#only zen can tell me to take care of myself

[watsittoyah]

The Devil's Playpen

A Obsessive!QIMIR X BLACK!FEMALE OC STAR WARS SMUT FIC

This is complete fiction, I do not own any characters of the star wars franchise however I own all characters of my own creation, as well as plot.

That being said, the themes will be dark, Qimir will have obsessive and possessive qualities. This story will be borderline grey morals, there will be trigger warnings in the beginning of every chapter that will be gruesome/sexual.

You’ve been warned little flower if you’d like to continue, please read forward, if not put this work of fiction down and go read the holy word…welcome to the Devils playpen…

Chapter 2) Fear Is Only A Four Letter Word

(Song: All Mine By Plaza)

Warning: Mutual masturbation, Mentions of suicide, Rough oral sex (male receiving), Self pleasure, back door eating (HE EATING GOOD TONIGHT LADIES!)

Previous

I can feel my mothers tears on my face as she hugs me.

“Mother I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-” I smell her burning flesh instantly and I want to vomit. When her now lifeless body falls against me, I see the figure who took her from me.

The figure was always Zen, but this time it’s…

“Qimir.” I wake up with a jolt and I’m no longer tied up in ropes. Instead I’m in a bed under a soft quilt.

I mentally curse my body because that means Qimir had to had touch me to get me into this bed.

A missed kill opportunity.

I go to get up, but I pause because I feel eyes on me.

I think fast about a weapon and he must’ve known what I was thinking because he says something that makes my skin crawl.

“You know looking for weapons won’t help you. I can always take it from you.” I cut my eyes at him. “So you want to come close to me or should I just come to you? Because the moment I get a weapon I’m going to-” He raises his hand to me and I become lifted in the air.

My throat is now in his hand and he looks me deep into my eyes. “Such a deadly little flower.” I can’t move. I can barely move my fingers and toes.

Of course he’s a force user.

“I hate you.” I hiss at him. “You hate me now, but you’ll learn to think otherwise, little flower…you know you talk in your sleep. Did your mother-”

“DON’T TALK ABOUT HER! SHUT UP!” I scream as I try to force my body to move. He looks at me with a smile crawling across his lips.

“You see you have this…” He squeezes my throat tighter, cutting off my air a bit. “…look in your eyes. It says you want to murder me. But that’s going to be difficult since I have the upper hand here.”

I start to feel my left side and before he can notice I bring my hand up and rake my nails across his face. He drops me instantly and I take a deep breathe.

I then take off running.

I’ll kill him and then I’ll get out of here.

First I need to find an exit, then maybe I can lure him out and then handle him.

I take a left and I can smell him not too far behind me.

He’s fucking gaining on me.

I take a right and halt around a corner. I press myself firmly against the wall and listen out for him. “You can’t run far, Akasha. I won’t let you leave this place. You’re not leaving me….” I heard him say as he stalks down the hall looking for me.

Once the coast is clear I take off down the hall in the opposite direction. I feel cold air drifting in from a room so I run inside and I see the light from outside.

I run faster and just when I feel like I have my freedom…

…I see that we’re on a high cliff.

I stop short and I see nothing but rocks and water as far as I could see. My legs give up from under me and I fall to my knees. I don’t even care that they’ll bruise.

I…I can’t stay here. I need to escape, I need to get my freedom back.

Before I know it, I’m walking down the halls, thinking about what I can do. How I can get off this fucking island.

How do I get this crazy son of a bitch to let me go?

You play the role he wants, tell him all he needs to hear and when the coast is clear, find a safe exit and slit his throat from ear to ear.

I smile to myself as I walk back to the bedroom and I make sure I play my roll well.

Don’t give in too easily, he will be suspicious. Be the cat in this mouse trap, Akasha.

I kneel in the middle of the room with my eyes closed listening for his panicked footsteps. His scent makes it to me before his presence does. I then hear him enter the room and I remain still.

“Look at my little flower, rooted where she belongs.” He says standing in front of me. I open my eyes and look at him, pretending I’m bored.

“Oh, you’re back?” He narrows his eyes at me and he grabs me by my upper arm. “Ouch!” I fake to him. He seems to like my plea because he squeezes harder. “I need to show you something. But you need to promise me you won’t try to run off again. Because if you do, I will leave you with a permanent scar on this intoxicating body of yours.” He says as he drags me off.

I give just enough resistance to make him think I’m going to fight him, but I follow along side him.

••••

Once we’re outside, I take in my surroundings and Qimir’s grip on my arm loosens but only by a fraction. “I am going to teach you how to concur your fear. But first you must address it.”

He lets me go and while he keeps his eyes on me, he goes into a bag that was outside and he pulls out a different light saber. I take a step back from him and he stands in front of me.

He points the handle my direction, motioning me to take it. But I don’t move a muscle. “Akasha, take it.” I shake my head. “No.” I tell him, not looking away from the light saber.

Suddenly I’m back into the bad place. I’m watching as the Jedi slaughter everyone and I’m trying my best to help mother escape.

Children’s lives were being snuffed out. Men are being brought to their knees. The few women we had left…all begging for mercy.

And what breaks my people apart is the slash and stabs of light sabers brought on by monsters who say they are the good guys.

When I blink, I’m not there. I have to remind myself that I am in the present and that I can’t get hurt. I live on for my people. I live on so I can get revenge for them.

Qimir, takes the Saber and puts it in my hand but I jerk away and snatch my hands back. “No! What are you trying to prove? I’m weak because of this stupid weapon? You win!” I yell at him.

“No, I’m showing you that you’re stronger than your demons. This fear? It hold you back from your full potential. Now take it!” He thrusts the saber into my hands and in an angered rush I snap on him.

I point the saber to his chest, in hopes that it will light up and kill him. But when I see his eyes soften, I get frustrated. I can’t help but go to hit him with my bare hands. He moves quick as he sees what I’m about to do.

He keeps my hands on the saber handle and he looks me in my eyes, with sadness.

I want to scratch his eyes out, how dare he look at me like that?

“Do you feel that, Akasha?” He squeezes my hands tightly and I want to scream. I want to throw a tantrum. He’s looking at me with pity. I’ll show him pity.

“Below the surface of consciousness are powerful emotions. Anger…fear, loss…desire.” When he says desire he looks down at my lips and then back up into my eyes. “T…that’s the path to the dark side.” I tell him, smelling his want and need.

Don’t lost focus, keep the anger. Keep the hate and make sure you attack. I tell myself.

He’s pitying you.

Don’t let him win.

“Semantics.” He says in a whisper. “What do you desire in this very moment, Akasha? Revenge for your people? Taking my life? Or deep down you have the desire to unlock your potential, in a way that I know is a guarantee?”

He flicks the saber from my grasp and it clatters to the ground.

His arousal is unmistakable as it’s starting to suffocate me.

The urge to bite him is strong.

I look away from his eyes and I stare at his lips, his tongue emerges and licks. I remember those lips suckling my clit, I remember his tongue worshiping my pussy.

My thighs clench with desire and I try to pull away but he pins me still with his hungered stare. He leans in close to my ear and he rubs his nose against my skin.

“I can smell how wet you are, Akasha. My desire, in this very moment is to bury my face between those delicious thick thighs of your and partake of that sweet pussy just like I did yesterday. Will you let me do that? Will you let me taste you again?”

A chill runs down my spine as I feel his cock pressed against my stomach. I choke back a moan as my clit throbs.

I want him to touch me.

Taste me.

I want him to lick me till my juices drip down his handsome face.

He flicks his tongue against my earlobe and I let out a small gasp. “Come with me, you haven’t bathed since yesterday and I’m sure you’d like that.” I’d like to sit on this man’s face, but before I could protest he tugs me along by my hands and makes me follow him.

We get to a calm little pond and he lets my hands go and starts walking towards the water.

I watch him pull off his shirt and on his back, I see an ugly scar. It practically took over seventy-five percent of his back. Curiosity bites and I want to know how he got it.

He looks back at me and his eyes travel up and down my body. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

That question, stalls all of my logical thinking and I start pulling off articles of clothing and I follow him into the water.

We’re both completely naked and the cool feeling of the water on my skin feels good to my tense muscles. I watch as he dunks his entire body into the water and I watch for him to break the surface.

Instead I feel his hands on my body and I almost jerk away from surprise, but I still my movements. “You have such pretty brown skin, little flower.” Qimir says as he holds me from behind.

He dips his head low and I feel his teeth graze against my neck. I feel his very erect cock brushing against my lower back and I bite my bottom lip as I reach around and grab a hold of him. He lets out a hiss as I stroke him slowly.

“Is this part of my training, Master?” I feel his muscles tense as I call him that and I know it pleases him by the way he leaves kisses against my neck.

“It’s definitely part of your training. Though I should punish you for running away from me.”

“But I did come back.” I challenge as I rub my thumb against the head of his cock. I hear a groan in his throat and I feel my clit throb. “You did come back to me, like a good girl. So I guess I can reward you a little and make this a lesson at the same time.”

He then cups my breasts and I let out a moan as he rolls my nipples between his fingers. I lean my head back against his chest and he takes the opportunity and sucks my neck. I feel a slight pinch and I know he’s left a mark. “You know one of the many reasons why I chose to keep you, little flower is because you’ve suffered loss. And you’re free from so many things…”

He pulls me back gently towards a large rock in the water and I follow. The water is now only covering up to his lower thigh and my higher thighs. He then leans me against the rock and cages me in with his arms.

I look from his eyes and down to his bare chest. My split tongue makes an appearance which causes him to suck in his breath. My eyes go further down and they widen.

I know what I was touching in the water but holy mother of Venus he’s huge. I look away but he stops me by holding me by my chin. “You were just touching it seconds ago, don’t be afraid of it now…this will be your reward amongst other things, little flower.” He guides my hand down to his hard cock and when I grip it he bites his bottom lip.

“I know I don’t need to teach you on how to pleasure someone, but I want to see how you pleasure yourself, show me what you do on those lonely nights.”

It’s like I’m under his spell, because I then guide my own hand down to my pussy. I rub my lips together and my eyes flutter closed. “No, no, no. I want to watch those pretty grey eyes while you pleasure the both of us.” He growls as he guides my hand up and down on his thick cock.

My eyes open wide when I see him hike up my legs so that I’m in front of him but spread more apart. As I pleasure myself I stroke him with a more firm grasp. “Just like that. Stroke me as if I’m inside of that pretty pussy of yours.” He moans as he watches my fingers rub my clit. I was watching myself stroke him and I see the bead of precum ball at the tip. I had the urge to use my tongues to lick it up and twirl it around the head.

When we both look up at each other he presses his full lips against mine and it gave me a chill. Because it felt like we were meant to kiss…to touch…to be intimate.

I’m as crazy as he is.

I twirl my tongues against his and he rocks his hips faster, as he stokes himself in my hand. I stop focusing on myself and I just use both of my hands to stoke him while rubbing the head against my pulsating clit.

He sucks my tongues and bites my bottom lip. I hear a suck when he releases my lips and I know they’re swollen from the assault.

Qimir’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels the tip slide inside of me. I start to go further but he stops me. “No, you ran from me earlier. You don’t get to feel my cock inside of you just yet. But don’t worry, I’ll let you cum this time. Now make yourself cum with just the tip of my cock. I want your juices dripping against this rock.” He holds my legs further apart and I let out a moan with some gibberish of my native tongue from the added pleasure.

I stroke him against my clit and I bite my lips, moaning, and internally wanting him inside of me. “Master…please just let me slide it in. I want your cock inside of my pussy. I want to make you feel good too.”

He allows only the head to go in again and then he stops. “If you hadn’t ran, Akasha I’d be balls deep inside of you. But you have to learn the consequences of your actions. Now let me watch you cum with just the tip.” He groans as he leans in and bites the same spot he had earlier on my neck.

“Fuck…” I moan as I stroke him faster between my pussy lips. “Mmm, that colorful language. I really like when you use your words to let me know you’re enjoying yourself….I might not have my cock inside of you right now. But it will be inside of you soon.” He licks my bottom lip and I rock my hips now, just to feel more friction.

I move my face and moan that I’m gonna come soon, which only makes him stoke against me faster. “Cum on the head of this cock, little flower. I need to watch you cum.” He moans against my open mouth.

I groan and whimper as I feel my lips clutch on the head of his cock. I stop and feel my juices drip down my lips and onto the shaft of his cock.

I try to catch my breath but he doesn’t give me a second of rest. He moves me up on the rock and flips me over so that my stomach was lying on the cold hard rock.

“Now I get my release.” The snakes in my stomach were tumbling and toiling around as I wait with anticipation of him, fucking me from behind. But instead I feel him move me to my knees and I feel his tongue lap up at my already sensitive clit.

“Ah…t…too much, master.” I moan as I claw at the rock. He gives a firm slap to my ass, before he parts it. “You can take it. I know you can.” He assaults me with his tongue on my clit and my back arches as I squirm trying to get away.

“There you go, running again. Now stay still.” He gives a firm order and my body, does what it’s told.

He slides his tongue inside of me and I feel his nose graze the bud of my ass, which causes me to groan in pleasure.

This bastard is going to ruin me before I can even slit his throat.

I move my hips but he slaps my parted ass, more firmly. “Don’t…move.” He says between licks. I let out a moan in response and feel him slurp and suck my lips.

Just when I think he’s about to let up, he grips my ass and he licks from the tip of my clit all the way to the bud of my ass.

The noise coming from my throat sounded animalistic.

He slips his tongue in and I look back at him. He had his eyes shut but I can tell he was in utter bliss. I feel his fingers stroking my inner walls and I jerk close to an orgasm.

If my nails could dig deeper into the rock I’m sure I would’ve broke chunks of it off.

“Master, Massssster I’m gonna come. I’m gonna-” He spits and slurps it up and I lose it.

I feel myself squirm and squirt all at the same time.

I don’t care that he said don’t move. I move my hips and I rub my ass and pussy in his face so I can ride out the orgasm.

