Toji and I continue our banter through messages. I’m sure I look like a lovesick puppy right now with how I’m looking at my phone, but I don’t care.  

 Toji knows me. He really knows me, and it gives me the feeling of one hundred butterflies fluttering in my stomach. 

 And when I see him tonight, I’m not sure I can contain that feeling any longer. 

 After teaching my last class for the day, I made a beeline to Nanami’s office like he asked me to when I coincidentally saw him during lunch. Apparently he wants to talk about this teacher’s summit, and honestly, I’m going to try to find a way to back out. 

 I should chew him out for even submitting my name without my consent. Just because we’ve dated since my teaching career at the high school, and we went to the summit every year together, doesn’t mean that’s going to continue. This isn’t habitual, so it’s best for him to find a different teacher. 

 I’m sure any other teacher would love to go.

 But then again, Nanami doesn’t want any other teacher to go. 

 He wants me. And like Toji said, I shouldn’t put it past him that he simply submitted my name unknowingly just so we can be alone together for a weekend. 

 Nanami has been trying to get back with me for months. The last time we talked outside of school was the day he invited me out to brunch to try to convince me to give him another chance. With how he reacted when I suggested we could eventually be friends when I’m ready, I fear that Toji may be right. Though, I’m not here for his winning me back journey. 

 Two chances too many, so unfortunately, the Y/N and Nanami ship has sailed. As far as my concern, Toji is the only man I’m interested in.

 PRINCIPAL NANAMI KENTO. The large words engraved on the golden office door sign stares back at me. I take a deep breath before knocking to prepare myself for how this conversation is going to turn out.

 “Come in,” he answers. 

 I walked into the room to see a look that isn’t foreign to me. Disheveled blonde locks. Tight furrow between his brows. Black and gold frames hanging off his nose. Clouds sitting under his chocolate-colored eyes. And his suit jacket being off with rolled up sleeves to reveal those toned forearms. 

 He’s stressed. 

 I know he is. This is the look I saw him quite often whenever he came home from long nights after work or when I stayed waiting for him in his office. 

 Even when Nanami’s work has him all over the place, I would be lying if I said I didn’t find him most attractive like this. A man that appears to be perfect and organized sometimes has his breaking point when he falls under pressure. 

 “You wanted to see me, Principal Nanami?” It’s like hearing my voice was the only thing that managed to tear his eyes away from the computer. The furrow and concentration that was on his face relaxes and softens when looking at me. 

 Life came back into those brown hues that I used to love, and any other day, they probably would’ve made me fold.

 He clears his throat and runs his fingers through his locks. “Uhm, yes. Take a seat. It won’t be long.”

 “If it can’t? I do have somewhere to be?” Not really, however, anywhere but here will do.

 “Of course,” he responds with a nod. “The teacher summit-”

 “I don’t want to go.”

 “Why not?”

 “Because I’ve been going for the past five years. Are there no other teachers available?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

 He tilts his head, confused. “I thought you enjoyed going?”

 “Used to. Not anymore.” 

 “What changed?” 

 “Principal Nanami, is there a reason why we’re going back and forth about this?” My tone is clipped and I fist my hands in my lap. Does he not understand that the teacher summit is volunteered based? I did not volunteer myself. 

 Maybe I could understand if I offered to go, then pulled out after doing so, but that wasn’t the case.

 He folds his hand on the desk. “I’m just trying to understand what the issue is, Miss L/N.”

 “The issue is you submitting my name without asking me first. Some of us actually have life outside of work, you know?” I bit out. I realized my words were harsher than intended and a jab at Nanami. Biting down on my bottom lip, I looked away.. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to say that.”

 “No… It’s true. Maybe if I had remembered I had a life outside of work, I wouldn’t be in this position.”

 “What position is that? Being a principal?”

 “No. Losing you,” he says, way too soft for my liking.

 I knew it. The gut feeling I had when Nanami asked me to meet him in his office when I saw him at the deli restaurant was true. This has nothing to do with that damn teacher’s summit and everything to do with him seeing me with Toji. 

 Annoyance pricks my skin at the thought of Nanami wasting my time with his jealous bullshit notion that he has about my love life. So I began gathering my belongings to leave his office. “We’re not doing this. Not here. Not ever.”

 He stands up to grab my wrist, but I snatch it away. “Y/N, wait.”

 I ignored his pleas to hear him out, however, the moment I turned my back to him and touched the doorknob, his response halted my movements.

 “A student’s father, Miss L/N?”

 I don’t know what angers me more. The accusatory tone in his voice or the fact that he’s questioning me about anything that pertains to my personal life. We’re not together, let alone friends.

 Where did he find this audacity?

 “You do not ask me to come into your office as your subordinate and question me about my love life!” I snapped, using my finger to emphasize my anger. “Who I date isn’t any of your damn business.”

 He crosses his arm and quips a brow. “It is if you’re dating one of my student’s parents.”

 “Show me in the conduct book where it says teachers fraternizing with parents are not permitted?” And of course he stands there with a blank face because there’s not one fraternization rule in our teacher’s conduct handle.

 I’m very aware of the risks I’m taking while seeing Toji. We both know. And I’m not sure if he’s planning on telling Megumi about us, but if that time comes, I’m sure we’ll talk about it.

 Until then, I’ll continue to see Toji as I please and I’ll be damned if my boss, who's also my ex, tries to ever question me about it again. 

 I glared at Nanami before shaking my head. “You’re so full of shit, Ken.”

 “Why him, Y/N? He doesn't look right for you,” he says.

 I scoff. “The nerve of you to say what looks right for me considering I’m still mending pieces of a heart you broke.” Regret shows on Nanami’s face, but I finish speaking before giving him the chance to respond. “If it’s not pertaining to work or actually about the teacher’s summit, don’t utter a word to me. The offer of a friendship is off the table, too.”

 “Y/N, I’m–I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” his voice drifts off, finding words to say.

 With my hand returning to the door, I look over my shoulder to acknowledge his apology. “But you did.” Is all I say before walking out.

 Friday nights are always my favorite nights of the week. No grading papers. No parents fussing to me about why their kid is failing my class. Just me, a hot shower, and a glass of wine to keep me company. 

 For now, that is. 

 Toji should be here in a couple of minutes if work doesn’t keep him too late, and I couldn’t be more excited yet nervous to see him. 

 He said he wanted to talk about earlier and that can be taken as something good or bad. But when we messaged each other throughout the day or he called me on his break, he didn’t seem like his mood changed.

 Though, Toji Fushiguro is sometimes a hard man to read. However, if he told me not to overthink it, then I won’t. 

 Last thing I need is to be stressed about two men that’s in my life. 

 After the heated conversation I had with Nanami today, I think it’s officially time to wipe my hands of him. 

 I’ve known him for five years, and not once have I ever seen him act the way he did today. The unnecessary animosity toward Toji during lunch and his he’s not right for you comment, really struck a nerve that’s still lingering on my skin. 

 I felt myself being protective of Toji because he’s been around judgmental assholes all his life, and I'd be damned if my ex joins that list. 

 No one knows what’s best for me except me, so if I want to have Toji in my life, then that’s my decision. Certainly not Nanami’s.

 Besides, Toji has been nothing but good to me these past six weeks, and it’ll only get better from here if he allows it. I’m hoping after tonight it’ll start. 

 I know he said we were going to talk, but I’ve also decided it’s time for me to be open with my feelings. Am I in love with Toji? No. Do I want something more than casual? With him, absolutely.

 It hasn’t even been a year since my last relationship, and I genuinely meant what I said about not being ready for a new one. But leaving someone who didn’t make you happy anymore for someone who does will have you this way. 

