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fluentmoviequoter · 10 months

Note

hey! i loved your imagine with dalton, so i was wondering if you could write another one with possesed Dalton x reader! Please<3333

Thank you much!!!

What I Said in the Dark

A/N: I may or may not have done a little happy dance when I saw you sent another request; thank you so much!! This was requested several times and I enjoyed writing it, although I'm not sure how I feel about the final product.. please let me know what you think! Hope you enjoy :)

Update: Part 2 has been posted! What We Do in the Dark

Warnings: canon typical violence/threats, I used Dalton's possession scenes from Insidious (2010) and The Red Door (2023) as inspiration, lots of 'closing the door' symbolism, angst. 1.1k+ words

Dalton’s voicemail message plays for the fifth time in as many minutes while you look at Chris and huff. “He’s still not answering.”

“He’s fine; probably just painting,” Chris reasons. “Or has company. You don’t have to babysit him, you know?”

“I’m just worried. The power was out longer than before and you know how he is about the dark.”

“I know that he is a big boy who can take care of himself, and I know that we’re going to be late if we don’t leave now.”

Debating how much time you have, you bite your lip and look at the small drawing Dalton had given you sitting on the nightstand.

Chris sighs and moves toward the door. “I also know that you won’t be able to enjoy yourself until you know he’s ok. Go check on him, invite him, whatever, and I’ll see you later.”

Responding with a farewell, you gather your things and walk through the halls to Dalton’s dorm. Since becoming friends with both him and Chris, you find yourself here often and find pride in the fact you’re close enough to Dalton that you don’t have to knock. You open the door as you say Dalton’s name. Closing the door behind you, you notice all the lights are out, and Dalton is standing in the corner, out of fear of the dark, you presume.

“Dalton? Do you need me to plug your lights back in? The power came back on but you might need to reset the power strip.”

Dalton slowly turns to face you, exposing the black substance covering his face. In the darkness, you can’t tell if it is paint, lipstick, or - an idea pulled straight from your nightmares - blood. You freeze, willing your body to do or say something, but everything seems stuck in time.

“I know what you are,” a deep voice calls.

Your eyes snap to Dalton’s lips, which remain closed as the voice speaks again.

“I only kept you around because I felt bad, but I’m over it. Now, I’ll rip your innards out.”

“Dalton, whatever this is, you are stronger than it,” you say shakily, stepping back as he cocks his head to the side.

He smiles, which causes the black substance to leak from his mouth. You swallow and attempt to reset your calm facade as you swing your hand behind your back in a fruitless aim for the doorknob.

“Going somewhere?” The voice asks, causing you to flinch backward and run into the door.

Dalton opens his mouth, causing what you now believe to be black blood to pour onto the floor and splash against his clothes as he rushes toward you. With your back to the door, you have no escape as he grips your arms and leans in. As he gets closer, the blood stops appearing, and his face shifts into a different nightmarish creature. No longer sure if Dalton is even in this new face, you choke on a scream as it licks your cheek with its long tongue, tightening its grip on your arms as you try to reach the doorknob again.

“Dalton, please!” you yell, losing the battle against your tears.

The creature pulls away from you, putting you face-to-face with what looks like Dalton.

“Are you back?” You whisper.

The answer is his hands raising to your neck, crushing your windpipe as he pushes you further into the door, using all of his weight against you. You swing your arms and kick, but he doesn’t feel anything. As your vision blurs, you pull your hand away from Dalton and move it toward the light switch. You hit it, hearing the satisfying ‘click’ as it raises. A short-lived victory, however, as you realize the light was never off, but the power is out again. Out of ideas and nearly out of oxygen, you say Dalton’s name once more. He leans in further, putting his ear to your mouth as if he wants to hear you die. As your eyes close, you feel like you’re falling… and Dalton won’t try to catch you.

“Hey? Hello? Wake up, sleepyhead,” someone says as they poke you repeatedly.

You force your eyes open to see Chris leaning over you, her facial expression flitting between amusement and concern.

“Why are we sleeping on the floor tonight?” She asks. “You and Dalton hang out without me?”

You sit up, rubbing your neck as the memories from last night hit you harder than falling to the floor.

“Where is Dalton?” You ask, taking Chris’ offered hand and standing.

“I dunno. I just got here.”

The door opens as she finishes her sentence, and you both look up to see Dalton closing the door behind him - his clothes are somehow free of blood, as are yours. He smiles when he sees you both.

“What’s up?” He asks as he grabs his art bag.

“Chris, can you give us a minute?” You ask.

She looks at you questioningly, then winks at Dalton before leaving.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” Your hands rise to your neck on their own accord.

“No. I was painting, then I woke up down the hall. Guess nothing terrible happened or I would have remembered it.”

“Can I ask one more question?” You walk to the door and open it as you talk, feeling claustrophobic now that you’re alone.

“Of course.”

“Are you only my friend because you feel sorry for me? I know it’s a weird question but please be honest with me, I’m sick of lies.”

“Lies?” Dalton walks closer to you, then stops in front of you and leans down to look into your eyes, almost identical to the position you found yourself in last night.

“I just - it feels like you’re keeping something from me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Do you want me to leave? Get out of your life?”

“Why are you asking?”

“You said something last night.”

“Whatever I said probably wasn’t true. It’s usually not me talking once it’s dark, if you get what I’m saying?”

“You said you only kept me around because you felt sorry for me and someday you’d rip my innards out. Even if that wasn't you, how am I supposed to say ‘Oh, that wasn’t really Dalton, it’s probably fine?’” Dalton quickly licks his lips as he stands to his full height.

“That first part was true. I wish you’d walk out right now. I wouldn’t notice a difference if you weren’t in my life; other than improvement.”

You nod numbly and put your hand on the doorknob, still looking at Dalton as you try to keep him from seeing your heartbreak.

“Good luck, Dalton. You’re gonna need it. Don't underestimate whatever is in the darkness; I'm not sure you know how dangerous it is.”

“Thanks,” he says as he turns to gather his stuff. “Bye.” You finally turn and close the door on Dalton.

As the door clicks shut, the blood begins to flow once again.

#dalton lambert #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fic #insidious #dalton lambert x reader #requests #insidious the red door #dalton lambert imagine

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ink3dinich0r · 11 months

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MaxxRiki Story Theory Dump

(I'll start this off by posting their matching color shifts because it made me scream when I first saw it LMAO.) Some mutuals and I were talking awhile back about Sports Maxx and Rikiel's supposed linked story, so I wanted to drabble about it here since I've done so on Twitter several times over already and I think I could make it a little neater here heheh.

So, to me, Hermes' story suspiciously fell-off halfway through Stone Ocean, or rather, as soon as she got her revenge, she didn't seem to play into much of the story anymore, and was just an ally to follow Jolyne around. And that's fine, she wouldn't be the first JoBro/Ally character to be that way, but moots and I were brainrotting and thinking that maybe she was supposed to have more story but Araki had cut it either due to changing the ending of Stone Ocean or just time restraints to the story in general.

Hermes' story is really big on revenge, and getting justice for a misdeed. And she gets her justice, for sure! But what if Hermes wasn't the only one looking for revenge?

Rikiel suspiciously tortures Hermes throughout their entire fight, something that was cut from the original anime showing, while he aims to just kill Jolyne outright. He also points out that she "doesn't want to die alone, do you, Hermes?", possibly referencing how she'd made Maxx suffer and die alone when he originally perished. How did he come across this information? If I read the timeline correctly, before his fight with Jolyne and Hermes, he had time to spend with Pucci in the hospital, who might've filled him in on Maxx's fate and fueled his anger towards the group, specifically Hermes, through the info.

The matching rings only show up briefly but one mutual of mine, who studies in media analysis, did point out to me that it was curious how in both the manga and anime, the rings are given a forefront view before the characters are shown, as if they hold a big importance! Both characters are also explicitly stated to be from a "gang", with Rikiel being just a "punk" while Maxx is referenced to being it's "leader"; I think that at some point, Maxx and Rikiel were supposed to be a part of a resurgence to Hermes' arc, but the story might've been scrapped in favor of getting to Pucci's awakening and finally to Weather's story, and the overall ending in general.

There's also the question of how did Donatello know to pull a memory of Sports Maxx out of the ground to specifically stun Hermes enough and make her trip up? I tie that back also to the time that Pucci might've relayed Maxx's fate to Rikiel: in the same sense, Donatello might've been given a recap on Maxx and Rikiel's history by Rikiel himself, since Underworld's Maxx is wearing the ring, and the Maxx from his own episodes with Hermes has none on: he must be from someone's memory, and it wouldn't have been Hermes' own, since she'd never seen a ring on his finger.

The sons of Dio arc, while being one of my most favorites of all the Jojo arcs in all of the series, is rushed, and does feel incomplete in many ways. There's a lot that's left unsaid about them, where they came from (at least for Rikiel and Ungalo), and what goals they had outside of just 'happiness'/'satisfaction'. With all this considered, I also like to read the title of "Kiss of Love and Revenge" as a double meaning. The "love" is not only between Gloria and Hermes, and the "revenge" is not only between Hermes and Maxx. I would like to think that in some way, Araki may have planned for these two characters to show up again in either a backstory or in some sort of connected way, but I've heard he changed the ending of Stone Ocean pretty abruptly, so we'll never know!

I'll post more if I ever come across more connections, or anything that I've forgotten. Thanks for listening. <3

#jules text #maxxriki #sports maxx #rikiel #hermes costello #stone ocean #jjba #donatello versus #enrico pucci #gloria costello

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deepspacedukat · 2 years

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Hello ✨ For your consideration: slightly tipsy Commander Shran flirting with/trying to impress you (a member of Archer's crew). Just imagine the posturing and his antennae focusing on you so much that it's obvious to literally everyone there (even the humans) that he's trying to flirt with you, despite his attempts to be subtle. 💙

Oh, nonny...I absolutely ✨H U N G E R✨ for tipsy Shran. Not the severely-compromised type of tipsy, mind you. Just enough to make him a little more bold and a little lot less subtle in his flirtations than he might normally. Lose those inhibitions, bb!

I realize this was probably not meant as a fic request, but...you’ve given me ideas that I just had to put into writing. GOD, I had so much fun writing this, I can’t even express it properly. Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

One Too Many

Thy’lek Shran x Reader

[A/N: Head empty. No thoughts. Only tipsy Shran.]

Warnings: Tipsy Andorian flirting, Shran as The Least Subtle Flirt In Existence™, slightly suggestive language, pre-relationship fluff, interspecies kissing.

~*~

He was looking at me again from across the room with a glass of Andorian ale as blue as his skin half-empty in one of his hands. The tilt of his antennae was a dead giveaway to what he was thinking about - or rather who.

“He’s going to stare a hole through your clothes if he’s not careful, but who knows? Maybe that’s what he’s aiming for,” Hoshi said giving me a little nudge with her elbow. “That Andorian’s been undressing you with his eyes since the reception began, and I don’t think there are many people here tonight that haven’t caught on.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Sarcasm laced my tone, but I didn’t hate that she was right. Somewhere along the line tonight, Shran’s casual glances in my direction had become...well...less subtle. I couldn’t help but wonder if that corresponded to how much he’d had to drink. Alcohol could even make me look good, I mused as I took a small sip of my own drink. I was still on my first of the night. After all, this was a diplomatic function. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of the Andorians, the Vulcans, and the Starfleet higher-ups. Apparently, Commander Shran didn’t have the same concerns. Oh, he definitely wasn’t drunk, but he’d had a few drinks. If I had to guess, I’d have said that ‘tipsy’ was a more appropriate descriptor for the Andorian’s condition. “He’s never seen humans in anything but Starfleet uniforms before, so I’m willing to bet he’s probably just not used to my appearance.”

“Right. Because you definitely don’t look hot in that dress,” Hoshi snarked. “Shran’s about as subtle as a photon torpedo when it comes to you. He already hangs around you every time our ships meet up. Are you going to at least talk to him? I think he might self-destruct if you don’t.”

As I was thinking about how to answer her, I glanced over where he’d been standing a few moments before only to find his spot vacant. Oh. Well, that settled that.

“I guess I missed my chance,” I said finishing off the last of my drink, setting my empty glass aside, and trying not to sound as disappointed as I felt. Hoshi went to say something then broke out in a wide smile.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” she murmured, but before I could ask what she meant, somebody began tapping their glass in the seemingly-universal signal for a large group to be silent for a moment. Turning to see what was going on, I saw Commander Shran not ten feet away as the crowd began to grow quiet. Once everyone was looking at him, he exchanged his empty glass for two full glasses of Andorian ale from a passing waiter’s tray.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and others, I believe I speak for both the Andorian and Vulcan delegations when I say a sincere ‘thank you’ to our hosts for orchestrating such a lovely evening for us all,” Shran said beginning to move slowly through the crowd. “I’d like you all to join me in an Earth tradition - a toast. Please raise your glasses and have a drink with me.”

Before I could react, the Andorian stopped in front of me and offered me the second drink he’d picked up. With the whole room watching, I accepted with a quiet nod of my head. Shran lifted his glass and spoke loudly.

“To Starfleet,” he called meeting my eyes with his own before continuing, “and their most beautiful officer.”

Echoes of ‘to Starfleet’ flooded the room as everyone took sips of their drinks. My cheeks heated under his gaze as the two of us raised our glasses to our lips. Had he really just said that in front of all those people? Perhaps he’d had more to drink than I initially guessed. Once everyone else had gone back to their socializing, the Commander offered me his arm. Against my better judgment, I took it and let him lead me off to a quieter part of the room.

“It’s refreshing to see you in a more relaxed setting,” the Andorian said leaning against the wall we were standing by.

“The feeling is mutual, Commander–”

“Let’s drop the formalities, shall we? We’re not on duty, after all. You may call me Thy’lek if you wish. Or if that’s a bit too casual, Shran will do just fine,” he said bringing my hand to his lips.

“As you wish...Thy’lek,” I said as a smile curled my lips. “That was quite a toast.”

“I meant every word. Starfleet couldn’t have found a more capable officer if they tried,” he said taking a sip of his ale. My hand was still firmly in his grip, not that I was complaining.

“Oh, ‘capable’ is it? I recall you using a very different word a few minutes ago.” Lifting one of my eyebrows, I played coy hoping that he would take the bait.

“Do you? And what word do you remember in its place?” He asked narrowing his eyes with a half smirk. “Clever? Resourceful?”

“Search me. You’re the one who said it,” I teased and he pulled me a little closer. “Unless, of course, you’ve changed your opinion since your toast...?”

“Not at all,” Shran protested hurriedly, slipping his arm around my waist and pushing off from the wall all in the same movement. With his face barely a few inches from my own, I found my thoughts muddled. “I have always found you beautiful. That will never change.”

“Maybe we should go somewhere more private,” I suggested, and a low hum came from deep in Shran’s throat. “Isn’t that why you’ve been giving me so much attention tonight?”

“Perceptive. Wouldn’t Archer or Forrest have a problem with you leaving?” Shran asked even as his lust-blown pupils gave away his real feelings on the subject.

“Since this is a diplomatic function, I doubt they’d mind if I...solidified relations between our people,” I murmured in a daringly seductive tone.

“Allow me to give you an excuse,” he rasped before taking a small step back and speaking louder. “Lieutenant, would you show me around the gardens?”

Ah, such subtlety. A few people turned to look at us as I quietly acquiesced to his request. With a ridiculous flourish, the Andorian swept me out the door toward the facility’s gardens. As we wove our way through the lantern-lit topiary maze, I summoned up a bit of courage and recalled the information I’d acquired on Andorian flirting. Normally there was some sort of combat involved. I wasn’t quite willing to fight him while wearing heels. Hopefully that wouldn’t disappoint him. Then again, if he’d wanted an Andorian partner, why had he been showing interest in a human?

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you might’ve had one too many drinks tonight,” I giggled as we hurried through the foliage.

“You might just be right.” Shran’s voice came out light and amused as he brought me into a small open area with a fountain and turned to face me. Setting our glasses on the fountain’s ledge, the Commander stepped closer and grasped my waist.

“So...here we are,” I murmured as I laid my hands on his shoulders and looked up into his eyes.

