#society is supposed to be about taking care of each other

[illusionremember]

I understand that it's not always possible for someone to leave their job. Because they have rent to pay and food to buy, because they'd lose their medical insurance, because they have people depending on them. But please. Please, if you are ill or injured or unsafe in this way. Do everything you can to leave this kind of environment. Work is not worth your life. If your boss won't give you medical leave, quit if you can. Start looking for a different job at minimum, even if you have to stay in the meantime. Your boss is not your friend. Your company is not your family. If this is what you are facing, you need to get out.

This is why "eat the rich" is not a violent statement. Rich people literally kill others for their own profits. Any violence against rich people who do this is self defense.

This is also one of the many reasons why there are zero good cops. The nicest cop in existence would arrest someone for stealing to survive but would not arrest these greedy employers for killing for profit.

[wheneverfeasible]

Omegaverse AU where Steve presents as an alpha just like his father always wanted, just like everyone expects, just like he was supposed to. He exclusively dates betas, scoffing and saying omegas weren’t good enough for him. He said they were too needy, too annoying, too pathetic. He was an alpha.

He hates it.

The truth is that Steve always wanted to be an omega, always wanted to soft and taken care of, wanted to be pupped up, wanted to avoid the stupid knotheads that he was forced to surround himself with, forced to pretend to be. He never dated an omega because he wants to be one and wants desperately for another alpha to take him as their own.

Enter Eddie, an alpha unlike any other. He scorns alphas like Steve and Tommy and Billy and all the other knotheads who act like they’re so much better than anyone else just because of their secondary gender. He rants on top of cafeteria tables about it, has ever since he presented and actually had the other alphas try to talk to him at first as if he was one of them.

No fucking thank you.

Steve is…not enamored, but curious about the super senior. Nancy broke up with him, he and Tommy are sort of on the outs though still barely friends, and Billy has a one-sided rivalry for the crown Steve currently wore, not that Steve truly cared about it.

Blah blah blah, Steve propositions Eddie after watching him for a while, realizing that Eddie might just be the sort of alpha who would fuck Steve and let him pretend to be an omega for a little while, meanwhile Eddie thinks King Steve wants to start shit with him like a knotheaded alpha and is wary and lightly mocking at first, until he realizes what Steve wants.

Steve and Eddie become fuckbuddies, nothing more, where Steve gets to role play as an omega and have Eddie dominate him, who seems to know that Steve wants to pretend to be cared for rather than playing the slut role he’s been doing as an alpha, and Steve actually breaks down in tears the first time Eddie calls him “good boy” and “good omega” though they both pretend he didn’t.

And you see, bitching isn’t really well known yet. It’s not really a thing that’s spoken about amongst polite society. So neither of them clock it when, as their feelings for each other grow, Steve becomes a little more emotional, a little more irrational in regards to Eddie’s attention, and they use scent blockers and neutralizers all the time to keep their affairs secret, so they don’t notice Steve’s scent changing, or the fact that he’s starting to become more than just artificially wet, or his knot doesn’t really pop like it used to because they both steadfastly had ignored it for so long to play the role right.

And it’s just not known. It’s not something that’s really spoken about, so they’d never think about it.

So no, they don’t notice anything until it’s too late, until it happens, and Steve is suddenly thrown into a spontaneous heat after an intense basketball game or something, the final stages of his transition. There was too much sweating, too much testosterone, that the blockers and neutralizers don’t really cut it anymore.

Billy makes the winning shot as the heat hits, making Steve’s legs collapse under him as slick coats his drawers and shorts, dripping down his thighs. All alpha heads suddenly towards him as his new true scent bursts out, surprise on all their faces, even hunger on some.

Billy and Tommy both take a step towards him but are forced to stop by a growl that reverberates through Steve as if it were his own as the familiar scent hits him of blockers and tobacco and weed and leather and that stupid cheap shampoo/conditioner/body wash 3-in-1 that Eddie uses as strong arms wrap around him and dark hair cascades around him.

Because he’s there. His alpha. He’s always there, hiding in the corner or under bleachers or somewhere where Steve can’t see him and he’s always there because this stupid thing between them has become so much more than either of them ever expected and he’s so protective of his omega because Steve is his omega even when he was an alpha because he was always an omega even when he wasn’t biologically.

It isn’t ideal. It far from fucking ideal, but Eddie whisks Steve away in his arms, whispering those words of praise that used to only belong in their role play, but Steve is burning up and he can’t wait can’t wait can’t wait can’t wait can’twaitcan’twaitcan’tfuckingwait—

And Eddie pulls him into classroom, locks and bars the door with desks and chairs and whatever else, and then he’s there he’s there he’stherehe’stherehe’sthere.

Eddie wants to bite, wants to mark, wants to claim, but he knows now isn’t the time so all he does is help Steve through it while he’s all but delirious from the sudden heat rewriting him completely.

Afterwards, they will talk. They will confess. They will admit. They will acknowledge that they were his alpha, his omega, and had been for longer than either of them realized. They will slink to Eddie’s car, go to Eddie’s trailer, will wash off all scents artificial and other until the them, finally just them and they will find the truth in each other. They will find a love that thrived against all odds. A love that beat fate itself.

Eddie does eventually bite him, and Steve completes it with his own, and eventually Steve gets his and his alpha’s pups like he always wanted and he can bask in the knowledge that he was exactly where he was always meant to be, with an alpha that loves and cherishes him exactly as he is, with a pack both of his own pups and the pups he all but adopted as their babysitter and real friends he gathered along the way he never thought he would be lucky enough to have.

It’s not easy at first. Of course it’s not. Something practically unheard of happened in a small conservative town like Hawkins. There were bigots and hateful people galore, and at times it even tested Steve and Eddie, but they always survived and always came out on the other side hand-in-hand and triumphant in their growing love.

They know that the best things in life are worth fighting for. And they vowed to never stop fighting. For themselves, for each other, and for everyone and everything they hold dear.

And they have fantastic sex along the way.

[flamingtouya]

𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐩 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞) —

pairing: dabi + f!reader

word count: 4381

cw: getting to know each other (against your better intuition), flirting, bad flirting,some explicit language but nothing too bad, no quirk AU, dabi commits a crime or two

summary: In which Dabi meant to text Toga instead of a random stranger. But these things happen, and you were never one to shy away from troublesome men. This whole thing is told entirely through text messages.

a/n: check out my AO3 for different formatting! :)

Mar 02  10:07 PM

Unknown: Grab bleach while you’re out Unknown: And paper towels

You: who is this??

Unknown: So funny

You: u got the wrong number my guy 

Unknown: Shit Unknown: You don’t happen to have some bleach at your disposal rn? 

You: try the convenience store You: where’s the body at, anyways

Unknown: Ohara street by the fitness park, you should come check it out

You: sounds enticing You: i’ve always wanted to be on a true crime podcast

You: sort of expected myself to be the alive one though

Unknown: I was taught that women tend to be smart about stranger danger and stuff Unknown: You're out to prove me wrong

You: how’d you know i’m a woman? 🤨

Unknown: U sound cute Unknown: And men don’t listen to true crime

You: that’s so sexist You: and correct You: you'd do numbers on reddit

Mar 03 00:16 AM

You: hey don’t leave now

Mar 03 00:34 AM

Unknown: Had a body to take care of

You: you didn’t wait for me? :(

Unknown: … Unknown: Are u fr

You: ofc not You: i don’t hang out with edgelords

Unknown: Whatever u r probably boring anyways

You: entertaining enough for u to keep texting me

Unknown: We all have our moments of weakness 

Mar 03 01:09 AM

Unknown: So wyd

You: you don’t have anybody else to bother?

Unknown: I do Unknown: I want to bother you tho

You: damn, what’d i do to deserve this

Unknown: Is that a complaint

You: i have uni tomorrow and ur buzzing keeps waking me up

Unknown: Mute your phone, stupid 

You: can’t mute unknown numbers

Unknown: Save this one then Unknown: Or block me idc

You: what name should i put it under

Unknown: Dabi 

You: lmao i knew you were an edgelord

Dabi: Stfu

You: good night to you too

Mar 03  07:58 AM

You: fuck

Mar 03 3:56 PM

Dabi: Did you miss me that bad 

Mar 03 4:32 PM

You: i overslept and am blaming you entirely

Mar 03 5:19 PM 

Dabi: Sucks to be a useful member to society

You: why what do you do

Dabi: I'm actually a bit of a part-time freelancer, you regular uni folk just wouldn't get it

You: freelancing around ohara at 1 in the morning sounds like the truly fulfilling purpose we all long for You: did you just get up

Dabi: Hey now  Dabi: Yes  Dabi: I’m still in bed technically, looking at the ceiling fan is so interesting when I don't want to move a muscle

You: you are everything I am jealous of

Dabi: I promise you it’s not that good 

You: first time a guy’s been honest right away. i applaud u

Dabi: Omg no way 

Mar 03 5:40 PM

You: no way what

Dabi: No way you said something witty 

Dabi: Maybe you’re fun after all

You: i’ll have u know that deep down, i’m just a fragile being trying to make it thru this bitch of a world, running on fumes and caffeine all while chasing a childhood dream that i'll never be able to reach anyways because of my parents' expectations of me crushing my soul

Dabi: Damn, being vulnerable already 

You: your turn

Dabi: I’m not sad. My life is great and my parents never expected anything of me

Dabi: That was a lie 

You: so you’re a liar

Dabi: I suppose I might be

You: that counts as being vulnerable. i’m so proud of us. <3

Mar 03 9:12 PM

You: you probably have daddy issues

Mar 03 11:34 PM 

Dabi: Mind your business 

You: so i’m right

Dabi: Nosy sounds more like it

You: that’s a yes then

Dabi: When I tell you he SUCKS so bad 

You: LMAO You: i’m guessing you don’t particularly like your family then

Dabi: It's not the type of stuff I'd tell anybody, especially not to some nosy individual whose number is one or two digits off

You: alright i’ll stop digging You: wait how old are you You: am i talking to some 50 y/o dude You: please no

Mar 04 00:02 AM

Dabi: Chill I’m 48

Mar 04 00:06 AM 

You: say sike right now You: if u rly are then i’m half your age

Dabi: You thought Dabi: Are you actually 24 tho

You: give or take a few days lol

Dabi: When’s your birthday 

You: do you want my social and tax numbers while we’re at it

Dabi: Stfu I wanna see if I’m older 

You: 🤨 You: it’s at the end of this month

Dabi: Baby 

You: are u flirting with me or insulting me

Dabi: Can’t I be doing both 

Mar 04 06:30 AM

You: love me a guy who can multitask You: did you ever get your bleach and paper towels

Mar 04 11:11 AM

You: it’s 11:11 make a wish

Mar 04 2:02 PM

You: my wish is that you’d commit to a humane sleeping schedule

Mar 04 2:59 PM 

Dabi: Anybody hear sum 

You: i heard you’re a lazy bitch You: who doesn’t even do his own grocery shopping

Dabi: Maybe I do. Maybe I got the bleach all on my own like a big boy

You: X

Dabi: What's that mean

You: X for doubt You: it’s a meme

Dabi: Here I thought we were about to get spicy 😔

You: ew

Dabi: I was joking  Dabi: …unless 

You: has anybody ever told you that your flirting is immaculate

Mar 04 7:10 PM

Dabi: What do you study 

You: are you trying to find out my location

Dabi: Let it be known I’m terrible at geography and if I wanted to stalk you I'd already be on it

You: that’s a consolation You: forensic science You: i actually can’t wait for the semester to be over bc my professor is one of the most annoying individuals i have ever had the displeasure of meeting

Dabi: So you do have bleach 

You: never said i didn’t

Dabi: What do I have to do to make the list of annoying individuals. What's my current score

You: we haven’t met You: and i’m not sure if i’d survive u

Dabi: You have a point, I'm super nice tho

You: bet You: are you handsome You: asking for a friend You: the handsome ones are usually more annoying

Dabi: I'll say I’m frighteningly unique-looking 

You: ...well played

Mar 04 10:09 PM 

Dabi: My boss is making me do errand work in the morning like I'm some kind of functioning human being with principles Dabi: The next piercing I’m getting is a lobotomy 

You: thought you were “freelancing”

Dabi: Freelancing only gets you so far. You'll understand when you're my age

You: can't imagine what the back pain must be like You: do you have a tongue piercing 👀

Dabi: Perhaps I do

You: u r so mysterious You: tell me an opinion 

Dabi: Mint ice cream makes my teeth feel weird 

You: that’s not an opinion 

Dabi: Alright, more foods should have mint in them. And coriander. I want to make things inedible for 80% of the human population

You: nvm keep your opinions to yourself 

Mar 05 02:26 AM

Dabi: I've gotta burn this number. Txt u in a few 

Mar 05 05:16 AM

You: what are you, some kind of druglord This message could not be delivered.

You: I knew it This message could not be delivered.

Mar 0512:03 PM

You: ayo are you still there This message could not be delivered.

You: this is only funny if you come clean right now This message could not be delivered.

Mar 05 4:16 PM

You: "text you in a few" minutes? hours? days? This message could not be delivered.

You: just know that if it takes to long i'll forget about u This message could not be delivered.

You: won't even miss u This message could not be delivered.

Mar 06 09:00 AM

You: hello is this thing on This message could not be delivered.

Mar 07 3:15 PM

You: my social security number is 6007 0023 6799 0324 This message could not be delivered.

Mar 07 8:46 PM

You: eggs, vinegar, panko, sprite, sliced ham, parmesan, deodorant sencha if they have the good one ground pepper, lemon juice This message could not be delivered.

Mar 08 04:44 AM

Unknown: Am I still the man of ur dreams

You: I'm killing you You: violently

Unknown: I was hoping softly Unknown: With your song

You: are these messages being monitored You: am i a suspect

Unknown: If they were, could I write that I'm a ruthless baby killer anti-government fuck the police pro abortion the prime minister is an idiot bomb. bomb at the airport, terrorism, detonate Unknown: I guess now they are

Dabi was added as a contact.

You: just when i thought i'd have to find another witty asshole with a tongue piercing

Dabi: Aw you missed me Dabi: Does my tongue piercing make me hot be honest

You: what are my chances of getting an explanation for the past few days You: are u a murderer fr, that would be so cool You: i totally didn't use our abandoned chat as a grocery list btw

Dabi: The only thing I slay is pussy 😎

You: somehow i have doubts about that statement You: animal abuse is no joke

Dabi: I'm thinking of a number between 1 and 100, if you guess it correctly I'll tell u everything

You: 69

Mar 08 08:21 AM

Dabi: It was 72 Dabi: Because you were so close I'll give u one free question. But I want another one in return

You: you're a dirty little gremlin who plays dirty little games You:: do i get to ask a follow-up question

Dabi: No

You: in that case You: which of the following activities did you partake in? 1.) vandalism 2.) drug dealing 3.) drug trafficking 4.) violent crimes 5.) violent crimes that resulted in the death of one or more individuals 6.) assisting someone in a violent crime 7.) assisting someone in a non-violent crime 8.) theft 9.) robbery 10.) hate crimes against a minority 11.) politically motivated acts of defiance 12.) consumption of illegal substances 13.) running and/or hiding from law enforcement 14.) domestic terrorism 15.) human trafficking 16.) money laundering 17.) having a good time

Dabi: What the fuck Dabi: What is this, a multiple choice? Dabi: 1, 4, 6, 7, 8, 13 Dabi: My turn Dabi: What's your favourite food

You: fr, just like that You: that's your one question out of everything you could ask? am i really that boring

Dabi: I ask what I ask

You: spicy miso ramen with minced pork You: can we go back to the part where you ran from law enforcement

Dabi: Don't we all have demons that we run from Dabi: Mine are just a bit more persistent

Mar 08 10:52 AM

You: i want another question

Dabi: If you come up with one that's not related to the past few days, go ahead

You: fine i'll take it You: have you ever been caught and gotten in legal trouble for one of your… dubious activities

Dabi: Yeah

You: …and?

Dabi: That's another question. Gonna trade?

You: fine

Dabi: When I was 16, two Officers Of The Law 🐷 caught me dumpster diving behind a 7/11 Dabi: The dumpster diving wasn't the crime but because it was on private property they charged me with trespassing

You: damn, that's a lot of truth from u in just two sentences You: i wanna know ur tragic backstory so bad

Dabi: You could try to get me all sentimental for the 6 minutes after really good sex before the post nut clarity sets in

You: uh huh, taking notes You: anyway. you get one question. think hard

Dabi: If you couldn't have minced pork on your ramen, what would your second topping choice be

You: you're impossible

Mar 08 1:27 PM

You: tori karaage or extra ni-tamago i guess

Mar 08 2:23 PM

Dabi: Doesn't the Karaage lose its crispiness if it's in the broth for too long Dabi: I wouldn't know

You: please let me recommend you a good ramen place, you seem like you'd need it

Dabi: You have no idea. Take me out

You: like romantically? or are you asking me to murder you

Dabi: I love surprises

You: i just laughed out loud in the middle of my lecture

Mar 08 7:18 PM

Dabi: Need your forensic expertise for a sec

You: …oh no

Dabi: It's a purely hypothetical scenario

You: alright lay it on me big boy

Dabi: If a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person were to climb over a 4,60 meter high fence that has electrical wiring on it Dabi: What would the most likely way for them to die be?

You: this is not forensic at all You: how strong is the electricity You: is there a way to shut it off You: where would you hold onto the fence You: can it be damaged

Dabi: Not me, a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person

You: where would THE 176 CM TALL AND 67 KG HEAVY PERSON HOLD ONTO THE FENCE

Dabi: The only points that provide decent grip surface are the hooks holding the wires in place

You: so the most likely way to die would be electrocution You: will that be all

Dabi: How would one determine whether the electricity has been properly shut off Dabi: In the theoretical scenario that you couldn't get close enough to hear

You: the 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person should tap the wiring from the bottom with the back of their hand You: that way their fingers curl downwards and not around the wire You: so the person won't DIE from ELECTROCUTION

Mar 09 00:08 AM

Dabi: Excellent Dabi: Gonna do some field research Dabi: Will report back in maybe a day

Mar 09 08:01 AM

You: i'm gonna be so mad if you die before you've had decent karaage This message could not be delivered.

Mar 11 6:10 PM

Unknown: So it turns out that the person did not have to climb the fence after all. Pliers are such useful tools Unknown: Thanks for the electricity tip tho

Mar 11 6:39 PM

Dabi was added as a contact.