He then holds me firmly still and he gives a hard suck to my aching clit. I jerk one more time and in an embarrassing motion, I hit my head on the rock and I pass out…

••••

I wake up to the smell of something in the air and I’m back in the bed when I open my eyes. The gears in my head start to spin when I realize, Qimir is either sleeping on some floor or chair. Or he’s sleeping in the very bed I’m in.

I quickly get out of the bed and I see I’m wearing one of his t-shirts. It comes just past my knees and yet I still feel exposed. I follow the smell and find him shirtless in what looks like a kitchen.

I look at the scar on his back and the curiosity comes back to my mind. How did he get that scar?

Who hurt him?

For a split second I feel anger in my stomach knowing someone had hurt him.

No, stop.

I don’t care that someone had hurt him. Right, I don’t care.

Yet, I walk a bit further and I reach out, letting my finger tips brush against him. His body tenses and when he turns, I see something menacing in his eyes. I snatch my hand back and he quickly switches.

“Someone’s finally awake. Are you hungry?” Before I can protest, my stomach gives me away. He gives a smirk at the sound motions for me to sit at the table. I hesitate slightly and he stares me down. “Akasha, sit.” He says in a gentle yet steady voice.

I go sit down and he brings over to me, a bowl of some sort of broth. I look at it questioning if I should eat it.

“It’s not poison, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Qimir says as he pulls up a chair. “Are you sure?”

“If I wanted to kill you, it would’ve been when I had you in the alleyway.” Fair point.

I stir the broth with the spoon provided and I bring it to my lips. I sniff the air and the broth doesn’t have any off odors. But you can mask a poison with other ingredients.

I bring the spoon to my lips and from the corner of my eye I see him, watching me. Waiting for me to taste. I let the liquid hit my tongues and I glance at him.

“It’s good.” I tell him as I take another spoon fool. The broth had chunks of meat in it as well as some grains.

He seems to relax after watching me eat and he begins to eat his meal as well.

We eat in silence for a while. The only sound you hear is just spoons scraping bowls and slurping from lips.

I glance at Qimir and I see him licking his spoon and lips. My brain stutters as I remember what those lips and tongue has done to me in the last twenty-four hours and the broth goes down the wrong way.

I choke on the broth and he gets up to help me. But I jerk away from him and I fall out my chair. I manage to choke down the broth and he was crouched down in front of me.

“Even after the intimate moments we had, and you’re still not willing to let me touch you.” He says with a hint of hurt in his voice. “I don’t trust you, Quimir. Is that even your real name?”

He nods and clenched his jaw. “You don’t trust me yet hours ago you trusted me enough to have my face buried in placed on your body intimately. This flower just gets more and more interesting. And as far as my name, I chose it so it’s my name.”

He cocks his head to the side as he stares at my neck. He gives a smirk and I raise my hands to the tender spot. “That mark I left…there’s no mistake that you belong to me. But I’m sure you’ll learn when I leave more marks on you.” He stands up and offers his hand to me but I ignore it and stand on my own.

I walk past him and sit down at the table, no longer hungry. Just feeling licked with anger.

“If you’re done eating then let’s get started on your first lesson. The lesson at hand is admitting your fear.” I feel as if ice cold water was poured over me and I feel exposed.

My eyes look around before anything else and I see he has a saber in his hand. I go to get up but he stops me with a look. “Sit still and don’t you fucking move.”

I don’t even look at him. My eyes on trained on the saber. “Why are you afraid of an object that has no power unless wielded? Why does fear have you by the throat like this, Akasha?”

Qimir walks around the table towards me but again I only stare at the saber. “If you want to kill me with the saber. Just do it. Stop taunting me.” I finally look up at him and he was gazing at me.

“The fight in your eyes lets me know you’re not hopeless. Now why are you afraid or a light saber? Did a Jedi do something to you?” I stare him, unanswering. “Your people?” My eye twitches and he gives a chuckle.

“Genocide is funny to you?” I narrow my eyes accusing him. “No, what’s funny is your anger gives you away. Clearly the Jedi have wronged you but they left such a deep scar on your life that fear has you by a choke hold. I want to help you break that fear.”

“Why? Why is this important to you?”

“Because, what I desire is a partner of equal standing. And I’ve looked for many years. You…you have the potential. But this fear is holding you back and I want to help. Will you let me?” He asks as he towers over me.

I swallow hard and I look down at the saber. “How can you help me? How can you help me heal these scars?” He lifts my chin so that I’m looking up at him. “Not heal them, embrace those scars. Come with me.” He tugs me up from my seat and he leads me to another room.

When we get to this room, I notice the walls have many scratch marks all over them. Qimir stops which makes me do the same as well. “You seem to fear the saber because you see it as a reminder of the terrible events in your life. But instead of freezing with fear, you should concentrate on using that fear to paralyze your enemies.”

I watch as he walks over to a metal box. My first thought is that he’s going to grab another saber, but instead he takes out a metal helmet. It looked homemade and had a creepy smile adoring it. “This is made of Cortosis. It destabilizes light sabers and…it’s also a device they would use on younglings.”

My eyes cut to him. “You were a Jedi?” He nods and I bare my teeth at him. “I knew something was wrong with you! You’re like them! You’re a murderer! Just like them!” I yell as I back away from him. He raises his hand and I get yanked over to him.

“I was a Jedi, and as far as a murderer, I only killed the people who wronged me. I was never on your planet when the erasing happened. I…am what they call, a Sith. I’m telling you all of this because I need you to trust me in order for this training to be a success, Akasha.”

He hands me the helmet and it has some weight to it.

I could smash him across his face, hit him over and over until his skull is caved in and I could be rid of him. But I can’t do that. I don’t even have a way off this island…which means he had to had brought me here on a ship.

But where is the ship?

“What do you want me to do with this? Eat it?” I ask in a sarcastic manner. He rolls his eyes at me and clears his throat. “Put it on, you need to refocus your mind and let yourself be one with the force.” I give him a scowl. “But I’m not force sensitive.”

He shakes his head. “Yes you are, Akasha. I had you under my control earlier but you had managed to get out of my hold. You were most likely force sensitive as a child but no one trained you. Now put the helmet on.”

“After I do, what will you do to me?” I ask as I look down at the frozen smiling face. “I won’t do anything that you won’t like. I promise.” I don’t trust him, but in order to get my way I need to play along. So I put the helmet on and it’s a bit claustrophobic. All I can really hear is my own breathing. “What now…Master?”

I can feel him behind me. Holding my hips in place as he presses his front to my back. “Now close your eyes. Your eyes can deceive you. You must not trust them. Breathe….connect with the force, Akasha. Think of those moments where you’ve had peace. Grasp those moments and use that to connect you.”

A thought bubbles up in my head. A thought I haven’t had since I was a little girl. It was the day my mother had gave me my youth marks.

I remember the day. I was both excited and anxious. I had asked the great grandmother about how the process is done. And she told me that I was suppose to drink a warm liquid that would have me in a limbo state, and then the great grandmother would take red ink, a poking stick and a stone and give me my youth marks.

I still remember my mother holding my hand when the first poke pierced my skin. I winced in pain and my mother said, I must be strong like our people. I need to be brave like my father and cunning like my ancestors.

“Look at you…” I hear Qimir’s voice and that’s when the memory fades. When I come back to the present, I see that I’m holding the saber, but not only that, everything in the room is floating in the air.

I gasp and that’s when everything falls to the floor. I toss the saber down and I take the helmet off. “What are you doing? You were doing amazing, Akasha.”

“I feel sic-” I feel a slight pound to my head and I drop down. But before I can fall completely, Qimir scoops me up in his arms. “Sorry there little flower, I should’ve warned you that you’d feel a bit nauseous after your first time. But you made me proud. Which means you get rewarded greatly.” He leans down and he kisses my temple. He carried me in his outs and walks out of the room, I look back at the saber and helmet and feel…a warm sensation.

Is it because I don’t feel well?

Because he said he was proud of me?

Or because I was able to tap into the force?

Yeah, I don’t feel well. I’ll go with that logic.

••••

After much rest and odd dreams about the force, I was woken up feeling this empty feeling in my gut. I haven’t felt that in a long time.

I crawl out of bed and feel that the side next to me was cold.

Where is he?

I feel my bare feet patting against the cold floor and I hear drilling. I follow the sound and when I find where it’s coming from I see Qimir drilling something onto the helmet.

He senses me because he stops and looks over at me. “Did I wake you?” He asks as he sets his drill down. “No, I was just wondering what you were doing since you weren’t lying next to me.”

He looks down at my bare thighs and the back at me. “I couldn’t sleep, and even if I could, I wouldn’t sleep in the same room as you…you’re too much of a distraction.”

“So where do you sleep? If not in the bed with me?” I ask out of pure curiosity. He looks around and then back at me.

“In here. I have a cot in the corner.” He motions with his chin and I look over to see the cot. It looks uncomfortable and old.

I make a face.

“That can’t be good for your back.” I look back at him and he’s just staring at me like he wants to eat me…out.

“Careful little flower, you sound like you care about me.” I roll my eyes and cross my arms, which causes my chest to push up. His eyes, go right to there and I feel…hot.

“I’m just saying, that can’t be good for your back…speaking of that. How did you get that scar?”

The moment I mention the scar he seems to give off a dark murderous aura. Even I take a small step back.

“…My…Master, gave this to me after she threw me away.” His jaw was clench but I see it in his eyes. The anger and hurt. “So she stabbed you in the back.” I say remembering how big and ugly the scar looks.

I get a slight irritation in my chest hearing that a woman had hurt him.

“Among other things. Yes.” He then goes silent and the room just seems suffocating. So I speak.

“These…scars.” I touch my face and give a sad smile. “Are my youth scars as well as my warrior scars. They were painful, but I adore them.”

“Are you saying I should adore this scar on my back?” He snaps at me. “No, I’m saying my scars have a story. And so does yours. I have plenty of scars you haven’t seen that shows I’ve tried to take my own life….” I pull down the shirt and point to the faint scar on my neck.

“When my people were slaughtered and I was left. I got scared. I got scared and lonely and I remember…I grabbed a chair. I grabbed a chair and I grabbed my old baby blanket. I had cut it up finely and I just kept tying the pieces together until the knots were tight enough. I remember praying to whatever god or entity out there that I could join my people after taking my life. And when I kicked the chair from under me-”

Qimir was up in an instant. I flinch thinking he was going to hit me but instead he pulls me into a hug. “Stop-stop talking about that memory. When you talk about it, you look helpless and that makes my chest hurt, because I can’t stop that for you. I can’t protect you.” He looks down at me and he looks at my neck. He leans down and he kisses the faint scar.

“Don’t ever do this again. I’ll lose my mind if you took yourself away from this planet…from this time period…from me.” He embraces me again, and I feel…warm.

This feeling is foreign to me and I don’t want it to stop. But I can’t allow him to get to me. I can’t allow him to win.

I shrug him off and back up a bit. “What are you working on?” I ask, just to change the subject. He looks back over towards the helmet.

“I’m just adding some new additions to the helmet. It’ll help when you’re wearing it and keep the force in you stable.”

He’s thinking about me.

He’s considering how I felt sick after using the force in that magnitude.

This, this is too much. I need to leave this room or something. I feel like I’m suffocating.

“Oh! I’m…I’m just gonna go back to bed. Sorry to bother you.” I go to leave but he keeps me still by getting a grip of my shirt. “You’re never a bother to me, Akasha. Actually, how are you feeling? I meant to ask you that.”

He gently pulls me closer to him and I swallow hard because he’s giving me a look that tells me, I’m going to be on my back with my legs spread wide open.

“I’m fine. I got plenty of sleep so, I’m fine now.” He looks at my lips and then he trails his thumb against my bottom lip. “So, if you’re fine and you had plenty of sleep, then why do you need to get back to bed?”

“I…uh.”

He walks forward which makes me walk backwards. Until my legs bump against something cool.

My hand touches it and it feels smooth to the touch, like metal or a mirror.

“Little flower, you aren’t trying to avoid me are you?” I shake my head. “No, I figured you didn’t want a distraction so I would just leave you alone.”

“It’s too late for that now isn’t it. You come in here, with this shirt on and your thighs out for display. Imagine if we had company. I’d have to kill them for looking at you. For looking at what’s mine.” He leans me against the metal like wall and he brushes his lips against my neck. This time with lust behind it.

“A…are you sure you don’t want to finish up on the helmet?” I ask, knowing he sure as fuck doesn’t want to do that.

“Why would I do that, when I have a delicious snack in front of me? I think I deserve a break, and I do recall saying I’d give you a reward…”

To watch this man get on his knees and push my legs apart, should be illegal. But he does just that and he lifts my left leg and place it on his shoulders. He looks up at me and while we keep eye contact, he bites and sucks my inner thigh, causing me to hiss in pleasure.

“Now I’ll leave marks that no one but you and I can see.” He says as he trails his tongue against the now bruised mark.

“Lean against the wall for balance, little flower.” I do as I’m told and he hikes me up so that both of my legs are on his shoulders.

I hear him lick and my hands go to his hair. I throw my head back against the mirror, I buck my hips as I feel his tongue does circles around my clit.

His hand then reaches under the shirt I’m wearing and he gets a hold of my right breast. My nipples feel as hard as rocks as I feel him pinch one.

“Qimir…Master, please don’t stop…” I moan out as rock my hips and rub my pussy deep in his face.

I hear him slurp and lap up my pussy and when I finally look down, he was flicking his tongue quickly up and down my slit.

“Mmmm, you’re…such a lovely distraction. Especially with this fucking sweet little pussy. I feel him insert two fingers inside of me and when he does a come here motion, I start stuttering like a madwoman.

He continues to do the come here motion as well as sucking and licking my clit and I quickly without warning cream on his face.

I watch his eyes roll back as he deeply licks me out. I was practically gripping his hair when I came and when I finally catch my breathe, I let go and he has beautiful just fucked hair.

Has be always been this…pretty?

He kisses my left then right inner thigh and then he kisses my pussy lips before letting me down on wobbly legs.

As he stands up, I see the erection he has poking in his pants. I lean in without thinking and I stand on tippy toe, kissing him, tasting myself on his tongue and I twirl with his.