“Tell me now before I do or say something that might jeopardize our friendship. Have I read this situation incorrectly?” His voice was thick with emotion and lust, his breath laced with the scent of the ale we’d both consumed.

“Thy’lek...just kiss me already,” I crooned as I looped my arms around his neck. With a little smirk, the Andorian did just that, kissing me with all the passion I’d come to expect from him. He never did anything in half-measures, and this was no different. When I was breathless and held upright only by the saving grace of his arms around me, we finally separated for air, only to become aware of the sound of cheering. Curiously, we looked up at the balcony of the venue’s upper floor and saw Hoshi and Phlox applauding as they looked down at us.

“It’s about time!” My cheeks started burning at Hoshi’s shout, but before I could move away or say something in return, Shran dipped me low. A gasp tore from me despite knowing he’d never let me get hurt, and it was promptly stolen away as he kissed me again. Everything faded away except the feeling of Shran’s body against mine and the mischievous glee bubbling up in my chest at the unfolding possibilities of what being intimate with him could mean. After all, if this was how he behaved in public, who knew how he’d be in a setting that was actually private?

#deepspacedukat fic #thy'lek shran #thy'lek shran x reader #commander thy'lek shran #commander shran x reader #commander shran #fluff #tipsy andorian #hoshi and phlox ship it

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how-do-i-turn-this-thing-off · 6 months

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The Rebels Last Stand

Chapter LXXIV: Without

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To start from Chapter I, go here: https://how-do-i-turn-this-thing-off.tumblr.com/post/169184041771/oh-my-god-you-know-what-i-want-i-want-rey-to-be

////////////////////////////////////////

The spacedock was packed with Hux's stormtroopers as the transport doors opened in front of Ren, their helmets a landscape of white, almost from wall to wall, as if they were in formation for a troop review. They started firing the moment they saw him and if he hadn't put himself at the front of his own company they all would have been cut down in seconds. As it was his mind reached, the Force surging in him as his lightsaber moved blindingly fast, deflecting the first round of blaster bolts just long enough to free a hand so he could reach out at random, grabbing a group of stormtroopers on the right and smashing them into their companions on the left, sweeping across the room so that half of the company was suddenly bowled over by the crush of their fellows. He lost some of his own men in the maneuver, unable to both shield them and use such a punishing Force Push, but it halved the capacity of the enemy to keep firing, allowing him to step forward.

Lives, paid for lives. The way of war. He spared it no attention as he came into melee contact with men who had been his not so long ago, cutting through them. Armor gave way to flesh, both the white and the red matter burned black by his blade. He could only keep moving. He was followed, he felt that much, but by how many he couldn't know, except that Chewie remained close by his left shoulder, his bowcaster flexing, miniature explosions throwing soldiers into the air wherever it was aimed. Rose was somewhere in the very back, also firing, but as covered as she could be. Blaster bolts moved past him in a blur from both in front and behind, and his lightsaber lived with him, drawing on his power freely, the blade sweeping, rising and falling in his hands, biting into the soldiers who had betrayed him.

Rey, he said, again, in his head, as he had so many times before. He couldn't feel her, but she must be here. Rey, an echo of so many lonely nights. They were her lonely nights also. They had called each other's names so many times to the empty stars. But the stars were not empty now.

The Force moved and behind him and to his right he felt the doors on the right side of the spacedock open, heard the battle cries of the Rebels, and continued to angle himself in that direction, pushing the enemy stormtroopers in a circling pattern left. He hadn't been able to give Poe as much room as he would have liked but it didn't seem to deter the Rebels at all, and they were shooting the moment they had enough space to see what they were shooting at. Their blaster bolts joined the fray, the blue bolts of the regular Resistance blasters mixed with the red bolts of the many First Order blasters he'd helped them steal, and together they manuvered their way toward each other. It didn't take long to meet up, and Ren was surprised in a moment of relative calm to recognize Sergeant on his right, firing for all he was worth and making a noticeable dent in the enemy line in front of him.

“Any sign of them?” Poe yelled from somewhere behind Ren as Rose aligned with him, still firing.

“Nothing,” Ren yelled back. Poe shouted a couple of orders and they began to move again, Rebels and red stormtroopers together, pushing to cut off the enemy stormtroopers from their own transport. At least a couple at the back noticed the maneuver and tried to retreat, ducking towards the Lamda's doors, but Chewie ululated what Ren seemed to remember was a very bad word in Wookie, the bowcaster shooting several times in quick succession, and the opening was for a moment lost in smoke and debris as the nearest stormtroopers were hit, their bodies thrown up almost high enough to touch the ceiling before coming back down, limp and lifeless.

“Thanks, Chewie,” Poe said as Ren used the moment of sudden uncertainty he could feel in front of him to push forward, clearing the way further. Rey, he said again in the Force, and felt what he could almost call a response, albeit one he didn't recognize. It was as though something other than her was calling back to him, and he didn't have the time or the mental space to make sense of it as the leading edge of the Rebels finally reached the Lamda's doors and set themselves in perimeter positions in front of it, securing the opening. Poe was first to get there and ducked inside, Rose practically his shadow; there was a quick, sharp burst of blaster fire, then Ren and Chewie joined them, Ren cutting down the last guards who came forward, their bolts unable to touch them.

The Lamda's interior was plush and expensive, a far cry from the cold and industrial spacedock he'd just stepped out of, but no amount of soft lighting or expensive carpet could cushion the blow of what was waiting for him; Rey, unconscious, in the arms of Leia, who was bleeding, and Ammu and Ani, the little boy shaken with silent tears on his cheeks, Ammu favoring a foreleg with a large and oozing burn blistered almost all the way across its joint. The dead stormtroopers all around them, as well as the several broken pairs of stuncuffs on the floor, told the rest of the story as Poe knelt just next to Rey with Rose on the floor on her other side, grabbing a battered medical sensor out of his pocket and hovering the blue light over her face, her chest.

“How is she?” Ren asked, taking off his helmet for the moment, his heart in his throat, his blade slack in his other hand.

“Unconscious, but alright,” Poe said, but Leia was staring straight at him, and only when he raised his eyes to hers did he realize that this was the first time they'd really seen each other up close since he was a boy.

“She's not alright,” Leia said, to him, specifically. “She's fallen.”

For a moment, the word didn't register. For a moment, he didn't understand her meaning. But then he looked at Rey and opened himself to her, truly, fully, in their bond, and what he found there was such a tidal wave of Dark Force energy that it seemed for a moment to wash over him as well, to try and capsize him. He braced himself as if against a Push- it felt so real in his mind that he was almost sure of its physical presence- but the Dark Force within him was joined with it, and so it did nothing to him.

“I don't understand,” he said, stepping toward Rey, but to go to her meant to go to his mother also and he stopped, uncertain. “How did this happen?” Poe and Leia glanced at each other, something unspoken between them, and it twisted itself within Ren with an edge of betrayal that bordered on rage, and that he had to work to push away. “I cannot help her if I do not know,” he pointed out.

“Help her,” Leia demanded. “Why would you want to help her?”

“It was the crystal,” Ammu said before she was done speaking, the shining tears on his green cheeks apparent also in the rough scratch of his voice. “It's in her sword.”

“We're taking her with us,” Leia said, as Ren noticed for the first time a second source of Dark Force energy, focused on an unfamiliar lightsaber hanging from Leia's belt. “We don't need you to save her.” At that even Poe looked at her with a slightly doubtful cast, but Ren ignored all of it, switching off his own lightsaber, returning it to his belt, and centering himself. Beyond the Lambda the battle still raged- at the very edge of his senses, he could feel the Knights had arrived- but there was nothing more important than what was in front of him, as he reached out, closed his eyes and went in to Rey.

“It's not the Dark Force she's fighting,” he said aloud, surprised. Rey and the darkness were one; she worked in it and through it, or rather, it was responding to her will even though she didn't seem to be fully aware of it, focused more on him, on Leia, and on another battle. There was something else in her, a different enemy, and as he found it his eyes snapped open.

“She will not be safe as long as the Dark Force is in her,” Leia said, her face still older than her remembered it, still smaller than he remembered it, but her expression remarkably cold and set in a way he didn't remember at all.

“What have you done?” he murmured, the rage he'd turned away from before coming back within him, building and building. Rey didn't need his help now so he withdrew from her, returning his focus to the battle at his back. The Knights were causing havoc, as was their way, and the combined red stormtroopers and Rebels protecting them at the door were holding steady, but in order for the plan to work they needed to all be off this spacedock within minutes. There was no time for subtlety, and he was in no mood for it. “Tell them,” he said to Leia, gesturing at Poe, at Rose, at Chewie, lingering behind him and to the side, watching. “Tell them what you've given her.”

“A sedative,” she said coolly.

“What kind of sedative?” She said nothing, so he repeated, “What kind of sedative, mother?” The word hit between them like a challenge, a bitter demand, and when she pursed her lips, her eyes still on him, and said nothing, he did it for her. “She dosed Rey with SLV-16. It sedates, because it forces the will of the user onto the victim. Rey is helpless to do anything other than what she is told while it's in her.”

“If she can be contained, she can be helped,” Leia insisted.

“It's mind control?” Rose demanded, looking at Ren, her expression all astonishment and horror.

“Reductive, but essentially, yes. A Sith weapon,” he said humorlessly, donning his helmet.

“The darkness is not forever, Ben,” Leia insisted, the slightest blush of humanity finally showing in her expression, but for him, not for Rey. “Anything that is lost can be found.”

“The Dark Force does not take your will from you, mother. Only people do that.” He looked away from her finally, back at Rey's face, now turned toward him, her eyes open, and held out his hand.

////////////////////////////////////////// My Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/how_do_i_turn_this_thing_off My Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/how_do_i_turn_this_thing_off

#star wars #kylo ren #ben solo #reylo #rey #trls #the rebels last stand #fanfic #fan fiction #ao3 author #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #fanfiction #leia #poe #finn #rose #chewie

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zeldas-cigarrette · 3 years

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⊱┊𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬. ↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃

— pairing; ⚢donna sheridan x fem!reader

— word count; 3.3k

— summary; Sophie organised an afternoon of speed dating for her mother. You happened to be a customer at the certain restaurant it took place, and it seemed as if Donna was more interested in you than in all the guys that came for her. (lots of fluff because I can’t bring myself to write smut atm. ) xx

— fluff 🍰₊˚.༄ ೃ -

—❥ author’s note; My obsession with Meryl Streep keeps me sane during all those exams I have atm… Again, I’m so sorry for not posting my requests but I tried finishing them all but when I read them again they were so insanely bad, I can’t upload them… I will rewrite them probably next weekend (if I have enough time). But thanks for sticking around although I’m not as active (which will change in a few weeks, when I’ve finished my finals).

..⃗.🕊•̩̩͙⁺⤾·˚ ༘ ◡̈ ꒰ 🥥 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ✧˖*°࿐

🏷 tag list; @paulawand , @pearplate

The sun was already burning down when Donna found out about her daughter's plans for the afternoon. Apparently, Sophie decided to host a speed dating for her mother in some restaurant on the island. She wasn’t interested in the first place but for the sake of her daughter, Donna decided to give it a try - maybe she’ll find the love of her life? It wasn’t until both mother and daughter arrived at the chosen restaurant when the older woman started worrying about what’s to come behind those doors. The few birds that gathered on the windowsill started chirping as if they were trying to warn her, „don’t go in!” but it seemed too late for that. „I don’t know if this is the right thing Soph,” Donna lurked through the window, seeing a couple of older guys waiting eagerly for someone to entertain them. „It’s gonna be fun Mum, just let it happen,” and with the huge smile spread over the young girl's face, she pushed the door open. Quickly the smell of food surrounded both women.

Only a couple of women were interested in dating as well, everyone was already sat on separate tables only waiting for the main host to start the thing. On the first look, none of these men caught her eye, none of them looked attractive. However, who was she to judge? Said and done, Donna took a seat opposite of a man with full fair hair and glasses. The two minutes started in which they were supposed to get to know each other.

You were sat in the corner of the restaurant, observing the show you were offered from afar. The people, including the owner, were making a fuss about the speed dating someone had arranged. You had moved to the island just a couple of months ago and though such things as speed dating were a pretty common thing in England, it seemed to be hardly a thing around here. Chewing on a shrimp, you wanted to hold back the laughter when you saw the angelic-looking woman’s face when one of the guys seemingly told her an interesting fact about him. She didn’t look very happy with the selection of men. Luckily you had an amazing view of the ocean and you could watch the sun gleaming on the water.

For every passing minute, Donna regretted the decision she made. The first guy was as dull as his name, Tom had 15 cats. He told her a story of when a few of his cats got sick and vomited in his flat. It was a full-on ramble for two minutes not letting his opponent get to word for once. Donna wasn’t sure if she had control of her face, but if she wasn’t at least the guy knew how horrible he was. The next one - didn’t even introduce himself - was shy. So shy that he only stared down on his fingers. Therefore when Donna made the first move and told him a little about her life, he could only nod and blankly stare a hole into the hotel owner.

Sunken in a daydream, you scribbled something in your notebook hoping the words would turn into poems. When you first came to the island you had hoped to overcome the ongoing writer's block, but until now not even the alluring landscape could change that. It ever so often occurred that your eyes landed on the woman with the golden locks not sure if it’s because of how dissatisfied she looked or if it’s her that captured you. Often you came to this restaurant to get the words flowing or to talk to the owners. They have been welcoming from the first moment, so you decided to go there again and again until it became the only restaurant you’d go to.

Meanwhile, Donna was meeting the fourth guy that wanted to meet her. It seemed to be a better start than the rest of the guys, he wasn’t perfect but neither was he as self-centered as the ones before. Their conversation was good until he dropped the 'women belong in the kitchen’ bomb. It ruined everything for her. „Alright people, we’re gonna take a short break so everyone can let the impressions sink in,” Sophie quickly interrupted when she saw how uncomfortable her mother felt. Each of the participants got up and walked out on the terrace or ordered drinks from the bar. Donna scoffed and buried her head in her hands. „This is awful,” it was only a whisper but audible to her daughter. „I’m sorry, I really thought that you’re gonna have fun,” the girl replied. Without another word the woman got up and wanted to walk a few steps to stretch the tense muscles in her leg when she spotted you sitting in the corner of the room.

She took small steps to reach your table, she was curious about what you were doing there all alone scribbling in your notebook. At first, you didn’t notice her coming towards you, but when you did she seemed as if a halo would enlighten her. The notebook was closed in an instant when you realized that you were the aim she was about to reach. „Hi” you greeted her with a wide smile. „Hello, I noticed you sitting all alone,” it was obvious that Donna searched for an opportunity to escape the dating hell her daughter had organised. You saw in how deep of misery the woman was. „Would you like to sit with me for a while?” you requested and pointed at the chair opposite of you. The noise in the overfilled restaurant was deafening so the blonde woman didn’t bother using words and just pulled out a chair. „You don’t know in how many ways you just saved me,” she smirked and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. You blushed but tried to hide it while leaning your face in both of your hands.

„I saw you’ve been busy over there, isn’t speed dating fun?” you teased not knowing if it was alright to overstep this line. „They’re all abhorrently boring and irritating,” the woman huffed and throws a disapproving look at the crowd of men. You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, you’ve never had the problem with weird men. „I’m Y/n by the way,” you reached out your hand which she gladly shook. „Nice to meet you, my name’s Donna.” Even her name sounded angelic. The woman’s company brought you joy and even ideas for new poems came to your mind. „You could stay here until it’s over, I don’t mind,” you suggested avoiding eye contact, fearing rejection. „I’d love to,” it sounded like heaven to you. Therefore she stayed and every time you looked at her, you hated to avert your gaze the next second. Although Donna seemed to enjoy herself, the men on the other side of the room looked as if they were disappointed that she left. „One of their cats vomited in their flat,” she told you rolling her eyes. „Aww, I love cats but without the vomiting,” you giggled and tried to find out who it was by just scanning them. „It’s the blond one,” she pointed at a tall, skinny guy. „Oh yes, he absolutely looks like a cat guy,” you remarked dryly not averting your gaze from the giraffe-like man.

Sophie saw her mother sitting with you, smiling and giggling sometimes. She didn’t dare to make her comeback and go through another round.