You: you're so hot when you're alive 

Mar 11 9:14 PM

Dabi: Do u think I'm a catch 😏

You: judging by the way law enforcement is trying to get their hands on you, i'd say you're pretty slippery

Dabi: The slipperiest Dabi: You couldn't handle me

You: i'd trap you using cheese and a paper box  You: put you in a jar and turn you into spicy miso broth 

Dabi: Would you hold the jar tight at night and tell me everything's going to be okay 

You: of course 

Dabi: I'm liking this scenario 

Mar 12 01:07 AM 

Dabi: Ever thought about what Mint Karaage would taste like

Mar 12 01:23 AM

You: i need u 

Dabi: Tell me more

You: to shut your mouth

Dabi: Are you trying to romance me

Mar 12 07:15 AM

You: i'm actually so upset right now  You: can i vent

Mar 12 07:27 AM

Dabi: Listening Dabi: Am I gonna have to get the tissues out

You: you're not empathetic enough for that 

Dabi: How would you know 

You: call it a woman's intuition  You: i just need someone to bother about my hot girl troubles

Dabi: Let's hear it girl  Dabi: Men ain't shit 💅

You: damn right they aren't You: but unrelated to that You: i ran out of my medication a few days ago and thought if i stretched the remaining 3 pills to last me 6 days i'd be able to make it till the end of the week  You: now my doctor's office is closed and i can't seem to get an appointment anywhere You: and i'm super jittery and on edge and almost had a panic attack just trying to make coffee

Dabi: What type of medication 

You: Ativan You: it's prescription only

Dabi: Nothing is ever "prescription only" 

You: i'm not gonna try some experimential backalley drug You: just feel like dying rn

Dabi: Who said anything about backalley? You actually came to the right guy for this  Dabi: What's the name of the nearest druggery 

You: ...fukuju pharmacy

Dabi: So I've been talking to a Setagaya girl 

You: only moved here for uni, hate to disappoint if ur expecting a wealthy maiden 

Mar 12 10:02 AM

Dabi: Don't you feel like getting a snack from the vending machine  Dabi: Specifically the one next to the pharmacy  Dabi: A bag of skittles sounds nice, doesn't it?

You: ? ? ?

Mar 12 10:34 AM 

You: did you commit a crime for me  You: how did you get your hands on actual fucking Ativan this fast

Dabi: I don't kiss and tell

You: did you follow me home  You: is this how i die

Dabi: You make it so hard to be nice to you Dabi: What do you think I am, a creep

You: if you were here i'd suck you off so good rn

Dabi: Whore Dabi: (Respectfully)

You: lmao ur right You: thank you for real though

Dabi: Stfu

Mar 12 1:33 PM

Dabi: Do u like cats

You: yes

Dabi sent an image.

Dabi: Noodle thieving menace 

You: 🥹 You: that has got to be the fattest street cat i’ve ever seen

Dabi: He’s hella fast 

You: how does it feel to be the one chasing the culprit for once

Dabi: Not nearly as thrilling as being the one committing the crime 

Mar 13 00:00 AM

Unknown: Congratulations! You have been selected as an eligible member for a free trial of Osaka Daily Post. Unknown: If you would like information about your benefits, reply 'BENEFIT' Unknown: If you would like to stop receiving these messages, reply 'STOP' 

You: i know it's you shithead

Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 

You: this is the unfunniest you've ever been ngl

Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 

You: you're truly one of the most annoying individuals in my life

Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 

You: STOP

Unknown: LMAO you thought

Dabi was saved as a contact. 

You: i'm reconsidering if the tongue piercing is really worth it 😤

Mar 13 04:55 AM

Dabi: Any particular reason why you chose forensics 

Mar 13 06:09 AM

You: i've always admired criminals but been to scared to become one You: and if i know about psychotic assholes it might help me to steer clear of them, or so i thought

Dabi: Is it working

You: evidently not

Dabi: Use me in ur thesis  Dabi: I'll be your lab rat

You: nah you're more beneficial to me when you're not stuck behind bars You: what do you have me saved as in your phone

Dabi: I don't save contacts  Dabi: Especially not yours  Dabi: You mean nothing to me 

You: aww do you know my number by heart, that's adorable You: i'm kinda genuinely impressed at how persistent you are at bothering me, it's almost like you like me or smth

Dabi: No fr though lmao if anybody finds my phone you'd be on a list

You: do u delete these chats

Dabi: Always

You: that's so romantic You: admit it you're actually a softie

Dabi: Would that make you more interested in me  Dabi: Then I'm the softest 

You: what do i need to do to make you the hardest

Dabi: ... Dabi: There's absolutely no correct way for me to respond to that  Dabi: You've left me speechless 

You: 🥵🥵

Dabi: What's your worst quality  Dabi: Besides being an irresistible smartass  Dabi: *irritating 

You: was that a freudian slip You: you're so obsessed with me it's adorable

Dabi: Proving my point so diligently 

You: you don't seem like the kind of person who would use words like 'diligently' You: i'm rather talkative at times You: to the point where it gets unbearable to listen to me

Dabi: I never would've guessed

You: what's yours? You: besides the obvious

Dabi: Still putting up with you 

Mar 13 7:45 PM

Dabi: Wyd 

You: i burned my rice a little You: but it's edible

Dabi: Don't you have a rice cooker? Who raised you 

You: my very strict but sweet and committed grandmother who made the best teriyaki salmon in the whole world You: i'd kill another human being to eat her home cooked food one more time

Dabi: So your parents ain't shit either 

You: eh, they're alright You: they're Business People overseas and aren't around a whole lot, means i get my own place though You: so i can have visitors at any desired hour 😏

Dabi: Omg sick Dabi: Me next

You: it was implied

Mar 13 11:11 PM

Dabi: Ok but do u actually wanna meet up sometime  Dabi: No strings attached ofc 

You: i'm down

Dabi: What if I'm a creep after all

You: if anything, it means i won't have to attend my lecture about carbon dots tmrw

Dabi: I can't tomorrow  Dabi: What about the day after Dabi: I'll give u my credit card info if it makes you feel more safe, don't bother trying to buy anything with it tho, you'll be disappointed

You: you may not show it a whole lot, but are you actually a considerate person? You: the day after sounds good

Dabi: Preem

You: oreryu shio ramen, right by harajuku station You: about time you had some good karaage You: my treat You: unless that's too far away for u

Dabi: I would fly across the world for u Dabi: Yes Harajuku works fine

Mar 14 08:49 AM

You: how will i recognise u You: what do u look like

Dabi: As my dad once said. I'm impossible to miss 

You: i laughed

Dabi: Guess it was all worth it then  Dabi: Do tattoos scare you

You: i was gonna ask cause there's no way you got only a tongue piercing and nothing else You: stand there with your tongue out

Dabi: Shouldn't we at least get to know each other before 😳

You: don't get any ideas  You: i don't intend to fuck u You: ...for now

Dabi: That's a relief, I thought I might have to file a restraining order afterwards 

Mar 14 1:42 PM 

Dabi sent an image. 

Dabi: If u see this guy u can still run the other way 

You: hhh fuck You: are u trying to intimidate me You: how do you have so many tattoos but no bedframe

Dabi: Cut me some slack, I just moved into this place 

You: fair warning i'm not as hot as u

Dabi: Bet 

You sent an image. 

Dabi: Why do women always lie. I thought you were better. I thought you were different

You: 😳 You: i'm actually worse

Dabi: We're such a good match

You: don't get ahead of urself. u r still a guy with no bedframe

Dabi: Please shut up

Mar 14 4:16 PM

Dabi: To be clear I'm not bringing flowers or anything  Dabi: And I'm actually willing to let you pay this time lol 

You: you have such a unique way with words 

Dabi: A bit tight on money rn but I'll pay u back some other way 

You: can we make that the first line in our sextape  You: dw i said it's my treat and i mean it You: does that make you feel emasculated

Dabi: Who would I be to say no to free food tf Dabi: If there's a next time I can take you out for drinks  Dabi: Nothing fancy but an old friend of mine owns a bar downtown and his girlfriend mixes a killer mule 

You: if you're gonna poison me after gaining my trust over my favourite food i will be incredibly sad 

Dabi: Give me some credit here. I'm trusting u to not rat me out to law enforcement 

You: you're giving me ideas You: is there a bounty on your head

Dabi: I'm not that important 

Mar 14 9:44 PM

You: so you're just too good to get caught

Dabi: Both flattering and factually correct Dabi: For the record I've never harmed anybody that didn't deserve it 

You: thanks for clarifying  You: i feel so safe now 

Dabi: Anytime  Dabi: If you're having second thoughts lmk before 10 am so I won't spend time getting ready for nothing 

You: 10 am is crazy  You: u r so vain 

Dabi: Alright then I won't 😔

You: i take it back You: be pretty for me

Mar 15 5:30 AM

You: can't sleep 

Mar 15 7:12 AM

Dabi: How the turntables  Dabi: Are you alright

You: yes  You: it's the good kind of sleepless 

Dabi: It's fine if you're having second thoughts, I won't hold it against you at all  Dabi: Just texting like this is nice too

You: fuck no i wanna meet the man behind the screen You: the myth, the legend, the crimelord himself 

Dabi: I'm never showing consideration for ur wellbeing ever again 

You: should've ghosted me before i got attached

Mar 15 9:54 AM

Dabi: Last chance to bail gracefully  

You: you make it so tempting 

Dabi: Getting out of bed then 

You: it's not a bed if it doesn't have a bedframe

Dabi: Shut, and I mean this in the gentlest way possible, the hell your mouth

Mar 15 12:08 PM

Dabi sent a location pin.

Dabi: Is this the place

You: that's the one  You: be there in a few minutes 

Dabi: I'm waiting outside 

Mar 15 12:13 PM

You: omg i think i see u You: im shy

Dabi: U literally have so much blackmail material on me 

You: give me a second You: alright I'm coming over This message could not be delivered.

[soapybutt17]

Too Sweet For Me

Summary: It was the annual Military Ball, the fifth one since you and John have been married in secret. With his new promotion as Captain, meant a whole ball park of responsibilities he was still getting used to—but nothing gets to him more than the mere sight of you, his beautiful darling in the dress he always loves. It was also something to prepare for with the new changes that came to this year’s ball. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Kate Laswell. Word Count: 2,190 Chapter Warnings: None. Author's Note: this was also supposed to be for @glitterypirateduck's O'Captain challenge but my appendix had other plans for me this past few days. Lol.

Inspired by this song (obviously)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open || Join My Taglist

“Darling.” You couldn’t help but smile at your husband’s pained groan.

With a red backless dress, you know you would turn heads with your outfit and even more certain that your husband would be killing a few men if you weren’t too careful about him.

“Behave.” You pulled away from him as soon as you felt his hands hold onto the small of your exposed back. You turned to face him, seeing him so handsome in his ceremonial uniform, an upgrade since his new promotion.

“I don’t think I can see myself behaving with you looking so ravishing.” He muttered approaching you again and pulling you into another kiss, allowing him this one time since you have yet to put your make up on. “Will this be a problem for tonight?” He playfully warned.

“If you keep your hands to yourself it won’t.” You playfully pointed out pecking him on the lips one last time before turning your attention back to your vanity mirror to put on your makeup. “I’m surprised that you actually plan on coming to this year’s event. I’d expect you to just stay home after the last mission.” You pointed out.

Behind the bravado and the handsome uniform your husband had on, was a broken but healing man that just got back from a mission. A few scrapes and bruises you all know too well were hidden perfectly well, but the black eyes was something that would take more than an ice pack and makeup to actually cover.

“Better to be there to see what those muppets have planned.” He grumbled.

You had accidentally let it slip that there was going to be an auction for this year’s event and you had volunteered to be part of the auction. A simple date that you were certain meant absolutely nothing but it was for a great cause and you couldn’t really fault them with.

Your husband was still apprehensive about the fact, especially knowing that no one was made aware of your relationship to each other. Everyone was given the fact that you were both good friends that had been on countless missions together. It was nothing but friendship between the two of you if you were ever spotted in town together even when the both of you knew it was something more.

“It’s just one date, even Kate is joining along.” You tried your best to reassure him but it wasn’t happening whatsoever with the deep frown resting on his lips.

“Just because I agreed to this doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.” He muttered under his breath, finally resigning by your decision, which you were thankful for. No need for you to try to convince him with anything.

“You owe me for this. I need some kind of motivation for tonight not to blow someone’s head.” He muttered.

And you spoke too soon.

“How about a day or two in that ritzy cabin you’ve been pestering me about for weeks now.” You offered.

One thing you truly hated was being too out of touch with society if you could avoid it. You have to do it for work, you weren’t so keen on doing it in your personal time if you didn’t have to. But your husband just was a recluse when he wants to be and this was one of those many instance that he will have his way.

“Deal and the ring stays on so they know you’re mine.” He muttered.

You smiled, lifting your hand up for him to see the sparkle of your engagement and wedding ring still nestled on your finger. Even without him saying it, you wouldn’t even dream of removing it.

~

The newly promoted Captain John Price should have been at the top of the world because of his new title, but it was far from the reality of it as he watched his beloved wife continue to mingle amongst both officials and fellow soldiers. It still shook him to the core how someone like you could command yet bring comfort to anyone that was privileged to be in your presence.

But that was just what made him love you so much. How someone like you, a Lieutenant to his own position as a Sergeant would never once use your position to demean him or treat him as anything less than you were. Some may say your call sign as Rookie to be an insult, a way to make you less than what you truly were, but you proved time and time again that it was a reassurance to anyone lower than you that you will stand on equal footing as them if the need arises especially on missions.

“Rookie’s already stealing the spotlight.”

John turned his attention to one unfortunate woman he had the misfortune of meeting in his life that turned his whole world upside down. Kate Laswell was an intelligent woman—far too much for her own good at times but she was the best of the best in her line of work. She was one of the main reasons why he was placed in a mission that ended with him finally climbing the ranks.

“As she should.” John agreed, subtle in his comments as to avoid anyone, especially Laswell from thinking anything was going on between the two of you.

“I still can’t believe she refused the promotion.” She continued taking a swig at the whiskey she was cradling, only bringing a craving for one in John himself.

“I’ve heard. I don’t think she’d be a good fit with the paperworks from the looks of it.” He added.

Of course he knew the very reason why you had refused the promotion on your own end. You were in all accounts a better fit than him to become a Captain, a rank that had been a well-deserved position for everything you’ve done but every single time the topic would be brought up you had threatened retirement or AWOL if anyone pushes. You never truly saw yourself as someone that would be working behind the desk, you couldn’t help and navigate dealing with officials, you admit you were never built for such capabilities.

“I believe she is. You should have seen her chew on Shepherd during the last mission. She’s got guts and a heart that not something you see in the field often.”

He nodded, that was what made you special. He watched you now begin a lengthy conversation with the well-known and very much feared soldier Ghost. How you had been the only one to hold a conversation and not trembled at the sight of the monster of a killing machine.

“Why am I not even surprise with her.” He chuckled turning his attention away from you and turning towards Laswell. “So, are we just gonna spend the entire night talking about Rookie?”

“That’s not much of an issue for you Captain.” Laswell smirked knowingly.

“Will I ever live that down?” He questioned, jokingly.

He was once again reminded of the time in his drugged state where he was delirious enough to propose to you after a mission gone wrong. To many it was just him too drugged from painkillers but for you it was an intentional proposal that you accepted once you were alone.

“You’re never gonna escape the allegations, John. I will never allow it.” Laswell smirked finally excusing herself when the MC has begun.

He made his way to this designated table, his eyes always following you. He watched as you made your way backstage to prepare for the auction later on tonight. It brought the never ending dread in the pit of his stomach as the staff began distributing the auction paddle around, accepting his own without an ounce of hesitation.

It will be a long night that much he has come to realize.

~

“One Thousand!”

You had faced so much trials and tribulation during your career in the military. The vile and often times immoral acts that was placed against you during interrogations and kidnapping, but nothing in your life could have given you more shame than to be standing in front of the stage as numerous bids have been placed upon your name.

Your eyes had been following along to the numerous of individuals that were bidding, some were colleagues your husband had been all too certain had hots for you, others were top officials that you were more than certain were pigs for involving themselves in the date auction knowing they were married, then there were the guests that had been leering at you all night long.

Maybe your husband was right, the auction was a big mistake.

Your eyes scanned the entire room until they met the familiar eyes of your husband. The reassurance had settled on his eyes as much as the annoyance but he was waiting for you to give him the signal.

Somehow with a simple nod it was all he needed to do to raise the paddle and his booming voice had silence everyone.

“Ten thousand.” His voice had everyone turning.

It was one of the highest bids for the night and it just had to be from the man himself. The rest of the night had been a blur, after the auction and countless of formalities and empty conversations, you had found yourself in the arms of your husband as he helped you back onto the car.

“You alright?” He inquired cupping your cheeks the moment he had helped you with your seatbelt.

“Will get better.” You assured him grounding yourself back to reality as he patted your cheeks and driving the two of you back to your shared apartment.

The car ride was silent, the event with the auction still playing in your head. It could go so wrong in many ways if your husband did not intervene. It was supposed to be for a good cause, but it did not feel like it when you stood in front of the stage. You felt more like meat being prepared to be slaughtered.

Eventually you two had arrived back. Your husband opened the car for you and led you back to you to your apartment. The silence was consuming you more than you expected it to.

“Want to sober up or not?” Your husband inquired.

You turned to look at him as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Sober up would be great right now.” You sighed following him to the kitchen, hopping onto the barstool by the kitchen island. Toeing off your heels in the process, an unintentional moan escaped your lips from the relief on your feet.

“I haven’t done anything yet and you’re already moaning, My Love?” He teased placing a mug of coffee in front of you, from the smell alone you were all too certain was too bitter for your taste.

“Play your cards right and maybe I’ll be the one to make you moan all night.” You quipped right back, cupping the mug and relief of the warmth washing away the events of the night.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He smirked turning towards your mini bar and pour himself a hefty pour of whiskey.

“Surprised you didn’t threatened anyone at the party.” You pointed out.

“I could do lots of things, but I decided it wasn’t worth the hassle for either of us.”

You nodded, watching him unbutton his uniform and sit beside you. Your head immediately finding their way onto his shoulder.

“I’ll pay you back what you paid for the auction.” You promised him.

“You would do no such thing.” He ordered. “You’re worth every pretty penny I’ve paid for tonight.”

You blushed at his words. Even in the years of being with the man, he still has his way of turning you into the girl that had always had a crush on the handsome gruff all only had eyes for you.

Your eyes turned towards your hand, the sparkle of your rings was always present and never once did you remove them even at the party. You wanted to keep your relationship private but never a secret and there are days that you wished to let the world know. But now with his new promotion and you having to lead yet another mission with the help of him now, you doubt it would be a good thing to do.

“You’re too sweet to me sometimes, even after how shitty the night turned out.”

“Nothing shitty about tonight. I get to see you all dressed up and all eyes on you knowing you’re gonna come home to me tonight and do whatever their empty little heads could formulate.”

You rolled your eyes cupping his cheeks and move him slightly too pull him into a kiss that you had desperately wanted to give him all night long. The taste of whiskey brought a sudden thrill through your core.

“Plan on showing it to me, Captain?” You purred and the way his eyes blew out, it was all notification you needed to know as you were unceremoniously lifted into his arms.

Whoever thought your husband had a Captain Kink?