 That’s how I feel around Toji. 

 Happy. 

 How nervous and giggly I get around that man needs to be investigated. 

 I just hope he feels the same way. And God, I hope he fucks me tonight, too. 

 It’s been months since I last had sex. Toys aren’t pleasing me as much anymore, and being around Toji doesn’t make it any better. I’ll never get over how much he turns me on. Not when I know what his fingers can do. 

 I can only imagine how his dick would feel inside of me.

 And with that being said, a knock at the door pulls me from my sexual musings.  

 I tiptoed to look through my peephole to see it’s Toji as expected and nearly ripped the door open to throw my arms around his neck, similar to how I did earlier at lunch. 

 “Hey, sweets.” His deep, raspy voice permeates goosebumps along my skin. “Your scent…”

 I leaned back to look at him, fluttering my lashes. “You like it?”

 “Always.” 

 I smiled at Toji’s response before grabbing his hand to pull him inside of my apartment and locking the door behind us. 

 While doing so, Toji snatches me back into his embrace. 

 “Think you forgot something,” he says. I’m confused until he digs his fingers into my cheeks to suck on my lips and kiss me. 

 My body relaxes into his embrace, giving me the similar feeling to when I’m at home and I pleasurably sigh. However, that quickly turns into a moan upon feeling his hand gliding down my ass to grip. 

 He fervently sucks on my tongue and pulls me closer to his body, allowing me to feel his clothed groin pressing against my lower stomach. 

 I feel bold. Horny. Eager. So I dropped a hand between us to rub on his cock, causing him to groan. 

 A small whimper escapes my mouth at his thick length, and I would do anything to have Toji down my throat and deep in my pussy. 

 “What the fuck are you doing to me, sweets?” He growls. “And you’re wearing these tiny shorts?” 

 I smirk. “Just making myself comfortable.”

 “I see that.” He pecks my mouth a few more times, then releases me to slap my butt and follow me into the living room. “Mind if I shower first? Don’t want my club musk to get on you.”

 “You still smell good to me, but yes,” I answered. “You want to watch a movie tonight? I can make us some snacks.”

 He kisses my check. “Sounds good to me. I won’t take long.” 

 “You see why I wanted to fucking punch him?” 

 After Toji got out of the shower, we sat in the living room and told each other how our day went. 

 It’s not like I intended to tell Toji about my conversation with Nanami. But considering how it happened toward the end of my work day and still bothered me, it was hard to keep from him. Especially when he reads me so well. 

 Though, seeing Toji mad on my behalf turns me on more than I expected. 

 “Punching him wouldn’t solve anything,” I said through a giggle. “And besides, I think I made my point, so there shouldn't be any more issues after today.” 

 “You’re too positive about men, sweets. If a man really wants you, he won’t stop until you’re his or in a relationship with someone else,” he explains. “Even that’s a reach. Hell, I know for me, at least.”

 I feigned a smile while raising my brows. “You don’t say?”

 He shrugs. “Just saying.” 

 “Hm, so why are you mad that he’s being persistent?”

 “Because he’s fucking with what’s m-” He stops short of his sentence to catch the word that almost slipped out. 

 Mine. He was going to say I’m his. 

 Tell me. Tell me so I can officially have a reason to reject every man that even thinks of breathing in my direction.

 Just waiting for Toji to speak has my heart pounding out my chest. And him looking away from me only has me more eager. 

 I’m patient when it comes to Toji expressing himself. I feel honored that he feels comfortable talking to me about anything. But right now, I need to hear those words coming out of his mouth. 

 For me. 

 I want to be a little selfish for once. So I straddled his lap and softly turned his face to look at me. He seems satisfied with my actions based on his hand gravitating to the small of my back, and the other being placed on my hip.

 Toji rubs small circles around my flesh, and I’m convinced it’s to ease his nerves as opposed to mine. 

 “Talk to me, big guy. Because I’m what?” I ask with tenderness. 

 “We’re supposed to be casual.”

 “We are… but… there’s nothing casual about how I feel,” I counter. Although I enjoy how his hand feels, gripping my hip, I take it to place it against my heart. “Does this feel casual to you?”

 “Y/N-”

 “And I can feel yours, too. Why are you nervous?”

 I melt a little inside seeing how a soft pink color flushes under Toji’s face that spreads to the tips of his ears. It’s almost humbling seeing him this way, letting his walls down just for me. 

 “I’m not easy,” he admits. 

 “Okay.”

 “I’m grumpy as shit, and have a shitty attitude about life.” 

 I place my hands on the sides of his neck to massage reassurance onto his flesh. “Okay.”

 “I’m possessive. Jealous. I don’t like sharing.” He continues to list off the reasons to what I’m assuming he thinks are the reasons why he wouldn’t be a good partner. 

 “I don’t want to be shared nor do I like sharing, either.”

 “I don’t do soft sex.”

 My pussy was already wet for him the moment I saw him, but hearing that he fucks roughly has my arousal leaking through my panties. 

 I look at him through my lashes, rubbing his chest. “I’m a big girl. I think I can handle it.”

 Both his hands are now on my hips, holding me tighter than before. “And what if I’m not everything you expected? Then what?”

 “You’re you, Toji,” I said. “That’s all I’m ever expecting.” And the moment I said those words, he crashed his lips onto mine to seal the deal. 

 Toji is rough with his kisses, overpowering my mouth and nipping on my lower lip until the smallest speck of blood is drawn. 

 His hands are impatient while moving desperately along my curves. One minute, teasing my breasts. The next, holding my ass to rub on his cock that’s pressed against my. 

 How he’s kissing me is different from all the other times. This is the Toji who kisses when driven by his sexual appetite. It’s almost too much to keep up with.

 I moan and whimper into his mouth, and roll my eyes back. God, I could come from this alone. 

 He tugs on my braids to pull my head back and expose my neck, which he sucks and bites around. Pleasure scatters across my body, causing my nipples to harden and pussy to further pool wetness. 

 “Toji, wait-”

 He grabs the back of my neck to force me to look at him. “Mine. You’re mine. No one else’s. Not that shitty ass ex or any other fucker that thinks he could even look your way.”

 “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Mr. Fushiguro?” I ask through a smirk. 

 “Will you?”

 Two overwhelming feelings hit me at once. A jolt of excitement in the depths of my stomach, along with wetness dripping between my thighs. 

 Six weeks. Six weeks is all it took for Toji to make me his. Even if he asked me sooner, my answer would have still been, 

  “Yes.” 

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

thirteen chapters later and they are official. you know what that means, right? it's time for a break, hehe. see y'all in a few weeks! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) ♡

[mister-qi]

Mr. Qi Friendship and Romance Mod: 4/19 Progress Update

It's a working title, I'm trying to come up with something less wordy that still will pop up in Nexus searches.

I wanted to be able to track my progress, mainly for myself, but if you're curious, this is the state of the mod right now:

Writing:

Heart Events - the 2 heart event is fully written (with blocking directions), and the 6, 8, and 10 heart events are outlined. The 4 heart cutscene currently has me a bit stumped; I have ideas, but nothing concrete yet. I definitely now understand why Sam's 4 heart cutscene is him dropping an egg. 14 hearts is on the back-burner as a little treat to myself once I get further into things.

Generic Daily Dialogues - about 1/3 done, probably the highest priority for writing. I'm leaving his vanilla casino dialogue as the two heart dialogue, and the vanilla Walnut Room dialogue as his four heart dialogue, with a few small changes. And, since it's me, I have more marriage dialogue written than anything else...