He pulls back but only after I bite and pull his bottom lip. “Mmm where are my manners. A lady as tired as you are shouldn’t be on their feet like this. I think you should rest off of those pretty feet and kneel for me.” He says as I see him rubbing his cock in his pants.

I lower myself on my knees, but he stops me and moves so I mirror him. I look up at him and he leans down and rubs this thumb on my bottom lip. I open my mouth and I suck his thumb, causing a groan to come from him.

“You are so beautiful, Akasha. Such beauty as yours, would make anyone do whatever to make you happy. I would kill for you if it put a smile on your face. I would break someone’s neck for you, it it meant I could have you look at me like this all the time. I’d slit their throat for you. I would cut them open and offer their heart to you just to show you how dedicated I am for your happiness.”

My stomach flutters hearing him say that and I watched as he pulls his pants down. I bite my bottom lip looking at his cock and he strokes it while looking at me.

“You know from the moment I met you, and seen your tongues, I’ve wanted my cock in your mouth. I want to know how that feels, little flower. Can you do that for me? Show me what those pretty tongues can do.” He steps out of his pants and steps closer to me.

I inhale his scent and it makes me moan as I lean forward. I flick my tongues on the head of his cock and he lets a hiss escape his lips. I take the head into my mouth and Qimir lets out a soft moan, while holding the back of my head.

“You’re so good to me, little flower. So, so good.” He does slow and deep thrusts and I feel a tingle in the back of my throat.

“You know why…I’m standing like-oh fuck don’t stop sucking…just like that….You know why I’m standing right here, lit…little flower? So you can watch yourself in the mirror, while you take my cock down your throat.”

I glance over and sure enough we’re facing the mirror. It was a great turn on to see myself on my knees, taking him. I look back up and he slides out of my mouth.

“I’m going to go faster, but I just wanted to warn you, okay little flower?” He asks permission. I grant him that and he smiles. “Good girl, now open.” I open my mouth and he spits in it then slides his cock back in my mouth.

He starts thrusting deeper and faster which tickles my gag reflex. I try to push back but he takes my arms and keeps them up with on of his hands.

“No…hands, little flower. Fuck. Your mouth feels so good.” I start to choke a little but he doesn’t stop. He grips my hair and he fucks my throat deeper. I feel tears welling up in my eyes and he smirks.

“I know you can take this. I know you can take all of it down this pretty little throat of yours. And if not, then I’ll train your throat so…so it can only take my cock. F..fuck. Just like that. Swallow this cock like your life depends on it, Akasha.” He moans as he bucks his hips.

I try my best not to gag, so that he will be happy. Pleasing him seems to be my main focus and I want to make him happy.

When he finally pulls out, a trail of drool and precum drips from my lips. “Do you want me to stop?” He asks while stroking himself faster as he whimpers. “No, master. Keep go-” He doesn’t even let me finish my sentence as he enter my mouth once again.

This time I relax my throat as he face fucks me. I look in the mirror and what I see makes my juices drip onto the floor. Qimir’s muscles were flexed, his veins were pulsing and his facial expressions were blissful.

“My cock….belongs in your throat, Akasha. Don’t you think so?” He asks as he looks at me, thrusting and fucking. I nod, and I gag causing his cock to jump. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum.”

No sooner, I feel his thick cum shoot down my throat. He groans for me to swallow every last drop and just like his good little flower, I obey.

I milk him and he bites his bottom lip looking down at me. He lets my hair and hands go and he lifts me up. I wrap my legs around him

and we kiss, tasting each other in each others mouths.

“You did so good, Akasha. Keep that up and I’ll become addicted to you.” He whispers sleepily. I begin to reply but a yawn cuts me off.

“How about, we get to bed.” I nod and look over at the cot but he shakes his head. “I think we both deserve to sleep in a comfortable bed tonight. And besides, I want you close.”

Hearing him say that makes my heart flutter.

Wait, no. I don’t want it to flutter.

What is Qimir doing to me?

NEXT

[loveemii]

So hi, I really love your work!! And, if you're doing requests, can you please do a hc with Zenitsu, Tanjiro and Inosuke x Gn reader who is a cleaner at the Butterfly Mansion and they're the only one that cleans up after other people, basically a maid if that's how you want to put it.

PS. You don't have to, but I really love your work and have a great day and take care.

hello! i absolutely am in love with this idea and i think it’s super cute! thank you for requesting this 😭🫶 - you take care as well :)

ꨄ—————————————————————ꨄ

Tanjiro Kamado:

y/n was a new worker at the butterfly mansion and they were cleaning up after everyone who had dinner, taking plates cups etc.

tanjiro was admiring them as they cleaned and so he went in to ask if they needed any help.

“Hey I’m Tanjiro Kamado, nice to meet you!”

he said in a kind and joyful filled voice, y/n smiled at him and continued to clear the table.

tanjiro was a little shocked they didn’t say anything back but he spoke again nevertheless.

“Do you need any help? H-here let me get that for you. Seems a lot to pile up huh?”

“Oh y-you don’t need to do that, I can do it.”

they tried to take some plates back from tanjiro but he swiftly shook his head and smiled as he took them to the sink.

“Don’t worry, you’ve been working hard. Let me help you out ok?”

their face seemed to be blushing and a little bit surprised, they smiled and nodded as they got the rest off the table.

“Ok.”

it was breathy and they washed the dishes together talking and laughing.

♡︎♡︎♡︎

Inosuke Hashibira:

y/n was outside watering the flowers of the butterfly mansion again when they noticed inosuke staring again.

“Inoooo! Your staring at them again!”

zenitsu tried to move inosuke out his daze but he wouldn’t budge, zen then opened his mouth and gasped as he smiled and poked ino’s cheek while he twisted his finger giggling at inosuke

“You really like them huh?”

“What was that?”

“I said you-”

“I heard what you said! You couldn’t be more wrong!”

“But you were staring at y/n again.”

“Your a dead man! You wanna fight me?!”

just then y/n has passed by to get more water for the other flowers, inosuke stopped yelling at zenitsu and watched them as they walked by admiring them. zenitsu was giggling and inosuke punched his face without even looking. he kept his eyes on y/n as they made their way to finish watering the flowers.

later that same day inosuke was with tanjiro and zenitsu outside eating dinner when y/n came up to inosuke with something in their hand.

“I noticed you looking at the flowers specially the daisy’s and so I made this for you.”

y/n gave inosuke a flower crown and he took it from them as he blushed of pure shock and embarrassment. tanjiro and zenitsu made the same noise as they put their food down watching the scene.

“Where do I put this?”

they giggled at his question before speaking, he looked confused.

“On your head silly! I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight guys.”

y/n said before walking into the mansion, inosuke’s face was docked but lovingly almost.

♡︎♡︎♡︎

Zenitsu Agatsuma:

zenitsu was watching in awe as y/n who worked at the butterfly mansion was cooking everyone lunch. he was watching them cook as he sat at the table. y/n looked over at zen.

“Hungry are we?”

“Huh? I-ohh yeah I’m super hungry~”

he tried to play off his staring but continued as they looked back to the food they were making. zenitsu sighed a little. resting his face on the table not looking away from them.

“Don’t worry, the food will be ready very soon.”

they quickly looked at zenitsu ad looked away smiling at him looking at them cook, they then waved zenitsu to go over to them. he listened.

“Try this and tell me if you like it.”

they reached the spoon out for zenitsu to try and he took a bite, he smiled warmly and nodded his head rapidly.

“You like it?”

“It’s really amazing Y/n! How did you learn how to cook?”

“I taught myself when I was younger and loved cooking for others ever since.”

they noticed zenitsu was just blushing now staring at them as they mixed the food together.

“What are you staring at?”

y/n said with a smile on their face, zenitsu didn’t think of what he just said and watched her again like a lost puppy.

“You.”

they didn’t even mention it to him later that he was in a daze instead they started cooking for him more often.

ꨄ—————————————————————ꨄ

thank you for reading and i hope this met your request <3

please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes, thank you :)

[jacksprostate]

It happens in Paper Street. Tyler is still gone. The building is oozing with monkeys, but on the upper floors where Tyler and I sleep, I am alone.

I am not alone.

There is two of me. I don't have a twin.

If there's two of me, then there might be two of Tyler.

Tyler would probably think killing myself to monopolize him and his clone is a step closer to bottom.

If there's not two Tylers, I have to kill him anyway.

All of this becomes clear to me in the time it takes for my clone to stare at me and shake his head and get his shit together.

I play it cool. I am so ZEN, he will not realize when I reach over to crush his windpipe.

I say, hey. This is weird.

"Yeah," he says, and my voice is way too loud coming from him. I don't like it. He needs to shut the fuck up. "Is Tyler here?"

I ask him, do you think Tyler would know why the universe broke? I ask him like he's asked me if Tyler would like to take a nice little shopping trip through the local designer stores and pay off the companies' tax breaks by giving hundreds to their check out charity.

I think Tyler would know why the universe broke, of course. He'd be the one to break it. Maybe this is another one of Tyler's little tests. This new version of me seems less certain of that fact, more like he's looking for his daddy's coattails, and now I really can't wait to punch his teeth out of his skull. He doesn't have the hole in his cheek, and I can see him watching it wink when I talk. He looks like a jealous rat.

We must both be Joe's Clenching Bowels.

I ask him, do you think we're different? Maybe there's a butterfly effect. Parallel universes. There has to be a reason he's so pathetic.

"I'm sure we are," he says, like he's telling his boss about sawing cross tips into bullets. Touching.

How'd you meet Tyler?

"On the plane. He gave me his number. Called him after my condo blew up."

I smile. I met him on a nude beach. He gave me his number. I called him after my condo blew up. Every word after nude turns my copy's face a bit ruddy, little tectonic nudges to the ring of fire.

"What were you doing on a nude beach?" he spits. "Gargling your boss's balls?"

Watching Tyler. Naked and sweaty, muscles flexing as he pulled around driftwood and pilings to sit in his own hand of perfection. I know I sound like a priest that wants to keep God for himself. I am.

"You're a fag," he says.

I think of my birthmark on my foot. I think of Tyler. I think of Marla. I think of how stupid this version of me is, to pretend he wouldn't get on his knees just for the chance of a taste of Tyler. Is that not how he got the kiss I can see on his hand? His Tyler must have had to lower his standards.

Best not to accuse others of things you're guilty of, I say. I'm willing to face any number of uncomfortable truths if it will get rid of him, I realize.

He's flustered. "No, no, it's not —" he waves his hands. "It's not like that with me and him. No."

Yes it is. It's not love as in caring, sure.

I step closer.

It's property as in ownership.

This must be why Tyler likes it. I see myself wither like a guy kicked in the balls on the first night he attends fight club.

I could be over that table every night for Tyler, I say. You would just be jealous. Just like you're jealous of Marla. Of that one pretty kid you probably pummeled into the ground too. Or did you not even have the balls for that?

Eliminate the competition. Face the truth only to drive it deeper into this jammed copy of myself. Win Tyler's affections. I have already seen the bones in my yard, I can tell, he has not.

One of us is committed. I pull my human sacrifices out of my pocket, throw them at him. One of us wants this. I get in his stupid face.

It's not you.

He swings at me, I'm fighting to the death.

"Tyler isn't here, is he?" he taunts me.

"Tyler left you."

"He doesn't want you anymore."

All things true, but maybe not once I kill you.

I am the abandoned dog, performing tricks so its owner will come home. I am myself, calling my father and telling him about graduating college, like it means fuck all to him. I am myself, pushing onto that next step on his list, anyway. Tyler's my new list, and he wants murder. I've known it. I'll face it.

He gets me in a headlock, hits me over and over, opening up that hole in my cheek. I go limp, drag him down, flip him over myself and grab his throat. I slam his head into the ground. It's soft, moldy wood, not concrete, so I have to start squeezing, instead.

Death will commence in five.

Five, four.

He's gasping, slamming his palm into my nose, breaking it over and over.

Four, three.

Three, two.

His body is shaking under mine. Seizing. He has the primordial strength of a man about to die, and I have the primordial strength of a man about to live.

Death will commence in two.

His eyes are rolling back. I can feel his throat giving in.

No more chance for breaths. It crumbles beneath my hands like the ribcage of a hummingbird.

No chances for evacuation.

Death commences.

Now.

On the upper floors of Paper Street, I am alone.

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] ★ Main Story | Act 15 - Painful RE:bake | Episode 6 - A Broken Shell

Taichi: --Well then, I’ve got a challenge that I’ve always wanted to take on!

Taichi: I… wanna try getting a leading role outside of the company.

Taichi: The only reason I was able to stand at position zero with my chest out as the lead role during Mantou Fist was because I had everyone in Autumn Troupe behind me.

Taichi: But for my “individual growth”, I’ve gotta go beyond that.

Taichi: I wanna play the leading role without having all of Autumn Troupe with me. That’s what will lead to my evolution and confidence as the actor, Taichi Nanao.

Taichi: That’s why… I wanna take on that challenge and give the world I once gave up on another shot head-on.

Azami: The world you once gave up on…?

Taichi: I’m gonna try my hand in the film industry, like dramas and movies, ‘cause when I did those as a child actor, I didn’t grow at all!

Sakyo: The film industry, huh…?

Taichi: I got so knocked down by Ten-chan’s overwhelming presence, especially since he was the same age as me, that I gave up on the idea that I could ever be like him…

Taichi: But now that he recognized me as an equal rival, I think there might be something I can do now.

Taichi: I wanna contribute to the troupe by re-challenging the barriers that I failed at back then and become an even better actor than I am now!

Taichi: …That said, I’ve got no clue where to even start.

Banri: If you’re tryin’ to get an audition, why don’t ya talk to Tenma?

Banri: I mean, you’d still hafta be offered the leadin’ role in a production, but the Sumeragi Agency prolly has some contacts.

Banri: That’s how I got an audition for Handsome Detective.

Taichi: Oh yeah, that’s right!

Juza: Handsome Detective, huh… That was quite the masterpiece.

Banri: Shut it.

