#the first non-violent touch she’s had in years

[iridescenceartandwriting]

Working with expressions, playing with a touch starved Rodina.

I like to think this is immediately after she cuts all of her hair off.

I imagine that hair is status, long hair with complex braids show who you are and all you’ve accomplished. After promising to take Priya away from the island, to go south to the mainland and let her live free of the laws of the North, she cuts all her hair and braids off. A sign of disgrace, of banishment, the ultimate disownment of being stripped of all her life’s accomplishments.

And she does it to herself, for Priya, the night they run away.

I don’t think she’s told Priya yet, how deeply she cares, but how can she not know when Rodina looks at her so sweetly like that?

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Miscalculation

AN: I don't write nearly enough for Felix. Luckily, that SKZCode lab episode planted this idea in my head, and it's taken a viciously hold on me. Also, just to be super clear, despite Reader being a year old experiment, she's very much an adult. She came into the world that way. Also also, I edited this while sleepy so, hopefully it's coherent lol.

Synopsis: Your first heat hits you unexpectedly and violently one day. Thankfully, your favourite person pays you a visit in an attempt to comfort you through it. However, you both severely underestimate just how much your heat affects you. Especially around him.

General tags and warnings: Lee Felix x Fem! Reader, Scientist! Felix, Cat hybrid! Reader, lots of unethical research, Reader is an experiment, Felix tries his best to humanise Reader, doesn't really apply here but, since Reader is an experiment and Felix is a scientist there is the potential for a power imbalance, Reader is in heat, Reader is manipulative and maybe in love with Felix and not much plot.

Smut tags and warnings: heavy dubcon, mentions of masturbation and exploration of sexuality, virgin! Reader, kind of sort of fingering (f. receiving), humping/grinding, over the clothes touching, scent kink of sorts, clothes being ripped, nipple play (m. receiving), Reader takes charge a lot throughout this, little to no foreplay for Reader and a very unrealistic first time, piv sex without a condom, marking and clawing (m. receiving), biting (m. receiving), one mention of blood, possessiveness from Reader, dirty talk, praise and creampie.

Word count: 3.8k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Everything burns. 

Your blankets are a crumpled mess on your floor because you're certain you'll shred them into pieces with your claws if they so much as touch your overheated body right now. The persistent buzz of the air conditioner brings you no comfort. Sweat dots your forehead and you'd take off the oversized shirt that clings to your body within an instant if Doctor Bang, red faced and avoiding your frustrated gaze, hadn't insisted on some sense of propriety. Aren't these men supposed to be doctors? Trained medical professionals? Have they never seen a naked body before? He's lucky that he's the only one out of the three older men that you can somewhat stomach because if Doctor Lee or Doctor Seo had suggested you cover yourself, you would have hissed and clawed at them. 

A frustrated noise builds from the back of your throat when you can feel your sheets starting to grow damp underneath you. You've already had to change them five times in the past two days and, you feel like you're losing your mind. Actually, you just might be. Worse than the burning that emanates through your entire body and the non-stop sweat that clings to your skin no matter how many ice-cold showers you take, is the perpetual ache between your thighs. You're not stupid. This lab may be all that you've known for the entire year of your life but, you have basic instincts and common sense. Coupled with all of the sessions you're forced to sit through with Doctor Bang in an attempt to understand you and aid you in understanding yourself, you're more than aware you're aroused right now. Or ‘wet’ as Doctor Lee and Doctor Seo put it, much to the dismay of the older of the three. 

You just don't understand why. 

In the rare moments that you've wondered about your sexuality and sex in these sterile walls, it's rarely gone beyond a few curious pokes and prods at yourself. It's mostly been a neutral experience and you didn't derive much pleasure out of it. You're sure your limited knowledge and experience on the matter has hindered your ability to enjoy masturbation much but, it's not as though the four men will just give you the material or knowledge to help pleasure yourself. You're not even sure you care all that much.

Except for when you do. Thinking back to quiet nights where the silence and loneliness of the lab was too much for your mind to handle and masturbation crossed it as a hope for distraction. A brief escape from the life you've been forced to endure. So, you tried it. Flashes of a kind smile and blonde hair making your stomach twist in a way that wasn't unpleasant, just unfamiliar. Full lips and memories of a deep voice causing arousal to trickle onto your inexperienced fingers. You'd even managed to make yourself orgasm once. It was one of the few sincerely pleasant moments you've had. 

The rest centred around him too. 

“–she's deep in heat right now, Lix.” You recognise the voice as that of Doctor Bang. Your ears twitch atop your head in interest at the conversation he's having with the only doctor you've grown fond of. You're always grateful for your hearing abilities in moments like these. 

“We can't just keep her in the dark,” Felix argues and your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Electricity zipping through you just at the sound of his voice and the knowledge that he's just beyond your bedroom door. The throbbing between your thighs worsens. 

“I know,” Doctor Bang sighs, “but, we won't be getting a shipment of suppressants until three days from now. We're just going to have to wait it out.” 

“We?” Comes Felix's incredulous reply, “We're not the ones suffering right now. I went to visit her last night Chris,” your eyes widen at the confession, “She was burning up and covered in sweat and, she's only had to deal with two days of it. You know it's not fair to her.” 

“What do you want us to do, Felix?” The older man argues, his voice heavy with frustration. 

“Treat her like a fucking person,” the younger man argues just as frustrated, “Tell her what's going on. We know she's incredibly smart. Maybe she has some biological way to make herself feel better that we haven't thought about or explored.” 

Silence stretches between the two for a few, long moments. 

“I don't think that's a good idea,” comes Doctor Bang's resigned reply, “Look Lix, I know that you care about her and the two of you have always been close. Too close for what could be considered appropriate,” you snort at that. Now he cares about ethics and what's appropriate? How funny. “But, Minho, Changbin and I care about her too. She's not just some experiment to us,” you find that hard to believe, “We just know when it's appropriate to step back and keep our distance. This is one of those times. We're going to try and help her through it as best as we can but, we're going to wait for the suppressants then feed them to her. That's it. End of discussion.” The sounds of footsteps echoing through the hallway are all that accompany his words. 

Well, at least you finally know what's wrong with you. You're in heat. Something they've apparently known you're capable of experiencing and have been suppressing since you gained consciousness. The fact that they're so blasé about letting you suffer in your room and wait days until you're able to find any kind of reprieve boils your blood in a way that has nothing to do with your biology. Yeah, so much for caring about you. You haven't even seen Doctor Seo and Doctor Lee since your symptoms first started. You don't even notice your claws prodding in your anger. You should have attempted to escape on those rare trips Felix had taken you outside of the lab. Consequences be damned. At least you'd have a shot at a normal life. You should have never let his warm eyes and compassion keep you coming back to this hellhole. 

Your furious, internal tirade is interrupted by your door sliding open. You don't have to turn around to know that it's Felix. His scent always betrays him before anything else. The familiar mix of bamboo and vanilla hit your senses. However, unlike the other times you'd bask in his scent, now it worsens the thundering of your heart and you notice the slick between your thighs increasing. 

“Hey,” he says gently, shutting the door behind him. All you can think to do is stare at your wall wide eyed as his scent grows closer with every step he takes towards your bed. Saliva begins to pool in your mouth just at the smell of him and the soft timber of his voice adds to the pit forming in your stomach. Your hands desperately grabbing at your arms in an attempt to calm you down. It's just Felix.  

“I just wanted to check up on you,” he adds when his greeting is met with silence. You have to fight extremely hard to not let your tail move wildly and to keep your claws retracted when he sits down on the edge of your bed. Fuck. He's so close now and his scent is overwhelming. The smell that used to bring you comfort now puts you on edge. A feeling that you've only felt sparks of now sets your entire body alight and the ache between your thighs starts to become unbearable. He needs to leave before your heat causes you to do something very, very stupid. 

“I know you've been struggling a lot lately,” the apologetic tone to his voice melts your heart and your impulses yell at you to crawl into his lap and nuzzle at him until he no longer sounds upset, “I'm sorry. We should have told you this when it started but, you're in heat. That's what's causing you to feel this way,” he explains, as though you hadn't overheard (more like intentionally listened in on) his conversation with Doctor Bang. 

“I know you're probably mad at us, at me,” you want to tell him no, you could never be mad at him but, you're afraid that if you speak now, you'll say something you can't take back, “I'm truly sorry. The suppressants will be here in a few days. Till then though, I'm here for you,” he says softly, laying a hand gently on your arm in what you assume is an act of comfort but, it has the complete opposite effect. 

Your blood turns molten in your veins and the fog that's been on the edges of your mind swallows it whole. All you can think about is getting your hands on him. Touching him. Feeling him. Mating with him. You've never felt more animal than human. 

One of the major perks of being a cat hybrid, you've come to learn, is your quick movements. Before Felix can process it, you're sitting up and pressed to his side within an instant. The confusion and concern on his handsome face is so endearing. He's so cute. You just want to devour him. 

“Felix,” your voice sounds near unrecognisable to even your own ears, “I want you to help me with my heat,” you practically purr into his shoulder. Grasping his arm and delighting in the pretty flush that spreads across his face. The ache of your canines extending doesn't bother you in the slightest. Your mind focused on nothing else but, the man that's been your lifeline for the past year. 

“I–I um I ca–can't do that,” he explains, his voice sounding strained. His attempt to pull his arm away proves to be futile. Not that he was trying particularly hard anyway. “But, Lix,” you whine, pushing your body closer to his, your breasts pressing against his arm, “Didn't you say you'd help me?” 

The way he attempts to stammer out a reply just makes him so much cuter to you. Nothing but, instinct driving you to press yourself even closer to him. Delighting in the shudder you feel run through his body when your breath hits his exposed neck. “Don't you want to help me, Felix?” You ask with a desperate edge to your hoarse voice, one of your hands travelling down the span of his lab coat until you reach his soft hand. Moving it until it's between your slick covered, inner thighs, “It hurts, Lix.” 

Felix, for his part, looks absolutely shell-shocked. Warm, panicked brown eyes staring at you unblinkingly but, he doesn't move his hand. Not even when your own is no longer holding it. Your body moves on its own. Hips chasing the brush that his fingers offer. Your lashes fluttering at the pleasure courses through you. You feel so sensitive, even his barely there touch is enough to cause you to gush further onto his fingers. 

And Felix watches it all. Watches the way you clumsily try to hump his fingers. Watches the minute expressions of relief and desire and frustration that all cross your beautiful face. Watches the way your canines sink into your bottom lip. Feels the way your sharp claws dig into his lap coat. He doesn't miss a thing. 

Impulse and maybe a fraction of ration desire push you to tug on his button up shirt and kiss him. You're moving completely on what feels natural and what you've seen a couple of movies he's watched with you. It takes him a second to kiss you back. Tentatively following the movements of your lips and guiding you in more comfortable and enjoyable directions. You swallow his stuttered groan greedily when your tongue invades his mouth. Searching for more of him to explore. To taste. To burn into your memory. 

As nice as it feels to kiss him like you've thought about far too many times in the silence of your room and, use his fingers and hand to help satiate the persistent ache that sits in the pit of your stomach, it still all isn't enough. Not even close. This time, you moan into his mouth when one of your hands snakes its way down the front of his body until it comes to rest on his lap. A particularly painful throb coming from the apex of your thighs when you feel how hard he is beneath your touch. 

“So you do want this just as much as I do,” you sigh dreamily against his lips, sparks of desire shooting through your entire body with every palm of your hand over his clothed cock. All of his adorable, little noises making your walls clench. You don't think you've ever felt pain like this in your entire, short life. Saliva pools in your mouth as his scent wafts to you. Much heavier and headier than earlier. Beneath the anxiety and fear, the arousal makes its presence known clear as day. 

“W–Wait, I–” Whatever he was going to say is cut short by you shoving him onto your bed. His wide eyes, pupils blown out and completely swallowing his irises, meeting your lidded ones as he watches you straddle his slender hips. You've always thought he was a good-looking man but, he looks even better like this, underneath you. 

Your eyes practically roll into the back of your head when you press down on him. Your drenched folds coming in contact with the evident bulge in his dress pants. Resting your palms on his stomach, you start to move. Chasing the friction against your clit desperately. Not caring all about the mess you're making of his pants. Your eyes focused on watching the way he tries very, very hard not to lose himself in the way you grind against him. His hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he lays there and let's you use him. 

Fuck. What a cutie. 

His eyes shoot to your face when you use your claws to rip his blue button up open. While the colour looks absolutely lovely on him, you much prefer the sight of his bare chest. Your tongue running over your teeth at all the skin that you now have access to. 

“He–Hey, I think we should calm d–down a bit and–” Felix tries to interject, the drop in octave of his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you. You disregard his words easily. Leaning down to shut him up with your mouth while your hands busy themselves with exploring his chest. Your canines nipping his bottom lip when he gasps into you while you trace his nipples with your claws. Sensitive too. Perfect. 

“Why stop when I can feel how hard you are for me, Lixie?” You whisper against his full lips, fingers tracing random patterns into his nipples. His hips jutting up to meet your drenched core every time you touch him a little too harshly or drag yourself along his entire length. 

“Don't you want to just give in?” You ask, meeting his blown out eyes as your hands move their way along his lithe body until they reach his belt buckle. 

“I–I–” he stutters out when you sit back up so you can gain a better view of his frustrating belt. He must see you preparing to rip his pants off too because he stops you immediately, “I–It's okay, I got um it,” he quickly responds. You shift down him a little to provide him with space to unbuckle his belt. Fortunately, he doesn't take too long. You're sure your impatience is rolling off of you in waves. 

Much to your surprise given how bashful he's been, he tugs his pants and boxers down in one go. His hard, pre-cum covered cock slapping against his stomach in his rush, his eyes pointedly looking at everywhere but, you. 

It's one thing to feel him, it's a whole different matter entirely to have his cock right there, ready for the taking. And take, you do. It's adorable how red his face is and the way he sneaks glances at you shyly when you shift back up his body until your dripping pussy is hovering over his twitching cock. Your shirt sticks to your damp body uncomfortably and, the reminder that you're still wearing it is an unwelcome one. So, you simply tug it off. Exposing yourself freely and readily to his shy eyes. 

Not that he's all that shy when you're bare for him to fully drink in. Bruised lips parting as he watches you grasp his cock with an impatient hand and align it with your dripping hole. He doesn't stop you when you begin to sink down onto him. Strained whimpers falling from his pretty mouth with every inch you eagerly swallow. The stretch only stings a little. The sensation of his scorching cock dragging along your walls more than makes up for it. It's your turn to moan once he's fully sheathed inside of you. Your clumsy attempts with your fingers don't hold a candle to this. 

The way Felix chokes on your name when you start to move will forever be etched into your memory. The pleasure clear as day on his face spurs you along with the desire to feel him inside of you for as long as you can. To make love with him in this awful place that only he gave any semblance of meaning to. To mate with him. 

You lose yourself in the way his cock feels easily. Fluttering lashes threatening to shut every time he hits a spot inside of you that makes your pace falter and your claws dig into his soft stomach. The faint, pink lines that decorate his skin cause you to preen. They look gorgeous on his skin. They look like they belong there. Like they were meant to be there. Based on the way his hooded eyes switch from watching the expressions your face morphs into, the way your breasts bounce with every movement on his cock and the way you swallow as much of him as you can, you don't think he minds or cares all that much. 

Your skin grows impossibly hotter when his hands touch you. He's careful. Watching for any discomfort but, there's none to be found. If anything, you revel in the gentle hold his hands take of your hips. Not controlling your movements but just enjoying touching you while you bounce on his cock. 

You might actually love him. 