Day-Specific Dialogues - very few written, lower priority. Hoping to have a lot of these made eventually, and I have plenty of ideas, but they aren't necessary for the core of the mod so they're on the back-burner for now.

Gift Dialogues - all 5 generic gift response dialogues are written, with an additional 22 dialogue lines for specific items/groups of items. I'm also up to around item 530 in figuring out what item corresponds to which dialogue/whether or not he likes it. Certain item groups, like cooked food, still need more lines, however. This is definitely something that should be low priority, but also something I'm really enjoying working on. Some personal favorites so far are-

[if given a fish (hated)]: "Eugh, it's all slimy..."

[if given a legendary fish (disliked)]: "If you must give me one of the rarest fish in the valley, can you at least wrap it so I don't have to touch it with my bare hands?"

And I think that's pretty funny.

Art

Portraits - 3 new portraits finished: "deep frown" "glint" and "glasses-less". I'll probably be messing with "glasses-less" for a looong while; it's first shown at a dramatic moment so it needs to look good. Blushing portraits are next on the docket.

Here's "glint" btw, with a background thrown on so I can have a custom icon. You know I gotta make him do the anime glasses thing a few times.

Sprites - no progress yet. Walk cycle is up next after I finish the blushing portraits. Did you know he doesn't have a walk cycle at all? [1.6 spoilers] in the cheated Summit cutscene where he attacks(?) you, he literally just slides at you very fast. Anyways, I may also change his map sprite a bit as well, since it was drawn to match his old portrait and doesn't actually have the same color scheme as his sprites. Note to self: is it possible to make the sparkles on his outfit prismatic?

Maps - no progress yet. The 6 heart and 10 heart cutscenes both require custom maps, with the 6 heart one being a fully custom asset. 10 heart recycles some existing assets but will still need some custom stuff done as well.

Misc Sprites - in my head, there's a dream version of the 8 heart cutscene that has so, so many unique sprites. Like an incredible amount of stuff. I think it'll kick ass, but also that sequence could be done with a few lines of text. So, for now, it's low priority. But maybe in a few months I'll put out a request for help.

Implementation

Not totally sure how to split this into sections yet, as I'm very much still in the preliminary stages so far. To say that I'm feeling overwhelmed is an understatement; documentation on the wiki swings wildly between "an asset is a file in a video game" and "this is an advanced tutorial. Read these 4 other pages first before continuing."

I've started using Ms. Coriel's NPC Creator which has been good for setting up the basic file structure, but ultimately doesn't cover some of the more complex stuff I want to do. EDIT: Turns out it's completely outdated for 1.6! Had to throw out a bit of work, but I still learned from it so it's fiiine.

I think setting up his "schedule" will be a challenge, in that I don't actually want him to have a real schedule like most NPCs. Not to pull back the curtain too much here, but I want him to "exist" in both the Casino and the Walnut Room simultaneously, which is to say, he does not exist in two places at once in the narrative, just in the code. This will change after marriage, however.

My next goal is to set up placeholder cutscenes for each of the heart events, and then to implement the generic daily dialogues once those are finished.

Final Notes

God, this will be a work in progress for a while, but I'm enjoying it! Definitely enjoying the writing more than anything else, but hey, that's how it be. I've got around 70 lines of dialogue written, a bit of art done, and I've started learning how to actually get stuff in game. I've always been more of a designer than a coder, but it's getting there!

ADDITIONALLY I've decided that if I abandon this project for more than 8 months, anyone is welcome to request my work so far and use it for their own mod. If this blog hasn't posted in a long while, feel free to send me an ask or message! I may say no, however.

Ultimately, I want this mod to exist in some fashion. While there is an existing one, I have a pretty different take on the character and I want to share it with you all! Every line of dialogue, every heart event, every little detail needs to share something interesting about a character and their world. Yet, Mr. Qi is a mysterious guy, and I think some things should be left up to player interpretation. And I think it's crucial to be able to match his tone and voice to the vanilla game, while also expanding on his characterization. It's a fun challenge to write, and I hope the finished product, uh, well I hope it gets finished mostly, but I think it'll be pretty good.

Thanks for reading all this. This is largely just a stream of consciousness for myself, but I hope it's...interesting, or something?

[ym-loreposting]

The ancient Beanbean Kingdom

The Beanbean Kingdom is a kingdom that features in Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga and its remake for the 3DS, being located directly south of the Mushroom Kingdom. In the game, several hints are given as to the ancient past of this kingdom through the mentions of ancient civilizations, which I want to document in this post.

The Hoohoo Civilization

One of the first areas Mario and Luigi visit in the Beanbean Kingdom is Hoohoo Mountain in the kingdom's northwest. Among the waterfalls of this mountain sits Hoohoo Village. One of the people that live there says the following:

"Long ago, on this very mountain, the Hoohooligans developed the great Hoohoo civilization. At the summit, there still remain many mysterious remnants of this once great people."

And another one says:

"We are said to be the descendants of the people who developed the Hoohoo civilization. This land is largely populated by the Beanish peoples, but there are other races, like ours!"

It seems in the past that these Hoohooligans inhabited the entirety of Hoohoo Mountain, but their descendants confined to their village in the present. When one goes up the mountain, they indeed come across many remnants of their culture. The most notable are their Hooroglyphs, ancient letters that spell out the jokes of the civilization.

Another is the weapon Hoohooros, who functions as a boss and guards the path to the mountain summit. He is also surrounded by Hooroglyphs and can use them to fire lasers.

Lastly, there are also fiery statues on the mountain that are not explicitly tied to the civilization, but may have been made by it as they look like the people of Hoohoo Village. When doused, other statues are activated that generate small tornadoes and so may also have been made by this civilization.

Soybean Civilization

The second civilization is given less to work with. They are mentioned by an elderly resident of Beanbean Castle Town, who describes them as an advanced bean civilization from an age of flying spin-beans, tunneling mole-beans, and fast-moving dash-beans. They also had hidden treasures called Beanstones, which are jewels that can be found in modern-day Beanbean Castle Town.

The other mention of the Soybeans comes from a Toad in Little Fungitown, who says the lift that leads into the town (which is located atop tall mushrooms) was made by them:

"They say that lift was made long ago by the people of the ancient Soybean Civilization."

Given that this lift bears a crest of the Mushroom Kingdom that is shown in the Mushroom Castle and the Mushroom Kingdom embassy in Little Fungitown, it is possible that the ancient Mushroom Kingdom and the Soybean civilization used to have contact. Generally, it seems probable that the Soybeans are the predecessors of the modern Beanish people, given they inhabit the same general area.

Guffawha Ruins

At the foot of Hoohoo Mountain but outside the fields around Beanbean Castle, there sits an ancient structure called the Guffawha Ruins. Underground ruins of similar structure also extend in the western portion of Teehee Valley, a desert that sits east of the ruins in general. The Guffawha Ruins seem to have architectural elements of both the Hoohoo civilization and the Soybeans. For the Hoohoo civilization, Hooroglyphs can be found in and outside the ruins. There are also statues inside that bear resemblance to cave entrances near Hoohoo Village.

As for the Soybeans, presuming they are the ancestors of the modern Beanish, we do find some structures that resemble those of the modern Beanish in the Guffawha Ruins. The Beanish have the tendency to mark their presence with the use of smiling faces which can be seen on the rocks and door frames of the Guffawha Ruins. Furthermore, a large smiley face also adorns the outside of the ruins on the map and several statues in front of its entrance.

Given both architectural styles are present and the ruins are found on the border of Hoohoo Mountain and modern-day Beanish territories, it is likely the Guffawha Ruins were a joint effort by both ancient civilizations. It is unclear what the purpose of these ruins was, though in the present day they are the only place where Crabbie Grass, the cure for Bean Fever, grows.