„Would you like something to eat while you’re waiting for this to be over?” you asked shyly. „Actually, yes! I’ve been starving since we’ve come here and the conversations I’ve had didn’t make it go away,” Donna explained and bit down her lip. You waved for Elias, a waiter, for her to order. You’ve been exploring the island with him a couple of times and learned that he would rather like to work on the mainland as a teacher than work at his parent's restaurant. The food was served in less than ten minutes and she hummed while eating. „This has to be the best one I’ve eaten yet,” Donna declared while putting the cutlery on her plate.

Donna admired you for your kindness of letting her stay with you, she was lost in the eyes of yours and how your y/h/c hair was blown from the wind from time to time. The opened window offered her a marvellous view on the deep blue ocean. She felt safe in your company and the stories you’d told her about your future plans captured her. „Then why have you decided to come to Kalokairi when you plan on becoming a writer?” the older woman curiously asked. „Well, I had a very severe writers block and wanted to be surrounded by nature and I’ve a lot about this place in tourist guides so I decided to come here to get my writing flowing,” you explained. „Oh I’m sorry, I hope you’ve overcome it by now.” „I think I just did,” you cheekily replied. Unknowingly that your time was up by now, Sophie strutted over to the both of you.

„Mum, I’m sorry to interrupt but we’re done,” the young girl smiled while looking at you. „I’d really like to do this again,” Donna circled with her finger on the table, „I’ll just give you my address and you can come over some time.” Donna scribbled something on a napkin and handed it to you. You tried to hide the huge smile that was about to form on your lips. „Thanks, I’d also love to repeat this,” your whisper was barely audible. Donna just winked before leaving with her daughter, she was gone and left you with butterflies in your stomach. That day you’re writers block seemed to be gone and you were finally able to bring some words on paper.

»As I sat and looked at her and the rolling hills she sat upon I thought, what amazing luck I have that the world had created such beautiful things and given me the eyes to see them.« *

At first, you’ve been too afraid to drop that little poem off at her house, but when you gathered enough courage you just went for it. It was only when you arrived that you realised she was managing a hotel. You quickly dropped it off with your phone number written on it, not brave enough to give it to her in person. The following hours consisted of you having almost a nervous breakdown not wanting to receive rejection again. You had enough of that for a lifetime. Was she even interested in that way or was she just being nice? It took her until the next morning to get back to you, but when she did, it brought your heart to quiver.

She invited you over for a walk along the coastline by sunset. Whenever Donna laughed, it felt as if the world was changing for the better, and she smiled like a goddess. When the sun was almost gone and barely visible, it made the whole island shimmer in a shade of magenta. The older woman seemed as if she took a liking to you, that’s when you realised the arm sneaked around you. It was that day when you never wanted to leave Kalokairi or the high you’ve been on since you first saw her.

—♡︎

Over the weeks you two had somehow developed an unspoken romantic relationship, none of you were brave enough to talk about the strong feelings in between. When Donna wasn’t busy working in the Hotel, you did almost everything together, sat by the beach while you used her as your muse for writing or you two cuddled on the couch.

You had sent your work to a publisher in New York when you had gathered a few more poems and one night you received an email. They actually wanted you in New York, the head of the company wanted to meet you first and if everything goes well he wanted to offer you a contract and an apartment in which you could get your words flowing. Although that sounded like a dream to you, so surreal and perfect to be true, your true new home was the island and the mere thought about leaving was too much. That’s why you didn’t tell Donna. You weren’t sure if this was the right time or if she’d even care.

„Why did they have to leave her out, just because she couldn’t pay for the country club?” the thing you loved about her, was that she always commented on the movies you watched. „It seems unfair to me,” you added and snuggled closer. You were partly on your laptop to check your mails for a confirmation on an order you placed. She was holding you close while her head was resting on yours. It was the smell of the ocean that comforted you and made your eyelids heavy. You had never stayed overnight at her house because you didn’t know if that was alright for her, so you fought against tiredness. Few strands of her hair slightly covered your eyes which only caused you to give in to your exhaustion more.

The steady sound of the movie and her beating heart made you even more tired until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer. A comforting wave of sleep hit you and soon you were comforted in a dream. It wasn’t until the woman you’d fallen asleep on moved abruptly, that you woke up. „Ouch,” you murmured and your head jolted in an upward direction. „I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you,” Donna sounded weird but you brushed it off due to the late hour. „Don’t worry, is everything alright?” you then asked while straightening your back. Only a light hum was a response to your question, she then focused on the movie again. Minutes passed and your eyelids started to feel like cement. „Okay, you know what? It’s not okay. I know going through your things wasn’t right, but your laptop was open and I’ve seen the email from the publisher and internally I’m going mad and-“

„Stop,” it was a short but loud enough interruption of her rambling. Donna's eyes grew wide. „I don’t mind if you’re going through my things, but before you assume something you could’ve asked me, because I wasn’t planning on going,” you didn’t want to snap in that way. Only a regretful „Oh..” broke the uncomfortable silence. You felt bad for speaking to her in that tone. „I’m sorry but I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, I just found you.” A small but proud smile formed on your lips, maybe the feelings were mutual. „I’m not going anywhere,” you quietly replied. Both of you started staring at the screen of the tv again, wordlessly. „Y/n?”

You hummed in response. „I think I love you.” „You think?” you laughed, „because I might love you too.” Her hands quickly found your face and pulled you in her direction, „Is that alright?” A slight nod confirmed and Donna’s lips found yours. They moved against yours in sync and that’s when you first noticed how soft they were, she tasted like peach and lavender. „Your hair’s so soft,” she mumbled when she stopped for air, after that Donna quickly found your lips again. „And your cute when you’re all worried,” you added when you gasped for air.

That night you stayed with Donna and fell asleep cuddling her. She wore a blue pyjama with puppies all over it, you were gushing over how adorable she looked.

—♡︎

„Come on we’re going to be late for the ferry if you don’t hurry up,” Donna rushed past you to turn off the kitchen lights. „Yeah yeah don’t rush me or I’m never gonna finish,” you replied and closed your suitcase. You were going home for your father's birthday and they wanted to meet the woman that you couldn’t stop talking about. „Ready?” „Yes.” Donna stretched out her hand for you and pulled you after her. „I hope they’ll like me,” she pondered while loading the suitcases in the trunk. „They will absolutely love you, trust me,” you said and helped her closing up.

The ferry was crowded as usual and you two barely had enough space so Donna demanded you to sit on her lap. „I hope we’re gonna catch our flight,” the woman mumbled and nervously checked her wristwatch. „Don’t sweat it, we’re gonna make it on time it’s still early,” you cackled, knowing that she was nervous. The ferry sailed over the water just as gracefully as a bull in a china shop. When the ferry reached the mainland, Donna and you quickly rushed to a cab and drove to the nearest airport. The sky was flawlessly blue, not a cloud could be seen.

Not a lot of people decided to fly to England on that day, you could count 17 people at the checkpoint. In the meantime Donna was a nervous wreck, the woman constantly fidgeted with the keychains. „Ew your hands are sweaty,” you joked when you took hers in yours, „don’t be afraid, I’m with you the whole time.” Donna forced a smile on her face then followed you on the airplane. It wasn’t a long flight, maybe four or five hours. The start was a rough patch, Donna’s anxiety of flying was at its highest and she was seemingly about to throw up. Luckily you could talk her down and she soon fell asleep.

Arriving in London Southend, which was close to your parent's house, your girlfriend's nerves seemed to be calmed and you almost thought she’d taken something. „Let’s get out of here, my brother’s gonna pick us up,” you declared as both of you got your luggage. „He’s very much into cars and all that stuff, so if he’s annoying you just tell him to shut up, I do this every time.” „Oh I hope it’s not getting too complicated so that I can keep up,” she stifled a laugh and cheerily followed you along to the exit. As usual, your brother couldn’t shut up about the new cars he is about to tune, but luckily the ride was only about 40 minutes.

Your father was fascinated by Donna, the two of them got along quite well and even your mother seemed to approve of your choice this time. There have been a few women she wasn’t fond of, almost hated them and in retrospect, she was right about them. As it got darker outside, your father's guests said their goodbyes and left one by one until only the five of you were left at the table. „We’re gonna go to bed, it’s getting late and I’ve got work tomorrow,” your father declared and clapped his hands on both of his legs before getting up. „Yeah me too,” your brother said.

„Wanna sit in front of the fireplace for a while?” you asked as all of them were gone. „Absolutely.” „Thanks for coming, I was afraid you wouldn’t like my family because of how crazy they are sometimes,” you whispered when you draped a blanket over the both of you. „They’re all lovely people, I’m happy they don’t seem to hate me,” Donna joked. „They don’t, they love you but maybe not as much as I do,” you sweet-talked. Her finger booped your nose before she planted a quick kiss on your forehead. „Can I hold your hand?” she quietly asked. You nodded, feeling her soft palms against yours was enough to make you feel safe. While you sat there watching the fire die out, the grip around Donna got tighter, fearing she’d be gone as soon as the sun rises. But she wasn’t, she was still there in the morning and the morning after and so on. You were happy with her, happier than you would’ve imagined.

* used a poem from atticus

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twdeadfanfic · 3 years

Text

Vows Pt.1

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Series Summary:

The last battle with Negan doesn’t go as it should, with Negan coming on top, and so reader, Daryl’s girlfriend, offers herself as a wife to Negan if he doesn’t kill Daryl or anyone else. Negan accepts, he won’t kill anyone but will take reader as a wife, and he’ll take Daryl and some of the others to the Sanctuary as prisoners, promising not to hurt anyone if reader is one of his wives and the communities work for him.

This has both flashbacks to reader and Daryl’s story since meeting to now, and the present with reader living at the Sanctuary as a wife, trying to keep Daryl and their people safe, and she and the other wives dealing with Negan, plotting... (This is not a Negan x reader fic!)

N/A: I wrote several chapters of this months ago (Before 10C...) , but never felt like posting them once the show came back (and saddened me), and so I kept them for myself. But here’s the first chapter I wrote, in case any of you might be interested in reading this.

Everything was wrong.

You were supposed to win this.

You all had gone to fight Negan and his Saviors even if neither of you were sure about being able to come on top, wondering if you all were going there to die, trying to make use of Dwight’s intel…only to find that Negan had used him, misleading you all, right to an ambush, towards which seemed almost the whole group of Saviors aiming at you, and it was a big, huge group.

Daryl had stepped in front of you as if he could shield you, before you could do the same for him, while Negan made one of those stupid speeches of him and berated Rick…Daryl got his rifle ready and so did you, if you were going to die, you’d die fighting and putting down as many Saviors as you could.

But then, something had happened. The guns of the saviors had malfunctioned, exploding on the Savior’s hands, hurting them. It seemed that Eugine had done something to those, judging by the punch that one of the Saviors gave him. You all had taken advantage of it and of the distraction that it created, and for a moment, you had dared to have hope, to believe that you could win this…

You couldn’t. Maybe in another universe, but not in this one.

There had been too many saviors who hadn’t used those manipulated guns, gunning down your friends and people, until Rick called to a stop, and you weren’t sure if the Saviors weren’t just going to just shoot you all dead, but Negan called to a stop too.

So there you were now, on your knees, next to Daryl and your people, both dead and alive, while Negan walked around you all, grinning and swinging that barbed bat, while the Saviors pointed guns at you all. It reminded you of your first encounter with Negan, which you had survived…you supposed you wouldn’t survive this one…you looked around at your defeated friends, feeling like crying, but you wouldn’t give those assholes that satisfaction.

“You all have balls, I give you that,” Negan was again talking, you knew by now that he loved to hear himself speaking. “But you all are idiots. This could have worked, we all could have been happily together, but of fucking course, Rick here had to do something and lead you all with him, and now, people have to die.”

Negan had stopped in front of Rick, and he placed his bat under his chin, the spikes digging into Rick’s skin, drawing blood as he made him lift his head to look at him. “Look at you. You didn’t have enough getting Carl killed, now you are going to get all these people killed too.”

Rick lost it at that, trying to get up, growling, trying to throw himself at Negan, which seemed to be what that asshole was expecting and hoping. He hit the head of the bat onto Rick’s stomach, not hard enough to hurt him badly, but enough to leave a bruise and to knock the air out of his lungs and send him to the ground with a grunt as he tried to recover his breath.

You heard Michonne and Daryl growl next to you and you shook your head at them, terrified of them trying something and Negan killing them right there, you thought he might kill you all either way, probably, but if there was a chance of some of your friend not dying, you’d do whatever you could to ensure it.

Negan noticed it, giving you a smug smile before he looked at Michonne, the smile turning into a full grin while Michonne glared at him, looking just a second away from trying to cut Negan into pieces with her katana, but finally reaching to help Rick instead.

Then, Negan stopped in front of Daryl, and dread filled you. “Look at this…my escaped, feral, stupid dog…” He grinned, lifting Daryl’s head with the bat like he had done with Rick, though Daryl’s eyes were still low.

You knew how the time that Daryl had to spend tortured at the Sanctuary had traumatized him, and now you could see it right there in front of you, how Daryl was looking, so defeated and done. You hated it.

“Well, dog…you’ve been a bad boy.” Negan pressed the bat harder into Daryl’s skin, drawing blood, and you dig your nails into your palms to stop yourself from doing or saying anything. “I’m going to take you back home to your kennel and I’m going to show you what happens to bad dogs that run away, and it won’t be only like what I did to Dwight.”

Negan threatened with that grin still on his face, but Daryl did nothing, still seeming so defeated, he didn’t move or made a sound while Negan ran the bat from his chin down his neck and to his shoulder, the spikes scratching the skin, creating blood patters, and you almost couldn’t control yourself at that.

Negan stepped back, signaling to some saviors to go and grab Daryl to take him back to the Sanctuary, and sure, it was good that he wasn’t going to kill him, but you couldn’t deal with Daryl being taken prisoner again, to that place that had traumatized him, to be tortured in an even worse way until he died or Negan got bored and killed him…no, you couldn’t let Daryl go through that, you couldn’t…

“Wait!” You jumped onto your feet, startling everyone, and Daryl, who hadn’t moved a muscle for himself, seemed to try to go to you, eyes betraying how scared he was, but the Saviors were already holding him back.

“Someone wants to die first.” Negan turned to face you, bat ready.

“No, no, wait, wait! Please, please!” You begged, holding your hands in front of you and dropping onto your knees again, in front of him, ready to beg on your knees if that’s what it took to save Daryl, hoping like hell that Negan wasn’t just going to bash your head, but he stopped the bat right on time. “You want wives, right? That’s what you do with women, yeah?” You said, voice shaking, you had heard about that. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your wife!” You heard Daryl struggling, but you didn’t look back at him, eyes on Negan.

“Well, now, now, now…look at that…” Negan chuckled, giving you a smug smile while he twirled his bat. “Someone’s throwing herself at me with open arms and open legs to save her pretty neck.” You bit your tongue at that. “Sure…why not, it’d be less wasteful than killing you. Alright, sweetheart, deal, you can come with us.” He nodded to the Saviors behind him.

“What the hell are you doin’?!” You heard Daryl’s yelling, and you wondered if he thought that you were betraying them or if he knew what you were trying to do. You ventured a look at him and you saw it in his eyes, he knew what you were doing, and he was not having it. You knew he wouldn’t have let you do this, that he’d have gotten himself killed to stop it, and you were glad for the Saviors who were holding him back as he struggled.

You saw some of your friends looking at you like they wanted to do something, whether they thought that you were betraying them or knew what you had in mind. But after what had happened in your first encounter with Negan, everyone seemed not to want to risk it, doing nothing, and you were glad of it. You didn’t want to turn this into an even bigger blood bath.

“Poor doggy…” Negan taunted Daryl while the Saviors who were holding him threw him to the ground when he kept struggling and cursing, holding his arms behind his back, tying them and pinning him to the ground, from where he looked at you, scared and desperate, and you couldn’t keep looking at him. “His girl stepping out of him…don’t blame her, she’s a smart girl.”

You got up again, looking at Negan trying not to let your anger get the best of you, you wanted to solve this, not make it worse. “I’ll marry you,” you repeated. “But you won’t kill any of these people. That’s the deal.”