The thought prompts you to lean down and smash your lips to his once more. The metallic tang of blood lets you know that you nipped him too hard but he doesn't care all that much. Letting you take everything you need from him right now while he lets you. You can feel the way he throbs inside of you. He tries to stop himself but, you notice the way his hips sometimes jerk up to meet you, to move with you. And the knowledge that, on some level, he wants you just as much as you want him sends you into overdrive. 

His sharp inhale echoes through your room when you sink your canines into his neck. The punctures aren't deep but, they're more than enough to satisfy you. You're not sure why or how you knew to do that but, instinct has been your driving force all night and you're going to continue to trust it. 

“We're mated now,” you sigh, thumbing his flushed cheek. 

He just looks up at you for a moment, attempting to digest your words before responding, “Mate–Mated?” 

“Mmm,” you hum in confirmation, purring when you notice the way his twitches like crazy inside of you, “You're my mate now, and I'm yours,” you explain breathlessly. A tension you're barely familiar with building in the pit of your gut that you chase. 

“But we fuck can't–” his sentence is cut off by the drawn out moans from the depths of his chest, his eyes rolling into the back of his head when you pick up your pace. He looks so attractive like this. A bruise already forming on his neck and his chest littered with faint marks from your claws. He's gorgeous. 

“I'm ah cl–close,” he gasps out, his glazed eyes meeting yours and his hands desperately gripping your hips, “You need to shit st–stop,” he manages to stutter out. You think it's amusing that he thinks you're going to stop now. Especially when you're just about to get what you want. Leaning down to his ear, you whisper, “Why, Lixie? You look so cute like this. Why would I ever want to stop?” You smile when you hear the way he whimpers and his cock pulses harder inside of you, “Don't you want to cum inside me?” His hold on you grows tighter, “I want you to. I want you to cum inside me until it's spilling out of me,” you emphasise your point by intentionally clenching around him, “For days.” 

That's all it takes for him to break. His cock throbbing as he shoots his cum into the deepest part of you. A mix of his whimpers and strangled moans of your name tickle your ears as his cum fills your eagerly awaiting pussy. Your tail swishes in glee and your ears twitch in happiness. Your own orgasm creeping up on you when you feel the last of his cum spill into you. Truly, the late nights alone in your bed could never compare to this. To him. Your first orgasm could never hold a candle to this. Your entire body is riddled with quivers and shakes, your wetness gushing onto Felix's softening cock. Your thighs are sticky with cum and you're drenched in sweat but, you've never been more at peace. 

For some time, your shared laboured breathing is the only sound in your room. Fondness bubbles up inside of you when you glance at his flushed, sweaty face. His golden hair sticking to his forehead while he takes some time to come back to himself. Your fingers move before you can even think about it. The fog retreating slightly while you play with his hair and enjoy the simple pleasure of watching him while your combined releases trickle out of you. Much to your displeasure.  

You smile at him when he finally blinks his eyes open to meet yours. Your fingers ghosting over his mate mark as something primal and affectionate simmers in the pit of your stomach. He really is yours now. Your tail wraps around his leg without you even noticing. 

The smile he gives you is small but, it's still one of his smiles and the way your heart hammers in your chest lets you know he really was meant to be your mate. 

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Stray Kids Masterlist | Ko-Fi

[cissyenthusiast010155]

I am SO excited that the Mafia AU won for your Lady D fic poll and I CANNOT wait to read it!

My Little Toyslut ~MobBoss!Alcina Dimitrescu xFem Spy!Traitor!Reader (Mafia AU)

Summary— The infamous, mob boss Lady D finds out she had a traitor in her midst. What will she do when she finds out it’s Reader, one of her closest and most trusted advisors…? Anon Response— Hi hi hi anon!! I am so glad to hear how much you look forward to my Alcina!MafiaAU fics! Here is another one, it’s another one shot (doesn’t take place in the same plotline as the first), but it’s still an Alcina!MafiaAU fic. Hope you enjoy! ♥️

Link to First Alcina!Mafia Fic (;

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, wee bit of angst, eating out (oral sex), implied smut, kissing, teasing, degradation, light torture themes, light hate sex theme, light non-con theme, implied overstimulation, fear, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

You were swaying in the air, your wrists bound by tight rope which in turn was hung around a rusty ceiling beam. Your head was ringing and your vision was blurry as you began to wake up. Part of you vision was clouded from your dried up blood, a consequence of having been hit in the head. That's how you had lost consciousness.

You tried to wiggle at your restraints, but it seemed that the more you fought, the tighter the rope pulled against your sensitive and now raw wrists. In dismay, you turned your attention to the room around you, trying to memorize and remember every detail as if your life depended on it.

Realistically, it probably did. The most infamous, powerful boss in the city had found out you were a spy, undercover for the Agency. You had spent years infiltrating Lady Dimitrescu's inner circle of corruption. It had taken immense push and pull over the years to gain her trust. And then another fucking idiot of a mob boss had found your name out, and in spite and seek for vengeance, he had given you up. One of Lady D's closest advisors... He wanted to watch her empire crumble, and you were his choice of weapon.

You were torn from your thoughts as the only door in the room opened and two goons entered, followed by none other than Lady D. The two men gave you sleazy grins as they stalked towards you, but Dimitrescu had other ideas...

"Leave us."

The goons turned around with grumbles, but listened as they left the falling apart room, slamming the door behind them. Lady D's gaze then turned towards you. Your breathing was shallow and you lowered your head and gaze in turn. She slowly stalked towards you, making the hairs in the back of your neck bristle with pure fear. You were trembling, hanging mess by the time was right in front of you, towering over your hanging frame.

"I must say I was... surprised when it was your name that came up in my recent meeting..." She purred warily.

You still kept your head down and did not meet the woman's gaze. You wouldn't dare. Afterall, you'd seen her slaughter men for far less. When you made no response, Alcina cocked her brow in satisfaction and she continued.

"I must admit... You had me fooled. Not many people can say that... not many who are alive anyway..." Alcina hummed, as her claws ran up from your cheeks down to your feet.

You shuttered at the touch, closing your eyes and preparing to feel the pain of being slashed to bits. But instead, you heard the sound of her claws retracting. And then you felt her stern hand on your chin, roughly forcing your head and gaze up to meet hers. You fought against the restraints and her hold, but to no avail, they were both far stronger and far more resolved.

"Look at me, Draga!" She sneered.

Your meek gaze met the powerful woman's. You bit your lip and tried not to cry or shake too violently. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, as if she had been crying.

"I invited you into my empire, into my bed... and this is how you repay me...??" Alcina jeered.

You couldn't stop the tears that came pouring down your face anymore. They flowed all the way down to Alcina's fingers, where she curtly would wipe them away without another word about it.

"I... I-- I'm sorry--" you stammered, your eyes looking around frantically while trying to make sense of what she wanted from you.

For a mere moment, you saw the rawness of hurt flash across the woman’s facade. But it was quickly replaced with rageful apathy.

Before you could comprehend what was happening, she dropped your head and sliced something above you with her razor sharp claws. Your limp, trembling body hit the cement ground with a crack!. You were still bound by the wrists, but you were no longer hanging from the ceiling.

In one swift move, the lady grabbed you by the wrists and pushed you up against the dirty wall, so that your were outstretched from her one hand tight hold on your wrists, your toes barely touching the floor.

You winced, letting out a guttural and painful groan, and tore your head to the side, screwing your eyes shut tight. You could feel the woman’s heavy, hot breath against your neck. Her face was right up in your personal space.

You waited for your doom with bated breath, tears still running down your cheeks with no plan to stop anytime soon. But instead of doom, you suddenly felt Alcina’s hot mouth on your neck. Her slippery tongue licked and irritated your sheening skin, as her mouth sucked tightly, creating the exact vacuum of pressure for the perfect bruise.

At the first hickey, you didn’t know how to respond, your body simply limp, still, and silent towards the menacing woman. But by the second bruising, this one the lady placed right on your collarbone, you couldn’t help the breath you sucked in, accompanied by a shiver running through your spine.

But slowly, bruise after bruise, Alcina started to warm your body up. By the time she got to your pressure point, you had craned your neck back for her access and were overtly breathily groaning out after each marking, your eyes threatening to roll back. You could feel the tight coil in your core slowly building as your breathing shallowed and your body came alive.

Alcina sliced your clothing off piece by piece with no further comment, and you took it from her, not daring to oppose. With more exposed skin came more slow and meticulous sucking and marking. By the time the powerful woman got to your thighs, you were an aching mess. But you bit your lip, resisting the urge to beg, as you knew better to talk unless instructed to.

“Who do you belong to, Draga…?” Alcina growled into your now exposed cunt, her hot breath alone to make your core clench around nothing.

You suddenly felt dizzy, and very subservient. The lady tended to have that effect on you. You had hated it at first, as your job was to take her down by spying on her. But overtime, you had learned that Lady Alcina Dimitrescu wasn’t as bad as you originally thought. Or at least her tongue and fingers weren’t…

“I… y-you my lady—“ you whimpered.

“That’s right… So what’s this when I hear someone else is claiming to own you and your services…?” She cooed wickedly, as her free hand gripped your left thigh until it bled.

“N-nothing ma’am—! I belong to y-you and you only…!” You pleaded, trying to fight back tears.

“Good girl…” Alcina hummed, before sliding her lengthy tongue all the way into your core.

You couldn’t help how your body reacted to the woman and her wicked administrations. You shuddered, hating just how good her slithering tongue felt inside your cunt. Your head hit the wall with a light crack! as your eyes effectively rolled back, a filthy moan spewing out from your lips.

“That’s right… My little toyslut… aren’t you…?” Alcina chuckled darkly, pulling away her tongue from your cunt momentarily.

The whimper that erupted from your throat at the loss of stimulation made you want to throw up. But all these feelings were quickly stifled by the intense pleasure of two of the lady’s fingers filling your core. You nodded your head vigorously, willing to do and say anything as long as she continued to make you feel this good.

The first orgasm that Alcina pulled out of you hit you like a brick, your body spasming against the wall and her firm hanging hold on your wrists. You desperately tried to stifle your sounds of pleasure, but your pleasure was so intense, you couldn’t contain your screams.

“That’s it, my little whore… Be a good draga and take it.” the tall mob boss wickedly cooed.