Taichi: Alright, I’ll try talking to Ten-chan!

Azami: If that’s the kinda thing you’re talkin’ about, I’d kinda like to do something like that too.

Sakyo: That’s something I’ve always wanted to try too.

Omi: …

Taichi: Omi-kun? You okay?

Omi: Yeah-- I just need to find something to challenge like everyone else.

Omi: (I’m concerned about the matter at hand, but… I need to focus on myself.)

Banri: Aight, so that’s it for what we’re--.

Sakyo: Can I make a suggestion?

Sakyo: These individual challenges are good, but this is a sequel performance. If we don’t bring attention to Autumn Troupe, we won’t fill seats and we won’t sell on streaming.

Sakyo: We should make good use of our spare time and do something all together as Autumn Troupe.

Taichi: Like what…?

Juza: Somethin’ like how Spring Troupe did their beginner’s workshop?

Sakyo: Exactly.

Azami: I feel like that was a good opportunity to get people interested in their performance, not just our fans.

Juza: Should Autumn Troupe do that too?

Banri: Nah, a workshop for beginners with this many scary faces? …We’d just scare away the participants.

Azami: Shouldn’t it be somethin’ that take advantage of Autumn Troupe’s strengths?

Juza: Our strengths… Ya mean action?

Taichi: I getcha! We can teach people the basics too!

Sakyo: We should get Yuzo-san to supervise the rehearsal menu then.

Banri: If we’re gonna put together a plan between now and before Autumn Troupe’s performance, and talk to a buncha different people, we better get on it…

Omi: Then I’ll take care of the management stuff once you’re ready for it.

Omi: I’ve done planning and management for these kinds of events for the photography agency before.

Omi: Also, Zen-san mentioned the other day that--.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Flashback*

Zen: Just let me know if any of the newborn group wants to use it for action-specific rehearsals or somethin’.

Zen: I’ll lend it to you whenever it’s available. Tell your director about it.

*Flashback end*

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Omi: So I can get right on it and talk to him about it.

Taichi: That’s some great timing!

Sakyo: The first generation always has a soft spot for the newborn group.

Banri: I’m grateful that we’re able to rely on them now.

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[ashzenxx]

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

★ A-zen / Ash / Ashzen.

★ She/they.

★ 18+ content, minors DNI. (TW provided for works)

★ Posting on AO3, link provided below.

★ Writing for DCA (FNAF : SB) and SAMS.

★ Open to Asks, fan arts. I appreciate interactions.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Master list :-

I. Tell me you want me (hiatus)

DCA! Eclipse, Sun and Moon × reader

“Looking at you pains me a little. Our bond, it's like Yin and Yang.”

“It scares me when I find myself wishing I could breathe in flesh and blood instead of motors and wires.”

“Nothing is perfect, but this right here, is my reason to come back home.”

Their hands are soiled in blood and lubricant. Their cores carry the darkness required to run the underworld society through clandestine intelligence operations. They are sentient yet ruthless. Sapient yet brutal. They promised themselves they won't bow for anyone, anymore. But for you, they would kneel. You may run but their three pairs of oculars would follow you to the gates of Hell. After all, they know they would end up there. They're aristocrats of evil.

“Tell me you want me, bambolina. Please.”

Updates - ongoing (5/?)

Chapter 1 - Synopsis : Raconteur ✓

Chapter 2 - Prologue : I-chigo I-chie ✓

Chapter 3 - Epilogue : Opia ✓

Chapter 4 - One : Adronitis ✓

Chapter 5 - Two : Esperance ✓

Chapter 6 - Three :

CURRENT NUMBER OF WORDS - 14,390

ART - Front cover art for my au, Eclipse's tattoo, Sunny boi

II. Forget-me-nots, moonlight

DCA! Moon × reader

Moon remembers everything, he does not forget.

Being brought to consciousness. Being with Sun and taking care of children. Judgements towards him. His first friend besides Sun who called him his ‘son’. Used to, at least.

Moon remembers the blood that coats his hands.

The feeling of grinding gears inside his head.

Sun's pleading. The screams of children and adults.

Thoughts of wanting to die and protect Sun.

Being saved and given a second chance at ‘living’.

Moon may not have a choice in remembering all the pain he was forced to endure.

But remembering you? It will always be his choice.

He will remember you till the stars die and colours turn grey over time.

And maybe, in another lifetime he will find you again. The two of you would live through it all again. Raise a kid together who would run around the house calling out your names. Where he would be able to grow old together, with the only person he's loved this way. Where he would get to say he loved you just as much, if not more than the way you loved him. Where he can sit at the rooftop and gaze at you like you hung all the stars in the sky for his sake.

“Then remember me, moonlight.”

Till the end of his time.

CURRENT NUMBER OF WORDS - 13,204

Updates :- (ongoing 2/4)

Chapter 1 : Dulce bellum inexpertis ✓

Chapter 2 : Post nubila phoebus ✓

Chapter 3 :

Chapter 4 : Ad astra per aspera

III. Even death grovels at the feet of their heart (oneshot)

SAMS! BloodMoon × reader

The Sun was nowhere to be seen. As if, too afraid to watch the carnage about to happen through the hands of the bloodthirsty automaton lurking behind the tall trees. Waiting.

Waiting. Waiting for you to realise what you were doing wrong. Waiting for you to turn back and leave with your usual polite nods. Waiting for you to walk away from that unlucky murderer who had the audacity to lay their filthy eyes on you.

Unfortunately, you don't leave either. And they have to let you see how naive you are with your kindness and empathy. They decide to give you that ugly reality check and they do something that they regret.

You scoff and glare up at your partner with annoyance.

"Bloodmoon, it's not a big deal, really."

They don't deserve you, they know. But they are selfish because they know they want you. They're pathetic and worthless. So they grovel at your feet. Because you're their heart.

They would never let you go.

IV. Kiss me under the Somei Yoshino (oneshot)

SAMS! BloodMoon × reader

“We don't trust ourselves like that, chère ichor. Are the flowers we bring everytime we come back not enough to satiate your desire? Are our efforts not enough to—”

“Blood moon.”

They stop. Somehow, your gentle reminder never fails to stop them from spiralling into that darkness they carry within. The darkness they've vowed to protect you from.

“I want to sit under the cherry blossoms with you. And even if you're stressed and unlikely to think of this as a good idea, I still trust you both, nonetheless.”

They tilt their head down to peer at you prudently like the sunflower drinking in all of the sun's warmth it can get before dusk. They would run to the end of the world for you, if your eyes gazed at them delicately.

“We will go, chère ichor. With you, we will.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Currently working on :-

1. Tell me you want me (hiatus, revising it)

2. Forget-me-nots, moonlight. (Oneshot - four chapters)

3. Soulmates red string bearer au.

4. Royalty DCA + SAMS and mana affined reader. (oneshot)

5. Horror mer - Siren!Sun × reader (one shot) (could be mature/suggestive themes)

6. Trying my hands on fnaf art, mostly the DCA.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[pomefioredove]

Wahhh I love your writings so so so much and you absolutely deserve 500 and more ToT seeing your posts always makes my day!! I saw the match-up event and knew I had to join, it'll be my first time trying one of those!

It is kinda hard to describe myself... Which I guess says something about me? I'm a total homebody, finding comfort in solitude and the sort of freedom that comes with being able to express myself, by myself, with no restraint. But even then, there's nothing I don't love about the bustling nighttime, basking in the sort of romantic air of the evening as I admire the city lights and the ambience of energy.

I'm the type of person that finds myself in people. For better or for worse, my presence is determined by those I choose to be around... So overall I'm a big people pleaser and am kind of starved for good friendships and affection, having always had a hard time keeping connections or finding people that truly want to be with me, which in turn makes me a bit of a loner, I suppose... I do truly yearn though lol, so the want for connection is still there, raging within. It's almost a painful sort of pining, because I never hold a grudge.. Even if someone does wrong by me, I will always be ready to welcome them again with open arms. I'm fiercely loyal, so I long to have people reciprocate that.

I adore anything that keeps my mind going and gives me that feeling of satisfaction and indulgence... I would say I find that feeling in my passion for art, writing, and reading... analysing my favorite movies and literature, getting to notice little things about the people around me and storing them in the back of my mind as little anecdotes I can smile about. Putting myself in the shoes of others, letting my imagination go wild— that small balcony full of potted plants is so beautiful and cozy, I wonder what the interior of the home is like, then... Small, full of zen, with warm lights? That person on the sidewalk, waiting for the bus with headphones on, they look like they would like jazz, or maybe something more upbeat?

Im also a dreamer, I guess I can describe it as such haha. Im a hopeless romantic by heart, yet sometimes I find myself feeling a twinge of apprehension at the thought of truly being in a relationship... Maybe it's because it's uncharted territory, or it's because that "dreaming" side of me has that sort of "prince charming" fantasy that I've always wished for, even on a more realistic level. But even then, I know I can be patient and let time do it's thing while I focus on bettering my own future, and finding happiness and comfort in myself in the meanwhile.

I feel like maybe I've made this a bit too long haha.,,, take your time, and have a wonderful day! 🩷🩷

I match you with 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚

anon I hope that you were purposefully trying to get him. I think you might actually be his soulmate oh my god

The First Impression:

Do you believe in love at first sight? Malleus does.

The connection is immediate. He's drawn to you like a moth to a flame, and conversing with you only enchants him more. Perhaps you bump into each other somewhere in the dead of night, or maybe you're just classmates, either way he simply knows.

Why He Fell:

Malleus soon finds himself purposefully seeking out your company, wanting to get closer but not sure how. This whole "friendship" thing is quite new to him, after all, and he doesn't want to scare you off.

There's no telling what exactly it is that makes him fall in love, but he falls, and he falls hard. He relishes in every moment you spend together, whether it's talking about your shared passion for the arts, or listening to you describe dreams. Your perspective on life is so... fascinating to him, he can simply never get enough of it. Your attention to detail, your appreciation of the little things, your ceaseless curiosity and active imagination, the care you feel for strangers... You quite literally change his world view.

Perhaps he's not exactly a prince charming, but he's close enough.

The Relationship:

There's a sense of understanding between the two of you when it comes to your loneliness. Later on, Malleus will question if he could tell that you felt as isolated as he did when he first saw you, if that was what drew him closer. But he doesn't put much thought into it. You enchanted him, and that's enough of a reason.

Though, perhaps, in the end, it's that shared loneliness that drives you together again and again. Your fierce loyalty, your craving for love and affection. You make each other feel safe and secure, which is all Malleus could really ask for at the end of the day.

He truly grows into himself during the course of your relationship, becoming a more stable, caring, and emotionally intelligent version of himself. You truly bring out the very best in him, and he can only hope he does the same for you.

There are awkward moments, of course, being two people that have no prior relationship experience. There's miscommunication, the occasional bruised ego, but there's truly nothing that could tear you apart. Malleus is devoted, reliant on his loved ones in such a way that perfectly mirrors your loyalty, and the both of you are quick to forgive and talk and move on. Probably the healthiest relationship to ever healthy.

He absolutely adores you from beginning to end.

[meefy]

Some Thoughts on Mitsuhide + Aromanticism in Media and Reality

Major spoilers for Chapters 92 and onwards of the Akagami no Shirayukihime manga ahead!

When I first got into the AnS fandom, I kept hearing about some big manga!plot decision that had made some fans completely abandon the manga, so disappointed were they. I did my best to avoid spoilers so I didn't know what this event was for the longest time. Now, being caught up to that storyline and thensome, I know what that event was - and can say that I was a bit surprised when I remembered that it had upset people so badly.

Yes, Mitsuhide rejected Kiki's proposition of marriage, and she opted to marry Hisame instead. It was, apparently, clearly hinted at that Kiki and Mitsuhide were in love all this time, and it was cruel of him to reject her when she cared about him so deeply - right?

Well...maybe not.

I write this as an aro/ace person, and I'm going to be examining Mitsuhide's character through an aro/ace lens, too. I have talked plenty about how AnS has some great, positive representation in its characters, and Mitsuhide is no different. In fact, I relate to his experience quite a bit.

Mitsuhide is often teased, from the very beginning, for being "in love" with Zen. He shows no interest in anyone else other than Zen, outside of what seem like only platonic friendships, but his loyalty is solely to the Prince.

Except, it appears, for Kiki Seiran.

Their first interaction is yet another source of jokes; Mitsuhide mistakes her for a boy. And when the current story begins, the two are already always together as the Prince’s trusted aides. It's the perfect set up for a love story, even moreso when Hisame is introduced: the man initially so desperate to improve his social status and have Kiki's hand that he offers to fight her for it - and Mitsuhide steps in and saves the day. It's romantic, it's satisfying, it's...not all that it seems.

First, let me preface all this by saying that I will never go out of my way to tell others what they can and cannot "ship" or "headcanon". It is absolutely possible for this sort of plot to eventually devolve into a friends to lovers scenario.  And, had it not been for Mitsuhide's blatant "coming out" to Zen and his rejection of Kiki's proposal in Ch. 92, it might have turned into this. But to me, it would be incredibly disrespectful to Mitsuhide as a character to berate him for "not marrying Kiki" when he explictly tells Zen in Ch. 98, after chapters of soul-searching, that he is not interested in marriage - with Kiki or anyone else for that matter.

Mitsuhide turns Kiki down the first time by saying that he wants to wait till Zen himself is married and living his own path, and that as Kiki is so close to the Prince and is so trusted a friend, it would be impossible and downright strange for him to consider wedding her. It doesn't help that since Kiki is on a deadline to marry, Mitsuhide is put in a position where he must immediately choose the path he wishes to take. I definitely feel here for Kiki, who has by her own admission harboured feelings for Mitsuhide for years now (feelings he never caught onto - #justacethings!), only to be told in no uncertain terms that he cannot reciprocate them.