Negan looked you up at down as if surveying you, a smirk growing on his face. “That’s a shitty deal, don’t you think? I let everyone live while getting one single wife? Half of the people here should be proposing to me so I let the other half live.” Negan waved the bat around as he chuckled.

Well, damn. This wasn’t going as you had hoped. “I…I can be a handful,” you said, giving thanks for whatever had made you come with a quick answer that seemed to amuse Negan.

“I see…” Negan seemed to survey you again.

“Nobody dies, they keep working for you, and I marry you and do whatever you get those women doing for you,” you said, trying not to shudder. “Seems like a pretty good deal, if you ask me.”

“Well…” Negan looked from you to Daryl, who was struggling on the ground, pointing his bat at him. “I should ask him if it’s a good deal. Is it worth, doggy? Letting all your sorry asses live…just so I can have a piece of that ass?” Negan seemed thoroughly amused with himself and he slapped your butt, making you gasp in surprise, which seemed to amuse him more.

“You don’t fuckin’ it touch her!” Daryl growled, trying to get up, but Saviors kept holding him down, shoving him back to the ground roughly. “Don’t touch her!”

“Oh, it seems I’m going to be touching my new bride a lot...” Negan was enjoying this, that much was obvious, his hand was back on your butt, and you summoned all your willpower to not slap him, before he looked at you. “Okay, darling. We got a deal.” Despite the situation, despite what you were walking yourself into, you were so relieved at those words that you could cry. “Get him into the truck,” he told to the saviors who were holding Daryl, and they lifted him from the ground, trying to drag him and hitting a rifle into his stomach when he kept growling and struggling.

You looked at Negan at that, stopping your impulse of throwing yourself at the Saviors who were hurting Daryl. “What?! I’m marrying you! We have a deal!”

“Yes, sweetheart, we have.” Negan grinned at you. “You marry me, I don’t kill him, but he’s coming with us to the Sanctuary, his cage is waiting for him.”

“No! You-”

“You rather have me killing him right here, right now?” Negan threatened, pointing his bat to Daryl, and you shook your head quick. “Then he’s coming back to the Sanctuary, and I promise you, dear bride, I won’t kill him.”

You hated that Daryl was going back to that damn place, but it didn’t seem like you could get anything better, and you couldn’t let Negan kill him, so you nodded. “You won’t torture him. That’s part of the deal.”

“A little demanding, aren’t you?” Negan told you, sounding amused, before he turned his smug grin to Daryl. “Is she like this in bed, too?” Daryl growled, struggling against the Saviors that held him, and he was hit again, to the face this time, and you winced, fighting against every fiber in your body that urged you to go help him. “I guess I’ll find out soon…I’m gonna be fucking your girl this night.”

Negan chuckled and Daryl struggled again, even if he looked defeated, his nose bleeding, and when his wet eyes looked at you, you almost break down. “Y/N. Don’t do this.”

“Don’t worry, Daryl.” Negan wrapped an arm around you and you almost shoved him out of instinct. “I’m going to be taking such good care of her.” Daryl struggled again, growling and yelling, only to be hit again and dragged towards a truck, and you tried your best not to cry, hoping that it would be the last time that Saviors hurt him, if Negan kept his part of the deal.

“Alright, darling…” Negan addressed you again, but he was looking at your people, not at you. “Nobody dies. But Daryl is not the only one we are taking with us.” You didn’t say anything, it didn’t feel like you could do much else, and you hoped that being taken into the Sanctuary would be better than being dead…

“Those two backstabbing assholes.” Negan waved his bat towards Eugine and Dwight, and then to the truck. “Load them up…you’re gonna regret this.” Then, Negan crouched down in front of Rick, grabbing his chin and digging his fingers in his cheeks, making him look at him.

“Rick, listen to me, listen, okay?” He made Rick nod. “You’re coming with us, and you and I? We are going to have so much fun.”

“You can’t torture him, that’s part of the deal!” You rushed to say. “Not killing, not torturing!”

Negan looked at you without letting go of Rick. “I wonder if I’m going to regret marrying you soon…” You didn’t know if that was a threat or not, but he went back to look at Rick, turning his head to make him look at Michonne.

“I’m leaving your woman here, okay, Rick?” He made him nod again. “So she can be in charge of Alexandria and make sure everything is going nice and smooth, and if any of you cross me again, if anyone gives any trouble, I’ll cut something off Rick and deliver it to you,” Negan told to Michonne, smiling in that menacing way. “Starting with his cock in case you’ll be missing it. Got it?”

Michonne nodded curtly and Negan smiled before waving at his Saviors, who tied Rick’s arms like they had done to the others and dragged him to the truck, while Negan walked your people’s line up and down again.

“You…” He pointed his bat at Maggie. “You’re pregnant…and I think that could become much of a fuss, you're staying…unless…” Negan grinned and you didn’t like it. “Unless you’re looking for a new baby daddy?”

You wanted to kill Negan at that, and for sure, Maggie wanted to. You had seen her angry and murderous before, but nothing like that. She growled, trying to get up and go for Negan, but Michonne was fast, reaching for her, making her kneel again, holding her and struggling to keep her in place.

Negan didn’t do anything, though, just turned to look at you, seeming amused, and he seemed to wait for you to snap again, as if trying to get a reaction out of you, but you didn’t, and so he kept walking, stopping in front of Carol and Ezekiel, studying them. “You.” He pointed the bat at Ezekiel. “I want you to meet my kingdom now.” Negan chuckled and Ezekiel just nodded while the Saviors tied his arms and made them get up. You weren’t sure if Carol was going to do something, but Jerry reached out to hold her arm, and she stayed silent and unmoving.

“You.” Negan stopped in front of Aaron and you couldn’t help yourself.

“No, not him! He has a baby to take care of…please?” You tried, Negan seemed to like it when you begged, and so he nodded.

“Alright…wedding gift…” He chuckled before pointing his back to Rosita. “You…unless you want to marry me too, sweetheart? I saw the way you were looking at me in Alexandria once.” Negan grinned, winking, and Rosita stayed silent. “No? Okay…load her up…also, you.” He pointed the bat at Gabriel this time. “You and I aren’t done speaking, Gabby…and I’m gonna need more absolution.” He chuckled.

Once the Saviors had dragged Rosita and Gabriel to the truck, Negan kept walking around your people, twirling his bat. “I know that you all have at least a doctor with you…Come out, come out, wherever you are…” Siddiq got up at that and Negan grinned menancly at him. “You work for me now, got it?” He asked, and Siddiq nodded in silence. “Good boy, come on, get yourself in one of those trucks.”

Once Siddiq had been scorted to another truck, Negan looked at everyone else again.

“Okay…okay, I think that’s enough for now…Now I want you all to bury all these people that you got killed, and you go back to work, getting stuff for me, and you all better fucking behave for now on, are we clear? Or not even…what was your name, darling?” He turned to look at you again.

“Y/N.”

“Or not even Y/N’s sweet piece of ass is going to stop me from sending you parts of the people that I have in that van.” He waved the bat towards it. “And coming back for more. Got it? I want you all to say: yes, Negan, now.”

“Yes, Negan.” There was a chore of angry, defeated, mournful voices, and Negan’s smug smile was back on his face. You resisted the urge to scoff, he really got off to this.

“I’ll see you all next week, starting with Alexandria.” Negan looked at Michonne, who didn’t say anything, before turning to you, reaching out his hand. “Come on, sweetheart, you’re riding with me in my car. Time to become one of my awesome, awesome wives.”

Everything seemed to move faster from then, or maybe you just were feeling dazed, but soon you were sat down in Negan’s car, anxious, scared about the people that you had left behind, scared about the people inside the van that was following Negan’s car…your people, your family, your Daryl…you hoped that this would work, that they would be safe if you married Negan, or at least alive and not tortured…you knew that they didn’t want to be prisoners at the Sanctuary and that the others didn’t want to work for Negan either, but it was better than being dead.

You hoped so bad that this would work…

Negan was glancing at you all the time and it was making you more nervous. When you finally looked at him, he gave you that smug smile, looking you up and down. “I can’t wait to see what’s under all that dirt, sweat, blood, and baggy clothes.” He chuckled and you scoffed, looking away from him again. “You’re going to love the Sanctuary.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed again. “Sure I will.”

It didn’t matter if you hated it, though, or how it would be your life there, what mattered was that your family would be okay, that Daryl would be as safe as you could get him, and to get that, you knew you’d endure anything.

Once at the Sanctuary, you watched anxiously as your friends were unloaded from the truck. Everyone seemed to know that there was no point in fighting, they’d get killed and there might be potential retaliation on the others, and so they let the saviors lead them inside the Sanctuary without any struggle…all besides Daryl. He began struggling as soon as he was dragged out of the truck, cursing and trying to shake the saviors off him, until he was hit again.

“We wouldn’t, if he stopped making a scene,” Negan said before you could say anything about that.

Daryl kept struggling nonetheless, his eyes looking for you, until he found you. “Please,” you mouthed silently, looking at him, begging him to not make this more difficult, to not end up more hurt, while your eyes filled with tears. “Please.” Daryl looked at you, struggling again, but he seemed defeated, and you hated that look on him, but it was for the best, and finally, he was dragged away with the others.

“Well, well…this…” Negan waved between you and him, seeming amused. “Might end up killing your bitch Daryl after all.”

You could have punched him, it was a dart to your heart, but you tried your best to stay in line. “Yeah, well…” You muttered. “A bat to the head will kill him for sure, so I’ll take the chance with this.”

Negan didn’t say anything, just chuckled, tugging you with him into the Sanctuary. You had to stand yet another of those damn speeches of him to everyone in the Sanctuary, perched up on top of the staircase, and then he led you through the Sanctuary and to the part that was reserved for him and his wives.

Negan opened a door that was guarded by two saviors, and as you walked inside, you found yourself in a big room, decorated with what looked like expensive, luxurious furniture, a tv, bowls of fruit, fake plants and flowers over the tables, and a bar on a corner. It seemed so out of place in this new world and in this shit place, that you had the same surreal feeling as you had the first time that you walked into what would become your house in Alexandria.

Several women were sitting down on the couches, some talking, some going through magazines and books, but all eyes went to Negan and you as the door opened.

It seemed like Negan didn’t have a single type of women, or that he married anything that allowed it. There were two blondes, one younger than the other, the older one looking at you suspiciously, same than a redhead, a black woman who looked at you with more kindness, a brunette whose pretty hair was pinned into an intricate bun, and another brunette with tanned skin and dark eyes that darted from Negan to you. All of them were wearing black, short dresses in different sizes and models, and their makeup and hair were put together as if it weren’t the end of the world, a stark contrast with how you were looking.

“Hi, ladies, daddy is home.” Negan grinned and you fought the urge to roll your eyes at him.

“Hi, Negan,” they all greeted, stopping whatever they had been doing…he trained them well, you guessed.

“Look what I brought, a new friend for you all and a new wife all for me,” Negan grinned, pushing you in front of him. “This is Y/N and…look at this! We lost Sherry but now with Y/N I got to have seven wives again, one for each day of the week!”

Some of the women said nothing, a couple gave him tense smiles, one tried to giggle awkwardly, and you couldn’t help your snort and the roll of your eyes. He was such a prick and an idiot.

“Something to say, dear?” Negan looked at you with that menacing smile and you shook your head. “Okay, ladies, I want you all to be good girls and show Y/N the ropes. I need to take care of some things first, but when I’m back, I want Y/N cleaned up nice for us to…consume the marriage.” He chuckled and you began to take conscience of what was going to happen and what you had agreed to be. The women nodded in silence and Negan turned to look at you. “I’ll see you soon, dear wife.”

Suddenly, his lips were on yours, and you almost shoved him away, shocked, but managed to stop yourself. Still, when Negan pulled away, he seemed amused, giving you a teasing look as if he knew what was going through your mind. Negan didn’t say anything else, walking out of the room and closing the door behind him.

It’s the first time I post something that I haven’t finished, as you know, 10C killed my writing Daryl mood, can’t barely think on him anymore (therefore, this is not as curated and edited as my other fics because I didn’t re-read that much), so I even though I have several chapters of this writen, I can’t promise what I’ll do with it.

As always, comments and reblos are more than welcome, and excuse my English, is not my first language.

Please, let me know if you want to be removed (or added) to the taglist.

@momc95 @jodiereedus22 @osweetdevilo @sapphire1727 @coffeebooksandfandom @crustyrose @daddys-little-princess67 @sesshomaru-lover @crossbowking @coltcas @gruffle1 @cutiepiemimi13 @drina365 @daeshaunex2 @twdeadlysins @stressed-lasagna @yenne-yen-illustrations @mychemicalimagines @paybackbarnes-blog @haleypearce @dotslabyrinth @superflannel @blckbuttler @linktheloveabledork @sourwolf-sterek32 @iminlokisarmysofi @traveleraroundsworld @deliciousassafrasssandwich @angelontheinside @firehoopinmama @d0ntfitin @lxdyred @a-dlv @marie-is-in-the-dark @lonewolf471 @wnygirl2012 @j-ma26-rb @gabidarkage @hopplessdreamer @of-storms-and-sadness @million-dollar-milkshake @daryldixonandfrogs @easnuppa @aisling-beatha @theunofficialduke @toxic-ink @fand0m-fiend @theonlyone-meeeee @nickangel13 @summerluciddreams @fanfictionsilove @ly-canthropewrites @imaginecrushes @allthingzhiddleston @txladyj-blog @my-current-fandom-is @womanup22 @lilred91 @imdixonsangel @okay-rm @nohemi2500 @aryaarathornson @sapphire-angel @frenziedreadingwriter @collecting-stories @mblaqgi @avengerswonderland @cutelittlethingsworld-blog @lokilover-39 @buzzybhee @alienemilyyyy @princessxpunk @cathwritestragediesnotsins @hells-mistress @justyouraveragefangirl1967 @carnationworld @vic-celeste @mrsfortune1306 @smiithys @polkadottedpillowcase @pastanest @heyyy-hey-babyyy @elisdays @mysterious-398 @captainbuckyboobear @annabethgranger123 @pancakefancake @watchmeaspire @bunnymother93 @dazzledamazon @trulysuccubus @storybookhall @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @spidergirla5 @lilythemadqueen @lightning-butterfly @purplebtsmagic @barra-cudaaa @courtnytrash04 @amazingapricot @your-new-mom @seizethesam @harpersmariano @eternalslingshot @fuseburner @chickenparmandstoicvulcans @mrsfortune1306 @ohmyolympusssy @10minutesofscreentime @sup3r-d0rk @phoenixblack89 @boywivlove @amaroho @woundmetender @classyunknownlover @masterninjacow @tenderlyunlikelyexpert @shadowfoxey @kaitieskidmore1 @lilac-day-dreaming @datidixon @sabrinabernal @nj01 @rachelxwayne @elamy17 @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @angelofthorr @thanossexual @daryldixonstorm @sttrawberries @huffledor-able541 @lucillethings @browneyes528 @soraitmnt @thereshallbenoother @chickenparmandstoicvulcans @leej2468 @soraitmnt @heartlessmarvello @itsmeempar @redneckstrash @bxxbxy @bitchynicole @pulplorrd @supernatural79impala

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon/reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon fanfic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon twd

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shirophantomvox · 3 years

Text

First Date with Chrollo (Human Diary)

Hello everyone! I am back with another “First Date” post featuring the Prince of Darkness. This was an anon post but I can't find the ask anywhere! I have been watching JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures lately and it is a very interesting show. Dio turned into a zombie and he’s so mean to Joseph. Anyway, let’s get into the post. The end is a bit angst-y but I did that to take a slight turn from all Fluff. I hope you enjoy! Part 2 coming sometime this week.m

It is common knowledge that Chrollo loves to read many books. When he was a child, he had time to read and that provided a great source of comfort. Although he seems to be ruthless, every human has the ability to seek compatibility and compassion. Both Hisoka and Chrollo enjoy the romance genre except Hisoka prefers to watch movies while Chrollo loves to read stories. You've known Chrollo since elementary school. You were fortunate enough to be able to move out of Meteor City and attend a better elementary school. As a child, you were an outcast and made few friends but on occasion, Chrollo would see you at a local arcade. Of course, your mother paid for the both of you to have fun but once it was over, it broke your heart because you knew about the conditions he’d return to once he left.