By her increasing speed and your curling toes, your fractured mind could barely piece together the fact that this woman was not stopping anytime soon…

~~~

Alcina Dimitrescu Masterlist

[froody]

I think Tommy’s death was a trauma within itself. It feels strange to say that about the non-violent passing of a pet but the whole thing fucked me up in a way I haven’t recovered from.

My best friend of 6 years. The only real purpose in my life in that moment. Missing her insulin and evening meal for the first time. Searching for her for hours, finally going to bed at 1 am, assuming she just needed to hide for a while because she’d been through so much lately. Waking up to find her food hasn’t been touched. She’s missing her second dose of insulin and she hasn’t eaten. She’s in bad shape. I need to find her. I can’t find her. She’s not meowing like she usually does when she’s stuck somewhere. She’s a screamer. That’s how my dad found her in the rafters when she was a kitten. Finally I get on my hands and knees to look in the hole behind the water heater and she’s there, lying under the water heater, obviously dead and had been for 12 hours. Her eyes are open. Her mouth is open. I touch her and she’s stiff and cold. I carry my cat upstairs in full rigor mortis and I know she died alone sometime during the early evening the previous day and I had slept while she went into rigor across the house. I sit next to her and I cry. I call my mom and I’m crying so hard I cannot breathe and she says she’s jumping in her car and I should call my dad and talk to him while she’s driving. I call my dad and he says she’s been sick for a while and it’s probably been coming for a while and I should get a new cat. I hate him. I hate that man in the moment. I’m sitting next to my dead, stiff, cold best friend who had mouth surgery days prior and he’s telling me to get a new one. A new Tommy. Such a thing can never fucking exist. And it never will. And the reason I woke up in the morning, my purpose in life, to give her her meds and feed her and love her. Gone.

I don’t think I’ve recovered mentally. I disassociated so heavily afterwards and I’m still not myself. The whole Daphne bullshit did not help the healing. I love Philomena and Odette but they’re not Tommy. Nothing will ever be Tommy again. That is the permanence of death. A closed door on your favorite room.

[beenbaanbuun]

hi! i wanted to ask something about yeosang

since he's a werewolf, would he change in full moon? would he have ruts? how would the family take care of it?

now, yeosang may not transform when the full moon hits, but he certainly acts more primal. even after he’s grown used to being around the family and coddled by darling, he can’t help himself when it comes to that time of the month.

the day before, he’s always a little grumpier. seonghwa can’t ruffle his hair without yeosang snarling at him, hongjoong can’t make a snarky comment without getting a snooty remark in return, and darling can’t irritate him as much as she usually does without him pinning her to the floor like a disobedient pup. not that she particularly minds being pinned; it only adds to her fun when he’s leaning above her, anger racing through his expression as he reprimands her.

but the day of the full moon is when the three of non-werewolf residents really need to watch out. if his mood is bad leading up to it, it’s absolutely foul when it actually hits. yeosang will go back to his old biting habits, baring his teeth if anyone does anything even vaguely in his vicinity. if seonghwa accidentally steps on that creeky floorboard whilst walking to his favourite spot on the chez, yeosang will snap his jaws. if hongjoong puts a chess piece down a little too loudly, yeosang will snarl. if darling dares to touch him, we’ll, let’s be real, he won’t do much more than pin her and bare his teeth, but it’ll still be much meaner than usual. the scolding will actually feel real for once, even more so than those empty threats he chucked her way during the first few weeks he was there. safe to say even she tries to avoid him when it’s that time of the month.

as for ruts, yeosang does experience them but it’s nowhere near as painful and violent as media makes it out to be. sure, it’s unpleasant to have a permanently hard dick for a week, three times a year, but he’s not bed bound or anything. he can still get up and move around and interact with the rest of the family without jumping darling’s bones. he’s just a little more… desperate… in a way that makes him completely and utterly submissive. like sure, he wants to breed but he’ll beg for it first. and yes, he wants darling to be in his arms 24/7, but if that means he needs to act as her personal teddy bear for a week then goddammit he will. he hates his ruts for this specific reason; he can hardly pretend to be the big bad wolf when every bone in his body is telling him to do whatever it takes to have his precious pup curled up nice and safely in his arms.

and hongjoong and seonghwa let him have what he wants, if it suits them. during the day when they’re both busy, he has to be good; keep his dick in his pants and stick solely to cuddling her by the fire. of course, yeosang will obey. in the state he’s in, he’s so desperate to keep darling with him that he’ll listen to whatever it is seonghwa and hongjoong tell him.

but as soon as one or both of them are free to monitor that he doesn’t go too far, and providing darling is okay with it, yeosang has free reign. the poor thing is so desperate that he barely lasts long, but it doesn’t really matter because it’s just as much about getting his partner off as it is himself. he explained it as ‘proving himself’ when hongjoong had asked why he was so desperate to make darling cum too. the man supposes that’s as good of a reason as any…

[isimpfortoomanypeople]

Hey if your still taking requests please could u write non abusive Nate Jacobs x reader where the reader struggles with anxiety and just how he would comfort her just really fluffy

Thank u have a nice day/night :)

You’re safe with me- Nate Jacobs x Fem Reader

You’ve always had anxiety for as long as you could remember. When one bad anxiety attack happens during lunch all you need is the one person who knows how to comfort you.

Warnings: anxiety attacks mentioned in detail, negative self talk, mentions of periods, the reader not having the best parents, girls at school being jealous of yours and Nate’s relationship, and Nate being incredibly sweet and comforting (he maybe out of character but enjoy the fluff)

A/N: I want to thank you so much for being incredibly patient with this request. I love this request and as someone who also has anxiety all I want is for Nate to comfort me in this way. I hope that you enjoy this request and I apologise if it isn’t good as I’ve taken a month off from writing but I’m back now. I’m from the U.K. so I’m sorry if any parts sound overly British, also I apologise for all spelling and grammatical mistakes as I’m super dyslexic, enjoy.

You don’t know how it happened. One minute you were laughing at something your friend said, the next minute life felt like a dream. Your friend who was once sat by your side now felt like they were miles away, as their voice became muffled and distant as the imaginary distance increased.

The pressure in your head increased as if your whole head was submerged under water, as if an imaginary force pressed your head under water refusing to let go. You wanted to scream but it felt like your lungs were burning, as your skin pricked in a hot sweat, as your breathing rapidly increased. You were pretty sure that you were hyperventilating but you couldn’t force yourself to breathe, your gaped mouth desperately trying to swallow down some air but to your distress you simply couldn’t breathe.

The room felt like it was spinning around you as the LED bulbs of the cafeteria burnt your eyes, your body willing you to run away but instead your body was frozen to the spot in fear. Dropping your head against the cool cafeteria table while your whole body shook with violent waves of anxiety.

You could have been laid there with your head on the table for seconds? For hours? Time seemed to be moving incredibly slow as if the whole world has long left you behind, leaving you to be consumed by your anxiety that you begged to stop. All the techniques that your councillor has taught you was long forgotten, too overtaken by the throws of your anxiety to look for the nearest red object or 5 things you could feel.

“Babe?” A concerned voice called out to you, it was muffled and faint but at least it was audible. You could recognise whose voice was calling out to you, the only person who was able to comfort you when you were in complete distress, the only person who could break through the thick concrete walls that your anxiety created between you and the world.

———————————————————————————

You struggled with anxiety for as long as you could remember, you’ve always had a nervous disposition as a child but it wasn’t till middle school did you realise that anxiety had a name. That every time you grabbed on to your mom’s leg as she dropped you off to preschool, crying and begging her not to leave you, or when you panicked when you first gotten your period believing that there was something was seriously wrong with you. All those times where you were told to act your age or told to stop crying over something small, you came to realise that it wasn’t you being pathetic or whatever names was thrown at you. You had anxiety and saw a therapist as young as 13 years old to help create coping skills when the world came too much to bare.

———————————————————————————

It was very touch and go, mostly good days where you could easily distract yourself or take yourself outside for a few deep breaths, whenever you felt your heartbeat start to race and your breathing hitching slightly. But on bad days it feels like all hell breaks loose, nothing could calm you down. It’s awful it feels suffocating, you can’t breathe and it genuinely feels like you’re dying, especially when there is no warning sign of a potential flare up.

Sometimes it’s stress of having everything piled on your shoulders with heavy responsibilities weighing you down, the down side of being a people pleaser is that you could never say the word no. Sometimes it’s the overwhelming pressure that your parents pushed on you, nothing you did was ever good enough or why couldn’t you be like your sister who effortlessly achieved straight As and was cheer captain and prom queen.

But today you overheard the sly comments and remarks chiding about your relationship with the king of East Highland Nate Jacobs. No matter how many times you told yourself that they were jealous of you and their downgrading comments was just a way of projecting their own insecurities, as they didn’t know how to deal with it so they found it easier to push someone else down rather than acknowledge their own issues.

But their comments slipped its way through the cracks of your critical thinking and clamped down on your anxiety, making your mind turn and your thoughts dark. You’ve always felt deep down that Nate was too good for you, you were a shy wallflower who easily blended into the background. Nate was much better suited to a pretty cheerleader rather than you. so it’s just a matter of time before Nate wakes up and faces the facts, and it won’t be long till he’ll throws you to the wayside where you belong.

“Babe?” Nate called again, his voice remained steady and calm not wanting to aggravate your anxiety further, but it was apparent in his voice that he was growing in concern over your condition.

“Babe I know that your anxiety is bad, but do you think that you could walk out of here and to somewhere more calm?”

You slowly nodded your trembling head as you squeaked out a shaky “yes”. Feeling Nate’s gentle arms slowly wrapping around your waist offering support as you slowly arose from your seat.

Nate walked by your side, slowly taking each step at a time. Allowing you to take it at your own pace. With his arm wrapped around your shoulder allowing you to press your body weight against his, as he gently guided you towards the nearest empty class room.

You both sat down on the floor in the dark classroom that was partially illuminated by the natural light that the overcast sky provided.

Your head pressed against his chest feeling both his heartbeat, but also the rhythmic flows of his steady breathing. He held you close to him while you breathed in his calming scent of his cologne which never failed to give you some sense of security as to you it smelt like home.

“Okay babe I’m gonna to need you to copy my breathing, can you do that?” He softly asked you. You nodded back in response not having the energy to answer him back, as it took every part of your energy to feel each inhalation and exhalation, so you could match your breaths precisely to his.

“Okay breathe in and out, just like that” he slowly rocked you back and forth in an attempt to comfort you, while his free hand gently wiped away your falling tears.

After a few moments your breathing finally fell into a normal steady rhythm with help from Nate’s deep breathing, while he softly whispered “you’re okay, you’re safe here with me” in your ear. Your peripherals were no longer blurred as life slowly faded back into reality, no longer in this hellish dreamscape you were in moments before.

Relief flooded throughout your body as you slowly came to realise that your anxiety attack was over, just in time for the post anxiety embarrassment to kick in.

“I’m sorry” you were able to croak out, your voice still horse from uncontrollably shaking and crying just seconds before.

“You have nothing to apologise for, I’m just glad that you’re okay” Nate soothed, still holding you tightly in his arms while rubbing comforting circles on your forearm. He left out a small sigh of relief, relieved to see that you were okay. For it truly broke his heart to see you in such a deep pain that he knew that he couldn’t take away from you.

“You shouldn’t have to look after me, I’m nearly an adult for Christ sake I shouldn’t be this pathetic. I should of handled it better-“

Your frustrated rant of self hatred was cut by Nate pressing his palm tightly against your lips, stopping you from talking so awfully about the girl he loves.

“I refuse to listen to you talk shit about the girl I love. Y/N you have anxiety it’s not your fault, it’s never been your fault why or how these attacks happen. I may not be able to take you away from your own mind” you quietly giggled at his small attempt of defusing the thick heavy atmosphere.

“But I promise you babe that I’ll be here whenever you need me to, I’ll always be here with you. You’re never alone. Now let’s go and I can get us some ice cream and I’ll allow you to watch one of those god awful romcoms that I know that you like so much”

You playfully scoffed, rolling your eyes at him elbowing him in his side. But you couldn’t help but laugh at his remark, he was the only person in your life who actually made it this whole shitshow bearable for you. You were eternally grateful that life had gifted you introducing Nate Jacobs in your life. That you were his and he was yours, even if your head sometimes made you doubt that.

“Hey don’t talk about Clueless like that, I swear that I saw you smiling intently at it a few weeks ago”

Nate groaned at your comment, playfully giving you a shove. He helped you up to your feet, still refusing to acknowledge that deep down that he had a soft spot for those kinds of movies.

“Hey it’s okay your secret is safe with me” you joked back at him.

your smile quickly died down as the realisation hit you. Your eyes darting towards the ground, playing with the cuff of your sleeve, rocking back and forth on your heels retreating back into yourself”

“But Nate you don’t have to do that for me, I feel bad enough about taking you out of lunch and plus my parents will kill me for skiving-“

“Y/N look at me” you reluctantly brought up your gaze to meet his, your eyes softening upon seeing his brown eyes filled with a loving tenderness.

“I don’t have to this, but I want to do this. I want to look after my girl. I love you so fucking much and I want to spend the rest of the day by your side. Your own health comes first so screw your parents and screw the school. Come on Y/N you can either come with me willingly or I’ll have no choice but to carry you to my car”

Your heart grew over hearing his words, it felt like it was beating out of your chest. But this time it made you feel giddy and loved, you couldn’t help but throw your arms around him holding him closer to you.

“Thank you, I love you” you smiled looking up at him

“I love you too babe. You know that I’ll do anything for you” he returned your loving doting smile as he lifted his lips to tenderly kiss your forehead.

“Now let’s get going”

A/N: it feels good to be back. Also as always my requests are always open. I have a cute funny Bradley Rooster Bradshaw fic, a angsty Gareth Emerson fic on the way.

[acrossthewavesoftime]

I know that he's nothing at all like his historical counterpart, but do you enjoy the portrayal of John Graves Simcoe in Turn (even if it's just for the sheer outrageousness)?

Hello there Anon!

Indeed, I did - when I first watched TURN, Simcoe was what kept me watching beyond the pilot. I generally tend to enjoy antagonists in media of any kind more than the protagonists; my five-year-old self reasoned that the coolest role in Mozart's Magic Flute, which I had gone to see with my father, was the Queen of the Night because she had the best aria and the coolest costume, and I suppose my taste has overall remained fairly constant throughout the decades.

I was not at all interested in Abe as the main character, but Simcoe hooked me, because I enjoyed the way his character, for all his eager readiness for committing acts of violence, was written to have some sort of moral compass (albeit not one facing to everyone else's north), and also could be gentle, vulnerable, and even prissy at times - I also enjoyed Hewlett giving Simcoe his comeuppance in the end. In a way, he combined almost cartoonish traits with a, at a second glance, much more complex personality.

It was TURN that got me into researching Simcoe, starting off the thought "surely, he cannot have been that terrible, right?"

And, surprise, surprise, he was not. I still enjoy the character, but I wish the series would have worked more closely with the historical material (and portraits - Simcoe in TURN and Simcoe in history have next to nothing in common visually - the historical Simcoe, though quite tall, had brown hair, brown eyes, a much more average physique and was, as opposed to the show's indestructible villain, a severe asthmatic who frequently struggled with his illness) and the writers given the Simcoe-character an entirely fictional name instead.

From what is known historically about Simcoe, Hewlett, who is also a fictional character, was a lot more like the historical Simcoe, down to trying to win the heart of a local lady in Oyster Bay, being very attached to his horse, and (or so Simcoe presented himself in his own memoir at least), and being always happy to avoid violence wherever possible.

The more I learned about him, the more I was disappointed in the historical research (or lack thereof) that went into the show, because so many mischaracterisations and mistakes could have been avoided using some readily available literature - think e. g. John André's terrible little braid or gay General Sir Henry Clinton (who, y'know. Had 11 children by 3 different women). Those were unfortunate, because the show marketed itself as being based on a true story, but I enjoyed the storyline (and the characters of Simcoe and Mary Woodhull in particular), which I took with rather than a grain, an entire shaker of salt, and thus kept watching.

The only thing that continues to irk me to this day is how Samuel Roukin talked about the historical Simcoe in interviews at the time, betraying little to no understanding of the period, which gave him the impression (and thus inspiration for his role) that the historical Simcoe must have been a relatively unpleasant, pompous, even violent man based on having read his memoir of the American Revolutionary War - which more than anything was a campaign stunt as Simcoe wrote it in order to put himself on the political map back in England as he was eyeing political office following his return from the war, and Roukin misinterprets certain period typical turns of phrase and the tone severely.