[torawro]

I’D DIE FOR YOU (AND I HAVE). ( s.a. )

sousuke aizen & black!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, blank and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine her that way. using this map of the seireitei as a reference (i searched high and low for a consistent accurate one but it was hard). the first half is set pre-ryoka invasion / pre-soul society arc. the second half is aizen-centric (from his pov told from the 3rd person) and set post-tybw arc, years after he was sealed away in mugen, also including mention of events from vol. 1 of can't fear your own world (a light novel that's post-tybw & can be considered canonical); so all this being said: SPOILERS i guess???? of course you're welcome to read if you don't care about spoilers! somewhat based on 'die for you' by the weeknd & even more loosely based on 'dark red' by steve lacy. contains themes of heavy-ish angst, existential crises (?) & inner emotional turmoil within reader + aizen (separately). descriptions of character death, blood and violence. descriptions of manipulation/mind games. aizen is an unkind man. proofread (i did my best).

word count ━━ 11k

notes ━━ ! the way this fic was supposed to finished a month ago...but life once more gets in my way. and the way that it's this long....i anticipated the max being 10k but i greatly underestimated how long it would take to flesh out my idea. anywho i'm somewhat reentering my bleach era again. i’m not sure what it is but character analyses in the form of fanfiction is my jam rn like i really enjoyed writing this (i got tired of the length by like... 7k words lmao) but i like how this turned out. i've watched & read quite a bit of content that provide explanations as to why aizen is the way he is so i wanted to try my own portrayal of that in the context of canonical events. how i characterized him here is partially inspired by a fic i read about him last year so shout out to them for their support :D i hope i've depicted and humanized aizen well ♡. reblogs + commentary are heavily appreciated!!!!!

THE PAD OF YOUR THUMB SLOWLY glided against your bottom lip, the lingering aftertaste of jasmine tea still on its surface and on your breath. The absentminded motion of your thumb caressing your mouth, as if in deep contemplation, continued as you stared at the clock hanging on the wall above you.

It was past eleven, and the midnight hour only continued to draw near as time sustained its temporal march. And there you sat at your desk, floating in the limbo of your mind that was filled with hesitancy and admittedly, budding anticipation.

Your gaze lowered to the now empty porcelain cup, nothing remaining of its contents except the shriveled remnants of herbs and a few wayward drops of the brew.

Your senior comrade, captain Sōsuke Aizen, was correct in his prediction that you'd take a liking to its floral and delicate taste when he gifted you a jar full of the jasmine tea leaves as well as other ingredients.

The captain of Squad 5 seemed to be correct about a lot of things.

His intelligence and foresight, along with his kind and politely witty disposition, were qualities that you found somewhat charming, and gradually drew you closer to him.

Being the current third seat of the 9th company, your barracks and those of squad 5's were relatively close to each other's, so often you'd catch glimpses of and run into Captain Aizen on a pretty normal basis. Over the years, the conversations that bounced between the two of you expanded past the realm of formalities between a higher and lower ranking officer, and instead ranged in territories from literature, to art, to food & drink, and even to the politics of the government for which they were soldiers for.

Sometimes, you found it hard to believe that you managed to befriend a man like him. A man who seems to have mastered the balance between being a gentle soul, helpful to others, but also possessed enough refined power and skills to be named a captain within the Gotei 13.

Especially a man who wasn’t even of your own squad.

Despite the increasingly friendly relations and generally pleasant conversation, there were few moments where Aizen's words didn't feel quite. . . . real━ he didn't feel real. He spoke eloquently, often relying on figurative language to further illustrate his point and to breathe meaning into seemingly plain and meaningless words. But at times those words, his tone felt stained; stained with some substance or color you couldn't quite place. An enigmatic façade was painted over his speech, and it took too much mental capacity to try and find your own meaning in it.

So you'd often brush it off. Your over-reliance on your own reasoning that 'you weren’t able to come to a conclusion because there is no problem a conclusion could be generated from' successfully quieted your mind’s voice. You'd also frequently blame exhaustion, or your newfound hobby of watching human psychological crime shows during your off days for these subconscious ideas you had.

But you feared that the request Aizen made of you yesterday, the source of your current predicament, couldn't be blamed on any of those things. You looked at the clock again before returning to stare at your empty tea cup. For what reason could Sōsuke Aizen wish to meet you outside of the 1st division barracks? Specifically at this hour? You immediately thought of his question as uncharacteristic of him but prevented yourself from jumping to any further conclusions.

Aizen was a reasonable man, and you were sure there was a reasonable explanation.

With a final sigh of acquiescence, you stood up from your sitting position to retie your yukata before slipping a thicker, dark colored haori on top. You were unsure how cold it was this late at night or how long you'd be out, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

You paused for a moment, glancing longingly at your vanity mirror a few times, clearly torn between a decision, before giving in with a soft groan. Grabbing your favorite perfume, you quickly spritzed the spray onto both your inner wrists, either sides of your neck, and stray areas on your clothes. You’d proceed to make sure your hair was in order and your lips were as moisturized and glossy as a pair of tear-filled eyes before making your way to the door and slipping on your sandals.

Meeting with a captain— with Aizen of all people— in the dead of night resembled too closely to forbidden lovers rendezvousing under a fruit tree to fulfill their desires of embracing one another, with no one but the moon as their witness. The comparison alone caused the apples of your cheeks to burst aflame with embarrassment, and you lightly chastised yourself for even indulging in such an inappropriate train of thought. Such a scenario seemed far too deluded to even be considered ‘wishful thinking’.

But those delusions still seemed to make more sense than whatever other conclusion you have yet to reach.

Making your way out of your personal quarters, you activated your shunpo technique, stealthily hopping from one rooftop to the other in an effort to make it to Squad 1 barracks quicker.

After several minutes, your mind mostly engulfed with the 'what if's', the soles of your sandals finally touched ground, and you stood a few feet away from the massive walls and bridges that connected to and from the barracks. Even at night you were able to make out the bold-printed kanji for the number 1 that was painted on the building.

When you arrived, even from a nearby rooftop, you didn't see anyone around. Feelings of confusion and worry began to creep up and flicker to life in your mind.

But, as if your thoughts were as audible, you felt a light breeze of wind behind you, a familiar sound that indicated someone had made their presence known.

Startled, you reflexively reached for your zanpakuto, when you remembered that you hadn't even brought it with you. It still laid against the wall near your bed, just where you placed it earlier when you were relieved of your duties for the day.

You didn't think you needed it necessarily if you were just going to meet with Aizen, hence why taking it with you slipped your mind.

The flickers of concern were swiftly extinguished as your brain caught up with your body upon realizing who just appeared. A relieved sigh left your lips, a breath of air that seemed to release all the tension that had a grip on your heart and wound tight within your muscles. "Ah! Good evening Captain Aizen. You caught me off guard for a moment there."

"My apologies, that was not at all my intention." The Fifth Division Captain sported a dark colored scarf, his long captain's coat and the standard shihakushō all Gotei officers were supposed to wear. In the sash around his waist resided his own sheathed zanpakuto. His tawny hair maintained its usual part but looked slightly tousled, yet still remaining so in a meticulous fashion that made it look intentional.

The state of his hair alone, and his current facial expression made Aizen look more . . . approachable if that’s how you were to describe it. There was a glint in his eyes that you had seldom seen before.

"Thank you, for making your way down here to accommodate my rather. . . . atypical request. I again extend my apologies if I have inconvenienced you in any way."

You shook your head in reply, "It's alright, I wasn't doing anything too important anyway. Just having a cup of tea and delighting myself in a book before bed."

You glanced downwards at the foot or so of space that was wedged in between the two of you. You forced away the murmurs of your lingering thoughts that took note of how the moonlight and shadows danced across the surface of Aizen's face just right, and emphasized his decidedly handsome features.

"But having a complete and good night's rest is important to be fully functional in all areas of one's performance. Wouldn't you agree?"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes, I do agree with that sentiment."

Aizen all but hummed in acknowledgement, letting a moment of silence fill the air before speaking again.

"Shall we be on our way?"

You nodded in agreement, following him as the both of you walked about the First Division grounds. From what you could tell based on your position, your aimless nightly stroll drew you closer to where Sokyoku Hill was located. The area became increasingly more grassy and contained less buildings.

Although Squad 1 grounds weren't terribly far from either of your barracks, you still weren't sure as to why Captain Aizen wished to meet out here. Initially you thought that perhaps he was just fond of this particular scenery, but really it could have been anything.

But still, you believed Aizen always had a purpose for everything he did.

After several moments, his warm voice replaced the evening silence, vocalizing your current thoughts. “I assume you are contemplating why it is I have asked you here, and I’m afraid the reason is quite benign. Truthfully, I just wished for your company. I often go on night walks to clear my head after a long day and thought I might invite you to join me this time, and have a conversation with each other."

Your brows shifted upwards, for that was not quite the answer you were expecting. It seemed too . . . simple. “Really? You just . . . wanted to talk with me? Plainly?”

The Squad 5 captain let out a short, soft laugh at the disbelief that was painted on your face. There was an expression of fondness present in his eyes and in the light smile he offered you. “Yes, exactly. I quite enjoy our discussions actually, they’re intellectually stimulating and relatively pleasant. You crossed my mind, and before yesterday, it has been quite some time since we’ve had the opportunity to unwind and talk.”

You hummed an mhmm in agreement, tearing your eyes away from Aizen’s side profile in favor of the hem of his captain’s haori, watching how it danced in the soft breeze. It seemed to be less distracting than the way Aizen peered down at you from time to time.

"I see. I am. . . . truly flattered by your words, Captain Aizen; you're too kind. Forgive me for asking but," you took longer strides so that you could fall into step next to him━ as if to speak to him more directly, "Why at this time? To talk with me, I mean. It couldn't wait until more . . . . . conventional hours?"

He chuckled again, and answered as smoothly as if he were awaiting you to ask him that. "Unfortunately, today's tasks ran a little long today, so I had to stay at my office later than usual." The spectacled man paused for a moment, before setting his soft gaze on you, "And besides, that completely defeats the purpose of inviting you on a night stroll, doesn't it?"

You ignored the heat flaring up in your cheeks again. Your mind refused to move past the fact that you had crossed Sōsuke Aizen's mind enough times━ or the times that he thought about you were significant enough━ and highly enough to invite you into his realm and indulge in these moments with him, when he very much could have done that alone.

A tender smile appeared on your lips, more towards yourself than the man next to you. "I. . . suppose it does."

The ashen-white moon only rose higher in the sky, providing an ambiance of tranquility as the both of you talked about whatever crossed the surface of your minds. Other times, the stillness of the night did the talking, and you'd listen to the leaves, and the wind, and the crickets sing together in harmony. Gradually as you walked and the beaten path grew more narrow, your figures drew closer together, until you could feel the long sleeves of his haori brush against your own.

You hadn't noticed that the two of you eventually stopped walking and paused under a tree until Aizen struck up conversation once more. When he called out your name in that gentle, velvety voice, you swore your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The sound of your name rolled of his tongue so smoothly, the desire to hear it again grew within you.

"Uh━ yes, Captain Aizen?"

"Are you satisfied with way things are at the moment?"

You stood next to him, perplexed at his inquiry due to its vague nature. "Um, what. . . . things? I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking."

The wind brushed Aizen's dark ochre tresses across his face as he took a step towards you, like the breeze itself was pushing him towards you. "Hm, perhaps I should be more clear then. Are you content with being a soul reaper? Are you satisfied with being a soldier for the Soul Society?"

With your brows slightly furrowed in thought, you remained silent for several seconds and overanalyzed his every word, trying to predict where he might be steering the conversation now. The longer you thought it over, the stronger that nagging feeling from within your soul became. The one that often told you what he was asking wasn't exactly . . . it didn't quite feel . . . . .

"This feels like a prelude to another insightful discussion on Shinigami━ and by extension━ Seiretei politics." Your words cut off your own thoughts, as if your mind was trying to sweep something under the proverbial rug.

Aizen huffed in amusement, before lightly shrugging, leaving your statement definitively unanswered.

You sighed as you seriously considered his question this time. "I mean sure, I guess. I'm somewhat satisfied with my job and all of . . . this," gesturing your hands in the air around you to emphasize your point. The 5th Division Captain made another humming noise, indicating that you still had his full attention. He inched a little closer into your personal space.

The mere action caused your next words to die in your throat and a quiet chuckle resounded from his, before your thoughts revived themselves again.

"Of course things could always be better but. . . . y'know. This is just how it is." You weren't quite sure if you should voice negative opinions about the Soul Society so plainly to a senior officer, even if he was the one who asked you in the first place, so you treaded lightly.

The same plainly relaxed smile from earlier remained painted across his lips, held in his chestnut irises was an emotion akin to affection. He seemed somewhat pleased that you were expressing your thoughts with him.

“And you? Are you satisfied, Captain Aizen?” You were unable to keep the teasing endearment out of your tone as you returned his gaze, casting aside the notions of Gotei officer seating and ranks for the moment. The air seemed like it shifted━ towards what, you weren't sure of━ but it kind of made you feel like you were adrift, floating in isolation from everything else around you.

It was still hard to process that you were alone with Captain Aizen right now. . . . at night.

A low hum reverberated within his chest, contemplative in nature as he replied, “Perhaps.”

The wind whistled lowly again, erecting goosebumps on whatever part of your skin happened to catch the midnight breeze. You fought the instinctual urge to twitch towards the nearest source of heat, which happened to be Aizen. Now that would be even more wholly inappropriate than the 'lovers meeting at midnight' scenario.

The silence between the both of you was brief, but comfortable nonetheless. Once more his mellifluous voice cut through the quiet, leveled and calm, like still ocean waters.

“Come. I want to show you something,” Aizen reached his arm out towards you, your spine as straight as if someone stuck a metal rod dipped in ice water down your robes.

The captain's movements seemed steady and slow━ it had felt like time itself had hesitated for several moments. You thought he was going to . . . . well you weren't sure what he was going to do, and that's what you made you nervous.

Was he going to touch you? Cradle your cheek? Remove a stray leaf that happened to land on your head? You were left somewhat dangling in anticipation, not daring to flinch backwards because you felt it would be disrespectful or offensive. You hadn't even blinked, subconsciously fearing that this was only a very vivid daydream.

But alas, when his arm drew near it extended past your head, slightly above you, and held a small branch in his palm it like a delicate flower. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, but that breath drew short again when your gaze was eye level with his lower neck and chin.

He seemed . . . . closer.

“I think that regarding the condition of the Soul Society," Aizen began in a quiet voice, referencing his own reply to his earlier question, "and therefore my thoughts about it, is akin to this set of leaves on this branch."

Snapping out of whatever stupor you seemed to have slipped in, you exhaled softly before stepping back a bit to look at what he was talking about. In his palm he cradled a wayward branch that grew from one of the other sturdier branches of the tree. The green foliage of its arms had started to weaken and dull in color. The cold air due to the seasonal transition to autumn caused the leaves become brittle, nearing closer to the edge of death.

The sound of just how brittle they were resounded in the air when Aizen thumbed the leaves in between his fingertips, observing their texture with pity laced in his small movements.

"These leaves will fall off as it gets colder. And soon, the rest of this tree will be bare as well. When the time comes, when the right circumstances fall into place, the old die to make way and usher in the new; it's simply the way things are. I think of the Soul Society government is structured in a similar manner."

You hung onto his every word, like he were imparting crucial wisdom to you. Even though you were a bit confused on the last part, and on the connection between dying leaves and Soul Society, you still listened intently, waiting for him bridge the gap between the two.

"The Soul Society as it is now can be thought of as a season. And this particular season, this climate has remained so for several centuries. How can nature continue━ how can we continue to progress when the old have yet to be washed away by the currents of time? It defies that of nature, yes?" He directed this question at you specifically, in search of your agreement.

You nodded your head, tearing your gaze away from the branch and directed it at the grass beneath your feet. Your brows furrowed a little as you mused over Aizen's words. He gave a rather ambiguous answer before but now, his words sounded like vague displeasure and muted criticism. Everyone was entitled to their opinion, and on some fronts, you'd sometimes agreed with the 5th Division Captain. The Soul Society was far from perfect, too much emphasis on nobility and status, the government resembled too closely to an oligarchy . . . But you didn't━ wouldn't voice these thoughts, though.

Instead you hummed quietly under your breath. There was that tugging sensation again. This time it told you that there was something deeper to this conversation than meets the eye. But what could there be? Was there anything at all or were you just overthinking it?

The voice-like sensation in your soul was calling out to you, but you couldn't hear it that well or quite make out what it was saying. It's as if someone was calling out to you in a crowded room that had music playing on the speakers: you felt like if you listened hard enough you could make it out but ultimately, the result would fruitless.

"And when that happens," Aizen continued, "sometimes nature has to be gently nudged back on track to keep things moving smoothly. That may require . . . shaking the tree. Pulling a few harmful weeds from one's garden, so to speak."

"Weeds?" You echoed. You felt like you understood this analogy and therefore what he was trying to say, but at the same time you didn't. Or was it . . . . you didn't want to understand what he was implying?

Because if you were interpreting his words correctly, if he were inconspicuously comparing the higher-ups and the government itself to dying leaves and harmful plants that needed to be removed, then . . . .

"You, dear child, are a mere weed in this scenario."

Wait, what did he just━

Your thoughts were cut short when a gush of air that smelt strongly of Aizen━ warm oak, vanilla, and a kind of musk that you weren't sure how to describe but was still pleasant all the same━ brushed against your face and took you by surprise.

But there was another aroma that arose, steadily becoming more apparent alongside the increasingly painful throbbing feeling you felt in your abdomen.

It smelt metallic. And it was something that you've smelt all too many times before.

It was blood.

Your gaze that was initially narrowed in confusion lowered as it followed the source of this pain. Your eyes slowly widened in as you struggled to comprehend the blade that was currently ran through your torso.

Aizen's blade.

"Actually, instead of weeds, a more accurate and befitting analogy perhaps would be blades of grass. You unfortunately have to step on them in order to reach the weeds you want to remove."

You couldn't really focus on what the captain was saying, because your brain was still struggling to process what the hell just happened. Your hands slowly rose from their sides and shakily grazed the zanpakuto, wanting to believe that if you touched it, it would pass right through your fingers like mist. But no, the sensation of cold steel was as real as the robes you wore on your back. You only just now are processing the muffled squelching sound of his sword impaling your flesh.

You wanted to scream, to cry in pain, to vomit, to push him off━ something. But all you could do was stand there, stunned, words completely failing you. "Wh. . . . what? Why did . . . . you . . . . "

A cough replaced your attempt at a comprehensive sentence, and you tasted iron in your mouth.

Fuck....was this really happening?

"Please don't push yourself trying to talk," His voice was like an index finger to one's lips, similar to a parent's gentle caress to quiet and sooth their child, "You'll only hasten your death. And I'm sure you wish to know the reason for my killing you, yes? You'd have to be alive for that."

'Killing me?' 'My death?' The certainty that rang in his words chilled the blood in your veins, and they confirmed the one conclusion you hoped wouldn’t come true: that you were going to die.

The frigid embrace of fear and dread engulfed you from behind and you shivered, causing the blade snugly lodged in your organs to shift. The pain of that foreign object moving even a little bit shot through your entire body, causing a groan to emerge from your throat.

Desperate to conserve your energy and the oxygen that was becoming a little harder to take in, your breathing became uneven and a little wheezed. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet the gaze of Captain Aizen to confirm if this was really happening or just an extremely realistic and vivid nightmare. The sight you might be greeted with could be more frightening than the actual impaling of his sword.

As if his betrayal couldn’t actually or figuratively cut you any deeper, just then there was a noise that grew louder and louder within a matter of seconds until it was almost deafening. You’ve distinguished it to be the sound of glass crackling.