Oho Civilization

The final civilization is only mentioned once and a tad indirectly. On the Oho Oasis island in the Oho Ocean in the east of Beanbean Kingdom, there are several recordings left behind by an expedition team. They were there to research to so-called Oho Civilization:

"It has been a week since our Oho Civilization Research Expedition reached this island."

On the island, two ruins of palaces can be found dedicated to the entities Firebrand and Thunderhand. During Superstar Saga, they bestow the Firebrand and Thunderhand abilities to Mario and Luigi respectively. These palaces were likely built by the Oho Civilization and were last visited 3000 years ago according to Firebrand, giving a general time frame for how long ago the Oho Civilization existed.

In and near these palaces there are also statues present. What is interesting is that smaller versions of those statues can be found underwater in the Oho Ocean and on Gwarhar Lagoon in the far southeast of the Beanbean Kingdom. This indicates the Oho Civilization spanned the entire Oho Ocean at one point and perhaps that they were an aquatic people, given sea levels were higher in the past (as Teehee Valley used to be an ocean).

Conclusion

The ancient Beanbean Kingdom was home to three separate civilization, which date back at least 3000 years ago. Whether or not they all existed at the same time is unclear, especially as the Beanish appear to be rather long-lived (the Beanish Bubbles having been alive for more than 1000 years), but their spheres of influence can be tracked in the modern day at least.

[jknerd]

Albrénean the Great Prince

Full Name: Albrénean Álvaldur

Aliases: His Majesty, The Light Elf King, Dowager Elf King

Gender: Male

Age: Immortal (Early 50s in human ages)

Species: Light Elf

Affiliations: United Regions of Forrest; Alfheim, Álvaldur family, Jordottir family (through marriage)

Occupation: Elf Great Prince of United Regions of Forrest Kingdom

Family: Frida (wife), Bambi (son), Faline (eventual daughter-in-law), Geno (grandson), Gurri (graddaughter), Nello (adoptive grandson), Mambo (adoptive grandson), Ferto (youngest grandson)

Relationships: Friar Owl (close friend), Mena (acquaintance), Ena (acquaintance)

Likes: Safety of his realm, watching his wife and son’s daily routine

Dislikes: Threats coming to his son, human slave captors, potential conflict between regions

Powers/Abilities: Speed, strength, wisdom, magic, willpower

Bambi the Elf Prince AU:

Albrénean Álvaldur is the Great Prince of Alfheim, one of the rulers of United Regions of Forrest, husband of Frida and father of Bambi the young prince. Among the royal light elf Álvaldur’s, no one has lived half so long as him. Most predecessors have died from warfare or murdered by humans, but Albrénean approached politics in peaceful manner, able to united regions into one realm.

It is mentioned that ever since the death of his parents, Albrénean had become an heir as elven council were substituting the great prince’s position until he came of age. Disliking the idea of conflict with other magical beings, Albrénean decided to take matters in his own way; spreading the petitions of Regions unification. Although, his ideas were rebuffed initially by the rulers of respective species, citizens were too tired to fight and started to sign the petition. At one point, he was injured from training and was resting in the secluded glade, but encountered Frida who didn’t recognize him as a prince and tended his wounds. Soon, the pair grew close and would spend their time in the same location practicing archery, magic and even cordially chatting. Not much later, in coming of age ceremony, it was the same day he was crowned as the Great Prince of elves. With all petitions of regions unification submitted, he was pressured with finding a wife. While he encountered many beautiful elven ladies from good family, Albrénean chose Frida. However, that means he needed to fight elven men who also asks for her hand. Fortunately, he bested them all and successfully married Frida, united both Álvaldur and Jordottir family as ruling families of Alfheim.

With the magical regions uniting into one realm, he and the founding members named it “United Regions of Forrest”, occasionally having a summit with founding rulers of respective species. At one point, he was informed that Frida was pregnant and decided to hire Ena as head maid and Mena as a nanny to the future heir. After duties, Albrénean was seen with his old friend Friar Owl observing his pregnant wife’s daily routines. Whenever Frida shown the craving of certain foods, he would soundlessly get them for her. Whenever Frida feels the physical stress and pain, he would discreetly replace her attires into comfortable ones. When Bambi was born, Albrénean was concerned of how small his son was, but relieved to hear there was no health issues. During the ceremony celebrating the birth of little prince, he watches as citizens coos and fawns over little Bambi. It was a tradition that once little prince learns to walk and talk, he needed to live separately from both parents. But, concerned over his welfare due to fragile and small height of his son, Albrénean agreed to let Frida raise their son, with Mena’s help as well.

As Bambi was a child, it has been several years since Albrénean seen his son in person; Bambi was curious of the summit meeting after playing with Faline, decided to look. When Albrénean made an appearance, all rulers and servants stood still in reverence as he walked to the court, then stopped to see his son. Seeing Bambi able to walk, speak and looking very healthy, the relieved Great Prince walked off to the royal court with other rulers for the summit meeting as Bambi asked his mother about his father. Later, at evening, Albrénean watched from the palace balcony as Friar Owl informed him of the situation in human realm; mages were hunted down (referring to Witch Hunt/Witch Trial) and religious wars leading to disease, famine and death. Albrénean expressed concern with potential human threats approaching the realm.

A tragedy struck at mid-Winter; he and his troops were alarmed by the gunshot and went to the borders, witnessing dying Frida and the human who was about to take her. He ordered his troops to surround the human, forcing the attempt captor to leave in fear. After having elven soldiers taking his wife’s body for proper burial, Albrénean looked for his son who was crying for his mother. With heavy heart, he informed his son that his mother cannot be with them anymore and led heartbroken Bambi back to palace where the funeral of his late wife took place. Feared for his son’s life after the death of Frida, Albrénean often send the guards to accompany Bambi whenever he would leave palace, even rotating the guards’ shift to protect the young prince’s quarter when he’s inside. When Bambi asked to join his father on his court affairs, Albrénean agreed to do so and took his son to the court, deciding that it would be best for the heir to learn the court duties. While impressed with Bambi’s quick adapt into new learning in fields than from books, he is seen concerned after tiring day where Bambi would sleep by himself in the young prince quarter, wishing to stay with his son but his duties prevented him from doing so. Over the time, he and his son grew very close to the point he tells Bambi stories of how he met his mother Frida. 

With Bambi growing up as beautiful prince resembling his late wife Frida, Albrénean contemplates on his son’s marital matters. He was occasionally informed by Friar Owls that Bambi is courting Faline, Ena’s daughter. Conversing with Karus’ parents the Alvida’s and Ronno’s mother Nimue, he was perceptive enough to know that Karus and Ronno weren’t actually being hostile to Bambi over Faline, but decided to believe in Bambi’s decisions once asked what he was going to do as he replied “If the boy is like me, he would know what he is doing”. When Bambi decided to spare Ronno and Karus after defeating them, Albrénean didn’t oppose to his son’ choice.

When Bambi’s coming of age ceremony took place, it was interrupted once the human lord and his troops approached their realm. Dispatching the army as Gobo was killed, Albrénean recognized the human lord was the same one who killed Frida, and was alarmed that human lord demands for Bambi. Noticing the smoke from his gun, the Great Prince knew the man has injured his son and chose to fight him. Just as Bambi spotted them after leading his people to escape, Albrénean’s spear was broken and was cornered, but before the human lord would kill the elf ruler, the Great Prince witnessed the arrow hit the corrupt man through his eye and saw Bambi stood from far up the hill holding the bow. With the human lord’s fate left in hands of his own consequences, Bambi and his friends helped Albrénean to leave the area, watching the fall of human troops and surrendered to his son.