I empathized a great deal, as an aspec person, with Mitsuhide's first confession here. Growing up aroace in a world dominated by amatonormativity, I was told indirectly or otherwise that there was something "wrong" with me, and that my priorities - work, friendships, family, hobbies - would one day come second to an important intimate relationship. Since that never happened for me, I just assumed, as Mitsuhide did, that I was waiting for something in my life to settle down before I dated: till I was done school, for instance. Or, when my teenage relationships inevitably failed, they just "weren't the one" or it was a situation of me being "not ready". Never did it enter my mind that I could tell someone (or even myself) that I would never date or marry at all, and I wonder if this concern ever crossed Mitsuhide's mind, too, when he withheld some details from Kiki in his first conversation with her about the matter.

When Hisame and Mitsuhide speak about what transpired with Kiki in that discussion, Hisame senses that Mitsuhide was not completely honest with her about his true feelings. Although Mitsuhide is understandably angry by this accusation, he nevertheless does not deny it - and eventually speaks to Kiki again to clarify that it is not just her he is rejecting, but everyone and anyone else who may propose to him in the future. This he says in no uncertain terms; his oath is to protect and serve Prince Zen, and this he holds above all else, marriage included. At last, he is able to put his feelings on the table and be honest with others and himself: he does not want to marry, he wants to remain at Zen's side.

Those on the aromantic and/or asexual spectrum are often told, through popular media or directly by family and friends, that an intimate romantic relationship should be prioritized above all else. Relationships are all about compromise, about changing your immediate desires when it means letting your partner be happy, so that everyone "wins". This is a very amatormative way of viewing things. What happens when your priorities and values do not work when a relationship is involved?

For me, my priorities are my hobbies, my dog, volunteering, my close friends, and maintaining my health. I can think of nothing worse than having to change any of those values or even alter them to allow for another person in my life - one with whom I'd be expected to intimately share my space and time with, at that. It seems this is what Mitsuhide feels, too: marriage would interfere with his sworn duty to protect Prince Zen, and this for him is his highest priority. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that! He seems perfectly content with doing so...until, of course, he confides all this in Zen.

There is quite a humourous post on Mitsuhide's "coming out as aroace" to Zen here on Tumblr already, but on a more solemn note, this is a similar reaction (at least, the core themes) as I got when I first came out to close family. I was just "not ready to be with someone" and "hadn’t met the right person". I needed to "grow up and try harder", and "one day I would want to find someone to marry".

Although Zen’s motive for scolding Mitsuhide is rooted moreso in not wanting him to give up his life and wellbeing for Zen's own sake, there is a genuine confusion and shock in the Prince’s words to his aide: what will Mitsuhide do if he gets other proposals? Is he just waiting to see if he'll change his mind? It is very difficult at first for Zen to understand the gravity and finality of what Mitsuhide is saying, and this is often the case with many aroace people: the "you will change your mind one day" line.

But so what if I don't?

I found Zen's emotional response, and Mitsuhide's equally emotional reaction, quite moving as the two grew to understand each other's thoughts and feelings on the issue. It certainly did not help that Mitsuhide was still reeling from the trauma of the Bergatt affair, and I sense that Zen suspected Mitsuhide's reasoning and fierce desire to protect him was based on that experience. And, to some degree, it might be! But again, the idea that trauma is at the heart of someone's "choice" to be aro/ace is not an uncommon one, but it is a hurtful one, and one that undermines the feelings and values of the person who is coming out. I am not aroace because I was traumatized, I am aroace because that is who I am. Mitsuhide might be more inclined to protect Prince Zen because of his fear of being unable to do so, but that is a separate matter from his desire to never marry.

And for Kiki, who so openly admitted her true feelings and desire to be with Mitsuhide only to be turned down? As I wrote earlier, I truly feel for her; it was by no means easy for her to be rejected not once but twice, regardless of the reasons. But as hard as it may be to accept, she is not owed Mitsuhide's romantic attraction or his hand in marriage; she is owed his honesty and respect, yes, but he cannot simply "change" and fall in love with her. It cannot and does not work that way in reality.

Mitsuhide's rejection of her romantic proposal also presents a rarely-explored (and rarely well portrayed) concept: a purely platonic friendship between a man and a woman, built on love and mutual respect. Friendship of any gender is usually pushed aside in favour of romance; to see a strong, solid friendship prioritized over a forced relationship is both pleasantly surprising and deeply admirable. Everything Mitsuhide tells Kiki sounds as what one might tell a platonic friend of the same gender in any other amatormative media piece - I love you, I respect you, I enjoy working with you, but I am not in love with you.

I have always had deep respect for the way love has been portrayed in AnS, and I was so excited to see aromanticism and asexuality depicted, too. Having a character reject a relationship in favour of remaining single for its own sake and to say true to his values is almost unheard of in popular media; asexuality is typically portrayed as a condition in need of treating, or one that the "right person" can "fix". Mitsuhide, mercifully, is not portrayed in this way. Zen's initial reaction is, of course, quite heated - his shock is understandable if it is not justifiable, and even if it hurt to read, it is a fairly accurate depiction of some common misconceptions about aromanticism/asexuality.

And in the end, after all, Zen (and Kiki, and Shirayuki, and Obi) come to understand and respect Mitshuide the way he is - as it should be.

-

Amatonormativity: the assumption that everyone desires and strives for a romantic relationship.

[samwpmarleau]

fic: touch my soul (you know how)

whumptober day 12: starvation masterlist: tumblr, ao3 If she only has a few more fleeting moments to see him, ever, she’s going to spend it doing what she’s more than once thought about ever since he flashed her that smug little smirk as she quaked him against the junkyard shelves. warning: very nsfw

“God, I’m a mess,” Daisy sniffles, once Mack and Yo-Yo set off to have what she’s sure will be a complicated conversation.

Unthinkingly, she swipes at the tears on her cheeks; the black mascara residue on her fingers tells her now she must look like even more of a mess. Then again, it’s been an harrowingly long day, and frankly, Robbie’s seen her in far worse states than this.

“Still less eyeliner than last time I saw you.”

“I was depressed, you jerk.”

Robbie smiles, making her wish not for the first time that she could’ve known him before the whole flaming head thing. His glimpses of lightness are few and far between, but she’s glimpsed enough to know that once upon a time, that light came out a lot more often. Brooding suits him, sure, but she likes the alternative better. Maybe spending some time on Earth will do him good.

“Anyway,” she says, “once everything blows over, I’m inviting myself over for dinner, so let me know what —”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, with Gabe. Aren’t you going back to L.A.?”

Robbie’s smile fades. “Oh. No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean, I have to take care of the book. That’s the entire reason I’m here.”

“But — you’ve only been here for a few hours.”

“I don’t get a vote.”

“You can’t ask for a few vacation days?”

“No. Soon as the Rider’s done with Coulson, he’ll come back to me and we’ll be gone. I wasn’t kidding when I told you I’ve never felt hate like that from him before. He’ll take over completely if I try to fight him on this.”

Daisy stares at him, incredulous. “How could you make that deal?”

“Daisy —”

“No, don’t ‘Daisy’ me. Mack told me what the terms were, and they’re terrible.”

“It doesn’t matter. The alternative was letting a good man suffer for things I did. The Rider wasn’t going to let go of Mack for anything less than what I offered.”

“Gabe was right,” Daisy snaps, “you do blame yourself for things that aren’t your fault. Yes, Mack’s a good man. But so are you. You really have that low of an opinion about yourself?”

“So, what’s your solution, girl?” Robbie laughs. There is very little humor in it. “You think you can hack a deal with the devil or something? Come on. There’s no way out of this.”

She doesn’t have a good answer to that, but she’s not about to accept that he’s right either, that there’s no escape. It’s too depressing to think about. Hesitantly, Robbie reaches out to grasp her wrist. It surprises her a little, though perhaps it shouldn’t; for someone whose inner demons are literal, he can be impossibly gentle.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve dealt with the Rider for six years, what’s a little longer?”

“Eternity is not a little longer, Reyes.”

Robbie sighs. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know! Anything other than this zen bullshit. It’s like you don’t even care about the people you’re leaving behind.”

“Of course I care.”

“Really? Because you seem real eager to skip off back to hell. Were you even planning on saying goodbye?”

“I already called Gabe.”

“I wasn’t talking about Gabe. I mean, not only about Gabe.” Daisy pokes a finger into his chest. “Actually, I should get two goodbyes.”

Robbie gives a slight frown, like she’s speaking gibberish. “Didn’t exactly have a chance last time. And I didn’t know you’d want one.”

“I told you, I vet my vengeance demons before I hop in a car with them. We were a team. Ish.”

“Yeah, ish. You took off pretty quick.” There’s a slight edge to his words that takes Daisy aback. He elaborates, “The night of the blackout. I went to deal with Canelo’s and get you some supplies, and you were gone. Not even a note.”

She considers telling him what precipitated her leaving. But she can’t throw Gabe under the bus like that any more than she could when he first had warned her away from his brother. There’s genuine hurt on Robbie’s face, though, which is something she admittedly had never stopped to think about. She’d assumed it wouldn’t make a difference to him whether she was there or not.

“Sorry. Look, it wasn’t anything to do with you. You know how I was. I sabotaged myself, and sometimes other people got caught in the crossfire.”

That’s the truth, too. Gabe was just an excuse. She’d seen the writing on the wall, that she could easily get attached to Robbie’s intriguing contrast of light and dark, so she was more than happy to walk right out the door.

“You can’t have thought I was that good of company. As I recall, you tied me up and tried to find evidence that I deserved to die.”

“That was before, and not the point.”

“Okay, well, I can’t change any of that now. You weren’t the reason I left your house that night.”

Robbie looks somewhat mollified.

Given the current circumstances, however, she thinks she still comes out on top of this particular argument. “At least I was in this dimension. Which is more than can be said for you.”

She takes a minute to commit his face to memory. There’s only one way all this can go from here.

“I’m never gonna see you again, am I?”

“I don’t know.”

Frustration, anger, sadness, and panic combine to form a knot in her throat, preventing her from speaking. Not that she knows what she’d say even if she could speak. She’s too drained to know what to do. To accept that no sooner has Robbie come back to Earth than he has to leave again. No time to breathe or have a real conversation. Barely even any time for him to enjoy the Rider taking a sabbatical.

She’s never known him as this, she realizes. As himself. He’s always had another half to him. But, temporarily, that other half has attached itself elsewhere. There is no one listening in or raring to take control. He’s who she thought he was the night they met, flashing her that smug little smirk as she quaked him against the junkyard shelves.

“Daisy?” Robbie prompts.

I’m here now, he’d said, soft and hopeful in a way he wasn’t back then, and that’s good.

Wasting no more time they don’t have, she fists her hands in his jacket and kisses him.

It’s hard and artless, but right now, she doesn’t care. If she only has a few more fleeting moments to see him, ever, she’s not going to spend them being mournful.

Before she can do anything further, however, Robbie pulls away. “Daisy, wait —”

“Ghost Rider can give you fifteen minutes.”

“It’s not that.”

She registers his hesitation and lets go of him. “Oh, you don’t … sorry, I thought …”

“It’s not that either.”

“Okay, then what’s the problem?”

“You deserve better than fifteen minutes. I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I won’t. Save your chivalry for someone else.”

He delays a moment more, as if wondering whether this is a test, then abruptly pulls her to him and kisses her like any second now she’s going to change her mind. She almost laughs at the unexpected fervor. She’s only ever known him as reserved, someone who’s painstakingly aware of every movement he makes. The danger he poses.

A danger which now, he doesn’t have. Now, he’s just a man.

She gladly lets him tug off her shirt, but stills his hands as he goes to remove his jacket. “Don’t. I’m kinda into it.”

“You’re — you do know I’ve killed people in this jacket?”

“You’ve also saved people in it. Try not to pop a boner next time you take someone out.”

Baffled, he nonetheless leaves the jacket where it is and complies, “Whatever you want.”

“Dangerous words.”

“Not if I mean them.”

“All right, then,” Daisy says as she tosses aside her pants and underwear. “Make me remember you, Robbie Reyes.”

Robbie’s smile is as bittersweet as the reality she knows soon will crash down upon them. “Yes, ma’am.”

She expects him to lift her when he guides her to the wall, but instead he drops to his knees and nudges her feet apart. He nuzzles the inside of her thigh, then lifts her leg over his shoulder for better access. Kisses are pressed to her soft skin, closer and closer to where she really wants him. His hands slide down the swell of her rear to grip her hips and keep her in place.

Which is probably a good thing, as she tries to buck into him when finally he puts his mouth on her. He licks a stripe along her slit, lapping at her like he’s been craving it. Maybe he has, desiring her all this time yet worlds away from being able to have her. And now he’s inflicting that upon her, infuriatingly avoiding her clit even as he presses two fingers inside her.

She lets out a low huff of annoyance at his measured pace, half of her wanting him to hurry the hell up, and the other wanting to drag this out. He begins shallowly pumping his fingers in and out of her and curls them at the knuckle to brush against her walls.

She inhales sharply as he finally closes his mouth around her clit. Her breathing falters as her pleasure builds, and she tangles her fingers in his hair. She wishes it were longer, so she get a proper grip. Remind him who exactly is in charge here.

Unsubtle hint received, he urges her closer, quickening his pace. Wetness begins to drip down her thighs; his fingers must be slicked in it. The thought has her tightening her leg around him, and he moans against her. The vibration does it, pulling a cry from her as her orgasm hits.

Not waiting for her to ride it out, he abruptly sets her onto the table, unbuckles his jeans, and pushes inside her in one firm stroke. She gasps at the intrusion; he’s not small, and it’s been eight months since she’s been with anyone. But it’s a quick adjustment, for she’s more than wet enough.

She wraps her legs around his waist as he shoves into her again, and again. His hands will leave bruises, she thinks, with the pressure at which he holds her. She doesn’t care. He understood the assignment — bruises mean she couldn’t forget him even if she tried.

“Mark me,” she commands. He slows in question, and she nods. “Do it.”

Looming over her, he kisses her once, then sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of her shoulder. She winces at the sting but leans into him as he nips up her neck and leaves behind distinguishable red marks that she prays no one asks about. He adjusts his hold on her, then pulls her fast and hard onto him. It’s just this side of painful, not that she’s complaining.