The historical John Graves Simcoe could be a tad too loud, too boastful and slightly tone-deaf at times, but generally speaking, he was a very caring individual with a rather liberal view on women's rights, to use the term somewhat anachronistically, who had grown up in a loving, somewhat non-traditional family and passed this loving environment on to his own children. Perhaps one of the most touching details of Simcoe's character to me is that he appears to only very rarely, if at all, have used his first name; in his signatures, "John" is usually abbreviated to "J.", while "Graves" is spelled out. He was named John for his father, who died at sea when he was a young child, and Graves for his godfather, Samuel Graves, who stepped up and helped raise him. I suspect that he went by "Graves" rather than John, and felt attached to the name as it was given to him in honour of the man who would raise him, and even shelter and nurse him back to health when he was invalided back to England - but that is only my speculation on the, more than doubtlessly extant, softer side of John Graves Simcoe's character that his biographer Mary Beacock-Fryer documented extensively.

I would like to close with a quote from one of his letters to General Clinton which I think says a lot about the historical J[ohn] Graves Simcoe, his flaws and positive traits alike, in which he reflects on the American Revolutionary War, which he characterises as

"a swindling transaction in which mankind was robbed of its happiness and my King of his inheritance, under false pretenses of patriotism in G[reat] Britain, military talents in the Congress leaders, and integrity in both."

[0xstarzx0]

LOVE ME LIKE I DO | ONE SHOT|

Rafe S3 x Yandere reader

{OPEN COMMAND (please l’m bored)}

[English is not my native language ❗️❗️]

synopsis: If he doesn’t love you as you love him, just give him a little reminder, maybe he’ll understand who he belongs to this time.

Ok then, it’s really creepy to read, it’s the first time I write this kind of thing and it’s probably the last time. It’s really weird and not suitable for an uninformed public, so if you’re sensitive please don’t read this, I’m fucking serious. Don’t.

tw: murder, stalking, mental issues , weirdos, mentions of sex , mentions of murder , insults, violent, non-con, kidnapping, yandere.

______________________________________________

Rafe knew he had a problem, but you. You were crazy. You proved it to him several times, instead of scaring him, it turned him on.

You were also very jealous, so much so that once you tried to fight with a girl who watched Rafe for too long.

Simply put, Rafe wasn’t the only one who was crazy, you were a crazy couple. Who could kill to protect each other and vice versa.

But Rafe wasn’t as in love as you were, he was definitely possessive and strongly attached to you but he wasn’t obsessed with you. On the other hand, you were.

To say that you didn’t want to cover up several times without him noticing, or even spy, would be a lie.

You had the location of his phone, put a camera in his room with a microphone.

You were a psychopath. Rafe compared to you was a little gambler.

You could only take it out on your mother, the only memories you have of her are all the times she keeps telling you not to give up when you loved someone.

If it took 20 years, then it would take 20 fucking years.

When you lost access to Rafe’s location, a few things were weird. When you went to Tannyhill and the house was empty, you quickly understood what was going on.

Rafe had abandoned you, after all you had done for him. You had literally killed for him, you even had to hide a body for him.

And he to thank you was gone??? No Rafe you do not know who you belong to?

______________________________________________

Rafe had returned to Outer Banks.

As soon as he set foot on the island, he had sealed his fate.

The camera you had in his room was still working, and so was his microphone. You get up an hour instead of him every morning, just to see him get up and change.

You were just wet to see his abs or his hard dick in the morning.

Today was a day like any other, you plan to spy on him and take notes. You noticed he melted the cross you stole with him and sold it with Barry.

You followed him around the streets of Charleston. Making you as discreet as you could. You don’t understand why Rafe turned around and started looking around.

You hid as fast as you could and Rafe left.

______________________________________________

You felt your heart filled with sadness and hatred. Your whole body felt broken.

Rafe had a party to celebrate his official return to the island but, the latter was not alone.

Under his muscular arm is Sofia, a girl who worked at the Country Club that you and Rafe used to date.

She knows very well that Rafe belongs to you because, she had several times seen you slip away with him in the toilet.

That bitch knew full well she never should have done it, yet she did.

She’ll pay you, you swear.

When you got home that same night, you saw Rafe moan her name, touch her make her scream. Every second you spent watching that fucking screen disgust you.

You must have been the one he was exhausting, over-stimulating, so why were you there and she was being destroyed?

A wave of Jealousy and hatred overwhelmed you, You could not sleep. You got up, you started imagining what you would do to them and you liked the idea.

Your hand went to your panties, Rafe’s favorite. 

You touched yourself with two fingers, you’d force Sofia to look at how much Rafe would rather fuck you, kiss you and make you scream his name.

how obsessed Rafe was with you.

You started shaking feeling your orgasm coming, you felt like it was Rafe’s fingers, you closed your eyes two minutes and when you opened them, you fingers were soaking your sheets too

____________________________________________

The next day, you made sure of everything. The hammer was in your bag with the ropes and the sedative.

You waited to see Rafe’s bike go and entered Tannyhill. You made sure to be as quiet as possible and is checking the camera through your phone. Sofia go to the bathroom.

You walked into the room and heard ten minutes, until Sofia was too busy washing herself to hear anyone coming into the bathroom.

When she got out of the shower and unfortunately for her, she didn’t turn around, you strangled him with the rope.

She struggled for a while and you pressed your knee behind her back to further limit her oxygen. "You’re gonna die when Bitch!" You’re screaming.

Her suffocations were the only noises in the whole house. Suddenly she stopped moving her face was blue.

She was dead. You took her body and dragged her into the room, put her in a suitcase and went downstairs into the kitchen.

You pulled out the ingredients to prepare Rafe’s favorite dish is here.

Once finished, you put sedatives in it, then you imitated Sofia’s writing to perfection. You looked at the time and realized that Rafe was coming home soon. You went up to get Sofia’s body and took it with you from Tannyhill.

You fed it to the alligators, including in the swamp, and burned Rafe’s suitcase. You went home and prepared everything for tonight, you put on your best dress and you made the most beautiful possible, your reunion was going to be perfect.

______________________________________________

Your moans were the only thing audible in the room.

Rafe opened his eyes more and more slowly, he wanted to move his arm but he could not. The more he forced the more he felt his arm was being burned.

He also felt like a few things or rather someone was on him. He was inside a pussy?

This thought made him open his eyes, look at his beas and he was hung on either side of the bed. He looked ahead and froze on the spot.

You were on him, He was inside you and you were moving on him. You moaned his name you shoved your nails into his skin.

"Damn it, Y/N..." he moans trying to come to his senses. "Fuck Rafe!" You scream while accelerating your movements.

You moan louder and louder until you reach your peak.

You collapse on Rafe. "Fuck Y/N what are you doing here?" Rafe asks screaming.

You look Rafe in the eye. "You belong to me Rafe, I came to take back what belongs to me." You say while looking at him.

"You’re a fucking weirdo!" He starts trying to get the ropes off his wrists.

A clapping sound sounds in the room. Rafe slapped violently. You grab the back of his head violently forcing him to look at you.

"You know I’m crazy about you? You know that?" You ask Rafe about to explode. "YOU KNOW WHAT I’M CRAZY ABOUT YOU RAFE??!" You’re screaming. He’s not answering.

You close your eyes and calm down. "Everything I’ve done and what I’m going to do, I do for love you know that." You gently caress Rafe’s cheek. You stand up and get the hammer that was in your bag. You walk up to Rafe. "What are you going to do?" he asks you to panic. "Make you understand never to leave me or cheat on me again."

You hit his head violently, which just knock his out.

______________________________________________

You watch Rafe wake up, when he opens his eyes he’s panicked, he looks around him. "You’re finally awake Love?"

You lean to put your face closer to his, he instantly backs up in his chair to which he is tied. You still manage to put your lips on his.

"Let me go, I won’t tell anyone." he asks you with pity.

You put your arms and your head on his lap. "I can’t, honey." You say in a little voice. "Why?" he asks." Because you’re not in love with me, and until you feel what I feel for you, I won’t let you go. Even if it takes me twenty years or more."

______________________________________________

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.

.

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[lokisprettygirl]

Brokenhearted (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Modern AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 13 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 14

Summary: Samantha finally takes what she wanted but it might just be not enough for her.

Warning: 18+, Smut, Angst, violent thoughts, stalking, Discussion of mensuration and Pregnancy, bloodshed, Abusive relationship, mention of rape, toxic masculinity, gender norms, sexual abuse, Samantha, traumatic distressing content, Daemon is a big time smoker so if it’s something triggering don’t read it, alcohol drinking, mention of past trauma and therapy, cigarette smoking, possessive behaviour, violence, baby needs therapy, baby is trying

There was a palpable tension in the room between you, Daemon and Viserys, you knew you should have told him what Samantha wanted from him but you felt scared of losing him and your worst nightmare was about to come true. The only thing you could do was sit and watch as your world crashed and burned right in front of your eyes.

Samantha found him during his run that morning and had revealed to him what she had against him that could ruin his Life, his career and what she wanted from him in return.

Eight years ago during her last birthday party with Daemon, Samantha had laced his drink and under the influence he had not only indulged in several prohibited drugs under the federation but also participated in an orgy where he could barely keep his eyes open. She had planned all of that, once he was intoxicated she got his blood taken, and then she got his pictures and videos taken for further leverage, she wanted him to lose control so she'd have something against him whenever he'd plan to leave her but before she could use all that against him things ended rather drastically between them. You still had no idea what Viserys had told her that night in the hospital to make her leave him.

But she kept everything because she knew she'd never let him go completely.

Daemon remembered that birthday party really well, she was pregnant at the time so he wanted to be extra careful with her but he didn't remember everything from the night, he just remembered waking up the next morning with his cock in her mouth, he remembered feeling safe for once as she made love to him without wanting to hurt him, he really thought that the child would turn her, change the way she chose to love him.

He remembered it as one of the better days of their dysfunctional relationship not knowing what had happened the night before but now he did and he was ashamed of himself.

He was ashamed of how he'd be perceived if such things would make their way to the public.

"Daemon we can get the best of lawyers..we can-" Viserys spoke but he was interrupted immediately.

"Nooo" Daemon raised his voice at his brother and your eyes welled up. Why didn't he want justice? Why was he so adamant on not wanting to take any action against her? You didn't understand.

"Daemon –" you spoke but he cut you short as well.

"I'll come to you as well y/n" he said to you sternly. He never called you by your name so it was already an indication that this conversation won't end well, he seemed furious and you felt worried about what he was going to do. Your gut feeling told you that it was going to end terribly for you two.

"Go call her.. I'm sure your bitch of a wife stays in touch with her..tell her I want to meet her in the evening.. I need to talk to y/n now" Daemon told Viserys so the latter sighed and stepped out of the room to give you two privacy. This wasn't going to end well for you, he knew that and as much as he wanted to save your relationship with Daemon, he knew his brother far too well.

As soon as Viserys was gone Daemon looked at you, he was leaning against one of the bedposts just staring at you,

"Daemon –" you walked closer to him so he looked away. What he was going to do with you would make you hate him forever, and he would deserve that. He never deserved a woman like you in the first place, the selfless love you had for him, he was unworthy of it, he was too weak of a man to treat you better than this "I'm sorry I didn't tell you..I wanted to..I just"

"You have to go"

As you heard those words you could feel your heart stop for a moment . What did he even mean?

"Wha..tt?" Your voice cracked as you questioned him, you placed your hands on his forearms and stepped closer to him, he can't just ask you to leave this way, you were there for him.

"I'm going to give her what she wants, she wants me right? Then she can have me.. and for that to happen youuu need to leave y/n" he said nonchalantly, he pretended as if saying such cruel words to you wasn't affecting him at all but the reality was much different. He had never felt such intense debilitating pain as he did in that very second and he sure as hell knew a thing or two about pain.

"Don't say that, i know you're upset–" you tried to get through to him but he cut you off mid sentence. He can't have you arguing with him because he knew he'd get convinced easily.

"I'm not upset, not with you, I'm just done..I'm done trying to ignore the inevitable, she'd never let me go ..can't you see?" his eyes teared up, they seemed vacant and hopeless so you cupped his cheeks and kissed him softly, he didn't stop you either, he'd never get to hold you like this again or feel your tender kisses against his skin ever again so he wanted to relish your touch, live an eternity in those very few moments because a life of hurt and regret was waiting for him.

"There are other ways baby..don't do this please..i love you ..i love you so much..stay with me, let me be here for you please.. please" you cried as you clutched onto him, you can't lose him, especially not to her, you can't even imagine him getting hurt again.

"Please don't make this harder, darling" he said to you so let go of his shirt, he was just going to give up on this relationship and there was nothing you could have done to save it.

"So you just leave me to go back to her..that's your plan?" You looked him in the eye but he wasn't able to hold your gaze, he was truly ashamed of himself. "Why are you doing this dae?" You didn't understand his reasoning, why didn't he want to get rid of her? Have her punished for what she had done to him? What was compelling him to not drag her abusive ass to the court?

"Because I don't want the world to know me as the man who was too delicate to defend himself. That is not the legacy I want to leave behind"

You stepped away to look at him as he said that. He was worried about his past getting out because he was afraid of judgment from other people, he was afraid they would think of him as weak and unmanly, as someone who took it for years and said nothing.

"You can't think like that Daemon, nobody is going to judge you for being hurt by someone you loved so deeply" he snickered as you said that to him.

"Really? Look at me ..how does a man like me get abused by a woman? Tell me?" He gestured towards his physique and you opened your mouth to say something, to tell him that he was wrong about his own judgement but then did you know any better? You were in no position to judge him for his thoughts, he had suffered hell on earth and you weren't going to question the way he chose to cope with it.

You wished you had an answer for him but you didn't, you had a feeling nothing you could say would change his mind now.

"Daemon…don't leave me baby..i love you..i can't watch you go back to her and get hurt again" you whimpered and cried, the sight of you being so broken only fueled the hatred he felt for himself.

"I won't let her hurt me this time..I'll take care of myself" he said to you calmly and whatever hope you had dissipated along with his words. You stepped away further from him, shock was evident on your features that he was letting you go so easily.

"So that's it..you're going to let me go like i meant nothing to you?" He finally looked you in the eye as you said that.

"You mean everything to me ..you have no idea what I'm feeling at the moment ..you think this is easy for me?"

He asked you but you didn't have a response. It wasn't easy for him but it was definitely more difficult for you to be on the receiving end of this. Silence fell between you two after that, you asked to leave so he got your ticket booked immediately.

No questions asked, no resistance shown.

You couldn't even believe that this was happening, last night you slept in his arms, cuddling him like never before, he seemed so happy and so were you then why did your world turn upside down today. Why were you losing him now?

You were almost out of his hotel room when you turned around to look at him one more time, you couldn't help it, the thought of him returning to that monster only made you feel helpless but you couldn't help him if he wasn't willing to be helped.

He had his back against you, he couldn't even look into your eyes after this, he needed you right now more than ever but he had no right to ask you to stay. He had to let go of the safety of your arms and that was the hardest thing he'd ever have to do, he knew he had broken your heart and your trust and he also knew that you'd never forgive him for this but then he felt your arms around his waist as you sobbed against him and that's what made him give up the facade and have a breakdown.

You turned him around, cupped his cheeks and got on your tiptoes to place your forehead against his, one last moment of comfort, in that moment he knew you'd forever be his angel no matter what he does.

"Someday and I hope you'll see that day sooner than later Daemon.. someday you're going to realize that you're not a victim, that you're a survivor and the world will see you as such if you decide to tell them all about it.. whenever that day comes or whatever the reason will be for it.. I hope you'll build the courage to fight against her instead of allowing her to win again.. i love you..more than anything, i always will" you mumbled softly and kissed him one last time before you turned around to leave.

That would be the last Daemon would see you for a while. As soon as you had left his room he was reduced to his knees and in tears, he wanted to run back to you and tell you that he was ready to fight the world for you but he wasn't, he was too vulnerable.

He was a coward and he deserved a woman like Samantha, not you.

In the evening he met Samantha and she hugged him so tightly as she cried and then cried some more, there were tears in his own eyes but they weren't for her or because of her. Those tears only concerned you.