With Bambi assisting him in restoring the United Regions of Forrest, Albrénean the Great Prince was finally able to entrust his son into court affairs more. With his heir’s leg recovered fully and returning from Frida’s grave, it was one of few moments Albrénean had shown fatherly side silently opened his arms to his son, who, in relieved tears to see his father healthy, rushed into his comforting embrace. According to Friar Owl, it was first time he had ever seen the Great Prince shed tears.

Spin-Off “Perri and Annerle” AU:

Albrénean appears in the coronation of Bambi, crowning his son as next Great Prince of Elves. The former Great Prince was labeled as Dowager Great Prince, enjoying his role as grandfather to Bambi and Faline’s children. He watched with smile whenever Geno and Gurri was well-fed and playing with Thumper’s daughters or Flower’s son Bambi II. 

When Perri took her human friend Annerle to the palace in Alfheim, Albrénean was surprised to see the young human girl who is able to understand the elven languages, but find no threat from her and willing to let her stay or visit the realm as long as she kept its existence as secret. When Bambi asked Annerle about her world’s conception with love and marriage, Albrénean watched with mild amusement when his question flummoxed Karus, Ronno, Perri and Porro, knowing the intention of his son’s inquiry.

Much later, noticing forlorn and grieving Annerle being comforted by Bambi, Albrénean smiled fondly and in nostalgia of how his son reminds him of his late wife Frida, due to Bambi’s perceptive yet nurturing nature. After Perri’s marriage with Porro, Albrénean was approached by his son and daughter-in-law Faline. Both wondered if he would be thinking of remarriage as they were concerned of the Dowager Great Prince’s life without new spouse. Albrénean simply replied that love may come and go, but for now, he is happy to be a grandfather of sweet grandchildren.

[zombiee-reviews]

Rogio character discussion / breakdown.

• The coward • The asshole • The useless

If you can’t tell, I’m having fun with these lmao.

WARNING! THIS DOC CONTAINS LOTS OF INFORMATION AND WALL TEXT BECAUSE ROGIO IS REALLY THAT SHITTY LMAO.

So after doing a discussion with Ranach, my next victim is going to be Rogio.

Rogio is rather an easy character to breakdown, considering his actions is a huge contradiction to what Kique has his personality set too in the wiki.

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What I will be going over:

• What we know of Rogio’s early life

• Why I feel he is just a shit character

• His friends with benefi- I mean, relationship with Roamer.

• How he is a huge self insert of Kique

• His weird on and off trauma(s)

• His wiki personality is one thing, but the comic shows another.

( Topics are in no particular order, my brain likes to splatter information everywhere lmao. )

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So first, I am going to start with what we know of Rogio’s early life. Unfortunately, Rogio doesn’t really talk much about his early life, before MT. What we are told is he was once in a tribe named Snowcap Tribe and they once lived on the Meteor Summit. Rogio also mentions how someone angered a spirit up there and the spirit completely wiped out everyone. Obviously, later in the comic, his brother Iberon survived and was the cause of the spirit destroying the Tribe, but Rogio does not know this.

It is interesting to me how none of these comic characters talk about their backstory, but in Rogio’s case, he only brings up bad things in his backstory so everyone feels bad for him.

Why does Rogio never talk about his brother? His family? His traumatic experiences? You would think we would have some moments of Rogio confiding in Roamer and talking over the events that happened. It would have been good leverage to use his night beast form as past traumas he hasn’t gotten over. Personally, I feel like Kique didn’t come up with Rogio having a sibling that is alive until he made Ranach visit SS. Because this validates Ranach yoinking everyone in SS, because Iberon reminds him so much of Rogio. Ranach even puts two and two together that this COULD be Rogio’s brother. But as readers, we never see a scene where Rogio EVER talks about his sibling(s), or his past. And quite frankly it bothers me? The characters just feel like robots with no backstory, morals, or humanity / humility. They are just puppets to whatever Kique feels like having them do - in MT’s case, puppets to Rogio.

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Let’s be honest, Rogio is by far the worst character in Home. Kique likes to label this guy as one of his best characters and will literally protect / defend him at all costs. WHY? I don’t know, maybe it’s because Rogio is a literal carbon copy of Kique in the comic.

It becomes obvious that Rogio is a self insert of Kique when Roamer and Rogio return to MT, after leaving Midnightgarde.

Roamer has a falling out with Kargo and we are shown nosy - ass Rogio listening in. We are then shown that Rogio is battling his own demons and pretty much forcing Roamer to cater to him because he wants to return to MT with Roamer. Kind of funny how Roamer doesn’t ask Rogio why tf he was listening to a private conversation… But anyway.

Even though Roamer and Kargo literally just broke up, Rogio thinks it’s a great idea to back stab his long time friend Kargo and sleep with his ex. How trustworthy Rogio is. I mean hell, Rogio makes the first move on Roamer. And then in a co-dependent manner, Rogio is suddenly healed from his demons, after sleeping with Roamer that night. Even Roamers face shows this “Oh god, Kique is going to use me as NSFW content with this dweeb in the future.” Lmao.

Also Rogio says he didn’t join the Tribe by choice, but he could have left by choice. Rogio had the luxury of leaving the walls when he wanted too, he could have easily just took off one day. He wasn’t that trapped. -_-

One thing I find funny on Rogio returning to MT, was he KNEW there was a possibility that Ranach was still there. So obviously, Kargo was right when he told Roamer that he returned to MT to sleep with Ranach once again. Of course, this is quickly covered up. But it’s obvious to me that Rogio was willing to see Ranach once more and then later in the comic acted like seeing Ranach again would be the end of his world. THEN WHY DID YOU RETURN TO MT IDIOT??

If Ranach terrified / traumatized you SO MUCH, why would you return to MT knowing there was a chance he’d be there, or knowing there was a chance Ranach would return? Didn’t factor that one in, huh buddy?

After reading the documents Staz put out on how Kique was in their relationship, Rogio describes Kique to a damn T. It would also make sense why all the main characters oogle over him, or ask for his advice even tho it’s out of place. Rogio IS Kique.

I mean hell, I absolutely HATE that the MT females don’t gut Rogio for not doing squat for them while he was in MT. When Rogio does return to MT I hate when I see Inna say “We’re glad to have you back Rogio!” GIRL WHAT. This pile of dog crap didn’t bother to save anybody, he had a chance to rebel with Kargo the first time and didn’t do anything! He was too busy banging Ranach and trying to raise his own position in MT as a Baron WITH Ranach. Realistically, NOBODY should be happy to see him!

Oh and let’s not forget Ronja giving him special privileges to call her by her actual name. And then suddenly making him Baron of MT, even though he hasn’t proved his skills to her. Ronjas stupid as well for just giving that much responsibility / status to someone SHE BARELY KNOWS. But it’s ✨ ROGIO ✨

Then came the time when Rogio was completely useless to his rank as a Baron. He’d let everyone go do the work for him when it came time to rid of Ranach and Avanti. He always used the excuse of not wanting to see Ranach, because Ranach was his “abuser”. The goofy thing about this is, Rogio was completely accepting of seeing Ranach again when he was coming back from Midnightgarde.. Also, why would you return to the very place your abuser lives? Why did you come back to MT knowing Ranach would still be around? It’s all dumb writing to me. I understand why Roamer returned, but Rogio could have very easily went his own way and start his own life.