She hopes wherever Coulson and the others are is nowhere near here. Robbie’s thrusts are anything but quiet, the sounds of her ecstasy carry into the hallway, and she can hear the rustling of his leather jacket and muffled squeak of the table every time it shifts beneath her. She feels herself again begin to lose control — and so does he.

“Vente para mí,” he murmurs in her ear.

“What?”

He chuckles and translates, “Come for me.”

Robbie reaches between them to rub her clit and, apparently buoyed by her reaction to his words, caresses her with more Spanish she doesn’t understand. He could be reciting a recipe for all she knows, but whatever it is, she drowns herself in it.

Robbie falls first. His movements stutter then stop, and with a grunt he releases inside her. The sensation snaps every shred of her self-control, sending her over the edge. The room trembles as she comes with his name on her lips.

It takes several moments for her to regain her wits, consumed as she is. Robbie’s no different, if the way he delays pulling out is any indication.

God, if she’d known he was this good of a lay, she’d have fucked him a long time ago.

Well, no, probably not. She hadn’t been in any kind of headspace to do that the last time they were around each other. She’s not sure he had been either.

But she’d have thought about it.

She hears Robbie let out a quiet snort, and doesn’t have to ask why once she follows his line of sight. The screens of three different monitors have been cracked or blown out entirely, and everything that wasn’t bolted down has shifted. She covers her face with her hands. How is she supposed to explain that to Fitz and Simmons?

“Never caused an earthquake before,” Robbie muses.

She groans in humiliation, but lets him pull her up. He looks wrecked, chest heaving and face sheened in sweat, which makes her feel marginally better.

She drops her head against his shoulder, savoring what she can. As both arousal and afterglow fade, reality begins to set in.

It can’t have taken that long for the Rider to dispatch Aida, not with how full of rage he was, and no doubt he’d want to return to his true host as soon as possible. Take Robbie away again, indefinitely, forever.

Daisy clings tighter to him. Maybe if she refuses to give up, he won’t leave.

He has to, though. She knows that. What either of them wants doesn’t matter anyway; Robbie’d made his deal, and the Rider is without compassion. There’s no do-over, no second chance.

Reluctantly, she lets go of him. “Promise me you’ll be careful? Promise me you’ll come back.”

“I can’t. The Rider —”

“Fuck the Rider.” Daisy cups his face in her hands and demands, “Tell me this isn’t goodbye.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

“I don’t care if it’s a lie, just —”

“Daisy, no.”

“Please.”

He gently brushes her hair out of her face in place of an answer. Which, really, is an answer all the same.

“Daisy? Robbie?”

Daisy jumps at hearing Coulson’s voice down the hallway. His footsteps draw closer, too close. Robbie squeezes his eyes shut, like he can feel the Rider approaching. Maybe he can.

Lacking choice, Daisy relents, “Try. You owe me that much.”

“Promise,” he says with a half-smile. He kisses away her scowl.

They dress quickly, silently. What else is there to say?

Coulson arrives just as she’s zipping up her top. With no preamble, she watches vengeance leave him to return home to roost.

She turns away as Robbie’s eyes begin to glow. She’s lost him, again.

[onlinekitsune]

hii! i saw your requests were open but please ignore if they aren’t :)

this would be for zen!

my brain is braining abt an mc that’s a kpop idol, and she’s kind of similar to wonyoung from ive? like she’s a really popular idol who’s known for being really elegant and pretty? But like behind the scenes she’s like super laid back to kind of cope with always having to be so graceful and perfect for cameras? how would zen do with an mc like that?

hiii!! so so sorry for getting to this late! i'm a bit rusty with writing but this is such a cute concept!! i really hope i did it justice.. thank you for entrusting me with it and i hope you enjoy! inspo taken by fallin' flower by seventeen (not proofread, sorry!!)

FALLIN' FLOWER

"I was living in a moment, but I met you and I realized that everything has a reason."

You let out a soft sigh, letting it drift away along with the breeze. You had your fair share of kdrama's here and there. You knew how filming could be, especially while putting up a persona. You leaned your body against the railing, looking at the lake in front of you. At least the universe was on your side, with your co-star requesting an abundance of breaks today. "Hey..." a soft voice approached beside you. Speaking of your co-star, here he was. Zen Hyun. Debuting at a small local theater as a musical actor to now becoming one of the most upcoming actors. And for a good reason too, he wasn't only handsome but incredibly talented for being self taught. "I hope I'm not intruding... I just wanted to check up on you."

You snapped back to reality, quickly turning towards him. You did a curtsy bow before flashing a small smile. "O-Oh! Yes! Please don't allow me to worry you, Sunbae. I hope you're doing okay as well!" you replied, fixing your posture. You clasped your hands in front of you, taken off guard. Zen tilited his head slightly and let out a small chuckle. You felt your heart race a bit, and the feeling of embarrasment rose to your cheeks.

"You can just call me Zen. You don't have to be so formal, we're co-stars now!" He smiled, before leaning against the railing. His gaze slid to the lake. You grabbed the railing, a bit unsure of how to proceed. "I hope you don't take this rudely but, you seem a bit... off today. Are you sure you're alright?"

You hesitated. You know the professional thing was to just suck it up and gracefully deny any negative feelings. Your agent had prepared you for this. But... there was just something about him. A warmth that not many people had. Especially in an industry like this. Despite all your training and better judgement, you let yourself go. You leaned yourself against the railing besides him, taking a deep breath, allowing the fresh air to fill your body.

"It's nothing too serious so don't worry too much." You began, still unsure why you're opening up to him. "You're an actor.. I- I'm sure you know how the spotlight is. You're expected to act a certain way because that's what you're told to do. I used to think nothing of it, really. But... lately it's been exhausting."

Your gaze met his, seeing him nod and listen to every word with care. You could tell with just a glance that he was digesting all your words, truly taking the time to listen and understand. Your heart fluttered. You weren't used to this level of empathy and it made you a bit nervous.

"Don't get me wrong, I-I'm like not a rude person or anything like that! You know... I just would like to be myself. But, what am I complaining about! I'm an idol. I'm appearing in a kdrama. I'm sorry.." You started to ramble, letting your nerves get to you. You turned your gaze away from Zen. Now truly embarrassed for saying your feelings. "I shouldn't have said.. all this. We only met recently. I apologize. i should-"

"Hey... Hey. It's okay" Zen interrupted, placing a hand on yours. "As easy as it sounds, the spotlight can be exhausting. Especially with putting up a persona like you have." Your eyes met his once again, now taking in how gorgeous he was. He really wasn't like the usual actor or any talent you've met before. "If it helps, I can get more breaks between filming."

"You don't have to do that for me, Zen.."

"It's nothing, don't worry." He added, moving his hand from yours. He gently tossed your hair, leaning back on the railing again. "I'd rather have you be comfortable. It makes everything easier and makes the show play out better."

"You're so different from the other actors, you know." You stated, leaning beside him on the railing.

"I-Is that a good thing?" he chuckled, glancing over to you.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way. It's just... you seem to care more about your... co-stars and staff. It's... refreshing. Sweet."

"I could say the same to you. You know how some idols can be behind the scenes. I'm glad we got paired together."

Your heart fluttered once again. He was just too good at making you feel comfortable to let your guard down.

"I hope you don't find this... too forward but.. I'd like to spend more time with you. I feel like it'd help our chemistry on stage and... it might help you feel more... yourself?" Zen suggest, turning more towards you. Despite his confident aura, you felt the slight bit of anxiety from him.

"Are you asking me on a date now?" You joked, letting a small smirk shift onto your lips. Zen's eyes widen, slightly panicking. He began to start saying something before you added more. "I'm joking! I would like that. It'd be nice to have more... genuine friends you know?"

You slighly nudged into him, as a warmth filled you. You were content. Happy even. Funny how a simple conversation could affect someone so easily. Before you were able to get too comfortable, the director called everyone back.

"Here," You said, handing him your phone. "I can text you my schedual when we're done filming and we can plan something?" He nodded and quickly typed in his number. As he handed your phone back, you gave him another grateful smile. "Thank you... again. For listening to me."

[lawlietscaramels]

Can we get Z,T,S and C with L please?

-🌜anon

death note reborn

also hello 🌜 anon! I think your ask is the next one sitting in my inbox and I'm excited to write it :)

I've mentioned it before I believe, but what brings L to a state of zen is rain. And again I'll mention I don't think it actually brings him that sense of calm and belonging unless he's somewhere small. A garden. A driveway. An onsen. I should draw L in rain. He likes the way each single drop of rain is its own individual part of the whole. He likes how they all "work together." He likes the sound. It reminds him of England.

L is terrified of very few things. He has fears, yes, I think he's scared of thunder and also of zombies, and of being unloved and forgotten. which is very likely, nobody noticed that L had died (he's still alive) and Light took over except for people who knew/had been told that he had died. the world only knew him as a detective not even a person and why do I want to make myself cry today, sigh. Anyway. The thing he's number one most afraid of is losing his ability to think and speak and communicate. So any virus that attacks the brain absolutely TERRIFIES him. He lies awake at night thinking about lyssavirus/rabies and listeria and everything else he's heard of (let's be honest L has a weak immune system the common cold could probably kill him). Any brain damage at all, anything related to it, terrifies him.

SEXUALITY & GENDER HEADCANONS LET'S GO,, okay. L usually just tells people it's none of their business, 1) because it's none of their business and 2) because it takes him a while to list it all (he'd go into more detail than I have). L identifies as: arospec (demiromantic), acespec (greysexual) and pan (he thinks from a technical definition he'd be omni, as he has a preference for men, but he prefers the pan label). When asked by someone what his gender is he'll inevitably reply "what the fuck is gender lol" — the wording because he thinks it's funny and the sentiment because he honestly does not care about gender. L is just L. He looks masc because it's just easier to keep going the way he was raised and he accepts he/him pronouns mostly but you could refer to him as anything and he wouldn't care. Would probably be surprised because he's accustomed to being called he/him but would not care. He'd also wear dresses and skirts and whatever if it was a more appropriate choice for the situation or weather n stuff. oops haha I wrote a lot.

Oh boy talking about L and the change questions is gonna be a lot. One of my favourite things to think about is L's inner conflict and how much he wants to change but is at the same time afraid of it. Iirc he mentions in canon that he knows his own methods aren't great but doesn't make any effort to change them. I think the main reason for that is that he's been brought up knowing how unjust the justice system is and being taught that it's okay for him to do bad things if it makes the bad people go away, i.e. the ends justify the means. So he's afraid he won't be as good of a detective if he follows the law he upholds. Watari probably doesn't help very much with that. But L DOES want to be a good person, otherwise he's a hypocrite and creating as many problems as he prevents. As for how he has changed, well, he went from a poor little boy to someone who was told their only purpose was their intelligence and raised to be a brilliant detective at the same time as his own individuality and life was destroyed and that's really sad to me. When I write L I hope to write him learning to be a person outside of his work. once again it's the Rie formula my dear OC there to let me rewrite everything for a happy AU. HELP I wrote even more for that one shhfhfhfnfgn.

[jodiespolaroids]

New Jodie interview. Please someone drop the name of her pup.

It's behind a paywall, so if you want to read it, it's below the cut!

It was a gamble that few actresses would have dared to take. After four years making her name as the charismatic psychopath Villanelle in Killing Eve, Jodie Comer rolled the dice — and changed her life.

Having not acted on stage since she was 16, Comer risked her growing reputation to star in a one-woman show in the West End. Prima Facie proved a sensation and transferred to Broadway. And last year the Liverpudlian won the most prestigious theatre awards on both sides of the Pond — an Olivier and a Tony — and, aged 30, entered a new era. The Com-era, perhaps?

Today she is a fully fledged film star, taking her first leading role in The End We Start From — a smart, bold post-apocalyptic indie drama about a mother (Comer) and her baby (not Comer’s baby). The film already has nine nominations for the British Independent Film awards, and Baftas should follow.

Comer is in a car with a lively dog when we talk via Zoom. She is in a black hoodie, with her long blonde hair loosely tied, and seems extraordinarily calm — except when the dog leaps across the screen. Her Zen is worth mentioning because the last time I saw her was when she prowled the stage with fear and fury in Prima Facie, playing a barrister who defends men accused of sexual assault before she is sexually assaulted herself. One woman going full throttle in defence of all women.

“My sleep was all over the place,” Comer says of her stint playing Tessa. “It’s tricky when you do something emotional. You think, ‘OK, it’s not real.’ But there is some part that tricks your body into believing that what you’re saying and feeling is a real experience. It becomes important to take care of yourself. With theatre it’s kinetic. You’re sharing space with 900 people.

“It’s … it’s tough. But clearly something I love putting myself through.” She pauses. “Yeah, I underestimated Prima Facie. Totally. I just didn’t know what to expect.”

It was not her first ordeal either. She’s drawn to gruelling roles, from Ridley Scott’s The Last Duel, in which her character, Marguerite de Carrouges, was the victim of a rape, to Help, the bleak Channel 4 care home Covid drama. There was also Free Guy, a video-games blockbuster with Ryan Reynolds, but when I ask if Comer is tempted to pick something else fun as a break from Prima Facie, she explains that having a laugh is not enough.

“I like to be in a difficult place,” she says. “A place of self-discovery. Where I feel challenged. With Free Guy that part of me that comes away from my work feeling that I had to dig deep was missing … I came away thinking, ‘Wow, I’ve had so much fun.’ And that should be enough. But I like anything that holds a mirror up to this human experience. It’s just what I’m drawn to.”

Which leads us to The End We Start From. The film is directed by Mahalia Belo and takes place in modern-day London, telling the tale of Mother (Comer), whose waters break just as Britain experiences mass flooding. Metaphors à gogo, but the film works superbly as an intimate study of how an individual deals with a global disaster. How can a parent protect a baby as society collapses?

Comer is barely seen on screen without a baby. The crew had to use several because strict rules mean each infant can only work for 20 minutes at a time. (There are agencies that expectant parents use to sign their unborn child up to a film company.)

We all know an actor should never work with children or animals, but a baby is a whole other, wriggly challenge. Comer really does nothing by halves. How hard is it to act with one? “It’s such a lesson,” says Comer, who is not a mother. Did it come naturally? “Oh God, no!”