"I have changed Daemon i promise, I have grown in our time apart ..i only did all of this just to get you back, that's how much I love you my sweet boy"

She cooed in his ears as she clung to him. She got what she wanted and you lost everything you had when he was yours. He didn't say a word, he felt completely numb and he figured that's just how it will be for him moving forward.

Four days later, the day of the championship, Daemon stepped into the octagon with a defeated attitude. He didn't fight back, choosing instead to take the beating and stand there as his opponent pummeled him. He didn't deserve a win after what he had done to you, he wanted to feel the pain. He would have won the championship if he had you by his side, but now he no longer felt worthy. He felt weak and pathetic, just like how he had felt for the past seven years

Your eyes were glued to your tv screen, tears never stopped rolling as you watched the love of your life losing on purpose. Why would he do that? You didn't understand, did Samantha ask him to lose? Was he getting manipulated again? You hoped not.

Hours turned into days and days turned into months, he lived just a few steps away from the diner but you couldn't go see him. You couldn't go hug him or kiss him, he wasn't yours anymore to do so. A part of you wanted to hate him with passion for abandoning you like this but you couldn't hate him after everything he had been through, all he needed in his life was love that was safe and secured but he no longer had it. Samantha didn't love him, she just wanted to possess him like an object, a trophy to show off.

One evening, as Daemon returned to his condo after work, he was greeted by a box on his door. He opened it up and found all the gifts he had given you. All of the valuables, you didn't want to keep them anymore. He could feel the pain in his heart as he rummaged through the box. He always knew that his precious girl only loved him and didn't care about the materialistic values of the items but it still hurt that you didn't want to keep his gifts. When he didn't find the case of knives he had given you, he took a deep breath and let out a sigh. At least you kept what mattered to you.

As Daemon walked inside the apartment with that box, Samantha's eyes followed him. She didn't work, she spent her days just lounging on the couch all day long and spending his money like there was no tomorrow, that's all she did. It had been two months since they got together, but he wasn't ready for intimacy with her. He felt like he was cheating on you, like he was tainting the pure relationship he had with you.

A few weeks later as daemon got ready for bed Samantha turned up in the skimpiest nightie to turn him on but he only felt disgust and contempt for her.

"Come on love me tonight..i have had enough of your nonsense" she cupped his cheeks and kissed him against his will, the warm blooded man in him wanted to give in but he couldn't, there was no love in his heart for her, he hated her and he couldn't get himself to forget what she had done to him. After being doused in your love from head to toe he could clearly see that she had never loved him at all.

"I'm not in the mood" he grabbed her shoulders to pull her away but she wrapped her hands around his throat and began to choke him,

"Stop with your drama you idiot, you're mine now and you're going to be the man I want you to be. And as a man I want you to please me. What's wrong with you? Does your cock not work anymore?" She taunted him so he pushed her away with a force, sudden action made her lose her balance and she fell on the bed.

"Daemonnnn..come back'" she yelled his name but he grabbed his pillow and went to the other room to sleep.

As he laid down on the bed he heard the sounds of a vase crashing into the mirror in his room but he put his earbuds in and turned the music on to zone out.

Three months had passed since that god awful day and his fingers itched to touch you, to have you touch him in ways that brought him pleasure. His eyes longed for a gaze of yours, there was a ringing in his ears that only your voice could have shut down.

He opened his gallery and went through the pictures he had taken of you and with you on his phone, he had to save them all in a private folder so Samantha wouldn't see them, he wanted to keep you safe from her prying eyes.

A moan escaped his throat as he came across the pictures he had taken of you in his bedroom, with all the jewelries he has gifted you, you adorned nothing else but those jewelries and the sultry little smile on your face, your beautiful bare skin glowing in the dim yellow light of his bedroom was all he needed to get through this night.

He scrolled through the countless pictures in countless poses he had made you do, some lewd enough to work him up that his hand began to move of its own accord but some so innocent that it made him want to hold you right that moment. He worked furiously over his own length as he went through the pictures and then he stumbled upon the video he had taken of you some other night.

It wasn't just you though, it was you underneath, both of you were drunk and figured it would be scandalous to make a sex tape but the next morning neither of you could build the courage to watch it, the sight of your moans and groans and sweet whisper of his name as he fucked you senselessly was the push he needed to crumble into an orgasm.

He always thought he was being mechanical with you during sex, that he didn't give you enough tenderness but the evidence in front of him made him see otherwise, his eyes teared up as he looked at the way you held onto him and the way he'd pull you closer to him to latch his mouth with yours between thrusts, your eyes never leaving one another.

He was high on the much needed euphoria but as the feeling died down the guilt began to sink in, he had no right to keep these souvenirs, you were not his any longer but he couldn't bring himself to delete them either, your memories were all he had now.

Next morning on his way to the center he stopped right by your diner and looked in from the glass window, he had no intention of getting in but it felt comforting to just stand there knowing too well that he could just walk right in and see you. He was about to turn around and leave when the kitchen door opened and you stepped out, you were going into the employees room but you spotted him on the other side of the window, your heart skipped a beat as you noticed what he was wearing, a black hoodie with a black trouser, a sight too memorable.

His hair was braided from the sides, the rest of the mane was down below his shoulders, it had definitely grown longer. He looked as pretty as you had remembered, it's been just three months but it had felt like years to you.

You stepped out of the entrance, looking at him standing across the window. He gave you his typical look, narrowed eyes and non-existent brows scrunched all the way down. You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at the thought of him staring back at you so intensely as if you still belonged to him

"Were you planning to come in?" You broke the ice first so he took a few steps towards you,

"Not really..no" you nodded as he said that.

"Come on in..I'll fix you a sandwich" you went inside as you said that, squeezing your eyes at your own eagerness to invite him in. As the bells on the door rang you couldn't help but smile that he had taken you up on the offer.

He sat down on one of the booths wondering what the hell he was doing. He knew he was being selfish, you didn't deserve this, you didn't deserve him disturbing your peace this way.

A few minutes later you placed the plate down in front of him and sat down on the other side, your arms situated on the table itself as you tried to decipher the look on his face. His skin was free of bruises, which was a relief, but it still didn't erase the pain of not knowing what he may have endured in the past three months. You hoped she hadn't hurt him the way she used to.

"How are you?" He asked you so you smiled,

"Alright..you?"

"Kay..I guess ..work has been good?" He asked you so you nodded. Neither of you could deny that this was as awkward as it could get, none of you knew what to say to each other, the way your relationship ended wasn't exactly mutual, you didn't want this and you knew he loved you so it's not that he wanted it either but how the world perceived him was more important to him than you and you didn't blame him for that.

That is how he was conditioned to believe, the scars she had left behind were permanent, as a man he didn't want the world to think of him as someone so frail that he couldn't defend himself against a woman that was physically weaker than him, it wasn't true, of course not, but he had to realize that himself. You just wanted him to stop thinking of himself like that.

He was nibbling on his sandwich like a bird and it made you smile, gods you have missed him and all his quirks, he smelled good but you could also smell the cigarette on him so that worried you, why was he smoking first thing in the morning?

You had to go back to work so you got up and as you were about to walk past him he grabbed your arm so you turned around to look at him, his puppy eyes melted your resolve instantly, you knew you had to be the one to remember that he was the one to let you go but perhaps a momentary lapse in judgment won't kill you right? Or so you had thought.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his head down on your torso to hug you the way he used to whenever he seeked comfort from you, your fingers ran through his scalp and as soon as he felt your soothing touch his hold only got tighter around you.

After a while as he pulled away so you immediately turned around and left, you didn't want him to see you cry again. What was the point really? However that wasn't the last you had seen of him that day, he turned up at your door with the box of gifts that you had returned to him a few days ago.

"Why did you give this back to me?" He asked you as he entered your apartment and your eyes welled up.

"Why not? Last time i checked i wasn't' your girl anymore" his jaw clenched as you said that. Well atleast you were showing him the anger he deserved instead of being a fucking angel about it, he needed your anger, he needed you to tell him that he had ruined your life, he wanted you to hate him in the hope that it would lessen the guilt and regret he felt every waking second of his life..

"It was a gift, you shouldn't return the gifts like that..you silly stupid girl" you scoffed as he said that. Oh how you wanted to be his stupid silly girl at that moment.

"Get out .. okay? Don't do this to me now..I want to move on but I can't if I keep seeing you like this ..stop looking at me like that you hear me?" the pain in your voice was transparent, countless nights you had cried yourself to sleep just thinking about him and how different your life could have been with him.

"What if I don't want you to move on?" He questioned shamelessly, he couldn't bear the thought of another man being lucky enough to earn your love and then be blessed enough to keep it at the same time.

"You can't expect that from me, you made your choice, you chose her" you raised your voice and he snickered in response.

"No i didn't choose her, i chose hell.. that's what I did..I chose misery, I let go my darling angel and picked a witch that is going to torment me all my life, don't act as if you're the only one that has been hurt here"

Tears rolled down his cheeks, his voice broke with all the pent up emotions that he was hiding underneath that cold hard exterior.

"You have no right to be upset with me dae..you have no idea how hard it was for me to let you go that day, to watch you go back to that woman that had ruined you.. how would you have felt if the situation was reversed? Would you have sat idly and watched me go back to my abuser?" Your voice trembled as you spoke so he walked towards you and cupped your cheeks, placing his forehead down on yours he closed his eyes, just having you this close to him again felt surreal. If the situation was reversed he never would have allowed you to do this.

"Why did you ever love me so deeply you sweet sweet angel of mine..I don't deserve it"

You wanted to hold him and tell him why, you could have described a million reasons why you loved him but then you knew at the end he'd hurt you again.

"I told you I was afraid of losing you and then you abandoned me the next day. You can't be here Daemon you have to go..you need to leave.. please just go"

He let go of you as you said that and turned around to leave. He knew neither of you would be able to control yourselves if he had stayed any longer and he didn't want to use you like that, he had caused you enough pain already.

When he came back to his condo that night Samantha was just glaring at him with a look of suspicion on her face.

"Where were you?" She asked him as she walked towards him,

"Work stuff" he walked past her to go to his room. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her today.

What he didn't know was that Samantha had followed him that morning and she had watched him meet you in the diner and then the apartment, she couldn't have that now could she? She had to make sure he was all hers now but she also knew that it won't happen as long as you were still here in this world. He'd always run to you as long as you were in his reach.

A few days later after work you were crossing the street when a car came speeding towards you with no time for you to react. The impact caused you to fly through the air before crashing onto the pavement.

As you laid there, stunned and disoriented, the last thing you remembered was the feeling of being pulled onto a stretcher before the darkness consumed you

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Taglist (please check your setting if I’m not able to tag you)

@simbaaas-stuff @ajthefujoshi @witchybitch2 @hypocritic-trash-baby @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @thefallenangel21n @kmc1989

@stupidthoughtsinwriting

[demonslayedher]

A messy ramble about sword decor

Kimetsu no Yaiba was sleeping on menuki, man.

That came back to mind today while visiting a museum exhibit of very fancy sword mountings (like so), because I am me and admiring very realistic metal insects and tiny metal carvings of Tale of Heike battle scenes will always come back to my fandom brain rot. The menuki specifically were on my mind because they are decorative pieces on the handles that hide the mekugi, which are key structural elements--pegs where the handle is attached to the blade, and where some might say a soul is put into a sword.

And, a few years ago while KnY hype was at its height, I heard some people who seemed to try to talk down the hype, saying, "the swords don't even have mekugi! Those aren't real Japanese swords!" Which means a lot to most non-nerds, I'm sure.

True, a lot of the Nichirin-to don't include visible pegs in their design, which you could argue is just because they are covered up with other wrappings on the handles. But realism really isn't a concern since Sanemi and Shinobu would probably constantly stabbing themselves with those tsuba.

So anyway!! The tsuba! The handguards and what they say about the characters is a very, very nice touch, and I love wondering if the swordsmiths designed those fully based on their own imaginations and perhaps what crows told them about the kids (like "he was a charcoal farmer" or "he's a Rengoku") or if the swordsmen got any chance to put in their own requests on the regular ("I was a charcoal farmer, I don't know what to ask for" or "Sabito had one like this"). It's also fun to see the creativity involved in creating the scabbards for unique swords like Shinobu's and Iguro's.

But we can do so much mooooore!

I love the simplicity of the Nichirin-to. They are elegant and purposeful, with engravings being earned and standardized. But they are also beautiful, and the general idea must be "if those swordsmen are putting their lives on the line, we will give them powerful tools, but they might as well get to enjoy something decorative for the rest of their likely short life." The menuki would have been such an opportunity for this, though the details would be hard to spot in both anime and manga format. So instead I just want to ponder the possibilities.

Shinobu:

I was very inspired by all the metal inlay bugs and the butterfly motifs I saw today. I love the elegant engraving on the scabbard, and that her tsuba takes part of the traditional Shippou (Seven Treasures) pattern to make a vague butterfly shape. But I also saw one today that have a wisteria shaped menuki (and other bug motifs!!). But also, knowing her, she might be pleased to have a decorative little fish tucked behind the cords.

Sanemi:

I LOVE THE VIOLENT PINWHEEL. What a whimsical way to express wind! Speaking of bugs, why not give him a rhinoceros beetle, symbolic of fighting spirit? After all, I even saw realistic little snail ones today, anything goes. And while we're thinking wind--

Rengoku:

Wind chime??? Even the balloon flower pattern like was on the wind chime in that scene makes a lovely metal engraving pattern on other mountings on the scabbard. Totally unrelated, but today I say a brand of tangerines called "Shiranui" (the same name as the First Form of Flame Breath) for sale at the store, so heck, why not an apricot theme somewhere too? Orrrrrr you can also work with a "heart" theme to compliment all the flames. Oh, speaking of hearts--

Mitsuri:

Mitsuri's tsuba might look like four hearts, but this is actually an uncommon but traditional spin on a cherry blossom motif. Aside from all the possible ways you play with a cherry blossom motif, the traditional "inome" protective pattern is nowadays considered romantic because it looks like an upside-down heart. There's a lot of nice ways of using that shape, like a window in the a tsuba, or in her case, maybe to frame some other pattern used as part of an engraved piece. Speaking of "inome" though--

Inosuke:

"Inome" means "boar's eye," though it looks more like a boar snout. Kanamori could have done all kinds of things with this motif, or even used little boar-shaped menuki! Not that any of those efforts would have mattered.

Iguro:

Clearly the snake theme could be used a lot, but why not be more creative? He's actually a pretty sensitive dude, and my read on him is that he seems to like scenes that imply "purity," partly because he ses himself as so tainted and doesn't dare taint anything pure. Nature motifs like snow, or the elegant snow-moon-flowers triple motif suit his poetic soul nicely, and snakes are considered a water element (makes sense that his Breath stems from Water Breathing), so some water related theme could work too. In this same vein, snakes are generally considered as much as water element as dragons, so giving him a dragon item would also fit just fine with a snake theme.

Himejima:

Hard to think of this one in the same way as the others, but I'm sure there are methods for decorating it. Like, what does he even use as a scabbard? Maybe he has a nice strong brocade or woven cord for wrapping up the chains? There are so many ways you could work in Buddhist themes for him, especially the six characters used to write "Namu Amida Butsu" (but that's already all over his haori). There's gotta be good themes out there (both of Buddhist origin or general Japanese folk and/or poetic culture) to play on the idea of "strength." Oh heck, just give him a little Benkei-related motif, or a motif related to a famous demon slayer of the past.

--ON THAT NOTE--

Wouldn't it be cool if, like there are "Tale of Heike" themed menuki, there were menuki celebrating famous moments in Corp history? Maybe it was suddenly very popular to make menuki of Uzui vs Gyutaro once that momentous battle occurred? Uzui would love that. You could also have more subtle history, like motifs shaped like The Marks, which the swordsmiths have maintained in their traditions without knowing why certain symbols became associated with certain Breaths. If Yoriichi hadn't been disgraced, he probably would have been a common theme too.

Uzui:

ALL THE DECOR, but what about fireworks all over the shiny lacquer? Or the scene in Tale of Genji in which Genji stands in a storm at the beach (a hidden reference to the names of each of Uzui's wives)?

Muichiro:

GINKGO LEAVES, MAN. And the moon because it would be ironic.

Tanjiro:

What if he had a little SUNSHINE on a simple menuki?? Something nice and understated! Or even his fox mask!!! Or--oh, oh, oh---

Giyuu:

WHAT IF THEY HAD MATCHING FOXES

Also, it would be very nice if there was some useful of the waves and clouds pattern on the metal pieces of his scabbard.

Zenitsu:

There's already a lot of lightning and triangle on this sword, and I like how his matches Kaigaku's. I could see this being a situation of Zenitsu getting his sword polished and using the opportunity to ask for any number of cute and auspicious decorations and being flat out told, "no, this is what Thunder Breath swords look like."

Kanao:

Freaking flowers everywhere, but I also saw a crest today that had three butterflies in a circle around a flower, and it was repeated all over the sword, especially the lacquer of the scabbard. Wouldn't that be a cute reference to the sorts of people who inspired her to learn Breath technique and then sneak off to the Final Selection?

Genya:

He has such a very typical straightforward tsuba you'd actually see in real life. You one of the menuki themes I saw today? One one side, it is a "speedy demon" running off with a stolen stupa (which has the relics of Buddha inside), and on the other side, a Buddhist protective deity running after the demon with a sword. WHAT A FUN PAIR. Something like this would be such a cool way to reference his reliance on the Nenbutsu for Repetitive Action, too. But give that deity a glock.

I realize that a lot of this is very casually referencing motifs and hidden cultural details I've referenced elsewhere in various posts throughout this blog. I am far, far too lazy to go link those. Hopefully they're all properly tagged as "KnY Nerdery." Anyway, since you've come this far, here is an obligatory "SWORD BABY" photo because I always like photos when I get to hold tamahagane.

LOOK, A BABY SWORD, ISN'T IT BEAUTIFUL???

[indelicateink]

the Interview with the Vampire kink meme continues to be everything

there's been a scorching HOT loustat fill today: The Interview

a bouquet of thanks to @vampire-dove for maintaining this anon kink meme for us.

i'm going to share some of the prompts going on over there. please go add more. please fill prompts. these vampires cry out to be put in Situations.

Prompts [5/?]:

Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac Seduction, Vampire Turning, Drunk Sex, Marriage Proposal

"Parallel universe.

"In 1905, Parisian brothel owner Lestat de Lioncourt keeps his ungrateful brothers and father, and his frail mother, in comfort despite hating his life. When his new acquaintance, wealthy American Louis de Pointe du Lac, comes on so strong, he starts to think life could be different. There is an air of the preternatural about him, but Americans are probably just like that?

"Vampire Louis de Pointe du Lac searches for a new life in the old world and finds a handsome man with a most agreeable disposition who he wants to convince to become his companion. Life certainly wouldn't be boring."

--

Armand/Daniel Molloy

"Minimal or no Devil’s Minion before 2022. Armand turns Daniel out of spite, but Daniel takes to vampirism immediately and revels in his newfound strength and immense power. And Daniel is so psyched about this new un-life that he kisses Armand, who kisses him back passionately. He then fucks Armand all around the penthouse and gives him the best dick he’s had in centuries. Armand is terribly confused by this intense, feverish passion between them, over thinks it, and flees out of self-preservation. and naturally Daniel gives chase!"

--

Claudia/Madeleine, Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac Alternate Universe - Royalty, Weddings, Competition

"Royal wedding au. Now that she's in her thirties, Claudia's parents are putting their foot down: as their only child, she will be inheriting the throne, and she's going to need a partner as strong as she is. They've lined up candidates. It's tradition.

"Claudia has never forgiven Lestat for not using his magic to bring back her first love, Charlie, years ago, but he hopes he can make amends by introducing her to a beloved fellow countrywoman from his homeland who was…exiled…for being…a traitor?? Louis wants to know what the fuck is wrong with Lestat's head."

--

Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac Extremely Dubious Consent, Hallucinations, Episode: s02e01 What Can The Damned Really Say To The Damned? (Interview with the Vampire TV 2022)

"While traveling Europe with Claudia, Louis hallucinates(/fantasizes about?) Lestat forcing himself on him.

"Can be violent or just disturbing, can be physical assault (I know the hallucinations don't work like that but we can suspend our disbelief) or not include touching at all. Up to you how aware Louis is that the hallucination is his own mind torturing him. The important part is that Louis is really messed up and can only get off while also punishing himself. Bonus points for Lestat being in his bloody post-Mardi Gras outfit, throat slit and bleeding and all."

--

Armand/Lestat de Lioncourt Accidental Marriage, Accidental Bonding, Dubious Consent

"1795 AU. The Great Laws this, The Great Laws that. Magnus never told Lestat that when another vampire overpowers you with a bite soon after your turning, your body imprints on them and you become vampire-married.

"After Armand attacks Lestat at the party, Lestat finds himself craving sex with Armand against his will. He is determined to be strong! Gabrielle rolls her eyes a lot."

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Louis de Pointe du Lac/ Oiginal Male Characters, Armand/Original Male Characters Serial Killers, Recreational Drug Use, Creampie, Felching, Rape/Non-con Elements, Service Submission, Under-negotiated Kink, Humiliation, Drugged Sex

"Louis gets lost in the high and never cleans up/finishes draining his hookups to kill them. Louis isn’t going to fuck him when he’s like this, but Armand dutifully cleans up Louis’s sloppy seconds to feel closer to his maitre.

"additional tags: unnegotiated bdsm, nonconsensual drugged sex (armand/louis’s half-dead hookups), nonconsensual blood drinking (armand/louis’s half-dead hookups)"

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Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac Pregnancy Kink, Crack Treated Seriously

"fantasy m/m non-omegaverse vampire au in which ppl of any sex can get pregnant if they're fertile and are someone who has a uterus because reasons!

"lestat can bear children. louis desperately wants kids. lestat and louis knew when they got married they were not on the same page: children were a hard no for lestat. not having them was a dealbreaker for louis. they really should've sorted that out before they eloped.

"years later louis has one foot out the door when lestat bitterly caves, to louis's single-minded delight. gabrielle and armand are quietly appalled.

"five times louis got his husband pregnant and one time lestat volunteered the idea.

"(i am begging you on my knees for this fic please and thank you)"

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Hello! Me again, back to pester you about lore.

So what's going on with The Drifter? For once I know a little about the character, I read 'A Man With No Name', but I still have questions. From how the book read, Drifter convinced Felwinter to get revenge for the destruction of the village. Did that go anywhere? And what did Drifter get up to for the (unspecified very long) timeskip between the book and the game?

And with the modern day, does the Vanguard know he's running a fighting ring out of the basement? Or does every single guardian look away when Zavala tries figuring out where people keep getting these weapons? I guess first rule of fight club and all that. What's he even trying to do? He seems to be pretty against most of the Vanguard's leadership.

Anyway, another invitation to infodump about your other blorbo. I hope you don't mind XD

If you thought I was long-winded about Eris... She's maybe 400 years old whereas the Drifter may be 900... get comfy... this will not be quick.

"Dark Age was wild times."

I adore the Drifter and a good chunk of how and why I adore him is his voice - both the voice acting and the syntax/diction/phrasing used in the writing, but voice alone does not cover why I find his character so utterly enthralling and fantastic.

I wrote a short piece consisting of Eris telling Ikora what she sees in him in my story Finders Keepers. It's basically a personality analysis and some people have (I think probably accurately) accused it of being a love letter to that character. (Reminder: that link is fanfiction - I wrote it - it is not lore, but it is based on lore. However, everything else I list after this is actual lore.)

But, personality aside, ultimately the Drifter's story is what I find most compelling about him and makes him so empathetic. You mentioned you've read A Man with No Name, but there's more. A lot more.

To start, the Drifter is D2's most violent pacifist.

He doesn't want to fight and when he does, it's vicious. The Emissary of the Nine, formerly Orin (his ex-best friend and/or ex-lover, depending upon how you read it) aptly says "He hates violence. He hates it so much he'll murder anyone who tries to inflict it on him."

In A Man with No Name, we see him go from hiding in a town and having it obliterated by warlords, to running a bar at the bottom of Felwinter peak, to getting Lord Felwinter himself to avenge the town. Drifter doesn't fight anywhere in there and gets other people to do his fighting for him, which is a pretty standard tactic for him. And yes, it is strongly implied that Felwinter does indeed murder the fuck out of Lord Dryden when he says "Call Lord Dryden. Prepare my Iron Banner arsenal."

But then we get Dark Age Drifter entries where he's gunning down Fallen attackers with quotes like "He had never brought himself to shoot a human. Or anything even resembling a human. Risen included." (Bonus mention: notice "Alright" repeated here and compare to his standard Gambit opening of Alright, alright, alright...") Where he's slipping away from non-violence, specifying, in particular, that he won't shoot a human but will defend himself from aliens.

And then he becomes something else entirely in these amazing entries with what I've been calling his Breakneck crew:

Now Otto's a Sword man. He's all about "craft." Technique. Precision. It's disgusting, but I don't care how he does it, as long as it gets done, so I just let him do it. And Otto does it so beautifully that, when he's done, you're standing there holding your guts in your hands and thanking him for the show.

Never touches a gun, that girl. She likes to get close. Likes to look right in their eyes and be the last thing they see.

The chumps that run out to stop us are babies. That's the kicker with Warlords—other than ours, there's not a Ghost in sight here. Just civilians who can barely hold their guns without wetting their pants, who can't aim worth a damn, who stick their necks out for the bad guys with eternal life. Real geniuses.

Cenric stood up. That vein of his looked about ready to pop. Drifter let his feet down as he reached for his rifle, asp-quick. "And you know what we do with rats, don't you, brother."

And the thing I love about this is the character development this speaks to where he goes from pacifist who won't fight at all... to someone who will use a machine gun competently, repeating "Alright" and getting himself used to killing, but not humans, never humans... to stone cold vicious murder-Drifter talking about the lightless who die to his crew in ways that make them (and himself) seem no longer human, to gunning down his own crew, people he felt were a perfect team, when they make deals with warlords behind his back and lie to him about it.

The Drifter started out adhering to an ideal of nonviolence and it destroyed him and everyone he cared for. His sense of self, his principles, everything he believed in is eroded until he completely loses all hope and in order to survive the cruelty of the world he lives in he becomes a ruthless monster.

Either before or after his Breakneck-era crew (it's not clear), the Drifter (under the name Eli) joins the Pilgrim Guard, a group of Titans protecting lightless people as they travel to the Last City. He does this out of a desire/need to be near Orin, a Titan with a complicated past and strong ties to both Queen Mara and the Nine. But then after spending time with Eli/Drifter and the Pilgrim Guard, Orin, the one person Drifter's ever had a deep human connection with, the person he considers his best friend, leaves without a word.

It's very telling that the green snakes, the jade coin, and the red string on those same coins that form such profound parts of the Drifter's symbolism and identity all come from Orin. When the Drifter truly cares for someone, he incorporates part of them into himself, into his identity, making them part of who he becomes, so they live on inside of him.

After his time with Orin, we get into the extremely confusing, contradictory mess that is the Drifter's intersection with Shin Malfur-related Rose/Thorn/Lumina lore. And by this I mean that the Drifter, after fighting alongside people doing genuinely noble good work, in the wake of losing Orin, leaves the Pilgrim Guard and eventually ends up joining the evil cult of evil: following in the footsteps of one of the most reviled risen to ever exist - the guardian-killer: Dredgen Yor.

If you're gonna hang with me, you need to know about the Shadows of Yor. They follow the edicts of a very bad man named Dredgen Yor. And what're his Shadows after? Everything the Light can't provide. I thought they could help me find an answer to the battles of Light versus Light that raged during the Dark Age. But the longer I flew with them, the more I saw they're blind as all those who follow the Traveler. One albatross for another. I was done with 'em.

And while in the cult, in some sort of ritual, he communes with the Darkness directly and gets some sort of Darkness powers (possibly Stasis, possibly something else - it's super unclear) and the Darkness whispers to him his Dredgen name: Dredgen Hope, which is particularly brutal in context with this quote from Dredgen Yor himself:

I care only to give hope to the frightened, huddled masses so that when I come upon them they will have more to lose. Their pain will be greater. Their screams more pure… Nothing dies like hope. I cherish it.

But it is also particularly pointed because hope is the thing the Drifter doesn't have. Trust is the thing he doesn't have the ability to do any more because of his experiences (and is also the name of the hand cannon he wears shoved into his pants). He is the most jaded (literally - constantly fidgeting with a jade coin) character in the D2 universe. He loses everything and leans in on it and follows that path to full evil.

And then he walks away. Because evil doesn't work for him either.

But also (either before or after he's completely left the cult - it's ambiguous, but possibly when he's still entangled but it's already fracturing and falling apart) he finds Orin again (he's using the name Wu Ming at this point - either having returned to it, or because he hasn't changed it yet from Felwinter Peak, or perhaps this happens before Felwinter Peak - the order and timeline is somewhat fuzzy).

Orin does not remember who he is when he finds her the second time (she's pretty nuts at this point - her story is filled with madness and tragedy), and is going insane with grief over losing Namqi (the person she left with when she disappeared the first time) as well as her obsession with the Nine. And the Drifter is once more drawn to her and once more connects deeply with her:

Wu Ming leaves his questions by the wayside as he is drawn inexorably into the gravity well of her desperate honesty. Her confessions lower his defenses. He talks of himself. Of his fear. Of his loneliness. How he feels he is one fingernail away from plummeting into an abyss. How he feels vicious resentment every time he is brought back from the dead: He never asked for the gift of the Light... They make excuse after excuse to meet again. Every conversation is colored by excavated truths; every day they feel they will reach some bedrock that will break them to pieces. It is as frightening as it is intoxicating.

But then Orin finds out about him being a Dredgen, terminates their relationship, goes off to become the Emissary of the Nine and, as someone I was talking with once referred to it: 'it was a breakup so bad he had to leave the solar system.'

Things go very poorly the first time the Drifter loses Orin but the second time is far worse. He has a full-on Lovecraftian 'At the Mountains of Madness' style horror-movie-plot experience with a crew he calls his 'best friends' (which may or may not be all ex-Dredgens but there's at least evidence they might be) out on a frozen planet being stalked and driven to insane levels of paranoia by Darkness creatures able to snuff out their light:

I think I mentioned we're all raving psychos at this point. Well, we did what all measured raving psychos would do. We thought we each had been betrayed by the others. We drew on each other.

The Drifter kills them all to keep them from killing him (at least, that's what he says - no one else is alive to argue). Then his ghost, who up until now has been kind of a moralistic asshole, suggests he hunt down the ghosts of his former crew and Frankenstein them together in order to survive:

And the craziest thing happened. My Ghost snapped... But we would need parts. Ghost parts. And we knew where we could get some... The Ghosts of my former crew all fled as soon as their charges hit the dirt. So me'n mine, we hunted them... "Hey. There's always hope. For what it's worth, I'm proud of you." It was the last thing my Ghost ever said, and the last lie it ever told.

The Drifter's ghost is rendered mute from the experience (either mechanically or due to the trauma of hunting down and murdering other ghosts - it's not clear) but the plan works, they survive, and the Drifter builds the Derelict out of scrap, returning to the Tower where he sets up Gambit.

It's super unclear (again, the Shin-related lore is just a mess and deliberately confusing) but it turns out that Drifter going on about how the Man with the Golden Gun is out to get him is actually a deal he made with Shin to set up Gambit (because, spoiler: the leader of the entire Dredgen cult, Dredgen Vale, turns out to be none other than Shin Malphur, the Man with the Golden Gun, who hunts Dredgens and who the Drifter has been saying is out to get him this entire time) to draw out the truly Darkness-corrupted guardians so Shin can kill them. (And this is ultimately why the Vanguard lets him run a fighting ring in the basement - because Shin convinces them it will help find the truly bad guardians so they can be eliminated).

If you find that confusing, that's because it is. Anything to do with Shin Malphur/Dredgen Yor/Rose/Thorn/Lumnia is pretty much an acid-trip, continuity-wise. It hurts my brain.

As for where the Drifter gets the weapons he gives us for Gambit? To the surprise of no one, he's stealing them. Because of course he is. It's him.

While running Gambit, he ends up visited by the Emissary of the Nine (formerly Orin - same body, different person) and has the Haul attached to the Derelict as a 'gift' in this amazing cutscene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFtmr___dSw

And he pretty much stays in "shifty morally ambiguous guy in the basement" mode until Arrivals when the pyramids show up on Io and we get one of my favourite lore tabs in all of D2: Whispering slab.

The two sit. They speak. They listen. Linkages forged in Light and Dark of traded secrets as the Derelict hangs in orbit around the Earth. Pacts are made. Soon, there is only the silence of knowing left between them.

"Next time you fly over the Moon, dust your boots. Tracking that crap all over my floors."

Both of the Drifter's deep emotional entanglements with Orin happen when he really genuinely talks to her, and now in Whispering Slab, he's genuinely talking to someone else, plus we get the origin of why he calls that someone else Moondust.

Then, during Arrivals, we get the amazing banter between him and Eris, and in Beyond Light they learn to control Stasis together with the result being (in my highly subjective opinion) the best cutscene in all of D2 : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQAB-sSi6P0