Then another contradiction that Rogio creates for himself, is when he is in the healer hut saying “If anyone had a problem with it, they would have voiced their concern at the meeting.” But when Vigr asks Rogio to use himself to lure Ranach into a trap, Rogio suddenly throws a fit like a child and suffers from a “PTSD” attack. Again, idk why you would want to torment yourself so badly and come back to a place where your abuser is still around. Don’t make sense to me!!

But because Rogio was absolutely useless in the fight against Avanti and decided to not be apart of it, MT lost two members! Fuss and Jonna! Bro, you’re a Baron, a second in command, you don’t get to just kick your feet up. If you felt you weren’t ready to be a Baron, then why the hell did you accept it anyway? You could have easily told Ronja NO, I don’t want to be a Baron, I can’t handle that much responsibility right now. But because Rogio wasn’t there and his help could have potentially saved Fuss and Jonna, we lose them.

I mean shit, Fuss had more of a reason to stay behind, for his daughter! But he went anyway. Then we have lame ass Rogio who doesn’t want to sEe HiS aBuSeR. Even tho he has an entire tribe to protect him from Ranach!

Then came the time when Ranach was attacking the wall with Avanti. I just LOVE that Ronja says “You are the second strongest to Kargo go protect the cave entrance!” Basically saying “Just go run away and be useless!” If Rogio is the second strongest, why is he off diddling in a cave while everyone else has to go face Oreo dog? Oh that’s right! Plot armor! And Kiques way of further dragging the story of Ranach not knowing Rogio is alive yet! And yet furthering my reasons of why Rogio is fucking useless at everything. I mean he needed help from a pup to “kill” Avanti.

Then of course, when Rogio plays this game of ignoring Roamer and goes with Ronja to Tinget. What an asshole. I mean look at the face he is giving Roamer before he leaves??? Not only this, but Ronja ain’t the smartest of the bunch, because anyone can see that her tribe member is not himself, but sure buddy! Show me the way with just us two alone to Tinget! I mean hell, the comic doesn’t really show a relationship / friendship with Ronja or Rogio. Ronja is forced to like Rogio and act like she knows anything about him from Kique, because he is with her family member, Roamer. I mean she can at least see that Rogio is being a bit of a dick to Roamer, but she somehow doesn’t stand up against Rogio and defend her family member. She’s definitely got that minding her own business down lol.

Going to fast forward to the time when Ronja and Rogio are seen after Tinget. They are camping and Rogio miraculously knows that Fjall is spooking at something else other than a night beast. Rogio completely goes feral on this strange dog spying on them. But what would make me uncomfortable in Ronjas position is she had to really put some force in her voice to get Rogio to stop threatening him. Giiirl, that would make me nervous, because you’re alone with ROGIO lmao.

Later, Rogio and Ronja return to MT and Rogio attempts to run off, but cowers out. Heh, wuss. I don’t understand why he didn’t just do it while she was asleep, but to wait last minute while you’re on the border of MT. It just makes it easier for everyone to follow your scent?? IDK.

Once Rogio is in the void with Kargo after fighting his night beast form, the whole scene that follows once they leave is total bullshit. The whole “A punch long overdue.” From Kargo is so wrong in so many ways, if anything, ROGIO deserves that punch from Kargo. Rogio has been nothing but a dickwad to everyone since day one, he damn near isn’t redeemable either. But Kique thinks because Rogio saves Kargo and kills his night beast, it clears anything Rogio has done in the past.

When Kargo says “I have brought so much pain into his life” I think Kique meant for Rogio to say that. I mean Rogio was the biggest asshole to Roamer?? Only thing Kargo has done was just get upset with him over Ferah, and leave him, other than that I haven’t really seen Kargo be a dick to Roamer like Rogio. I mean hell, at least Kargo COMMUNICATES, even if it is when he gets angry.

And what follows after is just sad. I hate how out of character Kique writes Kargo just to benefit Rogio. But I am happy to see the lions wacking Rogio around lmao.

It wasn’t obvious in the beginning, but after finding out Rogio suggests a poly relationship to Roamer, it then becomes obvious Kique planned this shit. He planned a polyship and the three of them to have a child as well, which would be Diarko. Which is dumb as hell, considering his mother is actually alive. But Kique writes her as a mother lacking any maternity instincts, cause she just leaves him with MT? It becomes clear to me that the MT storyline is actually all about Rogio and whatever orbits around him.

Then as they return to MT, suddenly Kargo and Rogio become the best of friends. Okay I get it, Rogio saved him. But honestly, it looks like Kargo didn’t want to be saved. And besides that, Rogio and Kargo had no chemistry together. Just because Kargo dies and Rogio brings him back to life does not undo anything?? Kargo should really be like, okay thanks for bringing me back to life, buh bye dude.

Then Galti, Alva and Javo leave and they have this whole conversation that Ranach may return. Which he potentially could. Obviously brainless Rogio didn’t think this through. Sure bringing back Kargo is cool and all, but it ups the risks once more and puts MT in danger again. But Kique wants us to love Rogio because he brought Kargo back, not even factoring in the risks! What a smart guy!

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Now I’ll be going over his weird / abusive af relationship that he has with Roamer.

When Roamer returns from Midnightgarde after giving Ferah and Kargo a thoughtful farewell. Roamer approaches Rogio and gives this whole speech about how the irbloss are the ones that wanted Roamer to see Rogio. WROOONG. Rogio was suppose to die that night, according to others who had script privileges, or heard it from word of mouth from Kique. Yes, that’s right people, Rogio was suppose to die after Ranach sacrificed him. But for some odd reason, Kique chose this wonderful dog to implement himself into. :-)

What also strikes me weird, is how Roamer was shy with Kargo but not with Rogio. Especially after their breakup. I perceived Roamer as shy with Kargo because a MxM relationship was brand new to him and he was figuring himself out. But when it came to Rogio, suddenly that shyness disappeared and he became the more “dominant” one, all in the course of a few days.

Then, Rogio gives this bullshit speech to Roamer about how he feels this relationship is right and he gets a sense of freedom being with him. I’m sorry, but seeing how Rogio treats Roamer in the future, I take this as love bombing and manipulation from Rogio.

Oh also, I hate how Roamer acts like he knows everything about Rogio when he confronts Kargo. “You have no right to talk like you know either of them.” Roamer???? Kargo literally spent years with Rogio in MT and you really want to tell him that?? You’ve only known Rogio for a few days?? Oh! That’s right. This scene is Kique trying to convince his audience that Kargo is the problem, not Rogio. But it’s absolutely hilarious how Roamer goes on the defensive with Kargo over Rogio, like he’s known Rogio his whole life. GET OUT OF HERE BOI.

I also hate how rushed their relationship is. Once Roamer returns from Midnightgarde, they have this forced chemistry about them. It’s almost like they’ve been together for quite a long time, but factoring the pacing, it’s only been a few days?? A week? I mean right from the get go, Rogio is already trying to bang Roamer, when he returns from saying goodbye to Ferah and Kargo.. And also when they wake up the next morning, this behavior is a damn red flag for me?

Also, why the hell did Roamer fail to tell Ronja he returned first? Oh yeah, cause poor Rogipoo needed Roamer to fend off his demons that he should PROBABLY deal with on his own. But Kique made Roamer the one that deals with all of Rogio’s problems.

Also Ronja acting like she knows Rogio, AT ALL. “And Rogio deserves someone like you, after everything he’s been through.” I mean all of chapter nine is pretty much about coddling up to Rogio, even tho Roamer and Ronja don’t know jack shit about him. UGH.