As time went on, you entered college and decided to invite Chrollo on campus so he could be something like a driving force for future success. You’ve been accepted into Yorknew University planning on majoring in Computer Science with a minor in Digital Art. Reaching Chrollo posed a challenge. He never responded to a few messages but on the third try, he answered with an excited response.

“Please forgive me y/n for not responding soon enough. I am more than happy to visit you. I am proud of you and your accomplishments. I do not see myself as a college man but, hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it right? I’ll be in touch.”

-Chrollo

At exactly 7 PM on a calm Fall night, standing outside of the campus’ most prominent book store, you began to sweat and your makeup began to drip. Just as you were about to wipe it off, you heard a voice call your name.

“Y/n? Is that you?” He chuckled as he questioned your appearance.

Turning around, you jumped a little at the sight before you. This wasn’t the same Chrollo you remember, of course. He had grown several feet, his face was much sharper, his arms were much bigger, had a bandana tied on his forehead, and he had a few rings on. He was dressed in a white polo shirt, black pressed slacks and black dress shoes. It’s weird. It felt like an arrow was shot through your heart.

“Are you ok? You act as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine! I’m just---You--look…”

“Ah, I see. There’s no need to be flustered. I am the same as when we were kids.”

The Yorknew Sailor Store was designed something exactly like a Barnes and Noble except the walls were painted to match the school’s colors.

The bookstore had a perfectly designed Starbucks, with a wooden finish, black and brown metal tables, beige tile floor, and glass doors.

Chrollo immediately noticed the change in behavior, one he wasn’t used to.

The students were snooty according to him and reminded him of how the city council would act towards him, his family, and those who were like him.

First, you offered to buy him a drink. The good thing about Chrollo is that if you or anyone else offers to buy something, He will not reject it. There is no such thing as having too much pride regarding him.

“Do you drink coffee?”

“Of course I do,” he replied. “But I don’t think I’ve had any of these drinks. A Caramel Macchiato? That sounds good.”

“Order it then! That will give you just the right amount of energy for today’s reading!”

To you, this was just two friends reuniting with each other but something else told you that Chrollo thought it was something more. He only dressed up like this if he was going out with someone special and even then it wasn’t an expensive Polo Short, It was his best t-shirt and jeans.

It boggles your mind how Chrollo acquired his expensive clothing but maybe he obtained a great job and is able to make a living for himself.

“I’d like to order a Caramel Macchiato.”

“What’s the name for this drink?”

“Chrollo,” you responded.

“And for you?”

“I would like a caramel Frappuccino with soy milk and no whip cream.”

“Alright. That’ll be $15.00.”

Chrollo glanced at you wide-eyed.

“It’s ok. I got it.”

You take out your card to pay and as you move out of line you bend over to whisper in his ear. “Maybe you can pay for dinner though.”

He laughed and smiled. “Of course, y/n.”

The bookstore was full of comfortable furniture ranging from light blue, dark blue, white in the lounge area. Both of you decided to sit across from each other on the blue chairs that swallowed you both as you sat.

As he read, he’d point out any interesting points in the book. He got tired of yelling across the table, so he decided to share a chair with you. He could feel the heat radiating from your body.

It was almost obvious that you all were involuntarily flirting with each other. The school was full of couples but occasionally seeing the goofy couple was the highlight of everyone’s day.

“This man was so devoted to a woman that does not know that he exists.”

“Sounds pointless,” you say, still trying to read your book.

“Well, she knows he exists but she is ignoring him and making him look like a fool in front of everyone. He says that there is something about her that he has never seen in any woman.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s her eyes, smile, intelligence, the shape of her lips, and her perfume powder aroma. Those are things that drive men wild.”

You smiled and laughed but came to a quick halt when you felt something along the ridge of your neck made you still. The hair on your neck stood up still as the invading force came in contact with your skin. It was Chrollo grazing his nose against your skin, slightly sniffing in your aroma; slowly breathing in and out.

Closing your eyes couldn’t make your sudden arousal fade. At this point, nearly everybody was looking at you both and looked away. This behavior was innocent for college culture, but it was taken as a cute gesture rather than naughty.

You blush. It was quite surprising that your childhood friend viewed you as something of the sort. It was both flattering and scary.

There’s no denying that Chrollo is handsome but if you dated him and the relationship didn't last, it could ruin your friendship.

At this point, Chrollo had his right arm resting lazily behind your back as his head and next aimed in a position that would allow his nose to lay carelessly on your neck.

“You smell delightful. I didn’t know you wore such expensive perfume. Is it….,” He sniffs again, “Flower Rose?”

“Yes! How did you know? Does your mother wear it?”

“She does now. I bought it for her a week ago and now the guys in the city can’t stay off her.”

Wow. The City. Even though it was a hell hole, it was your hell hole. How is everything? How is your mother? How did you manage to have such an expensive taste in clothing and fragrance?

Chrollo enjoys making others flustered. It's amusing to see them stutter when they’re either aroused or nervous.

On the flip side, seeing Chrollo flustered was the highlight of the century! The bad guys are used to being “bad” but expressing softer emotions makes it amazing and a reminder that they can experience them too.

Grabbing Chrollo’s left hand, you gently kiss it a few times and wink at him. He smiled, hiding his dumbfounded expression, and blushed slightly.

“I see you catch on quick.”

“I was raised in Meteor City. Just because I’m here doesn't mean I have forgotten where I come from. But I didn’t know you liked me.”

“You were the only one that trusted me and played with me when no one would.”

It felt like two magnets were pulling you closer. If he kissed you right here right now, you could just melt into a puddle but before anything happened, Chrollo’s phone rang loud and echoed throughout the bookstore.

Glancing at his phone, you saw an unknown number call, and judging from his actions he stood quickly to his feet.

“I’ll only be gone for a second.”

Hmm. That was odd. During this short intermission, you continue to read your book. Ironic enough, you weren’t into romance novels per se, you enjoyed action and comedy books!

Once Chrollo returned, his face was flushed and his soft demeanor had suddenly disappeared. He looked as if he was going to punch a wall.

“What’s wrong, Chrollo?”

He glanced at you with a somber smile, hoping to convince you that he was alright. “I am fine, y/n.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, if you count my mother being seriously injured, then yes.”

“Oh no! We can leave now, it’s fine.”

“No, it's ok. She wouldn’t want me to leave you all by yourself at this time of day.” He pointed to the night sky.

Wow! That was quick!

“What do you mean?”

“My mother predicted that I could end up with you...she also predicted that someone would be hurt or in danger if that prophecy was fulfilled. It’s sort of like give or take. In order to make someone happy, someone has to surrender their happiness and I guess it was her.”

A single tear dropped down his cheek and nothing more. He didn’t care if other men singled out his “weakness” because he’d destroy them all and he didn’t want y/n to know about his abilities until later.

The comfort of your warmth against his head provided more than comfort. He felt safe, welcomed, not judged, and vulnerable. He knew that you wouldn’t make him out to be a bad person but instead welcome him home with open arms. You were his human diary.

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hunterexamcheatsheet · 3 years

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Explaining how the Mafia functions, Kurapika in the mafia community and why the other “Neon died” theories don’t work from the Mafia Structure perspective

Please read this if you’re interested in how Kurapika in the mafia functions in the HxH world.

I went to roam around the Chinese forums using Kurapika and Neon's name (酷拉皮卡和妮翁; pronounced as Kù Lā Pí Kǎ and Nī Wēng) to try and find some KuraNeon content in the Chinese fandom.

I found a Chinese blog that also talks about the dolphin theory that @anotherworldash has thought of. You may use Google translate for the link above to read it. You may also view what @u-named had summarised here regarding the dolphin theory. I had reblogged it before but I got very excited when I saw that another fan had thought of it.

I’m so glad that other people from non-English fandoms had also thought of it (and not just the usual theories of Neon dying, but exploring other explanations why it’s possible for her to be still alive). I might be slightly biased, but I disliked how everyone just jumped into the assumption that she’s dead because her name disappeared from Chrollo’s book. From what I see, HxH deaths are often shown or at least heavily implied. We also got false narratives like the one with Kite in CA arc.

We do not see her dead body. Or any major hints of what happened to her.

What’s more, Kurapika implied that the previous owners where he had acquired the Scarlet Eyes from did not need to be killed. While this only means that Kurapika did not kill Neon, and it’s possible that other people might have killed her or she had died by accident/natural cause, it’s still something to think about.

The flaw in some of the “Neon’s dead” theories

I think u-named already discussed this a bit, but I’m going to elaborate it a little further. I am actually thinking of posting regarding the mafia theme, but that will take a while. I had been researching the functions of mafia in both reality and media, in order to understand what goes on in mafia families in HxH.

The theories regarding “Neon was killed by the mafia community”, “Light Nostrade killed her” and “she committed suicide” are possible, but I’m going to need to nitpick on the reasoning. I suspect people who formed these theories don’t know how the mafia works or at least, attempt to understand how it works (not that I’m an expert, I’m still trying to understand it from mafia movies, videos, a book and journal papers).

Of course there is a discrepancy between the actual mafia and what is depicted in media, but given that Togashi had mafia themes in his previous works like in Ten de Showaru Cupid and in Yu Yu Hakusho, and until now, he is using mafia families in his current arc.

“Oh, but what if Togashi doesn’t do his research?”

I genuinely think he does. York New City and the Ten Dons could be a parallel to the actual Five Powerful Mafia Families in New York City back then, formed in 1931. The Five Families is also what inspired the five mafia families in The Godfather. (I don’t know, maybe Togashi was a fan of The Godfather or any mafia movies; that trilogy was very influential in the media). Even the family name Nostrade is both a reference to Nostradamus (a French fortune teller) and La Cosa Nostra (a nickname for the Italian mafia). The coincidence is too uncanny.

From what I gather from resources, the mafia functions like an organisation/corporation, but their services are largely illegal. Their main aim is to acquire money (and also power, but power comes with money).

Neon’s fortune-telling ability is highly sought after because accurate information in many places (which includes being in businesses) are crucial. If you guys are familiar with The Godfather, information and strategy is important when trying to win over people or crushing your enemies. The concept of knowing your enemy is also a huge main idea in Sun Tzu’s The Art of War.

And it’s even more valuable when these information is from the future. You will always be one step ahead of the enemy if you have accurate information in regards to the future.

Now, there are people envious of Light’s climb to power because he exploited his daughter’s fortune-telling ability and they gained influence as she has fans among the Dons. They see Light’s acquiring of power as a threat, which is why Light protects his daughter.

Another reason (not really stated, I just thought of it) is that information from the future is a disadvantage when your enemy has it and you don’t. You already lose when the other side has information that you do not have.

By the end of the YorkNew City arc, we see that the Ten Dons are assassinated by Illumi. Therefore, there seems to be empty seats when it comes to the leadership of the mafia community. Not stated, but without leadership, a corporation/business will either crumble or someone else will assume leadership. Be it brutally or by succession of an heir, we’ll never know.

Neon’s ability is no longer on hers. Who is affected negatively? Light Nostrade because he just lost his way of influence and attaining money/power. His enemies, who are envious of his climbing up the ranks, will see it as an advantage. A blessing perhaps. Because the threat (which is Neon’s powers) are gone.

While murder among mafia members are not uncommon, killing one’s family member (especially one’s direct children) is irreversible and poses serious consequences. An all out war could evoke and it can be costly. Going back to my point about the mafia community’s main aim and how it functions as a business, negotiations are actually another way to deal with possible disputes. They do not need to do the killing because her powers are simply GONE. Without her powers, she’s just an ordinary “citizen” who is a family member of a father whose in the mafia community.

Therefore, “mafia community killed Neon” theory is flawed if you look at how the mafia community functions as businesses and negotiations. The reason why they decided to be brutal and aggressive in York New City is because they were up against the Phantom Troupe. Additionally, the lack of manpower and leadership that follows after their fiasco with the Phantom Troupe is another concern. A girl who no longer poses a threat is the least of their worries.

Now, onto the “Kurapika let them die off”, “Light killed Neon” and “she committed suicide” theories.

The reason why I have a problem with these is because it’s based on the big assumption that they became broke. Either Light Nostrade went crazy and he killed her; or they became broke and Neon couldn’t handle the stresses of being poor so she committed suicide. But the thing is, they aren’t broke.

Even on the Hunterpedia states:

The Nostrade Family survived the loss of Neon's ability and is now led by Kurapika. The organization is exclusively involved in legal activities such as personal security details and gambling.

This is backed by what Linssen has said to Mizaistom in the Dark Continent Expedition arc.

The reason why they survived the financial slump? Kurapika.

During the Greed Island arc, Kurapika reassured him that he’ll “take care of it”. And during the Dark Continent Expedition arc, we see that Kurapika’s title is “Nostrade Family Waka-gashira”. Waka-gashira means “Young Boss”. There are many mistranslations to this text where they state that he’s the mafia organisation leader, but in the hardcopy (which I have), the title is “Nostrade Family Boss”.

In the context of the Japanese yakuza, the Waka-gashira is the second in command, just below the Oyabun.

The second in the chain of command is the wakagashira, who governs several gangs in a region with the help of a fuku-honbucho who is himself responsible for several gangs.

While it seems that the inspiration of mafia is from the Italian-American mafia families in York New City, the terminologies they used is that of the Japanese yakuza. I think that this is because the original language is in Japanese.

In Italian-American mafia, the term “mafia organisation” is synonymous with “mafia family”. Therefore, if you say that a man is the mafia organisation leader, he is also by default the head of the mafia family.

In the context of Kurapika, it does make sense that he is the second-in-command and Light is the oyabun (if you go by the yakuza terminology), or Kurapika is the head of the Nostrade family (if you go by the Italian-American way).

Now, I’m just going to backtrack a bit because I want to address that theory that “Kurapika let Neon and/or Light die and overtook the Nostrade mafia organisation”.

If you go by the Yakuza terminology, it already doesn’t make sense because it implies that Light is still in charge, and Kurapika is the second-in-command (wakagashira). The Yakuza also assimilate members into the mafia organisation and “making your own family” (via trust).

If you go by the Italian-American way, it also doesn’t make sense if you look at the way they appoint the head of the mafia organisation. From what I read and seen in mafia movies, aside from mafia organisations functioning like a corporation, it functions like a family business, where typically, the head of the family is a male. This isn’t just exclusive to mafia families, but pretty much family businesses in [East] Asia. Togashi also depicts this male heir and family business dynamic within the Zoldyck Family.

While there are actual records of women leading mafia organisations, what is depicted in media is that the mafia community are often populated with men. This is also evident in the York New City arc, where the mafia community is filled with armed men.

Even among the Yakuza, it is like this:

The Yakuza is populated almost entirely by men and the very few women who are acknowledged are the wives of bosses

Light Nostrade only have one child, a daughter to be exact. While Morena Prudo is the boss of the Heil-Ly Mafia Family, this isn’t the actual case for Neon. Neon is a young girl who likes to shop and collects dead body parts. She enjoys luxury and materialism. She doesn’t have an interest in the mafia business or where the money comes from. Besides, as mentioned before, a male heir is often depicted.

In Japanese family businesses, when there is no male heir available, they will have to resort to mukoyoshi practice. Taken from Wikipedia:

When a family, especially one with a well established business, has no male heir but has an unwed daughter of a suitable age, she will marry the mukoyōshi, a man chosen especially for his ability to run the family business.

This is done to preserve the business and name of the family when there is no suitable male heir, since traditionally businesses are inherited by the oldest male heir. Mukoyōshi is also practiced if there is no capable male heir to run the family business.

This is a centuries-old tradition and is still widely practiced today. Many Japanese companies with household names such as Nintendo, Kikkoman, and Toyota have adopted this practice.

This is why I often liked the whole “Kurapika married Neon for the title” theory because it takes into a Japanese practice when it comes to family businesses + how the mafia family business are run into account.

We also have to note that Neon Nostrade’s character blueprint is Princess Luna from Level E. Princess Luna is betrothed to the main character, Prince Baka. Initially, Prince Baka did not want to marry her. Arranged marriages do not need to be founded by love or a relationship bond. In fact, arranged marriages are often agreed on because of practical reasons, such as a family business.