“The smallest baby was eight weeks,” she explains, smiling softly. “At first my hands were visibly shaking. My younger cousins have grown up now, so I’m not around babies an awful lot. It felt like a huge responsibility. I thought, ‘Wow, they’re so fragile.’ But I became more comfortable, sometimes to my detriment! There are scenes where we needed a baby to cry but I was soothing him instead. The crew would shout ‘Stop!’” She pauses. “I was kind of falling in love with them.”

The film shows the thrill of being a first-time parent much more than the panic. As prep for Prima Facie Comer watched cases at the Old Bailey. What did she do for this? “My best friend had a baby before filming, so I was able to ask personal questions,” Comer says. “I also spent time with midwives — there is a birthing sequence and I wanted to know about the physicality, where you feel pain giving birth. Having not had a child myself, I wanted women to see the truth in what they saw.”

It comes as no surprise that Belo was inspired to direct her first feature film after giving birth during the pandemic. “Your whole body gets taken over by this beautiful thing,” Belo says about being a mother. “Every part of your body is different from then on and it’s not only that — all your relationships are different too. You’ve got this other sound going on, that’s about your children. I wanted to represent that.”

The End We Start From is a film so clearly made by a woman who has young children, you can almost smell the nappies. Post-apocalyptic films usually star a man walking in a desolate landscape alone with his thoughts, and a dog. So it is quietly revolutionary to focus on a woman and her newborn.

“I think so,” Comer says. “What I love is that it’s a woman who is the everyday hero — we always see men with a superhero quality facing this situation. But here it is a woman many will feel they know. She’s not scaling buildings, or jumping over bridges. The story is deep-rooted in her psyche and emotion. It’s refreshing.”

The film also grapples with climate change. “Endless amounts of rain — I can’t see anything out of the window …” Comer says with a sigh as she looks out of the car at a very wet Britain. Belo, who lives in east London, made the film as her neighbourhood in Walthamstow suffered unprecedented flooding. When she consulted flood experts, their conversations were bleak. “Sea levels are rising, rainfall is becoming more extreme. We are an island; things are going to go wrong and we’re not prepared. We know what’s happening.”

For some The End We Start From will just be a stirring story of the lengths that we go to protect our children. Others, though, will locate an edge that is common to so much of Comer’s work. It is another entry on a CV that is trying to make a difference. Does she think that art can actually change anything? “Absolutely,” Comer says. “When I read the scripts they provoked an emotion in me that felt important. I felt engaged and that’s the biggest thing now, isn’t it? To keep people engaged in what you’re saying, and so that you can change things. I witnessed conversations around sexual assault when working on Prima Facie and saw subtle shifts within the law.

“Women and men were telling me what that play had enabled them to do, whether it was to seek counselling or have a conversation with their family. That may seem like a very small change but it is mighty in somebody’s life. You can see what a profound effect watching a piece of art has on somebody. That means a lot to me.”

This desperation to make stuff that really matters is why Comer stands out. She also excels in the 1960s-set The Bikeriders, about gangs and masculinity, out in the summer, alongside Tom Hardy. If you were to put her in a bracket of skill and achievement right now, you could say that she is where Jodie Foster was as she entered her thirties. They share the sass, steeliness and spark that Foster displayed in the controversial courtroom drama The Accused — which deals with the subject of rape — a sort of prototype Prima Facie.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

David Hayward

* * * *

I continue, prattling on in the cemetery in the creeping dark. Here he is, after all—after all these years. I have a shawl wrapped around me and a streetlight nearby turns on. “I dried up after fifteen books,” I tell him. “One came after the other, crowded to get in line. Then nothing but the empty days on the portal and Covid burning up the sidewalks. My last book was about haiku.” I quickly drop that subject, afraid Hemingway didn’t care about haiku. I’m sure I repeated myself. Finally, I unwind as much as I can, and then there is nothing. But it is dumb clear, even with no revelation—it comes from me, not him: Write anyway. No ecstatic understanding. No big epiphany.

What did you think? I ask myself. You went to a writer for help. I was ignorant of a writer’s path when I was young and still hoped to escape, but I was married to it. Visiting Hemingway only drove that home. Like other marriages, you don’t know what you’re getting into until you stay and meet it, moment by moment. I think of the words of Suzuki Roshi, the Japanese Zen master, when someone asked him what enlightenment was: Seeing one thing through to the end. I guess that fit for anything you seriously take on.

[Writing on Empty: A Guide to Finding Your Voice :: Natalie Goldberg]

[kimhargreeves]

Deal With The Devil- Katana Man x Reader

Summary: You were the daughter of a powerful Yakuza until you're father was killed. Now you're seen with the Katana Man wherever you go, since both your families agreed that someone would look after you. You seem like a powerful woman doing your job, but Katana Man finds you weak when he knows that you aren't entirely powerful since you have a weakness, and that weakness is him.

(A/N: Why is literally no one writing on Katana Man?! The internet has disappointed me when I am craving for him, anyways I'm here doing gods work, or should I say the devil. Anyways, I am still not sure if this'll be just a one shot or turn into a short book. To any fans reading this, please let me know and thank you. Oh and one last thing what name should I use for Katana Man? Since it's kinda hard not giving him a name since reader will mention him a lot. I was thinking of a name like Kyo but let me know.)

"Let us pray for our fallen comrade, he wasn't only a comrade as we all knew..he was family. Both our Yakuza family have remained together through generations. Let us remain that way."

I remained silent and heard the last of the prayer  being done by my father's best friend, together they went through hell together, but today my only family member is gone. I remained with a stoic face and rested my hands together and continued to pray as I closed my eyes, I continued to fight back the tears.

Many men were inside the comfort of my home. My father's large home should I say. We all bowed our heads and slowly stood up. I glanced over at the picture of my father with candles lit around it and his ashes inside an urn.

He wasn't the only one we were all morning though, my father had gone out on a mission with his men, all were killed...

"I'm sorry for your loss, miss (Y/N)." People would say when they would see or make their way to me.

Most of them knew about me ever since I was born. I was my father's only and well loved daughter, I was quite spoiled when little, still was as a grown up..I was all my father had. I should feel upset, I mean I am...but all I feel is empty inside.

I made my way outside of the house and into the beautiful zen garden. I stood by the pond and watched the koi fishes swim around until they all soon began to disperse when droplets of rain began to fall on the pond.

Quickly it started to rain but it didn't bother me  in the slightest. I crossed my arms over my chest shivering just a little and that's when I felt the rain stop hitting my skin.

"You're going to get yourself sick." I heard a strong voice behind me.

The man behind me held an umbrella above me, I glanced back quickly and noticed him getting very wet, though it wasn't much of a deal since the large trenchcoat protects him.

I simply continued looking away and heard a small sigh coming from him. "My grandfather is deeply sadden by your father's loss. Your grandfather followed my grandfather and so on. You are now the only remaining member of your family."

Those words began to sting. I was about to tell him off until I turned around to look at him and saw him bowing a bit.

"My grandfather ordered me to take care of you, that was your father's last wish as well. From here on out, I am yours to serve and protect." He stood up tall and saw his stoic expression, but I swear I could see a glint in his eyes when he looked down at me.

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

In no time I began to recruit new men and make a name for myself an underground Yakuza group. I had many men come and go in a short period, some took me seriously and others didn't and would fawn over me or mysteriously disappear.

Today I decided to take things slow and rest. My personal bodyguard thought otherwise. It's been a few months since my father's was murdered but I've slowly started to live a normal life, or as normal as it can be.

I insisted on going to a new cafe that had opened up, I was told to not go but I could get scary at times, though that didn't seem to intimidate the tall man with black hair and sideburns.

"This is sooo delicious." I sighed as soon as a waitress came over with a strawberry milkshake and a few slices of pie and cake.

I opened my eyes and saw the man seated right in front of me simply hum. I poured and reached over for another straw and placed it inside the glass cup I was holding.

"Don't you want to try some?" I said blushing staring up at him.

"I should have stayed with my grandfather." I heard say to himself when he pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I do will we finally leave?"

I nodded my head and saw him take the drink from my hand and slowly drank a bit. "This is too sweet for my tastes."

I rolled my eyes. "What? You prefer alcohol and cigarettes, right?"

"Exactly." He placed the milkshake down and I felt his eyes on me when I began to drink. He scoffed and i noticed look away. He's getting angry again.

"Can I have the check please?!" I called out to a waitress. The poor man and woman who took our orders tried to get everything we didn't eat properly placed in boxes, both of them found my friend scary.

Thought the looks he was giving to them didn't help. He held the boxes in one hand when we stepped outside of the cafe/diner and saw a few people avoiding our path and not looking at us.

"I wish we could've stayed longer." I pout and reached out to grab his arm and held onto him, I felt tiny compared to his tall form.

I'd often grab his arm to try and get a reaction from him, it one time worked when he simply looked at me, giving me a warning look but said nothing, from then on I would do it every now and then but he'd do and say nothing about it.

Before when I was properly getting introduced into the whole Yakuza world, I would often see him with his grandfather and my dad planning and doing whatever needed to be done.

I never properly spoke to him that much when we met him, we would simply exchange a few words or looks. I never found him attractive until recently, I only saw him as a scary and intimidating man that would do whatever would be necessary for his family.

We got inside the car and I sat in the passenger seat with him next to me. I stopped him from starting the engine since I wanted to stay with him for a while longer.

"We're family, right? Would you do anything for me?" I asked. He looked directly at me this time.

"That depends on what my grandfather would say. Just know this, if you were to betray us I wont hesitate to kill you." He spoke determined.

I scoff getting annoyed by his rudeness and bluntness. "I know you're lying. Why did you murder those men who talked badly about me then? I simply ignored their words and moved on with my life but you-"

"Your father wouldn't have agreed with you."

"But he isn't here anymore. I make the orders now." I said sternly and glared at him now. I balled my hands into fists and felt my face paint red when he looked at me again.

He quickly looked away and threw the cigarette he was smoking away. "You're weak, (Y/N). I know what is going through your head and it isn't working, and it never will. The life of a Yakuza isn't finding love..."

"The stutters, blushing, the touches. It won't work. A Yakuza boss has to be powerful and strong, you aren't either of them. I'm simply protecting you because my grandfather ordered me. You have weaknesses and one of them is-"

"Just stop." I demanded glaring as I felt my eyes stinging from fighting away the tears.

It's scary and it hurts. I did grow to find him attractive and nice under his very cold exterior. His determination and protectiveness was what made me fall in love with him.

Now he knows how I feel about him. I still remember the time I truly began to see him differently and it was when we were on a mission, one of our rival gangs had gotten me, tied me up and blindfolded me, it wasn't long after I was rescued and was held close by him when he began to fight the me, that's when a bomb went off and we were thrown outside a window.

He had shielded me from the fall. He was badly hurt so I took care of his wounds even when he refused many times. I took great care of him and   took the tiny shards he had deep into his skin and patched him up.

The next day in return for him protecting me, I gifted him a handmade katana I ordered just for him. That day I almost shared my first kiss with him before he backed away...

I sighed and held back my feeling, now maming it seems like I didn't care and that he was right.

I don't like having contracts with devils, but having him around feels like being committed to one. Having a deal with the devil himself.

"I'm sorry, you are right. Let's not talk about this, okay? This was unprofessional of me anyways what kind of person would I be to be with someone like you?"

I joked and turned to look and him and was irritated when I saw him scrolling through his phone and looking at it. What the hell?!

"Hey!" I snapped at him and shouted, "Did you hear a word I just said?!"

I hummed to myself and furrowed my eyebrows together confused when I saw him staring deeply into his phone. "My grandfather is..dead?" I heard him ask himself.

I reached for my seatbelt and quickly placed on me, as soon as I did he turned the car's engine on and he began to speed through the streets and we made it to his family's house and saw his grandfather's men waiting for him outside.

[knucklegagging]

Fifty Shades of Chestpains is my Soul-Sister

Starting this morning off right (debatable) by triggering the fuck out of myself binge-watching this guy’s groovy channel on youtube (check him out!) Maybe if I’m thin enough, eventually he’ll make a deep dive on me. Lol jk, anonymous land is my sacred place. I would hate for anyone to be able to pin a face to my vent sessions. No one needs to ever know I’m the bitch who’s mom took naked photos of me and w my then-dad taught me how to purge, hand stuffed in my gaping mouth begging to go to bed, not being allowed to sleep in second fucking grade till I “got it all out like a good girl” because I had taken two benadryl instead of one by accident (their own fault, they should have been communicating instead of casually handing me pills to make me drowsy enough to sleep). Without tumblr I have to keep these thoughts inside of me. Tumblr is the only place where you can be honest about what happened and people don’t go “oh honey i’m so sorry that happened to you” *BARFS IN CHEESECAKE* because all of us are just making fucked up jokes trying to process through our own shit and laughing writing out “same” in the comment sections. Y’all are like the fake family I should’ve had. The ones who don’t act like assholes or make me swallow up the truth cuz they’re worried about their own dirty laundry getting dragged in the street if I acknowledge that they’d kick me out just to call the cops on me and pretend they were worried about me being a flight risk so that the cops would get me sectioned in the psych ward. Great job fucktards. From like age ten and up you already had maneuvered enough stupid pawns to get everyone believing I was the crazy one. As though your lies even make sense. Tell me, what child would run away from a healthy house? Wouldn’t the logical conclusion be that the child isn’t safe? It’s a fucking child. And when a kindergartener tells the teacher that mommy ‘s taking photos of them naked, don’t you think that teacher should have done something other than chastise the kid for bringing up inappropriate conversations that ought not be talked about?  I don’t care that she thought it was tasteful. How can a naked child be tasteful? Then she goes and sends the pics to people for Christmas like it’s totally normal to make a tiny child pose completely naked on a bed of scratchy tulle. I remember having to apply lotion every day for over three months to places that shouldn’t have seen tulle. I’m on a tangent of traumatic shit no one should ever need to read, especially this early in the morning. But, I guess my point is that it’s nice that I can be real. It’s nice that people don’t act like my mother was a saint here because she was a beacon of charismatic masking in more than one church.  And as fucked up as shit is, or has been, (these days nothing is wrong which is lovely but I’m still stuck processing the past over and over wondering when it’s going to break me and scared to leave my house because if I die and nothing majorly positive has happened to offset my life, then all myhopes of an eventual balancing scale are total bullshit) well... fuck. At least I have 50Shades of Chestpains (ironically my chestpains have been having fun ww me all morning and won’t seem to budge away) cuz he at least seems to get the complexities enough to try shining a light on all of these situations. And yes, of course it’s triggering, but mostly I think it’s a relief. It’s nice knowing that I’m not alone. It’s nice to have this zen garden of anorexia fuckery where video after video I can see and say “hey! that one sounds like me! I’m not the only one who’s stuck in this!” Like tumblr. I think we really get a bad rep like we’re trying to force each other to get sicker. I wish more people could understand that it’s not the goal, it’s an unpleasant side effect *SOMETIMES* and that the focal point in progress is being able to go “oh fuck thank goodness I’m not the only one. Thank goodness that for once I don’t have to posture. Thank fucking goodness there’s one place left where I’m allowed to be truthful without dumb people with perfect lives saying dumber things with imperfect timing. Tumblr is my butter. It makes me feel a little bit more heavy. A ;little less likely that I’m going to float away. You guys are awesome! xoxo

[the-good-projxct]

Feb 19th, 2024

10.22 pm Listening to Mipso - people change. Sitting in bed in Karen. 