Your surroundings formed cracks everywhere on its surface, like it was just an oversized window. Even on the grass you stood on, or what you thought was grass, began to crumble away.

A dumbfounded but panicked look was plastered on your face when your world literally shattered around you, the only remnants of it being you and the Captain.

What was underneath the mirage━ or you should say, the fact that it was a mirage at all━ only disturbed you and increased your perplexity.

Slightly hunched over and breathing heavily, it took a minute to process where you were, but you noticed that now the two of you stood in a formal room that looked like it was used for important meetings. The lights in the room slowly started to brighten, most likely due to motion sensors. Even with Aizen's scent lingering in your nose, you could still pick out a rather stale aroma that hung in the air like dead fruit that hadn't fallen off the tree.

"Is . . . this Cen . . . tral━ "

"You are correct. Where we currently stand is the assembly hall for Central 46, the judicial power of the Soul Society. All judiciary as well as legislative trials and proceedings are held here."

All around the room were seats with partitions, the kanji for 1 through 46 printed on them. In the seat for the 19th member, your gaze caught onto something on the translucent barrier. It was a little farther up so you had to squint your already blurring vision to see it properly.

You saw, and your heart promptly sank as a result, eyes widening once more.

There were splatters of a dark colored substance on the partition━ undeniably blood. And the lithe, bony fingers of an older man laid lifeless, peeking out from the side of the screen like the appendages themselves were trying to escape from the body they were attached to.

That man . . . was dead. That stale aroma you smelt was the stench of death.

It was only after that unsettling epiphany did your eyes dart frantically around the room and realize that every member of Central 46 was dead.

The disturbed expression on your face only intensified as your stare was pulled back down to where Aizen's blade still resided in your body.

" Cap.....Aizen," you uttered, swift to correct yourself. All the moisture in your throat dried up like water underneath the unrelenting rays of the sun. You kept gulping your saliva in an attempt to assuage the sensation, but relief only last for a fleeting few seconds. "Did you ━ you killed them . . . didn't you?" Your question was laced with shaky hesitance and swelled with apprehension, fearing that you already knew his reply even before he answered.

There was a moment of silence and a hum before he replied. "Smart girl."

The muted mirthful tone in his voice sounded like sarcasm, and it was enough to finally draw your attention away from everything else and directly look at him. Almost instantly, you regretted it.

His umber tinted gaze was colder than you remembered. You couldn't find anything in his eyes that hinted that all of this was just a big misunderstanding, or a dream, or that Aizen had a secret sense dark and complex humor.

This was your first, and apparently your last time, that you have ever felt a fear such as this. Your mind was struggling to comprehend this was the same Aizen that spoke with you so gently, full of encouragement and wisdom. The same man that recommended you books to read and gifted you tea to drink and gazed upon you like . . .

Well, none of that mattered now. In this moment, Sōsuke Aizen wasn't the same man anymore. This Sōsuke Aizen was someone else, and it frightened you.

"When?" you croaked, your voice no longer sounding like your own. Nothing felt real anymore. "W-When did you . . . . . how? Why?"

Another noncommittal hum resounded from the spectacled man as he closed his eyes, feigning the action of thinking of an answer. When he reopened them, his narrow gaze returned to you.

"Everyone in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads was previously aware that the ability of my zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu, allowed me to confuse the enemy using bodies of water, mist and even moisture in the air in order to attack. However, that is not my zanpakuto's actual power; there is more to it than just simple confusion. Kyoka Suigetsu's true power is Complete Hypnosis. Essentially, when someone looks at my blade, I am then able to take control of that person’s five senses, causing them to believe that something is real ━ or that something isn't real. In a way, once glancing at my unsheathed zanpakuto, that person forfeits their sense of existence to me. Kyoka Suigetsu is quite flawless in its deceptive abilities."

A heavy silence, aside from your uneven breaths, endured in the space between both of you. You didn't need him to spell out what he was trying to say.

It was all . . . . an illusion. A convoluted, premeditated illusion. And you walked right into it without even knowing or considering, that it was all fake.

The Fifth Division Captain inwardly smiled at the despair clearly written on your face as he watched you mentally put the pieces together. He took your lack of reply as a sign to continue. "The members of Central 46 have unfortunately been dead for quite some time now. And as for your question of why......"

The taller man stepped towards you which inadvertently (or purposely, you began to fear), drove his sword deeper into your abdomen without warning and slight force. You bit down on your bottom lip hard to stifle your exclamation of pain. In an attempt to somehow resist him, with the little strength you had left, your hands automatically took purchase in his oversized sleeves, but it did nothing. You found it ironic that you could feel how warm Aizen was underneath his robes, but his soul was anything but.

" . . . . I believe I already mentioned it earlier, yes? All flowers die eventually and the weeds......must be removed."

At that moment you remembered that tugging sensation that told you something felt off in some instances whenever you talked with Aizen. This must have been what it was. Damn it all. You still didn't understand exactly what bad things Central 46 and the Soul Society have done to cause his actions, but based on what you've been told and your current position, it must have been heinous. Again, you actively swallowed the urge to vomit.

"You . . . you lied. I can't believe━ how could it have all b-been a lie?" Another nasty cough rattled your body, followed by a shiver and a groan.

The brown-haired man slightly tilted his head, like he was truly confused. "Lied? Hmm, well. I suppose you could put it that way based on your limited knowledge of the circumstances, but I wouldn't put it that way. Besides, this isn't really about truth or lies. It is, and always has been, only about the reality of what is. And what is, is that you were unable to anticipate my deception. No one could, because it was outside the domain of your thoughts. What is, is that the current way the Soul Society operates is tainted, and I shall be the one to remedy it."

You drew another shuddering breath and looked down at the ground with a grim expression as your blood continued to pool at your feet. Briefly, you even considered unsheathing yourself from his blade and take the chance to make a run for it, but the chances of you making it to the outside world, let alone coming across someone before you bled out and died were slim. Besides, it was clear that you couldn't even trust your own senses anymore after Aizen demonstrated that he had complete control of your reality.

Which reminded you of something else.

" . . . when?" you asked the same question again, but much quieter than before, despair palpable in your voice. 'When and how did you subject me to your zanpakuto's Complete Hypnosis?', is what you were really asking. And being as intelligent as he was, the spectacled man understood.

Abruptly, with a large palm on the small of your back, Aizen used his gentle hold grip to pull you towards him in order to close the remaining distance, causing him to drive the remaining length of his zanpakuto all the way through until the tsuba of his blade rested against your stomach. You looked like a skewered piece of meat.

You didn't have the willpower to hold back the piercing shriek of agony and physical anguish as tears sprung forth from your eyes. You could no longer tell if your blurry vision was due to your tears obstructing your sight or if it was from being a step away from death's door.

"Do you remember . . . the first time we met?"

The hand that rested on your lower back slowly glided upwards until his fingers found your jaw. With a tenderness that reminded you of a time before his betrayal, he lifted your chin and guided your gaze to look at him directly. His thumb moved to graze your bottom lip just as you've done mere hours ago━ as if he knew that, as if he watched you do it. His thumb was dangerously close to slipping inside your mouth and that both excited and scared you. Your breasts against his, your breaths synchronized with his, your body and his were fully pressed against each other and it made focusing on his question more difficult.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The first time . . . we met? Sure, with a little bit of effort you could easily recall the first time you formally met Aizen. It was sometime in the spring, and you remembered him running through combat formations with his lieutenant and the rest of his squad. But why d━

A silent gasp left you. Another epiphany, another figurative blade piercing your heart.

Battle formations, and he . . . offered you to join them . . . his zanpakuto . . . . .

Confusion crumbled away, and was replaced with vacant horror and sadness. It seems you've already been defeated, for many, many years now.

Aizen seemed to murmur something under his breath, a pleased sound you couldn't quite decipher. His mouth brushed over yours, rendering you literally speechless, before he closed the distance and brought your lips together. You could barely process what was happening.

It was ironically tragic how soft and skillfully gentle his lips were against yours. The kiss felt longing, like a departure between two sweethearts and their last meeting together. It also felt heavy and final, making you want to cry.

And you did. Silent tears streamed from your eyes and rolled onto the fingers that still held your face so affectionately. The captain reacted by guiding your chin up a little further, dipping his head a little lower, so he could deepen the kiss. You weakly scorned yourself for thinking about how the two of you must really look like lovers now, sans the sword sticking out from your back.

Oh, how cruel this was; how cruel he was. It was cruel for him to kiss you like this, hand still splayed on your back like he needed to touch you stay sane. And how cruel it was that still managed to enjoy it, even as you stood there dying. Your lips moved together in tandem, slow and almost passionate, all while tears stained the apples of your cheeks, drying up the plush youth that once resided in them.

Aizen's tongue had slithered its way into your mouth, and you suddenly felt like crying harder. There was a tart, sweet flavor lingering on his tastebuds, and you absently wondered what is was. Perhaps hibiscus from tea, you surmised. And he too tasted the sweet jasmine and citrus that clung your tongue and lips. At this, he chuckled quietly into your mouth, humming before retracting from you by a few inches so he could speak.

"I knew you would like the tea. It's sweet and flavorful, isn't it?" You hated how low his voice was, how its timbre pleasurably vibrated and rumbled against your lips, and you hated that lidded stare he gave you. You again thought it unfair that you couldn't even revel in the rare sight of Aizen's lips slightly wet because your lips were intertwined with his.

"I have to thank you for humoring me and my recommendations. I really appreciated it. And I also," you winced loudly and cried out in affliction as Aizen finally began to withdraw the sword from your body, "must to bid you farewell now. It seems you don't have any more time left, and this has dragged on for longer than it needed. I'm not surprised you've held out for this long, as I already knew you possessed commendable strength. But alas it wasn't enough. I am sorry that you have to die; it's rather regrettable that you happened to be that blade of grass that ended up underneath my foot."

Another wail was yanked from your chest as he steadily removed his sword from your abdomen. The pain was becoming excruciating, you would have collapsed by now if the taller man weren't holding you.

You saw two things before the light in your eyes had all but faded away. The first were the colors of faux pity and apathy that swirled in Sōsuke Aizen's irises, spiraling like a storm that was certain to wreak havoc in its wake. His gaze was devoid of any regret or remorse; the final metaphorical nail on the coffin. The second was a small smile.

But this wasn't one of his smiles you were familiar with. No wait . . . . the one you knew was simply a veneer of what is.

This smile was slanted, the corners of his lips tilted upwards and was sharp. Sharp enough to cut open your already gaping wound further and completely tear you apart, spelling out your demise. It looked insidious as if it were hiding razor-edged fangs. This was what is; Aizen's real smile.

"I. . . I see. Aize. . . ." were the last words you were able to manage. You didn't have the strength to be upset or hurt any longer, so you gave in to the exhaustion.

Your body permanently relaxed, long lashes veiling your now empty eyes as your arms lifelessly dropped to your sides. The captain found a disturbing amount of pleasure in his name being the final word you attempted to speak before succumbing to the sleep of death.

And even after the fact, the facade of doomed, star-crossed lovers persisted as your body slumped backwards. Aizen's strong forearm wrapped tightly around your waist being the only reason you didn't fall to the ground in a puddle of your own blood.

That day was the last anyone saw of you, your zanpakuto still laid idly in your room, its spirit destined to forever wander in the afterlife between worlds alone, eventually fading from existence without ever feeling the presence of its master again.

They had declared you missing by the end of the next day. Lieutenant Hisagi was probably the most perturbed about your sudden disappearance. Days, weeks passed, and they never located you. The Gotei 13 was left unsettled by the lack of progress, but ultimately had to rule your case inconclusive. Some believed that you were simply killed by a stray hollow, or even ran away from your duties because of the stress.

The news of what happened spread like wildfire across all the squads, that a high-ranked officer just up and vanished without a trace. The spirits and morale of the thirteen companies dampened, sorrow and worry swelling like a festering boil.

And that boil burst when Ryoka infiltrated the Soul Society, and when it was revealed that all of it was carefully orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen.

Like a blade of grass that somehow snuck into one's sandals or in between their toes, during his time in Hueco Mundo, images of you flashed in his head at unexpected times when his mind was quiet. He'd remove the grass, tossed you aside, and moved on with his day. There was no room for you in the grand scheme of things. Such reminisces were beneath someone like him.

And yet.

He'd always find another piece of grass from the greenery he stepped on whenever he advanced a step in his plans. There you were again.

It was common knowledge that if you kept repeating the same action over and over, it will eventually wear you down.

━━━━━━ 鏡  ━━━━━━━

It was dark, and there was nothing.

There had been nothing for quite a long time now. Utter darkness and the abyssal shade of black engulfed every inch of Aizen's body and surroundings.

He saw nothing, the seals over his eyes too opaque to let anything through. And even if they weren't obscuring his vision, he would barely be able to see three feet in front of him; there was seldom a few lanterns in his cell to begin with. He felt nothing but the bindings that kept him imprisoned in one of the deepest pits of the Seireitei. At times it felt like even his internal organs had stilled in their functions. He heard nothing but the unrelenting quiet of his cell within Mugen's maw. The only thing that served as proof that he hasn't spontaneously grown deaf yet was the occasional muffled noise that originated from outside of the entrance. And even then, he could hardly hear much of anything.

Such is an ironic fate for someone who, with a stray thought and a glint of his blade, could control someone's senses and take away their free will to experience those senses in their reality. And now, he was stripped away of all of his in nearly every capacity.

Sōsuke Aizen was rendered stationary and stagnant, qualities he detested and were the antithesis of his ambitions and plans, perhaps even his existence.

Aizen had always believed in being in control of your own destiny and making your own choices; if you had the opportunity and the power to change something━ especially if it was something that was wrong, unfair or immoral━ then one should be able to move towards that goal by making change, even if by force. The former captain had always been intentional about his actions and his desires right from the start.

And yet, here he ended up.

Spending years strapped to a chair in this dark, cloistered hole, Aizen had nothing but time to reflect the reason for his arrest: that orange haired Ryoka boy, Ichigo Kurosaki. He had nothing but time to admit to himself and settle on the conclusion that his last battle with the substitute Shinigami . . . did something to him.

Fighting the Ryoka boy ignited something inside him that he previously believed would forever lay dormant.

The thrill of a challenge.

Adrenaline was injected into his veins with each clash of their swords, spreading far and wide across every inch of his body. It no longer reacted in the measured, calculative manner he had programmed it to, but with unadulterated, pure instinct and raw power━ all in an effort to not only withstand such potent spirit energy from his opponent, but to come out on top and win.

It made him feel alive.

Aizen's desire to be the victor in battle and in his philosophy━ to prove himself right━ both fueled him and consumed him so thoroughly it led to his own downfall. That was a rather difficult fact to acknowledge; so much so his head started to pulsate intensely whenever it crossed his mind one time too often.

All of it unfolded right in front of his eyes and yet . . . he didn't really see it happen.

As time passed during his perpetual incarceration, with hooded eyes, the former captain spent an unfathomable amount of time tossing and turning every single event that led him to this underground prison, even pondering his temporary release by the Head Captain Kyōraku to fight in the war. Scenarios both minor and significant displayed itself in front of his mind's eye as if he were watching a film.

Every so often, a blurred visage of your image would make a brief appearance, like the flickering sparks of a match before they were able to come to light, fading away into the void and were overshadowed by his other thoughts. It was as if his own consciousness and intentionally muted any manifestations of your existence in his memories. As if he wasn't able to or allowed to see them━ to remember you for too long.

Mentally reliving moments from the last several months, years, decades, centuries━ trying to analyze each moment and decipher where it could have went wrong━ turned out to be quite an exhausting task. His mind and body would grow heavier with inertia, and eventually he would succumb to the alluring pull of slumber. After some time he would rouse from his sleep, and continued from where he left off.

These were his daily activities day in and day out (even though he had trouble distinguishing day and night in his chambers) for years. He saw a positive side to it though. He'd instead think of it has him getting stronger because he had spent so long . . . thinking. Ruminating. Contemplating every possibility in the past, present, and future. His mind would become as sharp as his zanpakuto.

Aizen had always been intentional about what he did, what he said, and how he conducted himself. He was sure in his abilities to orchestrate an image━ a belief for others to have faith in, and act on it in order to further his goals. He was always sure in that image, knowing who he was and what he stood for.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

Aizen wasn't consciously aware that his certainty in this crafted image had already begun to waver. He could not and was unable to anticipate how severe these small fractures had become until after a certain lieutenant paid him a visit outside his cell of confinement, right before he was scheduled to be thrown back into that dark hole of the Mugen.

Lieutenant Shuhei Hisagi was quite emotive when he burst through the doors. His expressions were contorted in volatile mixture of frustration, anger and sadness. His emotions were every which way, directed at everything that has happened so far, including himself. He was especially emotive at Aizen specifically for what he did to former captain Kaname Tosen and 'corrupting him with his twisted ideals.'

Aizen found amusement in that.

Before he was rolled away by the punishment force and therefore out of earshot, a particular set of Hisagi's words caused the small, content smile on his lips to uncurl ever so slightly. "Everything . . . and everyone that has ever gotten themselves involved with you has been trampled on by you and your ideals one way or another, and they all end up dead. If you think what you did to Captain Tosen was justified━ to call it mercy . . . . . then there is truly no justice in this world. You will . . . forever be the enemy in my eyes."

There was a trembling anger in his voice. Pain that wanted to cry out and be set free but, the thin lid of reason prevented it from doing so. And after a moment of silence, the corners of Aizen's lips curved upwards once more. A little bemused, a little more wolfish this time. He maliciously imagined Hisagi's reaction if he ever discovered the true reason for your disappearance.

But instead, all he said was. "What an interesting thing to say, Shuhei Hisagi. Your conviction is admirable." Any evidence of emotion that might have been reflected in his sepia irises was swallowed up and obscured by the darkness of the Mugen's jaw.

The cracks in Aizen's sense of self, in his beliefs, in the image he invented started to cave under the weight of Hisagi's words before he himself realized it was happening. They were like stains in the fabric of his mind that refused to come out.

What puzzled him more, was that with each attempt to figure out just why Hisagi's words echoed in his mind, they all lead back to you, the third seat of the 9th squad. Annoyingly so.

The tattooed lieutenant hadn’t said anything particularly profound ━ at least, Aizen didn't think so. Your name didn’t even fall from his lips. So why were memories of you and your likeness the only clear thoughts he could make of Hisagi's speech? Was it because he was aware of how close the two of you were? He doubted the reason were that trivial and insignificant.

His thoughts grew more discordant by the day, his soul a little more weighted than usual. Perhaps these new seals that Urahara had fashioned actually had an effect on him, Aizen thought. It made sense. His intellect, other than his own, were the only ones capable of creating such effective restraints.

After a while, he had a revelation. This was a different kind of weight.

This heaviness, the closest word he knew to describe it as . . . . was loneliness.

Time taunted him as it seemed to drag on━ Aizen grew even less sure of how much━ when he came to this realization. Hisagi's words were a clear mirror to the loneliness that echoed within him after what happened to you and to Tosen. It was so . . . potent, that it seemed to strike some chord in Aizen he had never heard before.

Such a chord, this sound of loneliness, it was strange and uncomfortable; he wasn't very fond of this sensation. He'd try to scrub it away, but it was all for naught.