Then of course, Rogio keeping secrets. Roamer had to find out about Rogio and Ranachs relationship, instead of Rogio just telling him. Idk why it was an issue? But if Rogio felt such strong feelings for Roamer, why does he feel the need to not confide in him about something like that, but instead hide it. Then of course, more coddling Rogio over Ranach, even tho Ranach was never shown to abuse Rogio lmfao.

Also why tf was Rogio and Roamer making out like that in front of everyone when Kargo and Ferah are at the gate? There is a literal child right there you freaking creeps.

Then of course, poor Rogipoo couldn’t sleep when Kargo returned, so Roamer is like ITS OKAY BUDDY! I’ll do all of your chores! Go back to sleep!! Damn, I wish I could have someone do my chores because I couldn’t sleep lmfao. Bastard didn’t even say thank you to Roamer lol.

And of course Roamer trying to protect Rogio from Kargo once more. “Do you think he’s proud of the things he’s done?” Girl, I haven’t once seen Rogio take accountability or talk about past things, unless it involved pitying Rogio. It was always poor Rogio! Never, screw Rogio for leaving the MT females to be raped, while he was trying to raise his position in MT and didn’t seem BOTHERED about trying to change anything. Yeah, screw you man.

Then, my all time favorite scene with Kargo whooping Rogio’s ass, rightfully. Everything Kargo says is completely the truth about Rogio. But of course, Kique handles this as Kargo being the asshole and this is suppose to be some half ass redemption arc for Rogio and somehow we’re suppose to feel bad for him here. I mean cmon man, Kargo has the right to be pissed off at Rogio. He literally crept in and immediately started pulling moves on Roamer, DAYS after their break up!

And before Roamer even came into the picture, when Rogio and Kargo were in old MT together. It’s APPARENT that Rogio has backstabbed Kargo before and ( “You turned your back on me the day our bond mattered the most.” ) then did it again when Roamer left him. So why the fuck would any of us feel bad for Rogio here? I think I can speak for all of us logical readers here, we all side with Kargo, Kique.

I also hate that part when Rogio was telling Kargo “We needed each other.” NEEDED WHAT EXACTLY?! A bang buddy?!

And then Kargo asking Rogio if he loves Roamer. OF COURSE HE DOESNT! He is just using Roamer as a bang buddy! Bro literally couldn’t contain himself in front of a CHILD.

Aaaaah, now comes the juicy bits of their relationship. Rogio becomes the victim of his own self pity and decides to stone wall Roamer, because that’s TOTALLY something you should do in a healthy relationship. He does this QUITE a bit with Roamer, later in the comic.

But! You did hit the nail on the head by saying you can’t do anything as a Baron, so that’s why you’ve stepped down. Good job in that self reflection Rogio!

And of course the nightmares return and what does freaking Roamer do? Tries to bang him. Like??? Yall see this? It’s pretty sad that Roamer thinks sex is the way to comfort / get too Rogio. Because when it comes to touchy subjects like that, sex is the answer for him. Not talking it out, I guess. Because guess what! Rogio shoves Roamer off and ignores him! More stonewalling! Guess that didn’t work, Roamer!

Even when Rogio returns from the Tinget meeting, we have even more stonewalling! In typical Rogio fashion, he’s always giving them sad eyes and walking off. You’re pathetic man.

Then to nobodies surprise, chapter 12 begins with pathetic ass Rogio’s nightmares again. Of course, he walks out. Roamer attempts to comfort him and ask him to talk about what he dreamt about, nothing wrong here as Roamer is trying to support / comfort Rogio. But of course Rogio avoids anything Roamer tells him. I mean Roamer is in tears, pushing aside everything and asking him to love and touch him. But then AGAIN, Rogio walks tf out and leaves him alone to cry about it. Here’s a trophy for biggest asshole of this story, Rogio.

As the stonewalling progresses, it then manifests into Rogio trying to sneak out without telling anyone. At least be courteous and TELL SOMEONE. It’s really not that fucking hard to communicate to someone and say “Hey I need my space! So I am leaving for a little bit.” But of course Rogio wants to draw attention on himself and have the whole Tribe worry about him and possibly go search for him. This could have possibly caused more unnecessary deaths, but thankfully Roamer was able to stop him… With sex. Not sure how you can be in love with someone who just wants to bang you, stone wall you and be an absolute ass to you. Rogio is a walking red flag, Roamer lol.

-

Now my final thing will be Rogio’s weird plot convenient traumas.

Obviously, we’re all aware of Rogio fighting his night beast form and once he comes across the spirit that sends him to the void to fight the night beast, we see more trauma in the sky above him. Except these aren’t any traumas, it’s kind of funny how it’s mostly about Kargo calling out Rogio’s shitty ass behavior, but apparently this is traumatic for Rogio. Well, don’t be an asshole???

And then came the time recently when Rogio suggested that MT can move to his old tribes territory. May I remind you that this is his family’s graveyard? And the territory had a spirit absolutely ravage the whole area, killing the tribe? One would think Rogio would be traumatized from this, but guess what? HE ISNT. Nope! The words of his old families territory rings nothing in Rogio’s empty head. But the poor sop can’t even face Ranach with a whole tribe standing behind him.

I think it’s another dick move for Rogio to not mention anything to Ronja or the tribe about what happened in his old territory. Kique, buddy, you try so hard to make this asshat look good, but end up short every time. You will never change my mind on how I feel about Rogio. SORRY CHUMP.

-

Also all of Rogio’s positive personality traits are all bullshit lol. That trustworthy, loyal and courageous one made me laugh LOUDLY.

-

Notes:

Tbh I had to cut some things out and focus mainly on Rogio’s behaviors, so I may have missed some things. The conclusion of this is to show people and potentially show die hard fans of Home that Rogio really isn’t that great. Kique tries to shine him under a bright light, but he just ends up making a fool out of Rogio.

Rogio should have died the night Kique said he would.

-

Also apologies for this taking so long! Rogio is the worst mess in this comic, as you read.

[elendsessor]

i’m still pretty disappointed in the lack of changes made to coc since it really wasn’t as bad as people made it out to be. mostly on an exposition level, since nocturne and 4 had a lot of exposition dumps but at least played around with camera angles and setting for them which 5 really should’ve done.

but something i don’t see talked about enough that coc not only excelled at but really should’ve been expanded upon was the moral aspect. by that i mean the ideas presented at the pandemoniac summit since ngl the cutscenes for it were really well done. it’s also super interesting on the level of reconteztualizing pros and cons based on decisions and other events, such as the demon invasion thing.

-you let humanity defend for itself without gods and though they have more than enough resources to potentially prevail and they’ll likely not have to worry about being taken advantage of by higher powers, they’re still frail in comparison.

-the law ending is definitely considered the best one and is definitely good but it’s also really flawed. letting one god rule would end plenty of fighting and usher in peace, but the issue (which desu overclocked in particular illustrated really well) is maintaining purity. god did die, and he is the dude who makes the final judgement calls, not the angels, but in his absence, the angels call the shots which can go terribly wrong. heck, even in the bible itself, the angels did act out and do have some selfish intentions depending on the story/are pretty fucking discriminatory even amongst one another. they can and will be pick-and-choose about who’s worthy of living and who isn’t. having a crisis of faith and a bunch of religious insecurities isn’t fun at all, so while everyone would technically be happier, they’d constantly be walking on eggshells. (also judging by what happens in chiyoda they’d be fucjing s t r u g g l i n g if everyone got attacked by demons.)

-having multiple gods rule allows for greater diversity, inclusion, and much greater protection. the issue with only one god that’s shown really well is that if they die and nobody can take their place, everyone’s fucked. this does help with maintaining humanity’s freedom, but this also means religious conflict will stay, and knowing how hellish it can get, it’s gonna get kinda nasty. this also means potentially more nahobino fights.