At the end of Haunted we get Eris' message to him about healing and finding joy , he has this line in Plunder "What we do now matters more than who we were", we end up with the Kept Confidence lore tab during Season of the Witch where the person who previously insisted he trusted no one now is saying: "He didn't trust them. He trusted her" and then in the Gloaming Journeyer tab, he pulls her into a hug and reminds her of what she told him once (in the Prophesy dungeon dialogue): "That we'll live in the night if we have to. We do it for what comes after." (What comes after is dawn, hope, the continuance of existence after the darkest point.)

Someone in a chat I was in once summed up the core dynamic of the Drifter and Eris' relationship perfectly as "He gives her trust. She gives him hope."

There are people online who are very frustrated with the Drifter's character development, feeling that the Drifter has 'had his teeth filed off' and that he 'got his depression cured by getting a goth girlfriend' but I feel that's just people who don't like change. The Drifter has, throughout his entire storyline been constantly changing who he is. Change is part of his many self-constructed identities which he re-creates over and over as his old sense of self is destroyed and remade. Gritty vicious Drifter is still in there and he will be just as brutal as ever if he needs to be.

He doesn't want to be, though. He never has. And as someone who deals with medical-grade depression and who found themselves in a situation where they needed to reconstruct a sense of self to replace the one that was lost, the Drifter finding a way to hope and trust again after all he's been through is an extremely powerful and poignant narrative which speaks to me on many levels.

It's not trite, thoughtless happy fluffy rainbows, friendship-fixes-everything-whee! It's painful and slow and beautiful as the Drifter learns to have healthy relationships with other people. We need stories like this to speak to us at an unconscious level and tell us that even if you're not Eris Morn and you failed, and you gave up, and you didn't make it out of the Hellmouth, and you in fact gave in to despair and completely lost all hope, your experience erasing who it was you were and having that old you replaced with someone else, you can still find hope again. Even if you've been burned so severely by so many, many, negative human interactions that you cannot trust anyone, if you find the right people, you can slowly learn how to trust again.

The Drifter's story has been called a redemption arc, and I guess in a way it is that too but, for me, the essential quality of the Drifter's narrative isn't redemption: it's healing.

Stories have power. We incorporate them into who we are. Dredgen Hope ultimately does live up to his name. Within D2 he is finally starting to heal. I find that idea, of healing in spite of being so altered by one's experiences as to have had to become an entirely different person in order to survive, of being unable to trust and still finding a way to learn how to trust again, to be important and beautiful to have in my subconscious as something to draw from. It is a story that is very much needed by a lot of people. We need to be reminded that we can be irrevocably changed and have everything taken from us and still find a way to trust and hope and love again. That might seem a bit much for a shooty game, but I maintain this is why D2 has some of the best storytelling of any game I've ever played and that the character of the Drifter is a huge part of what makes that storytelling so compelling.

Sorry this took so long to answer. This seriously was as short as I could make it and still say everything that I felt needed to be said. There's more, and more detail, of course, but this is my treatise on why the Drifter is as awesome as I think he is.

That is all.

[bluenpjm]

CLOUD9 AGENCY ☁ JJK X OC

Ⓒ bluenpjm — all rights reserved. do not repost, translate or claim as your own.

synopsis.  faced with decisions that can change the course of her career, the art director of the cloud9 agency decides it is time to act and reignite the flame she had once lost. and all because of an intern… genre.  non-idol au ; slice of life au ; intern!jungkook ◦ fluff ◦ angst ◦ smut  pairing.  JJK x OC rating.  M wordcount. 4.8K warnings.  foul words, violent thoughts, sad vibes and life not making sense, drinking, arguing, just a lot of different feelings!  a/n.  a really really late birthday gift to my #1 supporter of this story. happy late birthday lulu, you're the best! 🥺💛🌻 chapters. 3 — 4 — 5

It hadn’t been the first time someone had disappointed Carolina. It had been, however, the first time she had allowed someone to get too close too quickly. And that was a mistake she wouldn’t be committing again anytime soon. After all, you learn from your mistakes. At least you should.

She storms towards the elevator, her anger seething within her. 

Carolina doesn’t care to collect any of her belongings that stay laid in her office—and for the sake of everyone in that entire building, it would be best that her little purple troll with neon green hair would be in the box with her stuff the next day. Horace—the troll—had been her companion throughout the most challenging moments of trite; that, and her camera. Cassandra never bothered to replace the agency’s old one that, for the entire time Carolina had been with Cloud9, had been broken and merely acting as yet another item in her glass office to be left to collect dust. 

Already inside the elevator, she faces the crowd for the seconds it takes the doors to close—some people had already started whispering, others dispersed once faced with Cassandra, while the one intern that she cared about didn’t move; her eyes are on him and she doesn’t look away until the doors close. As she begins its descent, she’s met with her reflection in the steel doors. She wants to scream and punch someone. Wholeheartedly, she wouldn’t mind punching both Jungkook and Cassandra straight in the face. “Stupid Jungkook,” she mutters under her breath, hands falling to her hips. “Fuck you and your meaningless empty words.”

Her chest keeps rising and falling as she crouches on the floor, practicing her breathing exercises to calm her racing nerves, as the box keeps on dinging, signaling that she is closer and closer to the ground level. 

Stepping out of the tall building that had been her workplace for the last couple of years, Carolina stood on the bustling sidewalk, the busy street teeming with people despite the hour. She hated early meetings. In fact, she hated all sorts of meetings. There was no need to have an entire team stop their days so that they could waste 45 minutes of their busy schedules to speak about something that could easily be an email. 

Her work day was managed according to her own will. The team that worked closely with the creative director was used to her being offline in the morning and extremely active during night hours. Her brain became electric after midnight and they had all been able to coordinate a pretty balanced work schedule so they could communicate effectively. 

With its modern design, the towering building loomed above her. Car horns, the hurried footsteps, and the chatter of pedestrians created a symphony of urban chaos that served as background noise for the audio message she was recording for her best friends, trying her best to veil her frustration and disappointment as she recounted the situation. She knew she didn’t have to lie; in fact, it only worried her that her friends would jump Cassandra in the street or key her car. It wasn’t like her to openly discuss her feelings. Instead, she made some jokes.

“But yeah—” She pauses briefly, phone momentarily touching her lips. “I’ll be seeing you guys at 8 pm. As usual. Peace out!” 

She hits the green button, sending her audio through, before immediately typing a quick message so they don’t rush to listen to her recording. 15 entire minutes of her ranting about her day so early in the morning would definitely alarm them. 

Her ride finally arrives and she lets out a sigh of relief as she climbs into the backseat. The added feature of no conversation was a blessing as her mind throbbed with frustration. Leaning back against the comfortable leather seats, Carolina closes her eyes and lets the soothing melodies of the music playing on the radio wash over her. As the car began its journey, the towering buildings of the city gradually faded into the background, replaced by the familiar sights of her own neighborhood. The streets became lined with quaint houses and small local businesses. 

From time to time, she would open her eyes, checking that the normal-looking guy who was driving her home didn’t have a little bit of Joe Goldberg in him and took a detour to his secret layer where he would try to murder her. She had been devouring true crime podcasts and it had quickly taken over her mind—whichever situation she found herself in could be the perfect crime scene. Sometimes she even found herself looking for ways to leave clues behind so that the investigative team could find her body. 

But as her paranoid mind came to ease, she couldn’t help but appreciate the contrast between the hectic city and the peacefulness of her neighborhood. The cool breeze gently brushed against her face as she peered out of the window, and her home was just around the corner. She longed for a cold shower, a chance to wash away the stress and frustrations that had been weighing on her shoulders. 

Successfully arriving home without being kidnapped, Carolina takes the stairs up to the third floor. The elevator in her building had been making weird noises and after getting stuck there twice, she decided not to put her luck to the test any longer. The angels were probably worrying about someone else because she was having one hell of a day.

She feels exhausted and defeated. As she closes the door behind her, one of her shoes is already flying as she swiftly takes it off. The other follows suit. Tossing her keys on top of her bag that had also been thrown to the floor, she moved with automatic precision toward the bathroom. 

The soothing sound of running water fills the room as Carolina turns the faucet, letting it pour into the bathtub. The cold shower is replaced by a warm bath that would hopefully serve as a place to unwind and let go of the stress that had accumulated throughout her morning. The day had barely started and she was feeling drained. 

Stepping into the warm water, she lets out a sigh of relief as it caresses her skin, the tension in her muscles slowly melting away. But the feeling of betrayal kept lingering in her mind, as she could still vividly picture Jungkook’s doe eyes stuck to the floor, the question of why he hadn’t backed her up as he promised haunting her. Closing her eyes, Carolina submerges herself in the water, wanting nothing more than the world surrounding her to fade away. 

By the time Carolina left her bathroom, she was surprised to find her living room dimly lit, washed in tones of orange as the sun had already begun to set. She fetched her phone and wasn't surprised by the thousands of messages her friends had sent her, both on their group but also in the private chat. She was expecting them to explode by the news—that, and that they were going to kill her because of the lack of communication. 

Her wrinkly fingers wouldn't allow her to leave a fingerprint behind, making it impossible to unlock her phone. Her attention fell on the time displayed on the screen instead and she knew she had to hurry if she didn't want to be yet again late to their dinner date. 

Carolina’s encounter with her friends that evening was based on venting frustrations and only after she had some drinks and shared some laughs, they discussed her situation with Cassandra and Jungkook. As she had expected, the two girls immediately began a plan to make the lives of the two people who were tormenting her friend’s mind a living hell. 

As the evening drew to a close, Carolina managed to put her friends in their respective cars, calling one for herself while feeling grateful for them. She knew that with the two she would never be alone in her struggles and that they would always be there for her. But as she arrived home, she couldn’t help but check her phone for any missed messages. Despite still being upset with Jungkook, deep down she craved to have something from him—some sort of explanation for his reaction earlier. Scrolling through her social media, the feelings only grew inside her and she decided it was time to call it a day. Setting her phone down, the silence in her room is deafening and it feels like it’s spinning. She just wanted to close her eyes and forget this day ever happened. 

As days turned into weeks, Carolina’s rage faded down. 

After quitting her job, her days settled into a monotonous rhythm. Her once bustling schedule was now a simple sequence of actions that played out in the confined space of her house. The path she treaded between her bed, the fridge, and the bathroom would soon start to feel worn, like a well-trodden trail that could be found in the woods. 

During the initial days of her newfound routine, Carolina found a peculiar comfort in the limited space, as if the world beyond was too vast and too overwhelming to face. Deep down, she had been craving this alone time; this silence—a relief. The constant ringing of her phone, which had once been a constant reminder of work-related stress, was now replaced by a soothing quietness. For the first time in a while, she was able to breathe in the stillness of her surroundings. 

However, a sense of emptiness began to creep into her life. Despite the wanted freedom, an undeniable void had emerged. Her phone became a reminder and creator of chaos in her mind. Whenever it chimed, her heart would skip a beat, anticipation rising in her chest. Her thoughts darted between who could be the culprit behind the sensation of the mini heart attack she suffered with each buzz. Most times, it would be her friends. But those weren’t the calls or messages that she craved; her mind darted to the possibility of it being him. 

Jungkook crossed her mind endless times per day. The man who, somehow, had vanished from her life. His absence, although appreciated at first, started to gnaw at her, the frustration and anger that had been her initial response giving way to more complex emotions. She started feeling helpless. The more shows she binged, the more she started to realize that her life, in that moment, was stripped of sense. 

Carolina’s thoughts seemed to gravitate towards Jungkook with every passing day. She would catch herself wondering where he was, what he was doing, and whether he was thinking about her as much as she thought of him. And every time, she would end up feeling ridiculous by occupying her mind with someone whom she believed she didn’t mean half as much to. 

“So,” At the sound of her friend’s voice, Carolina’s gaze left the blurry images that were displayed on her screen to face the girl sitting on the other end of the couch. 

“Oh no…” She sighed, fighting the urge to massage her temples. “what is it this time?” 

“How’s that portfolio coming along?” Deo eyed Carolina through her eyebrows as she sipped on the noodles that were fuming from the cup in her hand. 

“It’s coming.” The short answer was an easy indicator of the lack of interest regarding the topic. “Ya’ know.” 

The friend hummed and Carolina pursed her lips together. Her friends had been bugging her for the past week so that she would get some work done. Deep down, she knew that this was their attempt at making her leave the somewhat depressing state she had allowed her body to grow into. She wasn’t like this—the type to back down; cross her arms while the world revolved and she remained still. She was a force of nature to be reckoned with. And so, it was odd to see her so defeated.

That night, however, after saying goodbye to her friend, she didn’t go to bed. She didn’t slouch on her couch either, as usual, Netflix playing on the screen of the TV with the most recent drama until she either finished it, the sun rose or she fell asleep. Instead, she managed to take all the clothes that laid on her desk’s chair and moved them to her bed, allowing her to sit in front of her laptop for the first time in weeks. 

The first couple of times she hit the power button, it wouldn’t turn on, completely drained of power. So, Carolina lost a couple more minutes looking for the charger. 

It took some minutes for the machine to reboot and for the screen to make her dark eyes glow. Opening the first drawer of her desk, she fetched an old dotted notebook and started to outline a strategy. In her mind, it wasn’t that clear yet, but Carolina had started to define, step by step, how she was going to get control of her life again and make it incredible.

The visual identity of her very own agency wasn’t done that night. The sun rose and she continued glued to her screen. And after a couple of days, she contacted previous clients, explained her new situation, and offered her services. She planned to start her very own agency, offering her creative mind to those in need. A modern-day superhero, if one could say.

The first couple of months were hard—harder than Carolina had anticipated. Regardless, she was in a good place. After a long day, her mind didn’t wander back to Jungkook; she didn’t think of him at all. He had become a wound that healed—a thought that she managed to wipe completely from her mind. 

Someone once said that the most beautiful parts of life were in the small things. Carolina’s small thing lately was the group of people who acted as her employees—some freelancers that she hired to help out on her projects. The group worked weirdly in sync together and they had been a constant in her life in the last weeks. 

Lu, a photographer with a keen eye for art and amazing drawing skills, had become a close friend. The other girl in the group was Sarah, a writer who would often pitch in Carolina’s social media strategies. The three girls were walking to the bar after hitting the dance floor of a club for the past thirty minutes. 

“Are you official, yet?” Sarah nudged Carolina on her side, head tilting to a table where 5 guys were sitting. The latter’s eyes followed and landed on the one who was trying to vent some air through his black shirt. Jae. Carolina laughed. “Exclusive, then?” 

“We’re playing a dangerous game already,” Carolina turned her back to the table, viewing the ludicrous wall of liquor. “Giving it a label will only make it more complicated.” 

“Those big round eyes—he looks just like a lost puppy,” Lu’s speech is slurred. 

“Getting strays off the streets is more your scene. How’s Lucious?” Carolina joked wittedly, remembering that just last week the girl had sent her a photo of a stray cat that she rescued from the streets. It would be kitty number four now and she was certain that the it’s just temporary—until I find someone to take him talk was a big fat lie.

As the conversation develops between the other two girls, Carolina’s eyes fall on the subject of their previous conversation. If anyone had asked her about him, she would most likely say he's nobody—better yet, a work colleague; someone that she hired now and then to help her out on her gigs. But when her friends asked, it had become quite evident that their little rendezvous after work, which usually resulted in her doing a walk of shame back to her apartment the next morning and ignoring his texts for the next couple of days until work brought them together had become more and more common and Carolina was trying her best so that people wouldn’t notice how he messed with her head and heart. Their eyes meet and Jae gives Carolina a giant smile, which she shyly reciprocates before turning around to face the bar yet again. 

People-watching was one of Carolina’s favorite hobbies. Her creative mind would go wild, creating stories according to the faces of the people in her sight, sometimes even roaming into the dialogues they were having. Lucky for her, the area is packed. 

A woman, not much older than her—or at least she guessed—playfully twirled her hair between her fingers, a radiant smile on her lips as she talked to a guy next to her. He had the puffiest lips Carolina had seen that night and it was evident by his body language that he hadn’t kissed or been kissed enough that night. 