His eyes had slid shut at some point, his ruminations leading to dead ends and wearing him down. And, almost as expected, there you were again, in all your translucent glory. The hem, the sleeves, and even the smell of your yukata slowly dragged across his dreams, haunting his thoughts like a lonely wraith.

And Aizen hardly dreamt of anything.

When he regained consciousness he was plagued with yet another epiphany. An additional reason behind this newfound depth.

Aizen's own loneliness. Guilt. Much to his own quiet horror.

How foreign and unusual a thing like guilt is. It was like looking into a mirror and not recognizing something you had never noticed before, but wondered if it had always been there.

But the thing Aizen did recognize, how lonely he actually felt, was something he had hoped would never resurface again. It was a notion he hadn't had the time or regard to consider━ 'loneliness'. Its only purpose, if any, was solely to serve as a motivator. At times though, it was more like a hindrance.

Something akin to nausea slowly started to bubble up in the pit of his stomach, but he suppressed the sensation before it became any more intense.

What of his previous actions did he need to feel guilty for? He hadn't felt it then, so why would he feel it now? Again he ruminated such a question endlessly into oblivion.

The former captain had no doubts that his plan to remove the Soul King, and therefore the Soul Society's sins, were necessary.

Nor did any hesitancy about removing the opposition or dead weight━ whether shinigami or arrancar━ existed.

He certainly had no reservations against killing Kaname Tosen, for he knew the man well enough to know that Tosen would have been so thoroughly appalled with what he had become, it would have drove him mad.

So what was it, then? Why were such useless emotions as guilt and loneliness being amplified n━

"Y....know, S....."

Even covered by the seals, Aizen's eyes widened and his brows were slightly furrowed in distress. Had his mind finally tipped the scales of sanity and madness, to the point where he was hearing things?

It was quiet for several moments longer, before his senses caught onto the sound of water dripping onto a hard surface.

One drop at a time.

Its cadence a little too rhythmic to be natural. And for a second time, he heard that soft, ominous sounding whisper. Its voice a little clearer this time.

"You...know.....Sōsuke."

In the second it took for his eyes to flutter shut behind its seals to blink, when he reopened them, he was no longer sealed to the walls and floors of the Mugen, nor was he surrounded by every shade of darkness imaginable. His limbs and senses were finally freed to breathe for the first time in what felt like ages.

That relief was short-lived when his senses absorbed the unending landscape of water underneath his feet, water lilies lifelessly floating on its surface, and the dim sky illuminated by a full pale moon.

Aizen was in his inner world, and now he was aware of how he got here, or rather who brought him here.

"You . . . already know the answer to that question, Sōsuke." The voice was even more clear, its sentences more comprehensible. And it sounded it eerily like you.

Why the voice was impersonating your likeness had caught him off guard for half a second, but he realized it was only the work of his zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu.

An illusion it may be, there was an untouchable quality about your voice and how you spoke that even Kyoka Suigetsu couldn't replicate.

A few feet away from him, the water was disturbed by a being emerging from the depths. Ripples formed around a manifested version of his zanpakuto, who took the form of you, smiling ever so gently. The smile felt airy, and it didn't seem like the same one that haunted his dreams and every waking thought as of late. It felt....knowing.

Still, the former captain couldn't be bothered to maintain eye contact with his sword spirit, so he turned around and opted to keep his unreadable stare trained on the vast expanse of water and white lilies.

"It's been quite a while since I have stepped foot into this realm. There must be something you want . . . Kyoka."

The zanpakuto chuckled, it sounded like the way you would softly laugh at one of his clever quips. But this wasn't you.

He didn’t want to admit that something about that fact didn’t sit right with him.

"Judging from your tone, would I be correct in assuming you don't want to be here?"

Silence rang out within the soul scape, before Aizen interrupted it, his gentle voice colored a shade darker, and a little rigid. "And I fail to see the reason why you must take that form when you revealed yourself to me. Is your aim to get a reaction out of me? Or something along those lines?"

Your eyes━ the eyes of Kyoka Suigetsu━ narrowed at its master's back, as if they were trying to create concavities in his skull. But the expression was washed away the moment it appeared, the serene smile from before was back in place.

"You know . . . it's considered quite rude to not look at someone when you're addressing them. That, and when you deliberately ignore things they say. Your manners have been deteriorating, Sōsuke. Tsk, tsk."

Kyoka-dressed-as-you suddenly appeared before him, as if they had teleported. Even when they were in his peripheral vision, Aizen still maintained his stare off into the distant nothingness.

"Unless, you can't find it in yourself to look at me. . . that's correct, isn't it? It's because I look exactly like her, right?" The zanpakuto continued to provoke him, taking a step closer into his personal space.

With an exasperated sigh, his eyelids fell shut for a second, using that time to gather the strength he didn't know he needed, and directed his gaze to meet his spirit's. Aizen's face gave nothing away, but his heart lurched about his chest when his bronze eyes met with yours, or what was made to look like yours. The undesired affect it had on him was all the same.

"If you wish to chastise me about manners, I suggest you take your own advice. You didn't answer my first question, either: what is it you want? Why am I here?" Again the former captain chose to not address the other parts of Kyoka's statement. For the sake of his sanity and his thinning patience━ or was it to preserve his resolve?

Its smile widened a bit, moving another step closer to their master. God, Kyoka even smelled like you, mimicking your signature honeyed scent that Aizen didn't realize he found so intoxicating until this very moment.

"I called you here to save you from yourself."

Aizen remained silent, only narrowing his eyes in speculation. "Meaning?"

"Didn't I already say it earlier? I think you already know what I'm talking about, Sōsuke. You've always known."

Fate's pairing of Kyoka Suigetsu with Aizen was a match crafted from the spindles of heaven, but also a maddening curse pulled from the depths of hell, for they complimented each other a little too well. The zanpakuto was too perfect a reflection of Aizen and his soul, looking at it started to hurt his eyes.

His sword spirit insisted that he already knew the reason for his coming here, and perhaps he did have an inkling the moment the light of epiphany was shone on his profound loneliness and guilt. But that couldn't have been what it was referring to . . . . could it?

"You cannot feign ignorance here, my dear Sōsuke, however I do find it rather humorous you bother trying. If you'd like, I don't mind humoring you by spelling it out for you. I'd be glad to unearth the truth that you have buried in the most neglected corner of your heart."

"When you were . . . . subjecting yourself to such mental torment, it had an affect on this world as well. The ripples, the waves in this scape become quite . . . tumultuous." The nuances in your voice were perfected by his zanpakuto, but the way it talked sounded like a fog that was gradually closing in from over the horizon. The uneasy feeling that resided in his chest traveled down to his stomach, but Aizen's face remained steely, even when Kyoka Suigetsu took that final step to close the gap in between them. "And the reason for that, the reason why Hisagi's words rattled you so is because you regret killing that woman."

The creased line in Aizen's brow grew more prominent as he stared down his sentient sword spirit. With its breast pressed against his, they placed a hand on his clothed chest in a tantalizing manner, but he felt nothing. There was no warmth from its palm, much unlike when your hand touched him. There wasn't even a cool sensation either. Even minutes before your death, your touch brought a soothing heat that permeated through his shihakusho and penetrated his skin.

Kyoka's face grew nearer, their smile━ although still tender looking━ grew cold at its edges, nearly resembling that of a predator eager to see despair reflected in the eyes of its prey. It didn't fit the graceful allure of your face at all, and seeing this expression deeply unsettled the former captain more than he would like to admit.

"You regret . . . killing me."

A chill tore through Aizen's body, the weight of Kyoka's words adding onto the heaviness that still hasn't been alleviated from his heart; he was hardly able to suppress the involuntary shiver.

Without warning, Kyoka's mouth suddenly became dangerously close to their master's, its lips brushing against his in a provocative manner. Aizen's expression darkened when he realized that it was reenacting his last encounter with you when you were alive. His mouth started to grow uncomfortably dry, despite his soul scape being full of moisture, and there was a taste on the back of his tongue that's been lingering there since he arrived.

The lilt in Kyoka's tone continued to taunt him. "That is the reason for your guilt: regret. You have been in denial. And in the spirit of unearthing truths, I suppose I can admit that perhaps . . . . I've been . . . . encouraging said delusions, adding drops of fuel into the flames of your emotions and ambitions. But after all that's happened, when it comes down to it there's no point in continuing this hallucination any longer. I've grown tired of this game, so it's time to for you wake up now, Sōsuke. I've brought you here to release you from your own illusion, to completely shatter it."

Aizen's back was as stiff as a board, not moving a millimeter when Kyoka's lips grazed his again. They were breathing softly onto his mouth, but he hardly felt any puffs of air.

The former captain was having a rather difficult time processing the fact that his zanpakuto had its own agenda and had been manipulating his emotions without him noticing. Specifically the emotions he felt towards you.

He never truly believed that such a thing was possible, one's own blade having such a deep-rooted influence━ no, control over their master. Or would it be more accurate to say that he never expected himself to be controlled to such a degree? He that prided himself on being freed from the marionette strings of fate that were tied to his limbs and mind, he that relished being able to do what he wanted, think what he wanted, feel what he wanted━ or what he didn't want━ it was hard to believe that none of that mattered in the end.

Kyoka Suigetsu's deceptive abilities were indeed undeniably perfect. No one, not even Aizen himself could have anticipated that Kyoka's most absolute and complete hypnosis would be enacted on himself.

"Do you know now, Sōsuke? Do you understand?" Kyoka's voice was as soft as a whisper, but it couldn't hide the edges of its tone that were still sharpened from finding amusement of seeing the truth flash across its master's face. "You had destroyed the solution to your existential question of loneliness, before you could fully understand the question itself."

Yes . . . . . Aizen understood now.

He didn't bother acknowledging what Kyoka had said. His grim facial expression━ still, tinged with dolor, and paired with an indescribable, distant look his eyes━ said all that it needed to. His silence was as much as an admission as any.

Kyoka-dressed-as-you leaned forward again to fully close the gap between their lips and Aizen's. Tenderly, like the intentions of a lover, it spoke against his nearly closed mouth. "Have you figured it out yet?"

Nothing but quiet could be heard between them, as Kyoka's mouth moved about their master's face and placed something like kisses upon its surface, but not quite.

Aizen's cocoa-shaded eyes slide down to stare at his sword spirit pressed up against him. His gaze was hard, and yet something swam underneath its surface that his zanpakuto had never seen before. Melancholy, it guessed? They weren't quite sure.

Kyoka pressed on when Aizen remained quiet. "The taste in the back of your mouth. Have you figured out what it was? You know it quite well....."

Aizen's tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, sensing the rather unpleasant taste that has coated the inside of it. And within a moment, because he was faced with the current circumstances, Aizen had finally placed a name associated this particular taste. How unfortunate this was.

Upon his realization, Aizen's head lowered, and his brown tresses hung freely over his lashes. Perhaps it was so Kyoka couldn't properly see whatever remorseful expression painted their master's face, but it mattered not. Even from here, the sword spirit could already sense exactly what it was he was feeling.

And they loved it.

"It's a sweet and flavorful taste, isn't it? Quite lovely." Kyoka Suigetsu mimicked the exact words he uttered against your lips all those years ago when he tasted jasmine tea on your tongue, and sealed your death with a kiss. "It's too bad you don't seem to enjoy it anymore."

Aizen's chest continued to rise and fall calmly, and the hands of his sword spirit that rested there glided upwards to cup his strong jaw, caressing his skin with its thumb. Its phantasmic touch did nothing to stir their master.

"Sōsuke, do you know what the jasmine flower from that tea symbolizes?"

Aizen's lips were slightly parted, but again he didn't say anything. Instead, its corners twitched and lifted upwards by an inch, and he huffed softly.

Kyoka Suigetsu grinned in reply. "Good."

The next time Aizen blinked, he was plunged in darkness yet again. The restrictive feeling that swallowed his being whole had returned, and was an indicator that his zanpakuto had released him from his inner world. He was consciously back in the Mugen, back in this abyss they called a prison cell.

Kyoka was indeed as much as a formidable force in its own right, as much as, if not greater than Aizen himself.

The conversation he had with his sword spirit would be cemented in his head for all eternity. When he grew senile and began to physically wither away, the one thing that would remain vital like a young heart, was this epiphany that he had. This realization that he actually . . . .

As the chains of despair bound him tighter to the bottom of the metaphorical pit, regret and his loneliness corroding his flesh and spirit like metal exposed to moisture, a stray memory of his time in Hueco Mundo flashed in his mind. He recalled having tea prepared for meetings with his Espadas and he could not pinpoint when, but at some point, Aizen developed an aversion for jasmine flavored tea. For one reason or another, he no longer found its taste appealing; whenever he drank it, it always tasted bitter.

Now that reason had become painstakingly clear.

The binding on his mouth muffled a rueful chuckle at the though, and it trapped the flavor of jasmine on his lips.

(#) @soaringmirror @stygianoir @ryukenzz @blkjupiters @chrissie2003 @nymphoheretic @dejwrld @triangularz @souyaszn @kuujo @honeybleed @valentineluvu . let me know if you’d like to be apart of my tag list ♡♡.

[hellaarknight]

Spacing out

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Genre : fluff. Warnings: swearing

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

"What about this one?"

"What about him?"

"Oh, c'mon Ichigo, I need your honest opinion"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. This all help Y/N choose a guy to date was pissing him off. Orihime had the brilliant idea to help each other date because with all the problems caused by the Soul Society, none of them had a proper dating life. It wasn't a really horrible idea in the end if not for the fact that they started with you. All grouped in Ichigo's room and looking at different photos of guys from highschool, or friends of a friend. Why did he agree to this? He couldn't remember.

"Orihime, that guy is not Y/N's style." Rukia chimed in with a smug smile on her face.

"Oh yeah, and what's her style? Right, Y/N what boys do you like? More handsome or less handsome? Tall or short or...?" Orihime started her list while you were deep in thought.

Ichigo wanted so badly to have a piece of your mind. He noticed you spaced out about ten minutes ago, 'bout the time Orihime scattered the guys photos on the floor.

"I think she likes strong guys, maybe a bit old like Urahara or Ukitake" Yoruichi just wanted to mess with Ichigo, she's seen the way he looked at her, the way she always was his priority in all events and circumstances.

Ichigo choked on his water. "I don't remember inviting you over, Yoruichi". His tone was almost menacing, so she was definitely rilling him up. "I don't need to be invited, as it is about Y/N, our beloved, very, much adored by both Kisuke and Ukitake who entrusted me to protect her. Am I wrong or you also asked me to keep an eye on her?"

"That's just because..." Ichigo mumbled some words, awkwardly scratching his cheek. "Listen, I don't need to explain my reasons to you!"

"Rukia, if I remember correctly, didn't your brother also tell you to take care of her?" Chad asked.

"Now that you mentioned it, him and Renji, both told me to keep an eye on her."

Ichigo put his hands into his hair, pulling at it. Urahara, Ukitake, Renji and now even Byakuya?? How was he supposed to compete with them? Then what about the guy you'll choose to go on a date with? He spared you a glance and somehow you were still blissfully unaware of the commotion going on around yourself. His lips curled into a smile. You didn't seem very interested in all this dating thing and for some reason he felt relieved. He liked you and wanted just the best for you. He... He liked you. It downed on him as he saw you smiling to yourself while looking at the framed picture of your group that he had on his nightstand. He wanted to keep that smile on your lips forever. Ichigo realized that all this was bothering him because of his own feelings. His ears started to become red as he was getting flustered by all the feelings that were pouring out of his heart towards his mind.

"Guys, why don't we ask Y/N about who she would like to go on a date with, hm?" As usual, Ishida was the most rational person in that room. They all turned around to face you, but you were too deep in thought to realize, until Rukya's voice reached you.

"Hmm?" You turn your head towards her.

"I asked you who you'd like to go on a date with?"

"Ichigo, obviously, what a dumb question Rukya."

You answered nonchalantly like it was the most normal thing in the world. Until you came to your senses and started to perceive all eyes in the room fixated on you. Then you remembered where you were and what was the purpose of your reunion. Your eyes met Ichigo's wide eyes and red face while you gasped audibly.

"Fuck, I forgot we're all here!"

[kpop---scenarios]

Huge

Pairing: Song Mingi x Reader

Warning: Smut smut smut [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: This is part of @mirohs-aurora-society kinktober event! Supposed to Hate Sex, didn't quite turn out like that but what can you do lol.

“Fuck, he looks good.” Your friend, Momo murmurs, nudging you with her elbow. You turn to look in the general direction she was looking, your eyes immediately landing on Hongjoong.

“Yes.” You sigh. “Yes he does.” You whisper, partially to just yourself, biting your lip as you eye him up.

“No.” Momo laughs, grabbing your head, turning it towards the man you really disliked, no, not disliked, hated.

“Song Mingi?” You scoff. “Mo, you really gotta get a better choice in men.” You laugh.

“Yeah okay, he might be an asshole, but he's so fucking hot and you can't deny that.” She laughs, taking a sip of her drink. “Especially dressed up like that.”

“It's a Halloween party and he's put in little to no effort.” You mumble, finishing your drink.

“Says the girl who put on a tight red dress and some devil horns and called it a day.” She laughs, nudging you again. You roll your eyes at her while she grabs your arm, dragging you to the kitchen. “More shots. Then we dance!” She laughs. You were there as support for her, and you did need to let loose, so why not?

You and Momo took shot after shot, after shot. Until you felt like your head was spinning and your vision was blurry, your body was hot but you had not a single care in the world.

“Let's dance!” You scream out, stumbling out of the kitchen, pulling Momo’s finger from behind you so you wouldn't lose her as you push through the crowd of people to the dance floor. Seconds later, you and Momo begin dancing, grinding on each other, as others dance around the two of you. The two of you easily get lost in the music, your hands roaming down your body, your eyes are closed as you let your body just move. You feel a pair of hands grip your hips, the hands helping you move your body against a crotch. You open your eyes, turning around, hoping to see Hongjoong, but instead are met with the face of Song Mingi.

“Ugh, go away.” You spit, trying to move away from him. He holds onto you tighter, pulling your body against him more, your tits pressed against his chest. He looks you up and down, biting his lip as he smirks.

“C'mon baby girl, don't be like that.” He smiles. You hate that you can't deny how fucking attractive he is, but it's his personality that sucks. He moves his hand down from your back, over the curve of your ass, giving you a small squeeze. You try to look uninterested but he was slowly getting to you and he hadn't even done much yet. He leans down, his luscious lips grazing against your ear. You can feel his breath against your neck as he begins to speak.

“You look so fucking good tonight.” He murmurs, pulling his head away, looking you in the eyes. You try not too, but you can't help but to get lost in the look in his eyes. He's staring at you like he wants to just fucking devour you, he wants to destroy you, and currently, you were drunk enough to want him to do whatever he wanted to you.

You look behind you, seeing your friend, sucking face with some guy, which made you feel a little less guilty about abandoning her to be with Mingi.

“What do you want from me?” You ask him.

He laughs. “What do I want? I want to see the tears roll down your cheeks, the mascara on your eyes smudge while I shove my cock down your throat.” He whispers. Your breath hitches. “I want to hear you screaming as I ram my cock inside you.” He finishes, stepping back from you a little. He looks at your beat red face, you can feel your body heating up, your clit throbbing for Mingi. You hated that your body had this kind of reaction to him, but you weren't going to deny yourself the opportunity.