Theres this photo downstairs in Karen, as you enter the kitchen. It is a photo of my dad, his cousin and his grandfather, my granddads dad. My dad is a teenager, early teens. I love that picture, it also breaks my heart. It is a reminder that my dad was once a boy. Theres something about that realization that literally brings me to tears while also making me happy. We meet our parents as adults and don’t give them the grace, realization that they too were once children. I’ve been telling KaMami lately to take care of baby her. We are grown now, she can focus on the child within. On this journey of seeking Gøod and finding God, I found my inner child. I found childish wonder. I see the world through childish wonder/curiosity. And maybe that’s why it breaks my heart to see my dad as a boy. Maybe it’s because I can see how life beat the childish wonder out of my parents. I see it in fleeting moments but generally, they are deep in the tide of life. They may stop and smell the flowers but they are not lying down in a field of wild flowers for a whole afternoon. And now I want to cry, LOL. Bruh. I’ve been wanting/needing to cry for a few days now. I have lots of reasons to cry, grief, change, and my period. But also, I have been stifling my crying because didn’t I just get the thing I really wanted? I recognize that multiple truths can happen, I can have it all and still grieve the loss of what was. I am feeling a bit anxious and this is a true test of Trust the Universe. I have no idea what 3 months from now will look like. There is no plan, no agenda for 5 months. And coming from the western hustle culture, this chillin’, this peace, this zen is anxiety inducing. I know I am to use this time to process, to understand, to feel, to be but most of all to Trust the Universe. This is God’s plan. I don’t get to control it, I only get to pray on it and be present. I think all of these feelings brewing are what are making me want to cry. Like I feel the cry just building up but it’s not coming out yet, it will be a big cry over many different things. Also being here on a Sunday and seeing how divided and at odds a lot of my extended family are is quite sad. I feel sad that this is the state of affairs. I don’t think most of us will get together once my grandma passes away. That will be it. End of an era. End of a family dynasty. I am kind through it all. I am present through it all. I am humble through it all. These are big Truths I am witnessing and I have to be honest with myself. I have enough wisdom and respect to move through without ruffling any more feathers than my existence and presence already does. Thank God the nature here is peak and we spent a lot of time outside yesterday. The only thing I want from family and friends is time. That is it. And my part will be, I will Love anyway. I will be Gøod. I will be a Saint. I won’t start the war that I could. In north America, I healed so I wouldn’t start a war with others. In Kenya, I came home healed so I wouldn’t wage war against my family. Similar. Same Same. I talked to Munene for like 5hrs yesterday to curb the awkward dynamics going on in the house. I miss him. Nairobi feels weird without him here. Like something is missing. I talked to Mureithi and Aunty Bome today. Then I went to the mall to buy pads, panadol and some snacks. I read for awhile, chilled with the elders. I am Gøod. I am Saint. Ase.

[dzpenumbra]

8/1/23

I can't begin to explain how drained I am.

I had a headache for most of the day. I just drank a cup of chai at like midnight (it's 1:15) because I realized I hadn't had caffeine all day and that's probably why I have such a bad headache. Now, that caffeine is kicking in, the headache is melting away, but I'm extremely aware of how utterly exhausted I am.

I woke up after 5 hours. I immediately put my headphones in and tried to go back to sleep. I stopped myself from trying after exactly 15 minutes. I checked my email and found messages from my therapist.

I had emailed my therapist before I talked to my former friend who offered me the graphic design commission. He replied. I read what he said as... kinda siding with graphic design and... "take what you can get"... I scanned his messages and got that message very clear from him. I replied emphasizing that design and art are not only different fields, they're entirely different workflows. I tried very hard to express how having someone go around and advertise me as a graphic designer doesn't help me as an artist, it would help me as a graphic designer. And, since the people who are looking for design are not typically looking for creative input... they're looking for someone who knows how to use software to make the thing they are envisioning... in some ways this actually damages my non-existent reputation as an artist.

I'm fucking tired of explaining this. But here I go again, on one last hoorah before I fucking finally tap out of this. Someone comes up to me and says "I'd love to help you out." They claim to "like my style", yet proceed to tell me how they avoid Instagram like the plague, when I had specifically asked them to check out my recent work before the meeting. Then, in the consultation, they have very clear ideas of what they want done and how... which leaves little room for "my style". My style, the one that he's familiar with... is realism, organic blending, colored pencil and pen work. What he commissioned... was a vector-based low-detail letterhead and t-shirt graphic for a welding company. TELL ME THAT'S NOT BULLSHIT. He doesn't want my style, he doesn't even want to take 35 seconds to google my style, or click the direct link to my portfolio that I gave him. I doubt if I asked him right now, he could tell me what my alias of over 10 years is, the one I've been using for my art for 4 years.

He claimed to want to help my career. And his way of helping is... to help himself. With a logo he needs. And "hey man, maybe people will see that logo and go 'that's pretty cool' and I'll send them your way!" <wink wink nudge nudge> Awesome. Nothing I'd like more than to do a logo for the trucking company you're doing specialty welding for. Let me see, what other projects do I have going right now... I'm doing hand-painted grip tape, I'm doing hand-made jewelry, I'm doing a hand-painted goat skull, I'm doing hand-painted customized clothing (hoodie, and soon pants too), I'm doing mini Zen gardens for artistic and functional and living home décor. Now, when you see my work, my "style"... does designing a fucking logo for a trucking company mesh with that? Are they my... target demographic?

Not only do I not know how to make logos... I don't really fucking care how to make logos. I don't. I care so little about making logos that I have been streaming and have had an online presence for my art for over 4 years and I have never once made a logo. Because I have art I can put in that spot instead.

Now... this anger, this frustration that's coming out here. This frantic need to explain and justify my position here. I found out what this is today. It was really hard for me to break myself out of it, and it's even hard to do now. I have this frantic beast in the back of my head saying "keep explaining, you're right there. Then THEY will understand. Then THEY will... help. And things will start working." It's... kinda panic. But rooted in trauma. A series of traumas that rocked me to my core; a lifetime, really. And I'm reliving it... right now. Right this moment. Those feelings, that franticness, that "I'm so close, I just have to find the right words".

It's fucking... I legit can't even put it into words. I handwrote 2.5 pages of business notes on 5 hours of sleep. I typed out monthly and weekly survival budgets, a budget of baseline survival expenses. Survival. That should've been a big red flag there.

I figured it out a bit too late, around 9:30 PM tonight. But all of these freakouts of like... It is exceptionally EXCEPTIONALLY rare that someone comes into my life and offers to help me. With fucking anything. And I was just like... "holy crap, this changes everything." And the dipshit offers to help me with shit that has nothing to do with my work, and clearly has not even looked at my work. Not only is that a bad friend, it's really a bad client. He didn't even do his research on who he was getting work done from, or quote a price first. He just dove right in and started shmoozing and bullshitting. And then shot one of my spirit animals with a .45 pistol with hollow-point bullets while on the phone with me.

So... since it's exceptionally rare that someone offers me help, I feel like I can't afford to say no. I'm in the middle of Bumfuck, Alaska, and a trade caravan is passing through. Can I afford to not stock up on food? It could be years before the next offer to help me. And then the help offer... it doesn't even fucking help my career. I, as a fine artist, art blogger, whatfuckingever the term is going to be... I'm not going to put my fucking logo for a welding company in my portfolio of fine art that I'm sending to goddamn galleries. It. Makes. Me. Look. Bad. And I'm not proud of it. It is, at most... partially my work, and most definitely not my vision.

I'm still doing the explaining thing... So yeah, I get panicked. I feel like I need to frantically explain, so they'll understand. So they'll get what I actually do. So they'll get what my career is. And then they'll go "holy shit, wow, I had no idea. That's fascinating! How can I help you?" And I'll start rattling off ways they can help me.

But... haha... BUT... They don't care. They don't. They're not a fan. "It's not my thing." "I don't like that website." "I don't have the time." "I'm not good with technology." Excuses are like assholes, everyone's got 'em and they're all full of shit.

The reality I've been avoiding is that... this guy doesn't actually care about me. He just knows I have integrity and I will get the job done, and won't rip him off... in fact, I'll probably just give it away to him for free, just like his ex-wife's S-tier tattoo design. Because of my whole monastic, people-pleasing, be-a-good-guy approach to life.

It all revolves around the idea of... support. That really meaning, at its core... social acceptance. Society (literally any person in society, ideally multiple) showing an interest in what I do and having a place for my contributions. And the reality is... I don't have that. I'm orbiting society. I'm barely even noticed. Both personally and professionally. It's rare for me to even experience eye contact.

So... when I rush to clean my whole house and mock up 6 prototypes overnight... and the dude makes up a bunch of excuses like "I don't want to look at a bunch of girls on multimillion dollar yachts pretending to be hot shit or something" as a way to exclude himself from pulling his phone out of his pocket and looking at ANY of my online media... so he can familiarize himself with what I do... The reality is very plainly, very simply... he doesn't care. And that is what it is. He is not a fan, he is not a friend, he's just making a practical business deal with an on-hand resource. And quantifying that actually, in a weird way, helps me ground and relax. It lowers the stakes, the gravity of the loss if I were to say "no".

I'm Tom Hanks in Castaway... And he's a boat that pulls up to shore, asks for directions, takes some of the castaway's food and fucking leaves. As things lie right now, he's in no way doing me a favor short of giving me money for services rendered, a service that I have never offered. That's not him doing me a favor, that's him offering me a job in a different field. But... I am doing him a favor. And it would be very smart for me to remember that I have the power in this situation.

God, I just keep sinking into that whirlpool. I wonder how visible it is. It's like I get two sentences in and I start explaining and justifying again, as though I don't already understand. THAT process. The... invasive pull of every thought stream back to that same concept... "HELP ME". And the survival instincts that come with it. "I'll be here forever." "I'll never make it." Like being stuck in purgatory. And the frantic, demeaning having to explain myself over and over to ears that are not quite not listening to me... but rather... listening to my contributions to the conversation as though I am a 7-year-old kid with a box of crayons at the grownups table at a family reunion.

That image fucking sums it up, in my experience. I don't even know how to put that into words, that feeling. Not quite humiliation... kinda degradation? Diminution? Infantilization? Oh fuck, yep, thank you Google for verifying it. That's it. Infantilization. And then I'm panicked and feverishly jawing like a 7 year old trying to tell them that Santa Claus is actually real.

The past several days of my journal has been full of this. It's clear as day. That. That's a PTSD response. I'm piecing it together. It's an emotional reliving of a life of related fucked up traumas. Really really fucked up things, that you really shouldn't do to other people, that happened to me. And when something similar to it shows its face? This happens. I can't sleep. I'm haunted for days. I fall asleep ranting to the ceiling. I wake up ranting to the ceiling. I come up with survival plans to provide a sense of security and safety.

I'm... so... tired. It's only 2AM and I can barely keep my eyes open. What this shit does to me is utterly savage. I'm so deeply grateful for the work I've put in to be able to identify it as it's happening now. And it really didn't take that much time for me to be able to go "oh fuck, I know what you are. I see you."

Where I need to be right now? Instead of the Past? Instead of the Future? Now. I need to be Here and Now. And that's what I did. I tapped out of the ambitious plan to finish the grip tape today and I decided to do some self-massage on my quads instead. I don't really know how to angle myself so my legs are relaxed to properly do it, but I did some and I feel much better for just... stopping the franticness and the freaking out... and just relaxing and doing something nice for myself. It helped.

So... I'm going to go to bed early. Because fuck it. Maybe I'll even watch a TV show in bed or something, I don't know. It's been ages since I watched a TV show or a movie. Because it's a nice, quiet, beautiful night. The temperature is not too hot, not too cold. The moon is full(ish). And one of my bean plants looks like it might actually make a full recovery! (The other sadly didn't make it. -_-) The world isn't all doom and gloom. There is peace here. Good lord, if it's one thing I'm insanely grateful for, it's that I turned my home into a place of peace, healing and inspiration. In a very dedicated way. Living in a space that nurtures life, in which I am cultivating lifeforms, has a very different feel to it.

Anyway, I'm gonna go do that. I just really felt like it was worth writing that, about catching myself in my flashbacks. Again, I had no idea that was what was happening, I was just feeling insanely strong emotions. So, that's a huge step forward. I even messaged my therapist back and apologized if I was intense and thanked him for his patience, and he knew, and seemed really relieved that I was able to figure it out myself. Good lord. That's so crazy. So much of mental health self-care is really, at its root, a very broad sense of self-awareness.

I could go on for ages. But I'm literally nodding off. Bye.