Princess Luna is also why I take the marriage theory more into account, rather than the idea that Ligth adopted him. Kurapika is considered as an adult (or nearly) anyway.

Side note: Whether or not you agree with this because it seems sexist or the possible sickening idea that Kurapika married a flesh collector, is irrelevant. Me being a KuraNeon shipper also does not make this theory hold any less weight. In fact, I started liking them together because of this theory. This is based on how [mafia] family businesses are depicted in the media, the mukoyoshi practice in Japan and Princess Luna being Neon’s character blueprint. Remember that theories are based on evidence, not based on how you feel. If anything, this gives more depth to Kurapika because it shows how far he’s willing to go through in order to gain power and money for his clan.

Regardless of how Kurapika had gotten this title, it is via assimilation. Not coercion or force.

It also doesn’t make sense if he were to function businesses under the Nostrade family name, if he disliked Light and Neon so much that he’d let them wither off. Why would he still keep their family name in honour if he had let them die off? The answer is getting the title via assimilation. Be it through trust or becoming a member of the family (literally or figuratively).

Neon being uninterested also meant that there is no one to challenge Kurapika for the title, and Kurapika had already reassured to Light that the business during Greed Island arc.

Therefore, the “Kurapika had let Light and Neon wither off to get the title” is flawed when you look at the way mafia organisations functions as a family business and Neon’s character.

Why the Nostrades aren’t broke

Linssen stating the Nostrade family gains its income from gambling and personal security detail businesses that the Nostrade family runs, thanks to Kurapika being the head of the family.

Aside from that, we also see Kurapika obtaining many sets of Scarlet Eyes, with him stating that there are various ways he had done so.

“I’ve threatened, coaxed and paid people off” - Kurapika (based on the hardcopy Volume 33 that I have)

During the York New City arc, one set of Scarlet Eyes are already worth like what, millions? Not only money, but Kurapika needs influence and connections to gain these Scarlet Eyes. Threatening and coaxing meant that you’ll need to invoke fear or drive them into situations where they are forced to surrender the Scarlet Eyes. How to do that? Creating dilemmas. Give the person two options, both that are undesirable, with the lesser evil option being the one you want.

Basically, giving an offer they can’t refuse (sorry, this reference was too good to pass up lmao).

This is why being part of the mafia, and more so being a mafia leader is an attractive pathway for Kurapika because it gives him the resources, in terms of influence, finance and aggressive force.

Another thing to note is that Kurapika has hired Izunavi, Melody, Basho and Bisky to apply for the Kakin Bodyguarding contract. It’s evident that Kurapika has the money. Therefore, the Nostrades aren’t broke.

Hence, the idea that Neon was killed because her father could not face financial difficulties or that she committed suicide because she’s no longer rich, falls flat when you consider Kurapika’s involvement with their family.

“But didn’t Linssen say that gambling and personal security are legal businesses and he told Mizaistom that they are not the crime syndicate? Why is it part of the mafia?”

Yes. You see, the mafia deals with LARGELY illegal businesses, but that doesn’t mean they don’t deal with the legal ones too. Perhaps the Nostrade family has been legitimised, but it wouldn’t be the case because Kurapika’s title still states “mafia”.

While these facts seem to contradict what Linssen claimed to Mizaistom that the Nostrade organisation is not a crime syndicate, it can be argued that Mizaistom is a Crime Hunter (aka like a detective). It makes sense for Linssen to tell a Crime Hunter that you are not a crook, and it’s easier to lie about it if your services in the mafia business is legal.

Also, in actual mafia businesses where gambling is involved, the place of the server where online gambling may be legal, but in the place where the people use the online gambling may be illegal.

Taken from 10 Businesses Supposedly Controlled by the Mafia:

But mobsters have adapted to the times and taken their act online. These days, they are more likely to be busted for online sports gambling. In 2008, a Queens district attorney charged the Gambino family with illegal sports and casino-style gambling operations. Players were allowed to borrow gambling money at 200 percent interest [source: Bonner]. More recently, members of the Genovese family in New Jersey were indicted for making millions of dollars each year through illegal gambling operations [source: Ivers].

In Europe, officials have raised concerns over the vast amounts of money being laundered by the Mafia through online gambling, particularly sites based in Germany, where there are no penalties for illegal gambling activities [source: Walther].

Personal security details kind of vague, but I believe it’s Protection Racket. I went to have a look at Wikipedia for a short while and found ties with the mafia:

A protection racket is a scheme where a potentially hazardous group guarantees protection from violence, looting, raiding, piracy, and other such threats posed by them outside the sanction of the law, to polities, businesses, individuals, or other entities and groups that pay to them in cash or kind.

Protection rackets tend to appear in markets in which the police and judiciary cannot be counted on to provide legal protection, because of incompetence (as in weak or failed states) or illegality (black markets).

Certain scholars, such as Diego Gambetta, classify criminal organizations engaged in protection racketeering as "mafia", as the racket is popular with both the Sicilian Mafia and Italian-American Mafia.

While this “personal security details” the Nostrade family business provides, the stuff that involves in it may be illegal.

We don’t really know why Kurapika resorted to these two types of businesses. I have two guesses: 1) He wants to compensate and retain his moral values, therefore he opts for legal businesses, 2) He wants to have a loophole in being in the mafia yet avoiding legal troubles. Either way, it’s a smart move for Kurapika in my opinion.

Side note: With Togashi liking mafia themes so much, I truly believe that it’s a hard opportunity for him to pass up the idea of making one of his main characters a mafia leader. We get to have our own Michael Corleone, and that’s hot. (Simping hard for mafia boss Kurapika right now).

What about the Kakin Bodyguard thing? And the fact that Kurapika’s a Zodiac now? Does this mean he’s no longer the Nostrade Family Boss?

He is still the Nostrade family boss. These three are not mutually exclusive.

In the manga panel where they showed his title, it was slightly after the Zodiacs meeting. Therefore, he still retains his title as the Nostrade Boss. Being part of the Zodiac is a position within the Hunters Assocation, they are the counsellors to the Chairman. Just as when Kurapika is a hunter and the Nostrade Boss at the same time, he can also be a Zodiac and the Nostrade Boss.

The Kakin Bodyguard thing is like an employment contract. As mentioned, Kurapika hired a few people to apply for being a bodyguard because six Kakin Princes were looking for bodyguards to get close to the 4th Prince Tserriednich. You can actually see this as a link to his “Protection Racket” mafia business. Being a Kakin bodyguard is a type of Protection Racket. Therefore, he can still be a Kakin bodyguard while holding onto the mafia title.

Kurapika doesn’t need to be in the mainland overseeing everything in the business, in fact, it’s kind of noteworthy that Linssen was not on board - it is definitely possible that he had left the other parts of the mafia business to a second-in-command (a consigliere, shategashira, or the saiko-komon). He may also leave the businesses back to Light Nostrade.

Okay, what if Neon committed suicide because she couldn’t take how she’s being mistreated, rather than her being broke?

That could be possible, but we don’t really have a clear hint of that. Yes, I can see some potential daddy issues because she’s no longer of use to her father and also the possibility that Light favours Kurapika more now and maybe even sold her off to Kurapika, but I don’t find any strong evidence of that. And we don’t actually exactly know how Kurapika will act around her now that he seems to have more power than her. In fact, we don’t really have any insights as to what Kurapika thinks of her, only sweeping statements when it comes to flesh collectors which may or may not apply to her.

(I know people assume that he hates her, because they like to infer his prejudice on flesh collectors to her, but we really have ZERO clear indication of what he thinks about her specifically. To say that he definitely hates her is inaccurate. I literally just argued with someone on Youtube comments for this. And even if he did hate her, that’s hot if she’s his wife because hate-sex is wow.)

To Conclude:

The theories surrounding Neon Nostrade being dead falls flat when you look deeper into how the mafia functions. I have also explained more in detail at a possibility of how Kurapika might function in the mafia community and as the Nostrade family leader.

Other sources aside from above (so that ya’all know I don’t pull this out of my ass):

New York Mafia Families

What does the mafia even do anymore?

How to Make an Offer they can’t refuse like Vito Corleone

The Godfather by Mario Putzo [film/fictional book - watched Part 1 and 2]

Five Families: The Rise, Decline, and Resurgence of America's Most Powerful Mafia Empires By Selwyn Raab [book - only read a bit]

When culture matters: succession challenges for Asian business families

Behind the Yakuza: documenting the women of Japan’s mafia

How Japan’s family businesses use sons-in-law to bring in new blood

Pretty much the whole of Hunterpedia LMAO.

I only wanted to post the Chinese blog but ended up a huge full-on essay about the mafia in HxH HAHHAA. (Because I’m so sick of people talking about theories without taking the mafia structure into consideration).

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mallowstep · 2 years

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honestly hard agree w your tags on the queerhollyleaf post. like. i'm not necessarily proship! i'm not necessarily anti! i personally think it's a topic that can't be narrowed down to yes or no and uhhh a lot of the fandom just doesn't seem to understand that. it's like you (the general you) see one word and the part of your brain that controls complex thought goes dark

okay! i tried to write an answer by myself earlier and it wasn't working so now we're both going to do it. everyone say hi mari. mari says hi everyone. for those of u who don't follow us on main: we = matthew-and-mari, i = matthew, and "m: ..." = mari. not that that's TERRIBLY significant, but so you know.

also for context, my tags were:

✨✨✨unless it’s not proship in the sense that I refuse to label ‘being a reasonable person’but that might just be mexd

sorry that copied kinda weird.

okay so anyway.

we're going to only be discussing fannish media because that's the main focus of this blog. other topics can be forwarded to @fencesandfrogs yadda yadda yadda. we're all here for the fic, aren't we?

m: i do not write fanfiction i am here solely for making sure matthew doesn't go off topic again

right. anyway.

we definitely feel that the conversation can fixate so much on this false axis it can even become harmful. we firmly believe many antis are only antis because of social pressure and a lack of understanding of the proship opinion. we also don't feel the proship position is really wrong. "do not harass people, and tag work responsibly," is our position and it is the proship position, as we understand matters.

that said, there's so much misinformation about what it means to be proship that (a) i don't feel super comfortable identifying as proship (influenced by bad actors as well) and (b) saying you're proship activates this hard wall in a lot of people's minds. we saw people's opinions change while they were following us, but as soon as we explicitly said we weren't an anti, those people unfollowed us. they're within their rights to do so, ofc, and we don't follow up with them, because that would be stalking and weird, but the point is, it's like a magic word.

i don't run this blog to change people's minds. ship discourse has ALWAYS been toxic, as long as we've been on the internet. before it was the modern incarnation of pro/anti-ship, it was voltron bullshit (for us --- not being able to partake in fandom because of the toxicity is actually why we stepped away from fandom for several years), and before that, it was something else. nonsense internet discourse isn't new.

but this is a particular flavour of nonsense that we are frustrated by. five-or-so years ago, our opinion was the default, neutral position. people understood that you tagged content appropriately, that you didn't put nsfw of work aimed at children in the main tags, and that was it. you didn't tag nsfw for mlp as mlp, and you put a content warning up, and that was that. yes there's nuance here, we're not going into all of it.

m: matthew's wrists WILL regret it also we said most of this in the post about abusive rare pairs

so we feel like we shouldn't have to label that.

also, not labelling ourselves means people can't assume our positions. for example, when i'm not trying to be problematic to either (a) piss someone off/out of spite/etc or (b) explore themes, i usually choose to write out problematic content. the example i like to use is that if i want to write moth/misty, then in that fic, misty was never moth's mentor. i might not say/explain it, but it's true. because apprentice/mentor makes me really uncomfortable. so they just never have that relationship.

uh. mari is reminding me that antis usually don't support writing shit out and ALSO that's not even an opinion.

right.

what we mean is, people have a lot of Ideas about what it is to be proship. we don't see ourselves as proship to begin with (see: our opinion is the opinion the average person on the street would have, trust us, we've asked), and we don't want people to make assumptions about our opinions based on that.

at the end of the day, we don't like using pro/anti ship as terms. for clarity, we will use them, but we prefer to think of the average fandom member as a reasonable person, and call antis puritans.

because that's what they are.

we want to restate that our opinions on published media are a lot more complicated and nuanced (and we also think that's another thing this discourse often misses: fanworks and published media are not the same), just because it feels disingenuous to NOT make a point of that. we don't really care if someone is writing fanfic smut that glorifies abuse: we do care if a book is published that glorifies abuse.

anyway.

we're going to leave it there, but basically, yeah. pro/anti discourse is a really ugly flavour of internet nonsense discourse that not only do we have no desire to be in, but fundamentally do not understand.

m: no this is true. regularly we will see something and not understand how someone could hold that belief/opinion/etc. like, matthew finds these posts and we look at them and can't make sense of them. neither of us can remember an example, but yeah.

so, yeah. we feel you hard.

#mine #ask #anon #discourse #the matthew experience #<- do i foresee this tag being used very often?#no #but #now it Exists #we do not call ourselves that btw we call ourselves matthew #but we understand matthew made of matthew-and-mari can be confusing #for others #so the matthew experience is a term that refers to the both of us #please don't address us with it tho

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onceupona-chaos · 3 years

Text

The Storm

Notes: So, I did something. Maybe there will be a part II, but I wanted to post this one first and now I can only hope whoever read this, might enjoy it. Also, forgive for any mistakes, English is not my first language, but I wanted to try something knew and practice a little.

Warnings: language, self-harm and slightly NSFW.

Enjoy! 😊

Elain was trying hard to pretend she wasn't picking a fight with a bush after spending the entire afternoon working in a elderly faery's garden. She didn't know how old Arya was and didn't ask either. Despite the wrinkled face that made her expression look grave at first sight, Arya was gentle enough to bring a fresh lemonade cup every few minutes. Even if Elain hadn't finished hers, it would be replaced by a full cup with two ice cubes and the right amount of sugar - and a warm smile from Arya.

So when she had sent word asking if her garden could be fixed, Elain gladly embraced the distraction, even though it didn't seem to be a particular good day for gardening, if the cloudy sky was any indication.

Kneeling on the dirt, she had been digging and pulling for hours now as she tried to get rid of the ivys surrounding the beautiful blooming roses.

Usually her gardening was a pretty distraction - her mind would focus entirely on what she was doing, her hands moving on their own accords, until every single thought that made her throat tighten was nothing but mist in the distance.

But lately something's changed.

Hateful thoughts, old anguishes, almost familiar as any part of her body, and new ones found themselves in her mind, making her remember what she longed to forget. She didn't bother to wear gloves, wanted the feeling of rough rocks and sharp thorns against her skin. Wanted to focus on the physical pain, to be as far away from her own mind as possible.

And yet it wasn't enough to keep those too many thoughts, cravings and needs at bay.

Her frustration grew with each passing second, her work getting sloppy when a thunder filled her ears.

It was definitely not a good day for gardening.

Elain couldn't decide what was worse: that her work no longer pushed her thoughts away or that she was literally fighting a stubborn rose bush, pulling a branch out with both hands and groaning a curse that would make Cassian proud.

Elain pulled and pulled, the branch slowly, Gods, so slowly giving up - and then it broke in half, leaving the part covered in thorns still buried deep in the ground. She didn't hesitate though, just wiped the sweat off of her forehead, grabbed the branch, thorns and all biting her skin, and started again.

When Arya came back once again, the lemonade cup hit the ground.

She looked at Elain, taking in the blood staining her cobalt dress, big red drops running down her hands. "It's nothing to be worried about, it's already healing."

It wasn't a lie. But Arya still insisted that Elain went home, claiming that a beautiful lady like her shouldn't remain covered in blood and sweat. A scream caught in Elain's throat that bagged for a few more minutes of distraction, just a few more. But she knew Arya was thinking about her well being, so she made a gentle smile bloom on her face and thanked her for the limonade.

"Hurry up now or you're going to get caught in the storm."

Indeed, Elain could already smell the rain, the air charged with electricity, the wind colder than usual, the promise of thunder and lighting.

Yet her steps were lingered, heavy as she walked by the vibrants streets of Velaris

When the first drops came… she tilted her head and let them pour over her, only wishing it could wash away every burden in her heart.

It didn't take long for the cold rain to soak her, making her own bones shivered. A walk back to the lake house would took long enough to make her catch a cold and since being stuck in a bed was the last thing she needed, Elain made her way to the town house. It was still empty, but at least she could warm up and wait for the rain to pass by.