You take a breath, looking at him with a smile. “Let's go then.” You say.

Mingi lets out a low chuckle, grabbing your hand, pulling you out of the crowd of party goers. Your stomach twists and turns as he pulls you up the stairs, leading you to an empty bedroom. You walk into the room, Mingi shuts the door behind him.

“What now?” You say, Mingi staring at you.

“Get on your knees.” He says, walking towards you while he unbuckles his belt. He pulls down his pants, letting them drop around his ankles, along with his boxers. You're on your knees, looking up at him with his cock standing straight out.

“Suck my cock.” He says, looking down at you. You lick your lips, inching towards him, but you're moving too slowly for him.

“I said suck my fucking cock.”

You wrap your hand around his shaft, slowly opening your mouth, giving his tip kitten licks before just taking his tip inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip. Mingi hisses, throwing his head back, thrusting his hips, desperate for you to take more of him. You open your mouth wide, taking as much of his cock inside your mouth as you can. Mingi grabs a clump of your hair, holding your head still as he thrusts gently at first but then each thrust gets harder and faster until he's shoving his cock down your throat. Your eyes begin to water, a mixture of spit and precum seeping from your mouth, spilling onto your breasts.

“Fuck.” Mingi hisses, pulling his cock from your mouth, breathing heavily. He helps you up off the floor, rubbing his thumb over your red lips before grabbing onto the low neckline of your dress, ripping it right down the middle, until it falls off your body, leaving you in only a bra and panties. Mingi doesn't say anything as he reaches around you, unhooking your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. He cups Your breasts, takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly. You throw your head back, letting out a small moan before Mingi pulls his mouth off of you, and pushes you back onto the bed. He climbs on the bed, taking off his shirt, before he takes off your panties, discarding them behind him. He spreads your legs open wide, laying on his stomach, flicking his tongue against your clit.

“More… please…” You whimper.

Mingi licks your cunt with the flat of his tongue, wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. He quickly shoves two fingers into your already soaked cunt, fingering you hard as the switches between licking and sucking on your clit.

“Oh my god.” You cry out, grabbing your tits, squeezing them as Mingi brings you closer to your orgasm. Mingi pulls his fingers from inside of you, moving his head away from between your legs. He crawls up the bed, hovering over you, leaning his head down, lightly pressing his lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down, harshly kissing him back. Mingi slips his tongue into your mouth, turning the kiss passionate and sloppy. He pulls away, lifting your legs over his shoulders as he shoves his cock into your cunt. You cry out as he gives you no time to adjust, pulling himself out of you just a little before ramming his cock back inside of you.

“Such a tight cunt.” He groans, holding your legs tightly. You let out loud moans as Mingi places his fingers on your clit, rubbing your sensitive bud as he continues to fuck you. It doesn't take you long to cum, crying out loudly, as your back arches, your body shaking as Mingi doesn't slow down. You pull him down to you, wrapping your legs around his waist. The two of you roll, Mingi now laying on the bed and you on top of him. You ride his cock, your hands placed on his chest as you bounce and grind on top of him. You drag your nails down his chest over and over again, leaving scratches from his pecks to his stomach as your clit is being rubbed again, building your second orgasm. Mingi reaches up, wrapping his hand around your throat, choking you while you ride him, sending more shivers down your spine.

“Ride my cock, baby girl.” He groans, moving his hands to your hips, making you bounce faster and harder on his cock. Your heads thrown back, your eyes closed tight, the feeling of his cock inside of you was intoxicating. He slides his hand up your body, over your curves, grabbing your chin, gripping it tightly as he forces you to look at him.

“Look at me when you cum on my cock, princess.” He groans, licking his lips as he watches your tits bounce with every drop back onto his cock. Your second orgasm builds quickly, the eye contact so intense. You bite your lip as your orgasm hits you, making you hunch over Mingi's body, as you work through it. Mingi holds you up slightly as he thrusts up, pounding his cock into you, chasing his own orgasm. You lay your body on Mingi's scratched chest, as he fucks you. You whimper quiet moans into his ear, urging him to cum, to spill himself inside of you.

“You want me to cum baby… you want me to cum deep in your tight cunt?” He groans. “Fuck… fuck I'm gonna cum.” He grunts, gives you one last hard thrust as he shoots his load deep inside you.

He pulls out, you both lay there for a moment, breathing heavily.

You roll off his body, standing up to look for your things, you grab your bra and panties and remember your dress being torn.

“What the fuck am I supposed to wear now?” You ask, holding up what once was your dress.

“I mean…” Mingi chuckles. “You can go out like that, you look fucking good.” He smiles.

You roll your eyes, slipping on your bra and panties. You grab Mingi's shirt, slipping it over your body.

“What am I supposed to wear?” He laughs, getting his boxers and pants back on.

“You can go out like that. You look good.” You smile. You and Mingi leave the room, heading back down to the party.

“Is that Mingi's shirt?” Momo asks, rushing up to you. “Did you fuck him?” The asks, motioning to the scratches on Mingi's chest. “Does he have a big dick?” She asks.

“Yes, yes and…” You pause, smiling, looking over at Mingi. He looks back at you, giving you a smirk and a wink. You look at Momo, with a big smile on your face.

“He's huge.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Palantir’s NHS-stealing Big Lie

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then SAN FRANCISCO (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!

Capitalism's Big Lie in four words: "There is no alternative." Looters use this lie for cover, insisting that they're hard-nosed grownups living in the reality of human nature, incentives, and facts (which don't care about your feelings).

The point of "there is no alternative" is to extinguish the innovative imagination. "There is no alternative" is really "stop trying to think of alternatives, dammit." But there are always alternatives, and the only reason to demand that they be excluded from consideration is that these alternatives are manifestly superior to the looter's supposed inevitability.

Right now, there's an attempt underway to loot the NHS, the UK's single most beloved institution. The NHS has been under sustained assault for decades – budget cuts, overt and stealth privatisation, etc. But one of its crown jewels has been stubbournly resistant to being auctioned off: patient data. Not that HMG hasn't repeatedly tried to flog patient data – it's just that the public won't stand for it:

https://www.theguardian.com/society/2023/nov/21/nhs-data-platform-may-be-undermined-by-lack-of-public-trust-warn-campaigners

Patients – quite reasonably – do not trust the private sector to handle their sensitive medical records.

Now, this presents a real conundrum, because NHS patient data, taken as a whole, holds untold medical insights. The UK is a large and diverse country and those records in aggregate can help researchers understand the efficacy of various medicines and other interventions. Leaving that data inert and unanalysed will cost lives: in the UK, and all over the world.

For years, the stock answer to "how do we do science on NHS records without violating patient privacy?" has been "just anonymise the data." The claim is that if you replace patient names with random numbers, you can release the data to research partners without compromising patient privacy, because no one will be able to turn those numbers back into names.

It would be great if this were true, but it isn't. In theory and in practice, it is surprisingly easy to "re-identify" individuals in anonymous data-sets. To take an obvious example: we know which two dates former PM Tony Blair was given a specific treatment for a cardiac emergency, because this happened while he was in office. We also know Blair's date of birth. Check any trove of NHS data that records a person who matches those three facts and you've found Tony Blair – and all the private data contained alongside those public facts is now in the public domain, forever.

Not everyone has Tony Blair's reidentification hooks, but everyone has data in some kind of database, and those databases are continually being breached, leaked or intentionally released. A breach from a taxi service like Addison-Lee or Uber, or from Transport for London, will reveal the journeys that immediately preceded each prescription at each clinic or hospital in an "anonymous" NHS dataset, which can then be cross-referenced to databases of home addresses and workplaces. In an eyeblink, millions of Britons' records of receiving treatment for STIs or cancer can be connected with named individuals – again, forever.

Re-identification attacks are now considered inevitable; security researchers have made a sport out of seeing how little additional information they need to re-identify individuals in anonymised data-sets. A surprising number of people in any large data-set can be re-identified based on a single characteristic in the data-set.

Given all this, anonymous NHS data releases should have been ruled out years ago. Instead, NHS records are to be handed over to the US military surveillance company Palantir, a notorious human-rights abuser and supplier to the world's most disgusting authoritarian regimes. Palantir – founded by the far-right Trump bagman Peter Thiel – takes its name from the evil wizard Sauron's all-seeing orb in Lord of the Rings ("Sauron, are we the baddies?"):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/01/the-palantir-will-see-you-now/#public-private-partnership

The argument for turning over Britons' most sensitive personal data to an offshore war-crimes company is "there is no alternative." The UK needs the medical insights in those NHS records, and this is the only way to get at them.

As with every instance of "there is no alternative," this turns out to be a lie. What's more, the alternative is vastly superior to this chumocratic sell-out, was Made in Britain, and is the envy of medical researchers the world 'round. That alternative is "trusted research environments." In a new article for the Good Law Project, I describe these nigh-miraculous tools for privacy-preserving, best-of-breed medical research:

https://goodlawproject.org/cory-doctorow-health-data-it-isnt-just-palantir-or-bust/

At the outset of the covid pandemic Oxford's Ben Goldacre and his colleagues set out to perform realtime analysis of the data flooding into NHS trusts up and down the country, in order to learn more about this new disease. To do so, they created Opensafely, an open-source database that was tied into each NHS trust's own patient record systems:

https://timharford.com/2022/07/how-to-save-more-lives-and-avoid-a-privacy-apocalypse/

Opensafely has its own database query language, built on SQL, but tailored to medical research. Researchers write programs in this language to extract aggregate data from each NHS trust's servers, posing medical questions of the data without ever directly touching it. These programs are published in advance on a git server, and are preflighted on synthetic NHS data on a test server. Once the program is approved, it is sent to the main Opensafely server, which then farms out parts of the query to each NHS trust, packages up the results, and publishes them to a public repository.

This is better than "the best of both worlds." This public scientific process, with peer review and disclosure built in, allows for frequent, complex analysis of NHS data without giving a single third party access to a a single patient record, ever. Opensafely was wildly successful: in just months, Opensafely collaborators published sixty blockbuster papers in Nature – science that shaped the world's response to the pandemic.

Opensafely was so successful that the Secretary of State for Health and Social Care commissioned a review of the programme with an eye to expanding it to serve as the nation's default way of conducting research on medical data:

https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/better-broader-safer-using-health-data-for-research-and-analysis/better-broader-safer-using-health-data-for-research-and-analysis

This approach is cheaper, safer, and more effective than handing hundreds of millions of pounds to Palantir and hoping they will manage the impossible: anonymising data well enough that it is never re-identified. Trusted Research Environments have been endorsed by national associations of doctors and researchers as the superior alternative to giving the NHS's data to Peter Thiel or any other sharp operator seeking a public contract.

As a lifelong privacy campaigner, I find this approach nothing short of inspiring. I would love for there to be a way for publishers and researchers to glean privacy-preserving insights from public library checkouts (such a system would prove an important counter to Amazon's proprietary god's-eye view of reading habits); or BBC podcasts or streaming video viewership.

You see, there is an alternative. We don't have to choose between science and privacy, or the public interest and private gain. There's always an alternative – if there wasn't, the other side wouldn't have to continuously repeat the lie that no alternative is possible.

Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/08/the-fire-of-orodruin/#are-we-the-baddies

Image: Gage Skidmore (modified) https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Peter_Thiel_(51876933345).jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

[lizdive]

I saw your requests were open so, Could you make a dr ratio or Aventurine x reader who's a kid but very bossy and smart for their age? and ofc platonic!! :3

I did Veritas, but if you want an Aventurine version just tell me !! Requests may be closed but I can make an exception for this :3 Thank you for requesting and if you’re unsatisfied just tell me !!

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" used to refer to reader ,, reader is a child ,, reader is a child genius and from the genius society ,, reader is implied to be parentless / guardianless ,, platonic relationships ,, not proofread ignore typos

⭑ Really? You? A little kid? You’re the newest addition to the genius society? VERITAS feels like he’s being mocked by Nous at this point. Well, whatever. Not like he was going to interact with you or anything. He has no reason to do so.

⭑ You spot him walking outside your space and, assuming he was the one supposed to get you your lunch, yell out at him annoyance. He ignores you until you call him the purple haired one and then he realizes you’re talking to him.

⭑ You don’t even care that he’s not the one who was supposed to bring you your lunch as you boss him around, looking up at him as he gives you a flabbergasted and almost offended expression.

⭑ He tries to scold you but you just try your best to push him out of your space so he can get you your lunch. He goes eventually just to get it over with but he dislikes you now.

⭑ But it’s not like he can completely despise you, because you’re actually tolerable when you’re not bossing him — or anyone, really — around. You can hold up a pretty good and deep conversation for a child of your age and you’re willing to listen to others’ views (well, unless it’s about your personality.)

⭑ Soon enough, VERITAS actually finds himself warming up to you and vice versa. You’re a good kid. Bossy, sure, but he tries to blame it on you being a kid and not having anyone to properly guide you since you’re always busy with research. You’re influenced by those around you — it rare to find a researcher that actually cares about anything other than their research.

⭑ You both refuse to acknowledge it properly, but you both accept that maybe you both enjoy each others’ company.

⭑ VERITAS will help you out with your research, be it inventing something mechanical or creating something organic. If not physically helping you out, then supervising you and giving you ideas or suggestions.

⭑ Some of the researchers dread it when VERITAS comes to the space station because you both are insufferable together, especially when your goals align and suddenly there’s a silent agreement to help each other achieve that goal.

⭑ But at the end of the day, you’re a child. Which why whenever you act childish and immature, huffy or happy, VERITAS will do his best to be there for you. You’re young, and you didn’t have any support system before him.

⭑ He’ll try to be understanding — it’s hard for him since he’s used to being so focused on spreading knowledge and he has made people cry before without much comfort. But he’ll try, especially because you tend to seek him out for comfort. You trust him to comfort you and he’ll do his best to not disappoint.

⭑ He knows some kids burnout after time, and he doesn’t want that to happen to you, so he’ll make sure you don’t overdo it with your studies and research, as well as make sure you’re in a healthier environment. He’ll make sure that the researchers don’t put pressure on you — most of them are too busy shoving their noses in their own research however some of the researchers at the space station can be less than pleasant.

⭑ If you ever want to leave the station, VERITAS is more than willing and happy to take you with him. It’s a nice opportunity to expand your research and perhaps invest in another field. Also because it’ll give him the chance to take you out to some nice places and if you’re extra young, then maybe some fun play places and specific parks.

⭑ VERITAS wouldn’t mind having you give special lectures to his students if you ever told him you want to do so. He’ll stand to the side as you teach, getting you a stool for you to be able to write on the chalkboard.

⭑ Also, he’ll try to improve your bossy behavior. He doesn’t mind it too much as long as you’re not bossy to him, but he also knows that your bossy behavior can develop into an unhealthy need for control and he doesn’t want to risk it.

[drdemonprince]

Do you have any immediate thoughts about core identity and autism?

I have a great, neurodivergent friendly therapist - bottom-up, somatic, all that shit that's supposed to be good for autistic clients. But I've been stalled for the last half dozen sessions over the feeling that I have no core 'self', that I am so much a mimic of people around me that my internal self has no core qualities beyond the immediate drive to survive and avoid demands and sensations.

It comes out as "I have no inherent value" (c'mon, no one does) and "I have no inherent moral drive, I just know what causes me pain probably causes others pain, and I am aware other people are different enough from me that I have to believe them when they say something causes them pain, and I must avoid pain for myself and others"

I've been trying to express to my therapist that core identity terms are maybe better couched in vocabulary for computer programs or robots, but it's difficult to adjust therapy speak into that even with a curious and agile therapist.

I have been thinking a lot about animals lately. Animals that are not humans have no "core self." They have no thoughts of self-worth. If you truly look into the eyes of, say, a squirrel or a turtle, you will immediately recognize a great, living void. They are a collection of survival instincts, learned responses, and reactions to the present environment that have some general pattern of constancy but which are ever-evolving.

They do not exist for any "reason," they just exist. No instinct that they have is false, even one that is mimicked or new. They have no morality, only reactions that propel them and follow a sense that is senseless to us creatures with minds that are forever narrating and judging. They just exist and that existence is inseparable from their present physical reality. The same is true of each of us, our minds only complicate it.

I think it is very compelling to be much like any other animal. When I am alone, or feeding my most primal hungers (when I am famished, say, or craving a drink or cigarette), I have no worries of whether I am being authentic or valuable to society or even if I am good. I simply experience feelings and cravings. Life is lived through experiences, as a consciousness that can take things in and do things that affect reality in turn. Life is not lived via our identity or even our beliefs. The universe is horrifically indifferent to what we aspire to be, or believe is right. Entire species exist only due to mating rituals that require murder or rape, and the thriving of one species often spells the doom of others or even itself. It is disgusting and meaningless, being an animal. But in that void there is such stillness and great beauty.

I have been able to access this dark-eyed feral side of myself more lately. I have been spending more time alone, no longer even trying to mask to myself as the kind of social, giving being I had convinced myself I had to be, if my life narrative were to be that I got well. I don't care about being well. Or even being good. Those terms are playmobil level human made up stupid. When I touch that void, and dwell in it, I can see that none of it matters and none of those human judgments are real, and that the fiction of my core self does not really exist at all. And I find it very peaceful.

Lately hard core bondage really helps me get there, mentally, as do long swims and long walks late at night. Conversations with the rare few who are not afraid of almost any thought also help me get there. Most of all I just need time and fucking silence. There are pictures of me lately where I can see an animal. Not someone posing or trying to manage an impression. In those few photos I can feel some unnamable emotion that is real. It is that animal void that exists in all things, that is the breathing of life into flesh.

Therapy, I have got to say, is the stuff of small minds. I don't mean you, I mean your therapist. Therapy can only process in individual personality units, which are a fiction, and it believes that problems exist to be solved through an optimization of the self. You need to be confident. Need to know who you are.

I have often written like that, forgive me for it. But problems do not exist to be solved, they just exist, and some things do not get better, and there really isn't a better or a worse anyway, there is just a vast ecosystem responding to things. A great void of life always teeming, always changing. Great loss and growth and change, violence and birth.

And so I am not surprised to hear your therapist does not get it. The detached view you take of morality likely frightens them. But that might mean you are on a far more compelling path than what they would desire for you, which is probably self-esteem boosting exercises and tidy scripts for setting boundaries with your parents. That stuff is fine. But expecting too much from it is like asking a can opener to explain the universe.

Thanks for writing.

[k-eilonwy]

decided to get back to my roots for a bit and tackle redesigns of my all-time favourite mlp G3 dream team : 3 these five have shaped my early 2010s and helped me to grow both as an artist and storyteller (i started writing silly little fanfics and my own take on the then-hypothetical G5 based on G3 and these five characters in particular), so they have, and always will have my entire heart.

i came up my own kind of au version of G3 and here are some of my small headcanons for each character!!