Another man sat not so far away and, in contrast to the people next to him, he was gloomy. Head was swinging up and down as his focus was on catching the attention of the barman to ask him for another drink. That one certainly would have a hard time finding a taxi home. And that is of course if he wouldn’t end up sleeping on one of the benches outside of the club. 

The barman that the gloom wanted to attract was busy taking the orders of a young man over the loud noise of the music. The man was leaning his whole body on the counter in a kind of boyish manner, trying his best to speak clearly despite his eyes already appearing somewhat foggy. As he finally finishes, the barman gives him an assertive nod and the man smiles. And suddenly it clicks… that smile. It sends Carolina down a spiral and she has to control the pulsating need that rushes through her body. 

“Hey, you’re feeling ok?” Lu rapidly asks but gets no response. “Are you going to throw up?”

Carolina focuses on the man’s movements and sees how he licks his lips as his back hits the counter, attention dispersing to something—or someone—in the crowd. His silhouette was unmistakable amidst the sea of gyrating bodies now that she had found him. Her eyes dart from his profile to the back of his head and it’s like she has laser vision and it’s starting to burn a hole in his head as his hand comes to caress the area. It’s at that moment that their eyes meet for brief seconds.

“I’ll be right back,” Carolina speaks through gritted teeth, not noticing the man taking a double look at her. 

“Where are you going?” Sarah’s concern is palpable in her voice as she watches Carolina dart through the crowd. 

The pulsating bass of the music reverberated through the dimly lit club, creating a rhythmic throb that seemed to synchronize with Carolina’s racing heartbeat. The air had suddenly become dense with laughter, chatter, and the occasional clink of glasses. 

Carolina’s eyes finally meet the man’s surprised ones again. Determination fueled her steps as she pushed through the tightly packed room, navigating the ocean of people that ebbed and flowed around the bar. Each step felt heavy, like a battle against a roaring sea, the tide pushing her back in the shape of warm bodies that added to the suffocating atmosphere. The scent of perfume, sweat, and spilled drinks mingled in the air; it felt nauseating, the surge of emotions of seeing him after so long threatening to spill over. 

Her breaths came in shallow gasps as emotions threatened to consume her, and yet, the determination to confront the man she had managed to extinguish from her mind propelled her forward. Carolina stands before him, hands resting on her hips as her eyes lock into his. The world seemed to quiet for a moment, the surrounding chaos fading into the background as she prepared to unleash the torrent of emotions that had simmered within her. 

“Carolina, I—” And as her name rolls out of the man’s tongue, she almost crumbles, getting hit by sudden nostalgia. His shaky eyes scan her entirely and she restrains her body from moving. Jungkook is only steps away from her and where she thought hurt would lay, a sense of antipathy is born. 

"Cat got your tongue?" 

Yet again, they were face to face. Had she been completely honest, Carolina was terrified. Her life was decent—good, even. She was healthy, and happy, and enjoyed what she was doing. She was proud of her projects. She would even wake up some mornings and go for a jog. But encountering Jungkook at the club and being with him in the intoxicating setting such as his car, with all those memories and all those emotions, made her swing back and forth between maintaining her cool and ignoring the feelings that hadn’t been dealt with and, instead, shoved deep down into her core. 

“I am sorry.” He paced slightly from the end of the couch he was sitting on to the window. For a few seconds, he stared outside. And then he noticed she hadn’t even blinked. “I am.” 

A long sigh escaped Carolina’s puffy lips. She wondered if he was trying to make her believe his words or if he was trying to realize if he meant them. “So you’ve said.” 

“I mean it.” Jungkook sat back down on the couch. He stared intensely deep into her eyes, trying to reach the warmth of her soul, sincerity pouring through his, while she gazed at him back, void of emotion. “I really do.” 

“Can’t exactly say your word means much.” She reclined back into the armchair. While Jungkook was sitting on her couch, she had decided to take aid in the singleness of her armchair, far enough that he couldn’t reach her. “You say a lot of stuff, but it doesn’t seem to have much meaning.” 

Carolina knew that her harsh words and unfiltered sincerity were one of the things that bothered Jungkook. It was probably one of the things that always made him feel like he was walking on eggshells around her. He was the complete opposite. Politically correct, even. His expressions could fail him—although rarely—but he would always say the nice thing, or not say anything at all. Carolina would be truthful if regarding something she was passionate about, even if it meant saying something the other person wouldn’t enjoy.

“I know what I did to you—the way I acted,” Jungkook stopped mid-sentence, almost as if trying to collect his words, afraid that if he said the wrong thing, Carolina would throw him out of the window. She had already pictured that scenario only minutes after he had entered her apartment. “it was wrong, and you deserved better.” 

“And yet…” She gesticulates with her hands, emphasizing their position. “here we are.” 

He just wasn’t saying the right thing. And if Carolina could be honest, she wasn’t sure there was a right thing to say. Maybe there was nothing that he could say to make up for the heartache she felt. For the humiliation. And seeing him hide his face between his hands as his head hung heavy between his legs, just made her want him gone. And almost as if reading her mind, Jungkook asked “What do you want me to say? I am really really sorry and I haven’t stopped thinking about it and you ever since.” 

And that last sentence was like a punch to the gut. “Ya’ know what? I forgive you!” Almost as if Carolina had been suddenly hit with a wave of good spirits, she gets up from her armchair, her tone chipper. “You are forgiven for being an absolute asshole and a liar. I am completely over the fact that you betrayed my confidence.” Her hands fell to her hips and Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed. “So, please, leave. We don’t have anything else to discuss.” 

Grabbing him by the arm, Carolina almost hauls Jungkook from his seat. “Wait,” his manifests are in vain though, because only when he enforces his stance she stops. “I think I loved you,” Jungkook’s eyes are glued to the floor. “and that freaked me out.” 

“Oh, give me a fucking break.” Arms in the air, Carolina turns to face her wall. She takes a deep breath. “You loved me so you played me and then never spoke to me again. Can’t imagine what kind of father you’d be!” 

He ignores her comeback, “I wanted to be with you every second of my day. I wanted to stay until late in the cloud room with you just noticing how the colors made you look more and more beautiful. You were messing with my mind and I was allowing myself to fall for you, even though it wasn’t appropriate.”

Carolina’s hand doesn’t move from the front door’s handle and she has to strain the laugh that threatens to leave her lips. Jungkook’s stance is incredulous as he doesn’t dare to look her in the eye as he professes what seems to be his undying love for the girl. 

“You’re different and you’re weird and you have a funky taste and it scares the living shit out of me. You made me feel. When you smiled at me. When you trusted me with assignments…” Completely ignoring the girl’s wishes for his departure, Jungkook sits back on the couch again, this time on the armrest, his body facing her. “And then I get to the office, late as fuck, already freaking out, and see that scene. I was shocked. And when I finally came to my senses, I felt too embarrassed to reach out to you.” He speaks fast and his lisp is noticeable. Carolina sees how truthful his words are, his tongue poking the inside of his mouth as he faces the empty wall. “I was ashamed that I let you go like that, let you go through that situation with everyone looking at you and I didn’t stand my ground immediately like I should have.” 

Jungkook stands up and Carolina’s grip on the handle falls. “So, you have every right to hate me. You can even punch me if you’d like if that would make you less hurt…” he walks closer to her, stopping only a couple of inches away, somewhat afraid that she would take on the offer. He gives her a small smile. “although I would prefer you wouldn’t. You look like you have a mean hook.” 

She finally lets out a dry laugh, focusing everywhere but on the man in front of her. She’s trying to remain defensive, fighting the urge from her body to give in to his speech, to believe that he’s saying the truth, that maybe—maybe—this time, things can take a different turn. “So… past tense, huh?” 

He ignores her sarcasm completely, as if switching roles and him being the serious one. Jungkook wants to take her hand that hangs mindlessly in the air but restrains himself from doing so. He fights the urge to run his hands through her fluffy hair like he had done so the previous night in his car. His brain can still recall how soft it felt on his fingers and how it smelled of lavender. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I know it’s my fault and I just want you to know that I feel like garbage for hurting someone who meant—means—so much to me.” 

Carolina purses her lips together, focusing on the dirt that stained the white of his Converse. 

“Can we start over? Friends?” Her eyes land on his extended hand and travel all the way up to his face. He’s hopeful and she can’t wait to touch his skin again, so she shakes it. He smiles radiantly as if a little kid who just won the biggest fluffiest teddy bear at a fair. “I’ll text you tomorrow.” Jungkook wants to sound certain but Carolina senses the shakiness in his voice. 

“Just don’t spam me.” Carolina rolls her eyes while they finally let go of each other’s hands. Jungkook gives her one last look, providing her with a silent chance to change her mind and as she doesn’t, he nods, pleased, before leaving. 

Carolina’s hands fly to her head, fingers massaging her temples as she is dazed by the event she has just lived. She closes her door, back hitting it for support and her focus relies on outside her window, how the sun had already set and the night had taken over instead, the sky painted dark navy blue while some stars shone in the distance. 

There’s a knock on her door and she rushes back to open it, reason completely out of her mind, “Jun—” She stops mid-word. “Jae! I was not expecting you.” 

“In my defense, I did text you. Not my fault you don’t look at the thing.” As he makes his way inside, chuckling, he gives her a small peck on the cheek. “Brought food.” 

“Great!” Before closing the door, Carolina glanced at the empty corridor, trying to shake the weird feeling that left her stomach turning. It doesn’t go away, not even after she ate the ramen Jae brought. And so she takes this sudden unwell state to send him off. The drawers inside her mind were all messy; she had some organizing to do.

[ chapter 5 ]

☁ want to be tagged in the next part? comment below or send me an ask!

[sassy-radio-hazbin-queen]

Ok guys I want to share with you a theory that's been on my mind for a while now. Buckle up it's going to be a long one.

Warning for Angst

Ok so we know how In the ship RadioStatic everyone seems to be on Vox side. Saying he is the unfortunate victim and Alastor is the asshole. The belief is Vox confess his love to Alastor and he just laughed in his face and leaves for seven years.

I DON'T BELIEVE THAT AT ALL

And here's why. Btw it ok if you don't believe this a way I'm just sharing my thoughts ok.

I think that it was Alastor that confess to Vox, and Vox rejects him. But not because he didn't love him but because he knew Alastor didn't love him the way vox needed him to.

So we know Alastor is Canonically Asexual. He was Aromantic but that was announced non canon. So until it is announced cannon again I am going to say he doesn't mind Romantic relationships but he does mind sexual ones.

According to VIZIEPOP Alastor doesn't know anything about his sexuality. As far as he is concerned he just has not found the right one yet. But that doesn't mean he hasn't tried to.

I think he first believes he was in love with Mimsy. During his lifetime they bonded over , Jazz, Dancing and there rather interesting hobbies. They also were victims of abuse and bullying so they formed a bond. When they were Alive still. Alastor confess to Her. But she politely declined. She never told him why though. Although a little hurt he accepts.

Let's jump forward a few years Alastor enters Hell. I like to think he was burying Mimsy murderer when he got shot. Believe it or not she was kinda pissed that he allowed his anger to blindside him. ( She quickly forgave him though).

Anyway Alastor meets Rosie and once again he believes he found love. He loves how safe he feels around her. He can share his deepest secrets and vulnerabilities with her. They love music and old timie things. They both hate Susan. And he just feels Happy. So he confess to her one day. Rosie o f course declines. Hurt and a bit confused Alastor asks why. She tells him to close his eyes and imagine kissing her. Then touching her. Alastor of course grimaces.

She tells him. That yes he does live her. But not in the way he thinks. He loves her like a fawn loves it's mother. Once again he accepted and moved on.

Until Vox.

When Alastor first met vox he approached him like a curious kitten. Vox was a bit intimidated at first but Alastor showed no signs of wanting to attack him. Alastor takes vox in and shows him the ropes of hell.

Eventually Alastor feels the same pull he had with Mimsy and Rosie. He feels like he is in love with Vox. This time though he decided to take his time. To make absolutely sure that He does love Vox. So for 20 years Alastor bonds with vox. They cuddle, watch movies. Alastor allows Vox to play with his ears. He tells Vox about his violent past. Vox shares his story too. One day Alastor allows Vox to take a photo of him. It's the first and only photo of Alastor since he was a child. However In this photo he is smiling genuinely and not a fake smile. Unlike the photo of his childhood.

Alastor finally feels happy. Surely this was the romantic love he had been craving.

That was until a certain moth came to play. Valentino wormed his way into Vox life. Slowly vox began to change and not for the best. Alastor saw this and decides to confess to Vox before he loses him forever. So Alastor tells Vox his feelings for him. He is sure that Vox is the one. He must be. They bonded for 20 years. However Vox tells him those three words he has now come to hate.

" No you don't".

Alastor is confused and upset now. Probably pulling his hair and everything ( yes I headcanon him Autistic and trans too). Vox comfort Alastor but he is still hurt. Vox then explain to Alastor that he is in love with Valentino. He tells Alastor that at one time he did love Alastor but realized that Alastor just didn't harbor the same romantic love that he did.

Although extremely heartbroken. Alastor understands. Vox starts dating Valentino. Very slowly he starts ignoring Alastor. To hang out with the ' Cool kid' eventually Velvette joins and Alastor feels left out.

Vox used to hang out with him. Now he barely talks to him. Alastor doesn't understand at all. IT HURTS HIM DEEPLY. Still he keeps the photo of vox and him. One day Vox Asks Alastor to join the Vees. After 2 years of barely talking during this time Alastor aquires husk soul.

And because Valentino is a pervert moth, Velvet is a stuck up bitch and Vox BROKE HIS HEART. Alastor declines.

Of course vox threatens alastor and the fight happens. Alastor nearly wins but before he can kill Vox he is reminded of what vox used to be. So instead he runs away. As he collapsed to the ground with tears in his eyes the last thing he sees before passing out is his owner staring down at him with a disapproving look.

And that's my theory sorry so long.

[agentrouka-blog]

Do you think if Cersei married a decent lord who treats her better she would actually at least have one child fathered by him ? I don’t think she’s going to cut off her relationship with Jaime but it got me wondering if she’s gonna take it a step further and have hers and Jaime’s children instead of this good guy

When Cersei did conceive her first child by Jaime, it had a direct relation to Robert's disrespectful treatment of her:

As soon as Cersei closed her eyes, the king would steal off to console the poor lonely creature. One night she had Jaime follow him, to confirm her suspicions. When her brother returned he asked her if she wanted Robert dead. "No," she had replied, "I want him horned." She liked to think that was the night when Joffrey was conceived. (AFFC, Cersei V)

Her decision to not have Robert's children at all is also motivated by his treatment.

"A dozen years," Ned said. "How is it that you have had no children by the king?"

She lifted her head, defiant. "Your Robert got me with child once," she said, her voice thick with contempt. "My brother found a woman to cleanse me. He never knew. If truth be told, I can scarcely bear for him to touch me, and I have not let him inside me for years. (AGOT, Eddard XII)

In various instances, she describes how painful, violent and humiliating Robert's sexual abuse of her was. Alongside the humiliation of his public infidelity, the bastard children, the disrespectful treatment in public, the non-sexual violence, the drinking... She specifically did not want his children because she hated him from the bottom of her heart and it was her way of exercising control.

Meanwhile, her little escapist fantasy about Rhaegar does feature trueborn Targ babies:

Her aunt had lied, though, and her father had failed her, just as Jaime was failing her now. Father found no better man. Instead he gave me Robert, and Maggy's curse bloomed like some poisonous flower. If she had only married Rhaegar as the gods intended, he would never have looked twice at the wolf girl. Rhaegar would be our king today and I would be his queen, the mother of his sons. (AFFC, Cersei V)

So, if - and this is a big if - a husband was capable of both treating Cersei with the respect she feels she is due and capable of holding her attention enough, she would probably have had trueborn children without any resentment whatsoever. Perhaps alongside children by Jaime, perhaps not. This doesn't mean she would necessarily be happy, but she would certainly be less furiously unhappy and resentful.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for performing non-consensual surgery on my co-worker?

About a year ago my (31M) co-worker (30~F) (let's call her M) got shot. It didn't affect me much. I had not even known about it at first, but she told me later on.

Within the following year M slowly started getting more aggressive and violent. It was very subtle at first, so I didn't notice, as our relationship has always been very strained. Later on, M attempted to murder our boss on multiple occasions.

About 2 months after her last murder attempt (at some point I managed to talk her out of attempting more), for a reason i am not willing to disclose, I had to be absent from work for half a year.

When M first saw me after I returned to work after the 6 month period, she assaulted me and accused me of causing the deaths of our 2 co-workers.

Recently I found out, that the bullet from a year ago was still stuck in her body and that it was causing her to be more and more violent. I also figured out where exactly she had been shot, so I consulted my other co-worker (40~F) (let's call her B), and we agreed to attempt to remove the bullet from M's leg when she was sleeping, as apparently, according to B, M used strong sleeping medication.

Everything was going great, up until after I removed the bullet. M quickly woke up and shot up, immediately yelling at me to not touch her and stabbing me with the scalpel i had been using.

I feel like I did the right thing. If B and I hadn't interfered, M would've got even more violent.

AITA?