Elain had just crossed the front door and immediately sighed as she felt the cozy warmth. She was freeing her hair from the braid, combing it with her fingers, taking in the sitting room of the empty house - and froze. Because that was a very, very light fireplace. She only had time to take a step back when the scent of mist and cedar hit her nose.

_______________

After a long visit to the eyes and ears under his command, one would think Azriel would take a warm bath and go for several hours of sleep to put away the feeling of the cold rain against his wings that had chased him for miles and miles.

He could have winnow into shadows. But he hoped the exhaustion of flying through the storm combined with a hot bath to relax his sore muscles would help his body to give in to some poor, few hours of sleep.

Azriel had just gone out of the bath, his hair still damp, when he heard the front door shutting. A shadow curled around his ear, registering someone's presence, and he made his steps quiet as death, aiming for the sitting room.

He hadn't seen Elain alone since Solstice and even at the few dinners on the river house he still tried to attend, Azriel could barely look her in the eyes, the memory of her pain too much for him to handle.

But there she was.

She was staring at him, wild-eyed, soaked to the bones. He allowed himself to drink the sight of her, let his eyes travel slowly through her face. Usually, in those dinners, he would hardly steal a glimpse in her direction - well aware of Rhysand's eyes almost daring him to challenge his orders. But here, alone… It was exactly this kind of situation he tried so hard to avoid, knowing it would be the death of him.

Azriel's eyes dropped to her body, the wet fabric hanging to every curve, and spotted the dark red stain on her dress. He scanned her furiously, looking for injuries, stooping at her bloody hand. There were only a few drops, the rain must have washed the blood away - but it was enough to make him want to roar at the sight of it, the predatory instincts inside him ready to kill and kill and kill whoever was responsible. Before he could say anything though, Elain blurted, "I… I thought the house was empty."

Her voice was almost a whisper above the rain, but the words hit him with the force of a thunder. Azriel swallowed hard. He knew she wasn't looking for him. Not after Solstice. But the way she'd say it...

Without even thinking, he closed the distance between them. Elain lifted her chin to keep her gaze locked with his.

Even in a filthy, soaking dress, her damp hair grabbing to her neck, her bloody hand… She was so breathtakingly beautiful, so full of light.

He took her hand in his, so delicate between his scarred fingers. The soft skin marked with small scars, no doubt from her gardening. He turned her hand, exposing her palm and saw the multiple, small bruises. His calluses brushed hers as he asked, "What happened."

She was shaking slightly, not only from the cold rain, "Usual gardening."

He couldn't take it. It was some kind of cosmic joke to be in an empty house with her, so many words hanging between them. He wanted her to know them all, but some he didn't know how to say, and others he couldn't .

Azriel almost choked on his own pain. He stared at her, letting every feeling unsaid, his own longing and despair, rise to his eyes, unable to stop it as he whispered, "I'm sorry."

Her doe eyes flickered, and Azriel knew she saw beyond those words. She knew he wasn't talking about her bruised hand still in his, the only connection between their bodies.

And when Elain squeezed his fingers, he knew she understood him. Perhaps not everything, but enough.

Azriel didn't know for how long they stood there, watching each other, their hands still intertwined, the rain pouring outside, the sound of heavy drops hitting the roof interrupted only by the rumble of thunder. Without knowing who moved first, he realized his face was inches from hers, enough to share breath. Elain inclined her head and brushed his nose with hers, the gesture so tender.

A moment later, their mouths collided at last and everything else faded away.

Her mouth was soft against him, and the scent of jasmine, honey and rain filling his nose made his eyes roll back behind his eyelids.

Such a sweet kiss as if The Mother or whoever was wanted Azriel to just have a taste of what he couldn't have. Despite every cell in his body screaming at him, Azriel made to pull away, but Elain held him in place and brushed her tongue against his bottom lip. He moaned her name and yielded himself to her.

The kiss wasn't desperate or frantic as Azriel had imagined it would be for so fucking long. No, the kiss was slow and deep, like pouring honey. Their thongs danced with each other, stroking and caressing.

And her taste… like honey and spring sunrise. He couldn't get enough. He needed more, needed her printed in his very bones, until their souls intertwined.

He was breathing hard, one of her delicate hands wandered across his chest and arms, the skin beneath her fingers burning. Elain traced every muscle, every inch of tattoo ink, as if to reaffirm he was real, that he was there. She buried her other hand into his hair, pulling slightly, and Azriel let out a sound between a moan and a purr, barely audible above the rain.

The world faded away and there was only her, only her mouth, her scent, her body. He needed her closer, wanted to merge himself with her so they would never be parted.

Everything about that kiss was so sweet and so sensuous as if it was a song sent from heaven to lure him to the deepest of hells, where every sinful idea would take form. It was his paradise and ruin, and he was utterly, thoroughly hypnotized.

He'd lovers, many throughout the centuries. But he never felt so drowned, so lost and found at the same time. Nothing had ever felt so good, nothing. Azriel could only pray to the old gods that at least one part of him would be his at the end of it.

They continued that taunting dance, touching, exploring, seducing. Their tongues met stroke for stroke until Elain parted and sucked on his bottom lip, and any sane part of him ceased to exist.

Azriel groaned and his hands moved from her waist to find that generous, gorgeous backside of hers, squeezing possessively with both hands, making her moan into his mouth. Elain ondulated her hips, pressing herself against him, and gasped when she felt exactly how much she was affecting him. How much power she had over him. A small smile curved her lips and Azriel traced it with the tip of his tongue.

More more more

Azriel could feel her shaking in anticipation, smell her arousal in the air.

He was going to devourer her inch by inch. He was going to -

Elain suddenly pulled back just enough to look at him in the eyes, and Azriel almost fell on his knees. Sheer desire was printed on her face, those pink, perfect lips swollen, making his mouth watering. A blush stained her cheeks, and he wondered what other places he could make her blush. He needed to know them all.

But all of that was nothing compared to that look on her face. The honey-brown almost entirely gone, her eyes flashing with molten desire as if those black expanded pupils were windows to her soul and his particular way through.

Both of them were breathing each other's air. Elain stared and stared and stared at him as if she was undoing every single wall and shield he'd ever raised.

Azriel let her. Didn't need them with her anyway.

He cupped her face with his hand and brushed her cheek with his thumb, making her shiver. His eyes never left hers, and he could almost see a bridge of light and dark taking form between their souls, honey-brown and hazel in each end.

When his thumb moved to trace her bottom lip, Elain cupped his hands with hers, mouth parting slightly before she kissed the tip of his finger. Azriel didn't know who he was, where he was, because there was only her, only that female accepting every part of him.

Then Elain sucked his thumb into the wet heat of her mouth. Pure desire ran through his body like a lighting straight to his groin, and he had to brace his other hand on the wall to keep himself standing, to not fall on his knees.

Elain let go of his thumb, her eyes glimmering in a way he'd only dreamed about. She inclined her head, baring her throat, and Azriel knew he was in deep shit.

He couldn't help the sound that came out from somewhere deep inside of him, his nostrils flaring at the sight of her delicate, creamy skin covering her pulse point and totally exposed to him - and only him.

Offer and permission.

A thunder rumbled outside, but all Azriel could hear was his blood singing her name as he lowered his head and brushed his nose along the side of her neck, breathing greedily and letting her scent fill his nose, his lungs. Elain arched a little, asking for more.

Azriel then kissed her neck tenderly. Wanted to savor every second of it, every taste of her. Didn't want to rush this - not with her, not when he had the chance. He prayed that the storm would never end, wanted to take his time, worship every part of her body until one stroke at the right place would be all that would take to make her come. Hard.

He kissed the spot beneath her ear and where her neck met her shoulder. Elain's hand tightened, pulling his hair in silent command. Azriel bared his teeth, brushing his canines against her pulse point. He pressed lightly - just enough to make his teeth sink into her skin, claiming her.

Elain moaned louder at the sensation and tightened her hold on his hair - and pure male smugness washed over him. Because he was the one she bared her throat to. It was his mouth on hers, his hands covering her ass. He could already smell his scent on her, mist and jasmine, cedar and honey.

And it was his name she moaned.

"Azriel."

Before Azriel could unleashed himself, he first dropped to his knees.

#elriel #elriel fic #elriel fanfic #elain x azriel #my writing

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potteresque-ire · 3 years

Text

This post is Part 3 of the five-part meta series on the Zhang Zhehan (張哲瀚) Incident, based on what has transpired up to 2021/08/22.

1) The 2nd Sino-Japanese War (1937-45) & the Yasukuni Shrine 2) Post-War Sino-Japanese Relations; “Every Chinese should visit the Yasukuni Shrine” 3) The Summer of 2021: The Brewing Storms for One 4) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part A 5) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part B

3) The Summer of 2021: The Brewing Storms for One

Parts 1 and 2 are my very rough, … kindergartenish introduction to the historical background of Zhang’s incident. For the sake of brevity (please don’t laugh), there are so many things I haven’t touched on (such as the role of the U.S., the geopolitics). There are even more things I’ve likely missed from my admitted ignorance (Sorry).

I think a fair summary of what I’ve written so far would be as follows, before we move on to other sociopolitical factors related to Zhang’s incident?

It is true that the Japanese government, while having shown signs of repentance, has yet to truly face its own past.

It is also true that the Chinese government has been taking advantage of its national tragedy to fuel nationalistic sentiments, to spread hatred for the purpose of propaganda ...

... Propaganda that is highly sensitive to timing, the message the regime wants to send at the moment.

In August, 2021, Sino-Japanese relations is at a nadir. The brief thaw in early 2020, initiated by the Japanese government donating masks to Wuhan when COVID first broke out, seemed to be as old as the Chinese poem printed on the shipping boxes: 山川異域風月同天 (“Our mountains and rivers are on different lands, but our winds and moon share the same sky”)—from the 779 BCE work of a Tang dynasty monk who had sailed to Japan as a missionary, affirming the long cultural bond between the two nations. China would give masks back to Japan.

Fast forward eighteen months later, this good will is all but gone in Chinese news, on Chinese social media. The Japanese government had just vowed to join the United States to protect Taiwan, should the Chinese government furthers its military threat towards the island — the People’s Liberation Air Forces had already intruded Taiwan’s air defence zone 393 times between January 1st and August 17th of 2021 — or should the Chinese government attempts to take over the democratic island nation by force.

Late July came, and the Tokyo Olympics presented the opportunity for the Chinese state to broadcast anti-Japanese sentiments among the general populace.

Like USSR and the Eastern Bloc before, the Communists-ruled China saw the Olympics medal count as a matter of national pride. After the Games began, the hot search turned immediately from the Henan flood to stories of the Tokyo Games’ subjectively awful organisation, alleged cheatings by the Japanese athletes, and the perceived unfairness of, in particular, Japanese judges towards the Chinese team that cost the latter more and better medals. This fervour cumulated to the cyberbullying of Japanese athletes by high-on-nationalism Chinese netizens, who brought back Japan’s past as a reason why Japan and its people should be universally hated. Reminders of the horrific brutality of the Imperial Japanese Army eighty years before the Games surfaced in Chinese social media posts. The derogatory slangs 小日本 (“Little Japan”), and 鬼子 (Guizi “demons”), the latter harking back to the nickname of the Imperial Japanese Army during World War II, populated online Olympics discussions.

Japanese netizens are aware of the derogatory terms Chinese nationalistic netizens use against them. In 2010, they fought back the 小日本 and 鬼子 insults by designing cute anime characters for these names. (Source1, Source2).

August, 2021 is not a good time to be accused of liking the Japanese.

August, 2021 is not a good time to be accused of liking the Japanese, especially if the accused is a celebrity in the c-ent industry. The ongoing Clear and Bright Campaign (清朗行動) includes, as its 8th aim, the “regulation of stars and the organisations behind them, internet behaviour of their official fan clubs”. Possibly as a welcome to the summer vacation for the country’s youth, on June 15th, 2021, the Cyberspace Administration of China (CAC) had announced it would spend the next two months focused on rectifying the “chaos caused by fan circles” (‘飯圈’亂象).

The Kris Wu (吳亦凡) case that had exploded in July then turned the public’s attention (and imagination) squarely on c-ent and the alleged “insanity” of c-ent fandoms, particularly those of idols. Wu’s fans had been met with ridicule and cyberbullying, especially those who had tried to “save” their idol by attempting to perform, when the incident had first broken out, what is customary per Chinese fan circle culture—to drown the criticisms with their supportive messages, their defences of their favourite stars; with their offences towards the accusers and in some cases, who the fans point to as the true culprits accompanied by the necessary “evidences”. Widespread reports of Wu’s fans planning a prison break after Wu’s arrest, propagated by the state media despite the number of such fans could’ve numbered to no more than a handful, further fuelled the narrative that c-ent idol worship has become cult-like, with the fans being so brainwashed that they can no longer distinguish right or wrong.

This narrative of “fans would say or do anything to defend an idol” means that if or when accusations fall on the latter, little can be said in their defence even if the defence has its merits. Fans who make the defence are accused of being “brain-disabled” (腦殘); non-fans, of being brain-disabled fans in disguise.

Political cartoon from People’s Daily, 2021/08/02, 2 days after Kris Wu’s arrest (English translations by me). The slogan at the bottom says “The Deformed “Fan Circle Culture” has turned cold”. “Turning cold” (涼了) means to lose popularity. (Source)

Last but not least, in August 2021, the online platforms that host the content of state propaganda, of fandom talk, of c-idols’ works are also in quicksand themselves. Without getting into too much details, since earlier this year, the Chinese government has been targeting the tech giants, once considered untouchable with their significant contributions to the economy. Most international fans of c-ent are likely familiar with Tencent. Alibaba is also a major player in c-ent: it’s the owner of Youku, for example; it is also a major investor of Sina (the company in control of Weibo) and also—a piece of trivia for turtles—of Yuehua (Dd’s management company). These tech companies have been charged with antitrust violations, been the target of cybersecurity probes, accused by the state media of hurting China’s youth with “spiritual opium” in the form of video games etc, and their stock prices have been tumbling as a result.

The tech giants, and the online platforms under their ownership, have therefore been extra vigilant, extra compliant to messages from the state, in attempts to gain the government’s favour. Just a few days ago (2021/08/21), Tencent vowed to donate 7.7 billion USD to the government, heeding Xi’s call for “common prosperity” (re-distribution of wealth), adding to the 7.7 billion USD it already donated in April for the government’s “sustainable social values” program. While both donations are officially philanthropic, most political and market watchers interpret the donations as Tencent trying to achieve a less-than-philanthropic goal—to get the state regulators off its back.

Following this line of logic then, these tech giants, and their online platforms, have got to be extra quick on their feet in August 2021 to sever ties with anyone perceived to have drawn the displeasure of the government. If that anyone is a c-ent idol, the loss for removing their works and fandom content is nothing compared to the price these companies may pay if the eyes of the state regulators train upon them: the latest fine Alibaba paid for breaking the anti-monopoly law, in April, amounted to 2.8 billion USD.

All these factors considered, there are better days … far better days than the ones in August 2021, for a c-ent idol to have his Yasukuni Shrine visit become an item on Weibo’s hot search.

===

The Zhang Zhehan Incident Meta Series:

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 <- YOU ARE HERE PART 4 PART 5

#pie metas

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littlewitchwhore · 3 years

Text

Okay guys, here is the first short story I'm posting.

TW: Rape, murder, some gore, racism, sexism, homophobia, a critique of the southern US, and christian references.

I do not condone actual rape, murder, racism, sexism, homophobia, etc. This is just fantasy.

And now, I present

The Hunting of Sonya.

It had been three weeks since the executive order was given. Three weeks of running from abandoned shack to drainage pipe to thickets of trees where she might be safe. Three weeks of praying to whatever would listen that she not be found. Tonight, it seems her prayers might not be answered.

Whatever progress social justice and racial equality might have made in the past years has been violently set back. It started with feminist and pro-black movements constantly being undermined by themselves and their lack of cohesion. With no set leaders and ideas, no reliable code of conduct, and no unifying goals, the members had no direction for their justified anger to be aimed at, and nothing to hold them back from extreme measures. The first major riot happened a year ago, when several peaceful protesters were shot by a couple of trigger happy cops. They didn't stay peaceful.