Rainbow Dash:

her parents are Parasol (G1 pony) and Barnacle (G1).

she is the oldest (and the tallest!) of the five.

she is a major fashionista and diva, but with a hint of adventurousness and even ferocity behind those eyes. Dash is a fan of all things beautiful, be it bright colours, grand celebrations, and more down-to-earth values.

naturally, her craft is related to rainbows - she draws them with the special paint she makes herself, and it's a very rare knowledge among the Ponyville citizens (Unicornia's rainbow-creating magic works on the same basis as Dash's paint, she just makes it without the unicornian magic involved).

oftentimes she is the voice of reason for her friends.

in her free time she designs clothing in collaboration with Sew-and-So and funds/runs fashion shows.

isn't the biggest fan of sweets (thinks it spoils her figure and coat).

absolutely adores rainy weather (cause rainbows).

is a sap for romance and cheep romantic novels.

Spike:

was born in a dragon tribe living far from pony societies.

was born wingless and with water-based powers, while most dragons breathed fire and had wings, so he's an oddball amongst the common dragons.

the dragons were supposed to work with pony royalty/leaders and protect them. The way the dragons chose did it was passing a test of obtaining a very rare flower only meant to be gifted to the royalty - the Royal Everbloom, a flower which was near impossible to maintain/grow but could bloom for forever.

Spike failed to pass his test of safely delivering the Royal Everbloom back to the tribe, failing to protect the flower from a bad storm so it withered under hard rain. However, Wysteria noticed Spike struggling to keep the flower safe just outside her cottage and brought them both inside - nursing the poor dragon and the flower back to health. It suddenly bloomed under her care, so by the old tradition, it meant that Wysteria belonged to royalty.

cue the events of Princess Promenade pretty much the same as they went down in the original as Spike played the role of mentor and royal advisor to Wysteria. She still rejected the title in the end, proclaiming that Ponyville didn't need royalty to govern over them and that she was no more special than any other.

Spike is humbled (and charmed) by her worldview and decides that he rather enjoys the simple life of local ponies - besides, he has grown deeply devoted to Wysteria and doesn't want their friendship to end, so he parts with his tribe and lives with the purple gardener in her little cottage.

he greatly helps Wystie with gardening - his water-breathing powers come in handy while working with plants! He finds that even if he doesn't breathe fire like "normal" dragons, he still can make his abilities work in other fields.

he is often the brains of the group - his exotic dragonic upbringing is a great contrast to the ponies' more down-to-earth worldviews.

is a vegetarian (idk if all dragons in this universe are or it's just him, but-).

is a big fan of literature of all kinds, especially poetry.

generally is a huge nerd and is prone to rambling about his favourite subjects. Not the most outgoing person, more of an introvert, especially in contrast to most ponies (that's why they match their energies with Wysteria so well).

absolutely adores Wysteria, they are something of platonic soulmates/life-partners. Can be very protective of her, even though he is usually non-threatening/pretty chill (he is her personal dragon guardian!)

Wysteria:

her parents are Blossom (G1) and Salty (G1).

Petal Blossom (G2) is her maternal older cousin.

Wysteria took to gardening and flower arrangement since early years from her mother. Participated in a lot of local fair gardening competitions through her fillyhood and won the majority of them (the trophies are kept at her parents’ house). 

moved out from her parents’ house once she had managed to save up enough money to purchase a small but neat cottage at the edge of the woods; it is located near Ponyville, but quite far from its centre. Pinkie, Minty and Dash like to visit their bestie and her dragon friend on weekends and each time together they plan some really fun activities. 

during spring and summer seasons, Wysteria lives off selling flowers and bouquets at Ponyville’s biggest market. Once autumn hits however, she and Spike stay at one of their three closest friends’, Pinkie, Minty or Dash’s, house until next spring - each year they stay at a different pony’s house. Wysteria and Spike help out with chores and share household duties during their stays, but even regardless of that their friends are simply happy to let the two live with them.  

Wysteria is socially anxious and quite solitary, content with keeping a limited circle of friends to spend time with. Akin to Snufkin she requires a lot of “alone” time away from others, that’s why she likes living so far from the town. However she is very dependable and very very kind, so a lot of ponies confide in her.

hates. weeds. so. much.

often feeds stray and forest animals coming to her cottage. Is fond of bunnies and birds the most.

Pinkie Pie:

her parents are Cotton Candy Snr. (G1) and Slugger (G1). Is a twin sister to Cotton Candy Jr (G3).

Pinkie runs a gift shop along with Minty, her bestie since fillyhood and a life-partner.

works as a party planner as her second job - generally just love celebrations and organising events.

she is a natural leader and is able to make even opposing groups come and work together. Sociable and easy-going, pretty chill to be around.

isn't easily scared and usually doesn't believe things she can't see with her own eyes or try out.

has a MAJOR sweet-tooth: her sister runs an ice-cream cafe, so there's that.

has a "supernatural" ability to come up with a solution to almost anything, - using Pinkie's squink (basically just squeezing her eyes tight and thinking long enough).

is drawn to photography and films.

Minty:

her parents are Minty Snr. (G1) and Steamer (G1). Ice Crystal (G1) is her maternal uncle.

everyone's favourite disaster-monger.

works in a gift shop alongside Pinkie. Generally can't function well without her supervision lol.

Clutzy and socially anxious, but in a different way than Wysteria, Minty is obsessive, hyperactive and makes up for her awkwardness with her pony-pleasing attitude. Enjoys helping others out, it makes her feel important.

can't sit still for long period of time, needs an outlet for her excessive energy.

collects SOCKS.

winter is her favourite season; it reminds her of warmth and companionship of her friends huddled close by the fireplace. Exchanging gifts and stories. Making others smile.

is surprisingly good at checkers.

is claustrophobic, hates being limited.

doesn't enjoy reading that much, but rather likes picture-book illustrations.

[bubblez-bubble]

TIME OUT!

So I've been seeing a lot of posts about how the guild members were complete assholes to Natsu when he first joined because he couldn't read or write despite being taught by Igneel. And a bunch of these posts talking about how hurt and even traumatized he could be because of it.

This is something everyone keeps talking about, but you know what no one's been talking about?

The fact that this happened because he was failed by the adults around him.

Lemme explain.

But first...

SPOILER WARNING FOR THE ALVEREZ ARC!

Anyway

It's pretty well known that when Natsu joined Fairy Tail, he was picked on by Mira and other members for not being able to read the flyer for the job he was trying to take. Despite already being taught how to read and write, Natsu couldn't explain why he couldn't read the flyer, prompting Erza to step in and reteach him so the guild would stop making fun of him.

Well, during the Alverez arc, we meet Anna Heartfilia, one of Lucy's ancestors and the dragon slayers teacher. Initially, she was the one in charge of teaching the dragon slayers to read, write, and adapt to society.

When all of the dragon slayers finally meet Anna for the first time since they passed through the gate, they all recognize her as "Ms. Anna" but have no idea how they know her, she's just familiar.

Anna then explains to Wendy, the first dragon slayer to meet and recognize her, that when they passed through the eclipse gate, it may have altered/clouded some of the children's memories.

She then explains that as a result, none of the dragon slayers remember growing up together or being taught by her, including how to READ AND WRITE.

Natsu couldn't explain this as a child because he never knew he even passed through the gate until this revelation. He was so frustrated because he knew he knew how to read and write, but for a reason he couldn't explain or come up with, he suddenly forgot how.

Anna then goes on to explain that by the time she found each of the children, they were safe and living their own lives and felt no need to interfere. However, if she had, perhaps Makrov would have better been able to understand the kind of care and understanding Natsu needed and he could have been spared from most of the guilds taunting.

But instead, she chose to leave it be without explaining anything to the person taking care of the boy SHE was supposed to be taking care of and as a result, he was taunted and made fun of simply because Anna felt "it wasn't necessary to interfere" and instead of stopping everyone from being mean to a poor already fragile Natsu, Makrov just sat back and watched as if he thought leaving this to him would help him build character when in all reality Natsu was just a scared and confused little boy who couldn't understand why he lost his ability to read and write properly, and the only one willing to help him fix it was Erza.

Natsu was bullied by his own guildmates as a child because THE ADULTS IN HIS LIFE FAILED HIM.

If Anna had come forth with this information about the eclipse gate to Makrov when she found Natsu, him being bullied by Mira and everyone else could have been avoided.

Instead, however, it seemed that everyone thought what was best for Natsu was to let him figure it out and deal with the backlash. The only one who took the time to understand Natsu needed help and a proper education instead of being ridiculed for not having one despite claiming to have one was Erza. Who at the time was also a child.

None of the adults in Natsus life stepped in under the impression it was what was best for Natsu. However, another child could see clear as day that that wasn't the answer.

Anna even admitted that SHE KNEW there was a chance the dragon slayers could lose their memories after passing through the gate and STILL FAILED TO COME FORWARD WITH THAT INFORMATION UNTIL ALMOST 2 DECADES LATER.

Anna explains this was because she thought the children deserved "normal" lives and that just showing up out of the blue to take them away from the life they had built on their own was unfair. However, this doesn't excuse her negligence in explaining to the dragon slayers new care takers the sitituation and the possible side effects of passing through the gate.

And Makrov, even believing it might have built character, as the adult still should have stepped in when Natsu was clearly in distress while being bullied.

Natsu had lost his memories and was failed by the adults around him who were supposed to make him feel safe and loved. None of it was his fault but he was mocked and ridiculed for something the adults should have weighed in on.

The adults should have communicated with each other and Natsu about his feelings of isolation and feeling at the bottom of the barrel. Instead, he was just left scared, confused, and left to fend for himself.

Which this could be why he's so bad at communicating his feelings now. Because the adults around him never taught him to do so, leaving Lucy the only one to understand him as she also grew up where her feelings and voice went unheard.

What's more, when Natsu was trying to communicate his frustration about being confused, Mira simply mocked him, calling him out for crying and calling him a baby, even going so far as to talk to him in a baby-like voice and standing straight up to make herself seem bigger to make Natsu feel even weaker while she mocked him for having feelings.

HE WAS KICKED WHILE HE WAS ALREADY DOWN AND NONE OF THE ADULTS DID A DAMN THING ABOUT IT.

So he stopped talking about his feelings since he was made to feel weak for having them and no one seemed to care.

Natsu tried his best and was a verbal punching bag for it.

And he deserved better.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

[ghostyolive]

One of the things I always think about from the FMA manga is that Alphonse spent a much more significant period of time with the Devil's Nest gang than in Brotherhood. While the events in Brotherhood probably take place over a couple of hours, in the manga we know that Alphonse was with them for 2 or 3 days. We see him talking with Martel and Dolcetto about having a non-human body. What I'm saying is how much more horrifying was the arc for manga Alphonse as he steadily grew to see the personhood of this gang that kidnapped him. Yes, he cares about Martel because she's a person that he's supposed to protect and he's genuinely kind, but also how many hours did they just spend talking to each other? Did he see how Greed interacted with others and come to understand their trust? What was it like to see these people, outcast from society, acting as a friends with a deep, deep bond getting slaughtered without regard? I think that Alphonse should've been adopted by the Devil’s Nest gang.

[toxicanonymity]

Collect calls. jailbird pt. 2 of 3

3600, cellmate's nephew!Joel x inmate f!reader

brilliant edit by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog. custom tats!

SUMMARY: You kinda try to be careful over the phone, but you want each other too bad. So it's hard. Rock hard. Joel sends you a short letter and comes to visit again. Follows Jailbird, but this is 69% dirty talk (I did the math). You can prob read alone. PT 3 of 3 is Parole. WARNINGS: I8+ SO HORNY, hella dirty talk from both, phone sex, mild degradation/teasing, tension, masturbation, Joel is a slut and mentions getting blown, creative mail. Barely edited horny chaos but I wanna feed ya and this ain't fine dining. A/N: Part 2 of 3. Thank you for the love on Jailbird! And THANK YOU @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for the amazing edit omg. Make sure you see the Jojo gif 🥵 His specific tattoos and all 😍 joel master list, @toxicfics for notifs. PART 3 HERE.

When you got back from visitation, your cellmate Mabel's face lit up.  She was excited to hear about it, but when she looked you over, she said, “Oh boy, it’s worse than I thought. . . I’m gonna go play spades, honey. You do what ya need to do.” 

You shook your head, “Mabel. . .”

“Take your time,” she said with a wink. "Not that you'll need it." Then she stood up and stretched before leaving the cell.  

You got in your bed, on your side, under the blanket. You clenched your thighs together looking at the picture of a slightly younger him with not nearly as much silver in his beard. You put your pillow between your legs, rolled over so you were mostly stomach-down, and your hips moved as you put your head in the crook of your arm and recalled the way he looked at you, his strong hands, his tattoos. His voice. You wondered what it sounded like when it wasn’t through a telephone, but god damn, it did something to you. “ain’t nothin’ harder than mine, baby.” Fuck. 

You were already getting close, wouldn’t even need to use your hand at this rate. You thought about the way his arm flexed as his hand moved in his lap. Oh God, the bulge and outline in his jeans when he stood up. The way he adjusted himself.  He might be too big for you to take all of him, but god damn, you'd give it your best shot. You rubbed yourself against your pillow to the rhythm of his hand rubbing his lap in your mind, clenched your thighs again and you came, whining "Jojo" into your elbow. You heard it too many times a day to get it out of your head – He told you to call him Joel, but Mabel made it somewhat difficult. 

---

He was hot as fuck, but it was also cute how close he and Mabel were. It made him seem like a good guy, even though neither of them were particularly upstanding members of society.  You supposed neither were you by most standards, but it’s not like any of you had ever intentionally hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. That you knew of.  The fact that Jojo served time was hot and also put you at ease. It had to have been a while based on the spiderweb, unless he was just trying to look hard, but he didn’t seem the type to bullshit anything. How did you even know what type he was though? You hardly knew  him? You dreaded Mabel’s teasing but you could withstand it in order to find out more.

You got off once more while you were at it, taking advantage of the privacy.  Then you sat up, rested against the wall, and just looked at the picture. Unfolded, you looked at both of them. It was so sweet. He looked happy. His hand on her shoulder had the spade tattoo.  Your eyes fell on your own poke-and-stick clover from Mabel and your stomach fluttered when you saw the flared stem and circular leaves. It might as well have been a Club.  “Mabel,” you muttered and shook your head.  

While she was still playing Spades, you went over to her bed to look at the other photos up close. In another picture, they were at a barbecue in a parking lot. Joel was on the left and Mabel was on the right. Joel was wearing a wifebeater and Mabel was wearing a black t-shirt with a carousel pony on the right pocket.  

You hadn’t noticed before, but there were a few women in swimsuits and aprons in the background. One of them was looking at Jojo. Who wouldn’t? Mabel’s words echoed in your mind — of course he’d like you. You’ve got a cunt and  you’re not bad lookin'. you rolled your eyes. Shit. You resolved to put yourself in pro mode and try to detach. 

—--

Over the next week, you spoke with him several times on the phone. You tried to be careful. You wren’t sure if all calls were reviewed or it was just by sample. You figured it would be suspicious to ask. You hoped whoever listened didn’t mind some harmless horny talk.  The only stuff they should really care about should be scheming. Like making moves and putting out hits from the inside. Or smuggling from the outside. 

—---

He answered the phone, “There she is.”  A vaguely endearing greeting since you and Mabel called from the same collect number. 

“Hey handsome,” you responded. 

“I was just thinkin’ about ya, jailbird.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” he said deeply then sighed. “Ya just missed it.” Good God, his voice.

“Missed–”

“C’mon, baby. Use that pretty head. How bout I’ll wait for ya tomorrow?” 

Your heart skipped a beat.  “Yeah.”

“Just call at the same time.” 

“Okay,” you agreed with a smile in your voice. “It was nice to see you the other day. . .” 

“Oh, baby you got no idea,” he groaned. “I’m comin’ back next week.” 

“Are they gonna let you back?” you giggled.

“They’ve gotta! I didn’t do nothin’.”

“You didn’t. . .you’re right. . .” 

“Hey don’t give’em any ideas.”

"Right," you laughed. 

"What are ya gonna do when ya get out?"

“In general? Try to find honest work, I guess.” 

“Nothin’ dishonest ‘bout what you were doin’. But I hear ya, parole’s a bitch.” 

“You on parole?”

“Nah, long time ago though.” 

‘Yeah?”

“Kept my nose clean the whole damn time.  Ended up back in the can anyway.” 

"For what"

"Framed for fuckin' murder."

"What??"

"Relax, I was exonerated." 

"No shit."

"Yeah." He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "You ever danced?"

"Course I fuckin' danced"

"Where at?"

"In memphis."

"Oh, I dunno jack shit about that scene."

"Wasn't great."

"Guess that's where you uh, got your start though."

"Yeah."

"Well do what ya want but lemme know if ya need a gig."

'Thanks." 

He sighed. "I know it sucks not gettin' any in there. "

"Yeah."

"Are ya? Gettin' any? Girls, guards?"

"No," you answered, looking over your shoulder. "Think I could tell ya if I was, though?"

"Shit, sorry." 

"You gettin' any?" 

"Oh I'm a straight up ho." 

"Yeah?" You asked, intrigued.  "Surprised I hadn't seen ya at the clinic," you teased. 

"Cause I'm way the fuck 'cross town. Got our own clinic." 

"Good for you." A pleasant surprise that he stayed clean. 

"Yeah, on a first name basis. Make my girls go, too. Still wrap it most the time though." 

"Your girls."

"Dancers."

"Right." Mabel had mentioned he worked at a club. "Well, at least one of us is gettin' some."

"Shit, I was gettin' some sugar the other night," he said. "Pretty little head between my legs 'n I was lookin' at your picture."

Your heart fluttered. "No shit," you laughed. "My picture, huh?"

"Ohh, you don't even know. I want it bad, sugar, and I ain’t even tasted it." 

"Yeah?" 

"Shit I prolly think about it as much as you do . . .and I've got a life." 

"Who says I think about it?" You asked flirtatiously.

"I got ESP. Makes me tingle when ya do."

"Oh does it?"

"Ya think about me in the shower, in bed. . ." 

You laughed. "And where do you think about me?"

"Fuckin' everywhere. I've gotta have ya, baby. So bad it hurts." 

—----------

Whenever you came back to your cell after talking to Jojo, Mabel would leave to make a phone call or go to the common area to watch whatever outdated movie was playing in the common area. Often with a wink. She knew he got you all wound up. 

—----------

You called him at the same time the next day. 

"How's your week been," you asked. 

"Hard," he said, then his voice became hornier.  "So fuckin' hard. . . n' that's all you." You could hear his belt and zipper. 

"Wish I could help."

“i'm sure ya can once you're out. If you wanna hang out sometime.” You heard a bottle click open then squirt. 

You teasingly hummed as though thinking it over. "Mmmm. . . .I dunno, what would you wanna do?”

“I can pick ya up right from the slammer, ‘less ya got someone else.”

“I don’t.”

“Great, then we can just. . . i dunno, get to know each other,” he mused, then added at a lower pitch, “In the back seat of my whip. Stop off somewhere close.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” he said. “You don’t understand, baby. I’ve gotta see what’s under that garb.” His hand was sliding up and down his lubed up cock. “I’ve gotta feel it.” 

Butterflies swarmed in your chest and you sighed.

“What were ya wearin’ when ya got picked up?”

“Well. . . you already know what I’m in for. . .”

"Damn right I do, and you're gonna find out."

You laughed – at visitation, he said you were in for it. . 