-tne is more of the same as neutral’s issue with the added problem of breaking the cycle means you only have one shot to make shit work. once it’s over, it’s over. it could be better than it was, it could be worse. tne itself shows how miserable it is because it’s just. everything keeps going and one day it’ll stop. there not being a cycle means there’s a loss in purpose for certain aspects of life. there’s at least a hope in a death and reincarnation loop that a life can forever impact others. no cycle means reaffirming the shitty doomer attitude of “we all die eventually so life’s pointless and we shouldn’t care” because yeah it wouldn’t be far from the truth.

it’s also just interesting because tne and a lot of the writing does emphasize that like it or not demons existing isn’t entirely good or bad and is in a lot of ways necessary. megaten has definitely been shifting more towards showing the relationship between humans and demons outside of just the spin offs (aka this is part of why devil summoner is peak), and since demons come from humans one way or another, they are natural and again morally grey in that regard. the pandemoniac summit scenes and many of the subquests help illustrate that messy relationship and i think by focusing on more than just waring factions and more demons as a whole is something that should’ve been expanded upon especially because of 5/5v’s themes of relationships.

i love what was done with cov but i do wish we saw more of those conflicting ideas. the law and chaos binary is well executed but it does lack some of the potential depth it can have without the context given by coc, and since coc has a poor reputation, chances are most people who end up playing vengeance will only play the new story path. both do compliment one another and serve to contextualize events, so to get the best understanding of cov’s plot, you’d have to be familiar with coc’s.

also just in general not having the usual “law is bad because we’ll all be drones chaos is bad because we’ll only focus on killing neutral better because humanity” is super nice ok i’m glad cov didn’t go down that route but i also wanna see more of the ups and downs dammit.

[the-way-astray]

alright shannon, the neverseen's plan once again makes no fucking sense and relies way too much on plot convenience rather than actual planning!

the ogre peace summit only happened because sophie and co flooded ravagog and the ogres lost, which the neverseen weren't planning on having happen. they planned for sophie and co to try to break in to steal the "cure" (actually the plague) and release it on the gnomes living in the lost cities, but they weren't planning for them to actually succeed at getting away (shown by fintan and brant trapping them and planning to take them to their hideout)

gethen got captured before this had even become a thing, meaning there was never any guarantee that there would be a peace summit during which he could escape and humiliate the council

once again, nobody would tell gethen that there was even going to be a peace summit. he realistically would not even know that that's a thing that is happening. and peace summits aren't planned events. they only happen whenever a treaty needs to be brokered. so there is no way he would've known when it was happening, or that it was happening at all. and he's not telepathically gifted enough to transmit long distances, because he's not sophie

all this to say, the neverseen's plan seems cool and smart, but once again, shannon relies way too much on plot convenience and further examination shows that it makes no fucking sense

[eclec-tech]

Uh-oh. Time for an unsettling prediction...

They pulled out the stops with this image, and it's not good.

We are shown Omega sitting in wide-eyed innocence in her little room on the ship. She is unarmed, with a doll on her lap and a ball nearby, propped up on the cushioning Wrecker installed for her comfort. This is her safe and happy life on the Marauder, and it is very likely the opposite of what the writers have planned for her.

If you think those dark circles under Hunter's eyes are bad now, just imagine how he will look once the Empire has Omega.

I have a guess for the last two episodes of the season. I think taking Omega will be the last straw in The Bad Batch's relative passivity toward engaging the Empire, and EVERYONE will be part of the mission to get her back. Getting to "The Summit" of Mount Tantiss to rescue her (and possibly Nala Se) might just be the "Plan 99" we are all wondering about.

[devilsrecreation]

More previous gen oc’s cuz I love lore and worldbuilding

Kujivunia(brag)-Makuu’s lovely mother and a good friend of Pua; A great fighter and an even better mom, she doted on her little Makuu til her death and didn’t care what anyone said. Crocodiles usually tend to avoid spoiling their young and prefer to give them tough love. Too bad Kujivunia wasn’t a very good listener cuz she spoiled him like hell, bragging about how proud she was of him (which definitely added to his ego). Don’t be fooled though, she DID draw the line at certain things and whenever Makuu did something stupid, she gave him a glare that would make even him back down. Although very sarcastic (which no one was safe from), she still had a good heart and very much respected the circle of life. Makuu gets his fighting skills, stubbornness, and good heart from her.

She was adamant that Makuu would be the next leader, even telling him that before she died (idk how yet cuz I’m the worst at timelines). Makuu promised to, in her words, “be the leader you’re destined to be”. After a long talk with Pua, Makuu remembered what he had promised his mother and from that point changed his ways so he could make her proud.

She also has this weird tendency to unintentionally predict the future:

-She kept saying how Makuu was going to be the next leader and he did

-Piga argued how Kiburi was going to be the leader and at one point, she said something like “Keep talking like that and they’ll challenge each other in a Mashindano”—yeah, about that…

-She kept telling Makuu to watch out for traps once he became leader. Now that the Savannah Summit happened, it makes sense

-“Pua respecting the Circle of Life? What’s next, a Lion Guard with one lion?”—Guess what happened?

AND THOSE ARE JUST A FEW EXAMPLES. The others think it’s stupid at the moment but years later, they’re like “holy shit”

Mamba (crocodile)-Pua’s predecessor; The cocky, merciless former leader of the crocodiles who believed the world was a hate-filled place and fighting was the only way to survive. Unlike his successors, he cared nothing for his float and blamed any losses on the world and the Circle of Life. Pua eventually got sick of his leader’s poor choices and mustered up all his courage to challenge him to a Mashindano, which he won. Although arrogant, Pua was still a better leader than Mamba ever was

I love to think that the crocodile leader eventually getting overthrown by an arrogant member is an ongoing cycle, no matter how strong the current leader is. Whether they humble themselves or not is a different story (although it seems Pua may have started that trend lol)

Karimu (kind) and Kicheko (laughter)-Chungu’s parents; I’ve mentioned them in my “Kifamilia Means Family” idea where they talk to Chungu near the end. Not much is known about them due to Chungu being a baby when they died, but they were shown to be generous and loyal as their main concern was for Chungu. Chungu inherited his father’s silliness and love for food, as well as his mother’s cluelessness

Furahia (frown upon) and Nidhamu (discipline)-Reirei’s parents; When thinking about how Reirei was raised, I like to think they did everything right “Jackal-wise”, meaning they fed her well, prioritized her and her siblings, and taught her everything she knows. Personality/morality-wise…….ehhhhhh not so much. Furahia’s a very strict, stern, and uptight mother who never seemed to be satisfied with anything Reirei did. No matter how hard she tried, she was never good enough in her mother’s eyes. Nidhamu was no better, as he was controlling and a perfectionist who would get annoyed over the slightest thing going wrong. He lets out a single bark to keep his pups in order, which is shown to still work on Reirei when they run into each other at some point.

Neither of them approved of Goigoi. They thought he was pathetic and tried to forbid Reirei to stop playing with him, claiming he’d only be a distraction. Against her parents’ expectations, Reirei ran away to start a new life with Goigoi.

Mpenzi (darling)-Goigoi’s mama; Unlike her son, she was very hardworking and intelligent for her kind. Goigoi was her baby boy and she coddled him to no end, believing he could do no wrong. Fortunately, she did teach him to treat his loved ones with the same love he gets, which is why he dotes on Reirei so much. She had the same slight accent Goigoi has

I don’t have any lore for Jasiri and Madoa YET, but what I CAN tell you is that her mother’s name was Athiri, meaning “attentive” or “influence”