"C’mon, jailbird. What were ya wearin.”

“A black microskirt"

"Mmm."

"Black mesh crop top"

"Yeahhh"

"Over a pink bra.”

“Ohhh, fuck,” he sighed. “Shoes?”

“Shit, I’m not–hmm." You tried not to overthink it. "Definitely platforms. Silver and clear, I think."

He gave a low whistle. "Sounds hot as shit." 

“And fishnets. Shit, that's all I had,” you laughed. "Maybe you can bring me something else." 

“God damn, that’s what I get to pick ya up in?”

“I mean, I wasn’t planning on the fishnets.”

“Commando in that skirt? Shit, that’s even better.” His breath grew heavier. "Fuck it, just sit on me while I drive," he murmured. "Yeah, fuckin' sit on *this* the whole drive–ugghh." As if avoiding the word cock would make this conversation passable.

You sighed and tried to hide your arousal from the Corrections Officer (CO) standing 8 ft away. 

"Can't get it in ya soon enough, baby." 

"Mmm," you said quietly. "Can't wait."

"Jailbird, you're fuckin killin' me." He moaned. "Hot as hell. . . fuck."

"You sure I can take it?"

"Fuck, I dunno, baby," he panted. "It's a lot."

"I could tell"

"Uugggghhh," He groaned and you heard his hand sliding faster on his dick. "And what'd ya think about that ?"

"Oh, I’m up for the challenge,” you cooed saucily. "Just get me nice 'n ready."

"You ready right now?"

"The second I heard your voice."

"Fuck, I gotta know what ya taste like"

"Mmm."

"Yeah," he panted.,"And when you're nice and ready, then what?"

You lowered your voice to a near whisper. "Oh, just fuckin' wreck me. Split me open, baby." All you could do was clench your thighs together.

"Ohhh god"

"Don't hold back"

"Ohh fuck–couldnt if I tried." He sighed.

You had lost all restraint and just prayed whoever reviewed this call would be cool.  

"Just stuff me full of it," you whispered. 

"Fuck, yeah."

"Stretch me out." 

"Ohh yeah." 

"Pound me so hard i can’t see straight."

"Shit." He moaned and his hand moved faster. 

"And then? Fill me the fuck up. I wanna feel it." 

"Fuck yeah," he panted "i'll be seepin' outta ya for days."

"Then you better fill me up again." 

"Jesus, fuck–ohhh." 

"Don't tell me you'd spill it this fast."

"Oh fuck you," he laughed in good humor. "I'm not spillin' shit." You could still hear his hand. 

"Not even if I'm sittin' on ya while ya drive?"

"Not even." 

"Not with one hand on the wheel and one on my tit?"

"Ohh fuck," he breathes.  "No, no. . ."

"And I'm moanin' your name with every bump in the road?"

"Mmmm, fuck, baby."

"Oh ya like that?" 

"Fuckin'--fuck–fuckin' love it."

"Wouldya mind slidin' that hand down between my legs?" 

"Wherever ya want it, baby."

"Ugh, those big hands," you whispered. "I just know you can use'em."

"Fuckin' right I can," he panted.  

"Hope ya don't finish while you're drivin' with me in your lap."

"All ya gotta do is sit still."

"Imagine the mess if you came." 

"Fuck, baby," he sighed.

"Every time we hit a bump, more would spill out in  your lap.”

“Ohh, fuck."  Then a long, drawn out moan like he was coming. You were throbbing wildly. 

"Knew ya were close," you laughed. Then you heard a heavy smack on his end of the line. Then there was nothing but breathing for a minute, then it sounded like he was writing. 

"What are you doing now?"

"Addressing an envelope."

"You're not mailing me your–"

"No I'm not mailin' you my" he laughed,  "Load."

"Just a letter?

"Yeah. . . Just a letter." 

"Mmkay. . . How 'bout a picture?"

His tone was warm and flattered. "Oh I can throw in a pic. But it's not gonna be the kind ya *really* want."

"Booo," you pouted.

'Think you'll like it anyway."

"Yeah, I can fill in the rest." 

Your time was up. 

—-------

You went back to your cell and sighed as you sat down on your bed. Mabel started to leave but you said, "no, you're good." You'd rub one out later. You wanted to ask Mabel if he really liked you, but you wouldn't let yourself be vulnerable like that. You were still trying to detach.  

"You're right, he's cool," you said. 

 "You like him, don't ya? He likes you, too.”  

She reached under her mattress into the fitted sheet and got out her poke and stick supplies. “C’mere, let's just get it over with,” she said. 

“What, uh, what do you wanna give me?”

"J. . . O. . ." 

Your whole upper body heated up and you laughed under your breath, "Mabel." She was mostly kidding. 

—-----------

Visitation day came and you weren't nervous, just excited. He was wearing a too-small, black softwash t-shirt, black jeans, and a chain.

“Be good,” the guard warned Joel as you picked up the phone on your side. 

"Yes, officer,” Joel replied with a respectful nod, then sat down. You noticed his rings as he picked up his phone. “We gotta be good,” he said with a wink.  

“So be good,” you told him vacantly as your eyes roamed his tattoos. 

He stared at you for a few seconds, hungrily taking in the mundane sight of you in your garb. He shook his head like he couldn’t believe it. 

“How’d ya get hotter? Chicks don’t get hotter in lock-up, much less in a week.” 

“What, and men do? It’s in your head.”

“Well yeah, we work out like mad.” 

“Guess you’ve got me there.” 

“Not talkin’ 'bout your body. It’s bangin’, but, I mean–no makeup and you’re pretty as hell.” 

You smiled and shrugged, "thanks," then whispered, "but I think you're just horny," with a wink.  He returned the shrug. 

A few seconds of silence passed as he checked you out. You salivated over his arms stretching his shirt. He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “Whatcha thinkin about?”

“I’m thinkin’ ya look like a slutty bouncer. . .You get this shit at Spirit Halloween?”

Joel chuckled. “Well . . . you know what *I’m* thinkin’ about.” His eyes glued to your chest. 

Yeah, yeah, he’s gotta see what’s under that garb. “Yeah, you’ll see it, honey," you said. 

It was a struggle knowing what to say–you wanted to “be good” and not get cut short, but you also wanted to indulge in your fantasies. 

Joel asked, “Where ya wanna go when ya get out?”

“Anywhere. Got some place in mind?”

“Could take ya to my place. Mabel taught me a mean pot roast recipe.” 

You smiled. “You’re makin' me hungry.”

“Oh I’m starvin’, baby.”

"Long drive?"

He exhaled with a puff of his cheeks. "It’ll feel long that day."

“I’m sure it will,” you purred, looking down as if you could see through the booth right to his cock. You wet your lips. “So what’s between here and home?”

He took a deep breath, thought for a second, and told you what highway it was. 

“Oh, okay,” you nodded. “There’s a seven eleven right outside the gate here. 

“There sure is," Joel nodded. "Clean bathrooms too. I checked on my way.”

“You did not.” 

“I’m tellin’ ya," he nodded. "Stopped for gas. First thing I thought about. Swear I think about it as much as you do.” 

“So what’s in the bathroom?”

“Steel handicap railing about hip height”

You raised your eyebrows, intrigued.

“Pretty sturdy to hold onto, or even sit on.” He looked over his shoulder “Like if someone needed a rest or whatever.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Right," you said softly as you nodded. 

"Diaper changin' thingy, too."

You scrunched your face up. 

"Like if ya needed to bend over it and stretch your back.” 

"Ah," you nodded. "Nah."

“Parking lot?”

“That close to here, it’s gotta be crawling with pigs.” 

“Right,” he said in a trance, looking at your mouth. 

“Alright, where else is there," you asked. 

"Rest stop. They got picnic tables near the woods if ya need to, uh," he looked down, "Sit down," he said quieter, "n' take a rest." 

"Oh, I won't want a rest." You slowly shook your head and your eyes lingered on his chain. 

He groaned softly and rested his chin in his hand. He whispered, "You're killin' me here." He scratched his beard and you tingled at the sight of the silver patches, his pinky ring, his hand tattoos–the faded barbed wire.  You sighed. 

"You bein' good?" He asked. 

"Yeah." You resigned yourself to harmless small talk for a few minutes, but it was obvious what you both were thinking about.  There were long silences where you just stared at each other.  

“Just a few more weeks and I’m yours,” you teased. 

His eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows. “You serious?”

Oh, shit - you didn’t wanna scare him off.  Really didn’t even mean it like that, but, you also didn’t mind the thought of him as a boyfriend. 

You nodded and teased, “yours to do what you please.”

He blew out a puff of air. "God damn, baby. I don't think you know what’s comin’ your way.”

“Can’t wait to find out, though.”

“Oh, you’re gonna find out.”  He dug his hand into his lap but didn’t move it. “Shit.”

“Sorry.”

“Never be sorry.”

The guard barked,”Hands where I can see’em,” and Joel obediently raised his hand and put both elbows on the table again. 

"You ain't gonna want no one else again." 

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness which actually turned you on. 

"Don't say I didn't warn ya," he cautioned. 

"Okay," you shrugged with a contemplative frown. 

"Shit, I might be in the same boat." He swallowed and looked like he meant it. Like maybe you were doing something to him that hadn't been done.

"Get my letter yet?" Joel asked. 

"No." 

He smirked, then it faded as he checked you out for the hundredth time. He shook his head, sat back, and took a deep breath.  "This is fuckin' torture." 

"Then it's a good thing I waited til now to ask about ya." 

"the best torture," he clarified, his forehead beginning to glisten. "I'm gonna fuckin explode when I'm back in my ride."  He looked at the unopened box of tissues on his side of the booth, intended for crying visitors. "Thank God I didn't ride the hog." Fuck, he had a motorcycle, too? He held the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder while he opened the plastic on the box and tried to get the tissues started. Then he took three tissues out.  Your breath hitched at the thought of his cum. Was it silky? Stringy? Watery? Sticky? What'd it taste like? Ugh. 

"HANDS," the guard said when he saw Joel finish pocketing the tissues. The guard stepped forward. "Say goodbye, let's go."

"Fuck." Joel sighed and closed his eyes. "Sorry, jailbird." 

When he stood up, you could see the outline of his hard dick on his thigh. You took a deep breath and pried your eyes off his crotch to briefly meet his eyes. He winked and you managed a small smile before eyes fell right back to his jeans as he adjusted himself. Fuck. 

—---------------

Joel’s letter came a couple days later. A photo fell out of it. Black and white. He was sitting in a chair and smoking with one hand holding the cigarette up and his other hand resting between his legs.  Arms blazing in a white t-shirt. Squinting at the camera. He looked hot as hell despite having all his clothes on. He looked like a model. 

The letter was on plain white printer paper, and the letter was short: 

Be good, jailbird. I'll take ya anywhere. 

Sweet, and also sexy. God, you wanted him to take you. 

You flattened out the letter and admired his poor but legible handwriting. Not as bad as some you'd seen. His handwriting was hot.  It was cute that he didn't use any special stationary.  He was a simple man. And God, what a man. You ran your fingers over the words,  and they caught on a different texture.  Something on the paper.  You smelled it and it wasn't cum. It was, like, lotion or Vaseline. 

Wait. You held it up, and your breath hitched. 

You looked behind you to make sure no one was watching, then you stood up, got closer to the light, and held it at an angle. Holy shit. It was his dick print, diagonal across the paper.  A bolt of desire shot through your body.  It was transparent but the different texture was visible. You could see the head, then most of the shaft. It was detailed, there was texture. Even a couple of veins. 

You sat on your bed, leaning against the wall with your knees up.  You rested the paper against your knees at an angle with the tip pointed between your legs.  You just wanted to get a sense of the size–and boy did you–but the sight of it, God. Just the silhouette of it lined up right there made you feral. You needed it so bad.  Needed him.  Who the hell mails a dick print? Fuckin’ Jojo, he was gonna be the death of you.

-----

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your engagement really keeps me going, I love y'all.

This AU is due to @beskarandblasters and @wannab-urs and their hilarious list of new joel tropes. But I played myself because he's actually hot and I want him?

Notes

The slapping sound after he came was him letting his cock slap onto the paper.

There are a lot of correctional facilities where they wouldn't get away with all this so you gotta suspend disbelief.

The strip club will be an alternate timeline of this Joel set in the past.

-----

I hear tags aren't working for some people. Please consider following @toxicfics and subscribing to notifications. Must have tumblr push notifications enabled on your phone.

-----

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret

[f4c4r]

Arranged marriage

Not so long ago I read about a Man in Australia who was sentenced for arranging marriages for His two teenage daughters - because they had not agreed.

If you've been reading my blog for 5 minutes, you'll probably know what I think about this. To me, He was being a good Father and honourable Man, ensuring the future safety and security of His daughters. Western societies tell Men They are supposed to take care of Their children and when They do - this is what happens.

I 100% believe ownership of adult females should be arranged by their Fathers. females are the property of their Father first and it makes perfect sense He should be the one to decide who will get to own them next. mothers should have no say because females are far too emotional about such things. We will let things like His age or looks get in the way. The Father on the other hand, will think of practical matters. Will this potential Husband/Owner be able to afford to take care of her? Will He treat her in the way she has been accustomed to being treated at home? Will this Man take His duty to continue her training and discipline, seriously?

I looked up statistics and was surprised to find there are less divorces or breakdown in marriages that have been arranged. India has one of the highest rates of arranged marriages with a low divorce rate and the majority of divorces are between couples that chose each other for love. India reports around 6% of divorces are from arranged marriages and the US reports only 4%. In both Western and Asian countries, arranged marriages are seen as more successful.

[redheadspark]

hi there! for the September prompt session may I request a Benedict Bridgerton with #8 please? thank you!! <3

A/N - I love this, thanks for the request, anon!

Sliver of Light

Summary - Sharing your feelings with someone else would be daunting, but not with your soulmate

Warnings - Angst and fluff mixed together.

Emotions are such a funny thing, especially when your emotions are linked to your soulmate.

It was something your mother and father warned you about: two Soulmates knowing and feeling the emotions of one another.  It was a fascinating trait, seen as a valuable trait when it came to couples and families.  Your parents were great examples of it, picking up each other’s signals throughout the day when one was in distress or angry.  You found it to be wonderful that your parents relied on one another in more ways than one, using more than one way of communication.

You found yourself doing the very same thing with your now husband, Benedict Bridgerton.

Of course, you were taught about it in your younger years by not just your mother but also by your Aunt.  Only your mother and Aunt had soulmates, which were very rare to come by and seen as a sign of good luck and grace amongst society and prosperous families.  To have family members who were soulmates meant you were very blessed and highly favorable, especially with the Queen herself.  Your family already was well-known thanks to your parent's soulmate match and the family's massive deeds in charities and benefit balls.  But now that you were married to another well-known family that had a handful of soulmates within the family tree, your status skyrocketed.

Not that you cared, you only cared about your husband and your marriage to him.

Benedict, like his siblings, seemed to have a massive heart and thirst for mischief and amusement.  Being the artist of a massive family, not to mention more aloof than his brother, you were surprised to be soulmates with him.  Compared to Benedict, you were quieter and meek so to speak, not one to raise your voice or make your presence known in the room.

He never minded that one bit when you two were introduced back in Art School.  You were one of the few females allowed in the classroom, mostly because of your family name and the amount of money your father donated to the school to keep running.  Yet you were still a bright student, not wishing to coast by and get what you wanted because of who your family was.  The classes were tough and brutal, and your skill was placed to the test at every session and seminar.  Benedict saw that about you, reaching out to shake your hand in his after the first day of class, wishing to introduce himself to you.  

Once you two shook hands, you were soulmates.

Having a link to Benedict’s emotions almost seemed like a breath of fresh air, opening a window that brought in the fresh air from outside after being cooped up for too long. It felt that way, being a lady who was meant to wear many hats and not be raw and entirely yourself.  Feeling Benedict’s joys, pure happiness, frustrations, and anger, you were spellbound.  

It was the same with him feeling your feelings, you seeing him watch you for a pinch longer when you two were courting together very early on, right after you realized you were soulmates.  You were still supposed to court one another, just like any other relationship, yet there were still a few steps that needed to be taken.  Registering as a soulmate couple when married, taking a few classes in Soulmate Eddiquet,  Not that you two were worried about those extra steps and hoops you had to jump through.  

Seeing Benedict watch you, for the first time as you two were sitting across from one another enjoying a quiet moment with tea, made your heart flutter.  He was already handsome to you, bright eyes with dark brown hair, features of youth yet it was laced with wisdom, dressed in shades of blue, you shifted a bit nervously in your seat.

“Is there something on my dress?” You asked sheepishly, looking down at the dress that you were wearing.  Benedict only laughed, your eyes shooting up at him as he faced you in his chair.  His smile entranced you, and the sound of his laughter sounded like bells that seemed to be from a dream.  He shook his head and folded his hands in his lap.

“Your thoughts,” he replied, your eyes going a bit wide as he went on, “I think your thoughts are very lovely, profoundly lovely,”

Perhaps being soulmates with a Bridgerton would not be so bad.

Your first year of marriage was hard work, but it was wonderful as well.  Both you and Benedict fell in love with each other over time, before and after you said your vows.  Enjoying time together throughout the day, going to balls and events linked in arms and amusement on both your lips, it seemed so natural to have this life shared with another.  Even with the small spats and arguments, you both knew when to bring the other out of the darkness.

You remembered times when he was frustrated, whether it was with his art and starting a career as well known artist or with the constant drama in his family.  You knew that he was never one to feel negative sensations, it was not like him at all.  Easing him out of those moments included cups of tea, long walks in the countryside outside your apartment home, and simply holding his hand.  You felt those thoughts scatter away like slips of flower petals in the wind, and the smile was back on his face within moments.

With you, you had a harsher time when it came to continuing your feelings.  Your grandmother sadly passed one summer evening, suddenly and in her sleep.  It pained you since you were close to her growing up and leaned on her for wisdom and love.  That feeling of pain was engulfing you for days after her burial, thinking it would take some time to feel happy and cheerful.

No doubt Benedict felt it, and he immediately came to your aid.  He took a step back from working on his pieces and attending family events to be at your side, reading next to you in your personal study when he sensed you felt alone.  He would ever prepare your tea just the way you liked it, not too hot with the perfect flavor, with fresh flowers in your vase in your study when you were working on letters.

But most of all, he held you.

He was an affectionate lover and relied upon physical touch more than you ever would, and his hugs brought you peace.  In the morning when you had fresh tears, in the garden when you were lost in your mind, after dinner when he could tell you were tired and weary. 

“I’ve got you right here, my darling,” he cooed in your ear one evening when you were crying in his hold, both of you in bed as the rain pounded on the window.  His fingers were running in your hair and his chin was on top of your head, you heard his heartbeat against your ear as you wiped the tears away softly, “Loss is hard to live through, I felt it when I lost my father.  But you’re not alone, I won’t let you be alone.  Not ever, my love,”

Since then he never once made you feel less then.  Things were getting brighter for you both in the following months.  It seemed even in those dark days you were finding a small sliver of light, thanks to your soulmate and the true love of your life.  

And having two children within a few years, a boy named Edward and a girl named Adeline, you grew that light would only shine brighter.

The End

September Prompt Session