In one of the most gruesome incidents in recent history, those two cops, and a few others with them, were overwhelmed and beaten to death. But the death of those cops was just the tip of the iceberg. Within a month, riots were taking place in every major city in America, with from people on both sides of the argument killing, and burning the homes and business of those they fought against. A civil war seemed inevitable. Then the election happened, as it does every four years, and a very conservative candidate, on a platform of returning the country to a state of peace and prosperity, undertoned with heavy racist and sexist messages, was elected by a narrow majority. Within two weeks, there were soldiers in every city to keep the peace, and strict laws were enacted severely limiting the rights of groups that were deemed to be the aggressors in the conflict; blacks and women. And the new president was cheered, because the bloodshed mostly ended. The laws and military presence, he had always said, were to be removed after a period of time, when the country was stable again.

But after several months, and a couple isolated riots, the laws were not gone. They got worse. Blacks and women stopped being able to gather in groups larger than 5. They stopped being able to purchase and own firearms. They were even stripped of properties and business, since those could be potential staging points for further violent action. Then they stopped being able to vote after a local election put a violent but charismatic thug up as mayor, who then tried to mobilize a whole town to war against the new president. Then came the executive order that stripped citizenship and all rights from blacks and women. Black people were given a week to leave the country or be deported or turned to slaves. Women fared little better, being reduced to honored servants to white men, and bargaining chips in men's deals. In a year, America had gone from the bastion of liberty and social activism to an authoritarian, patriarchal ethno-state. And the rest of the world, being crippled by their own social and economic issues, and being utterly unable to fathom summoning the military might needed to take on the United States, let it happen.

Sonya was unlucky. She had had the misfortune of residing in Louisiana when the order came down. You see, most people had the decency to let the blacks pack up their things and make for the borders and airports. Most empathized with the plight of the now refugees, even. But the south has always been a little backwards, hasn't it? Large groups of would be slavers started patrolling and detaining blacks and lone women who they could snatch up, after all, it was only illegal to do so for a week. So when Sonya and her family had made for the border, they were taken by one of these bands of slavers. Her father had been beaten mercilessly, and killed when he fought back, her younger brother put in chains, and her mother and sister were gangraped in front of her. She would have suffered the same fate, but when they went to strip her, she caught a fat one by surprise and was able to run, handcuffed and clothes torn, into the woods.

She had barely managed to stay ahead of the men chasing her. It took her three days to finally find an old shack that had a rusty saw she used to cut the chain on the cuffs, so she could use her arms, though the cuffs themselves remained tightly around her wrists. She might have been able to saw those off too, had it not been for the owner of the shed finding her. He was not sympathetic. She had actually had to kill him to escape, after he pulled a machete off the wall and tried to kill her. She didn't escape unharmed though, and her leg was badly cut. At the time, she didnt worry about it too much, since she had to get away, but after a week of running and hiding in hovels and drainpipes, she feared infection. It certainly wasn't getting any better, and was starting to smell. And her killing the man made the men chasing her all the more obsessed with finding her. Now, she wasn't just a 'little nigger whore who needs to learn her place,' as one of them had said, she was a violent, murdering runaway slave.

Now, she finally had a chance to rest. She had made her way out of the more populated areas and was close to the bayou. She figured if there was a chance at finding help from other black folks, it would be in the places the white folk didn't like to go. Besides, her cousin Tyrell was probably still around the area, he always liked to fight and wouldn't have left. At least, that's what she hoped. She was hiding in another drainage pipe beside a small highway. It was raining, and the pipe was half flooded, but she hadn't seen but two trucks all day, so she felt safer and more comfortable than she had in a year.

She had just closed her eyes for a minute, hoping for some sleep, when she heard the engine approaching. It was a truck, by the sound of it, and it was moving slowly. It stopped very close to where she was hiding. Panic shot through her like a blade of ice. How could they have found her? Wasn't she well hidden? They never found her in a drainpipe before! She got very still, and listened intently while being poised to spring from her hiding spot and run as fast as her badly wounded leg would allow into the woods nearby, just across the pasture she was next to.

A door slammed, and a very angry sounding man's voice was soon heard berating his truck for its many faults as her went about adjusting something under the hood. After a few moments, the man cursed again and determined it was the battery that was the issue. Another moment passed, and the rain let up, letting Sonya hear things clearly. There was quiet, then a door opened, and the man said, “Hey Bubba, i'm broke down 'bout 15 minutes outta Reeves, down up on 113... Yea, daggum battery bit it 'gain, third time this week. You think you could come on up this way and gimmie a little ol' jump? Alright, well I 'preciate that, brother... yea, i'll see you soon... Yea, see you then.”

Sonya relaxed a little, fairly certain that she wasn't in any more danger than she had been, and waited for a while. After what felt like an hour, another truck, a much healthier sounding truck, rolled up. There was a greeting, and after what Sonya presumed was an examination of the broken down truck by Bubba, the truck was jumped off, rather unhappily. “Now listen, if this truck is needing to get jumped off this much, you either need a new battery, or your alternators busted. You need to get this truck to the shop and get it fixed tomorrow, if it'll even start.”

There was a couple minutes of bullshitting between the two men, and at one point, Bubba expressed an interest in finding a “little house slave” for himself, since his brother found one and was apparently very pleased with her. They seemed to be wrapping up when the first man, who was called 'Red' declared that he had to piss. Sonya jumped a little in surprise when the stream of urine landed right next to her. The pissing stopped abruptly.

“You heard that, Bubba?”

“I ain't heard shit but your fucked up engine.”

“No, somethings in that drainpipe. Coon or sumin.”

Sonya tensed up again. Was this it? Would they find her? Could she take on two of them? Could she outrun them? Those and a thousand more questions leaped through her mind in those few seconds. She readied herself to lunge at whoever stuck their face in the pipe first, then bolt for the fence. Maybe she'd be able to make it, she had always been fast before her leg was cut, even running track in highschool. For a moment, she wished that she was back then, only two years ago, but a whole lifetime ago, it seemed. She couldn't wish long, however, because a light was shone directly in her face, the flashlight from a phone, and one of the men right behind it. She lunged, fist first at the light, and was rewarded by a startled yelp from the man, followed by the soft crunch of a broken nose under her fist.

The man fell backwards, his phone flew from his hand, and Sonya landed on top of him. A moment later, she brought the metal cuffs around her wrists down on his face together, then jumped up, unsteadily in the wet ditch and on her injured leg, and bolted for the fence. The other man, on the road still, called out to Red, and started rushing over, still processing what was happening. Sonya had the upperhand though, and was scrambling over the barbed wire before the second man actually recognized that it was a human who attacked his friend. But Sonya was unlucky, and as she was getting her injured leg over, one of the wires snapped, and she felt hard, her injured leg being dragged across the remaining wires, cutting her, and tearing the strip of dirty tee shirt that she had wrapped her wound in, off. Minutes later, she was across the small pasture, at the treeline, and she risked a look back. They weren't chasing her, at least not yet. Sonya breathed a sigh of relief, then turned and took off into the trees. Even if they weren't hot on her tracks, they likely would be.

Sonya watched the sun rise the next morning, and with the light, she could inspect her leg. It was definitely infected, a puffy, angry gash that slowly oozed a foul smelling, dark green pus, tinged with streaks of blood. She needed antibiotics or she was going to have very serious issues very soon. Hungry and weak from irregular meals, dehydrated and exhausted, and badly injured, she needed a break, a safe place. The rest of that day was spent trying to find food, clean water, and someplace with medicine. She found none of those things, and as the sun was setting, she resigned herself to an awful night under a tree, and wished for more rain, so she could catch a few drops with her mouth. But Sonya was unlucky.

She dreamt of awful things that night, as she often did these days, when she could dream. She dreamt of monsters rising out of murky pools to chase her, and of spiders bursting from her leg wound to consume her. She dreamt of her father's face, broken and bloody, his lifeless eyes staring at her and he whispered “Run.” She dreamt of her mother and sister being raped, but the men doing it were red skinned and horned breasts, with massive cocks that writhed like boas and strangled her mother, and tore her sister in half. And she dreamt of the hounds of hell chasing her from the scene, and into a void that wasn't there before. She turned and the hellhouds were gone but they howled still, from somewhere in the distance. The howling seemed to get louder and come from all around her, and she turned about quickly, trying to find the source of it before snapping awake in a cold sweat. The howling didn't fade with the rest of her dream, no, it was actually getting louder. It was real. And Sonya had been in the area long enough to recognize the baying of hunting dogs when she heard it. She knew that they bayed for her, and without thinking about it, she took off away from the sound, clearly from the direction she had come.

She limped through the woods as fast as she could on her increasingly lame leg, the sound of the dogs growing louder and louder around her. They couldn't be far, at this point, she thought to herself, they were just too loud. Her lungs were burning, her leg no longer in pain, just numb, her heart pounded in her chest from fear and the exertion, and her head throbbing because she was too tired. She stumbled over tricky roots in the pale moonlight and fell hard, barely raising her hands in time to stop from busting her face open. As she struggled to her feet, the howls of the hounds like sinister thunder around her, she knew running wouldn't work. Maybe she could hide in a tree? Better than being torn apart by hounds with fiery eyes. She cast her eyes about wildly, looking for a tree she could climb, and settled on a young oak with low hanging branches. She scrambled up the tree as fast as she could, with great difficulty, as her arms were weak and shaky, and one of her legs was useless. She managed to get onto a good branch just as the dogs, three of them, rushed the tree, howling and snapping at her heels.

Whoever was hunting her, Red and Bubba, maybe the fat one she escaped, she didnt know, but whoever it was was no friend of hers, and they would be here soon. And she was a treed coon, waiting for the slaughter up here. What were her options? If it were one dog, maybe she could jump on it and keep running, but three? No chance. She couldn't wait for the men to find her, her fate would be sealed. Maybe she could move to another tree and hope the dogs don't notice? Not like she had another choice. She went higher, hoping to get more leaves and distance between her and the watchful hounds. Near the top of the tree, not as high as she might have liked, she found her chance to move trees, a pine branch that came very close to hers. She balanced as best she could on her branch, holding onto a higher one for support, and slowly crept her way along the branch to the end. She reached out and grabbed a thin pine branch above the one she wanted to step to, and hoped that it would support her if she lost her balance. One foot went across the gap, her lame leg's. So far so good, now if she could just...

A branch snapped, and Sonya fell. She landed on her bad leg and felt a hot gush from her wound as something burst, then the pain was too much, and she passed out, luckily, before the first dog's teeth found their mark.

It seemed to Sonya like an unnaturally long, and unusually uneventful unconsciousness. It was long enough and stark enough for her to actively think to herself that she should have woken up by now. Was she dead? It had been a long fall... Maybe the hell hounds has finished her off? Wouldn't surprise her, she supposed, but don't they usually drag someone down to hell? Maybe this was hell? Seemed too quiet though, hell was supposed to be bright and painful. So this was.... Purgatory? That wouldn't be so bad, she thought. At least here she wasn't someone's slave to rape. And her leg was better! At least, she thought it might be. She couldn't see anything, but she couldn't feel any pain either. She definitely still felt like she had a body, though. But death was supposed to remove you from your body, so...

She was woken suddenly, by a door opening. Her eyes flashed open and the light stung, so she shut them tight again. Then her head burst into pain from somewhere inside, and she became aware of the rest of her pain too. Her hand stung like it had been flayed, the left side of her chest ached, and her wrist was almost certainly broken. Her leg, however, didn't hurt much at all, just throbbed slightly in time with her heartbeat. She groaned as the pain hit her, and she felt woozy and sick.

“Well, look who's up. My you gave quite a fight. Oh no, don't you try and move yet.” Sonya had, of course, tried to get up, but the effort was too much, and she merely rolled over and tried to vomit, but found she couldn't. “Yeah, when you gone and broke ol' Red's nose like that, well, we didn't take very kindly.” She opened her eyes again slowly, adjusting to the brightness of it all. The man speaking was Bubba, she recognized the voice. It seems that once again, Sonya was unlucky; this time because she wasn't dead. She managed to give the man a glare, to which he chuckled.

“Now, is that any way to treat the man who been takin' care of you? Why, I coulda' let them dogs go and have their way with your leg there, lord knows it smelled bad enough to be some sorta snack for 'em.” She looked at her leg, and saw it was bandaged properly, her hand and opposite wrist too. She also saw that apart from her bandages, and a large metal cuff around her good ankle, she was naked. There was nothing for her to cover herself with either. She looked back at Bubba, who was watching her closely.

“L...le...” She tried to speak but her throat was more parched than she'd known it could be. As her mouth tried to form words, her lips cracked painfully. “Bet you're mighty thirsty, ain't ya'?” Bubba said as he pulled a water bottle from a nearby case of them. He walked over to her, and squatted, so her was closer to her level. “Now, I don't care for things being the way they are. And I am sorry about you and your kin goin' through this. I had a few good buddies of the African persuasion. But I also had a brother, bout half a year back. Your kind decided his life was worth less than a message.” Bubba unscrewed the bottle of water and put it down, just outside of Sonya's reach. “You're lucky you're a pretty little negress. Means you might not have such a bad life, if you ever learn how to act right. Time's they are a-changin'. Now you gotta get used to that fact real quick. You can't be doing that runnin' 'roun' throwin' hands business no more. You are a slave now. You act nice and you look pretty, and you don't throw no fit when a man decides you're better used in bed than the kitchen. You got that?”

Sonya glared again at him, but she didn't have much strength left to try to fight the notion, nor did she think she would get any water if she did. She begrudgingly nodded, to which Bubba smiled. “Good. Now imma' give you this water here, and you're gon' sip it real slow like, because you drink too much at once and you're gonna throw up. Then, imma' go and find you something to eat, so you don't waste away there. And when I come back, you're gonna thank me for being so nice and considerate, and for my attentive care to your wounds.” He moved the water where she could reach it, and then walked out, closing the door behind him. Sonya grabbed the water and sipped, as she was bid, since that was all good advice. The cool water actually hurt going down, but she had never known something so wonderful before.

She was alone in the room now, sipping water as fast as she figured she could keep it down. It was a small room, dark brown carpet only a few shades lighter than her skin. The walls were fake wood paneling, the ceiling white and popcorned. The walls were bare, save for a single window, boarded up. There was no furniture in the room. The cuff around her ankle was connected with a thick chain to the only thing of note (besides the case of water by the door) in the room, a large chest freezer, which the sat on top of the chain, effectively keeping her leashed. She tried to think of some way to escape, but her options seemed very limited. And until she had some strength back, there was no way she could get far, even if she did find a way to leave.

Her planning was disturbed by Bubba coming back, this time carrying a paper plate with a sandwich and some chips on it, The breakfast of kings. He walked over and placed the plate down where he had put the bottle of water, just out of her reach. “Now, I reckon you can speak again, since most of that water is gone. As I recall, you owe me some gratitude.” She looked at him, and with sincerity, she said “Th-thank you. For my leg, and the water.” Then, “Please, let me go. I didn't do nothing to deserve this.”

Bubba gave her a look, not cruel or uncaring, a look that was close to sympathy. “I know, I don't believe that half of your kind did. But if I were to let you go, how far do you reckon you'd make it on that leg of yours? Oh I cleaned it up, been rubbing it with antibiotic cream, even got my vet to come stitch it up a bit. But you ain't gonna be using that leg for another week, if you're lucky.” He gave her a look, up and down, “You don't strike me as the lucky type.” He sighed. “And before you ask me to try to sneak you out of the country, you should know that all the borders are locked down tighter than a faggot's jeans. No, you're stuck here, and that's all she wrote 'bout that.” The way he said it was soft, like he was trying to be kind about delivering such horrid news. He gently pushed the plate of food withing her reach. “You best get that food in you, gotta get some strength to heal up, else you wont be as useful to your new owner. You're gonna be safe here while you heal up, and after that, the boys and I are gonna make sure you know to act civil and can perform the duties that men are lookin' for in a house slave.”

Over the next week or two, Sonya couldn't quite tell because of the lack of sunlight, Bubba proved to be a rather hospitable captor. He was never cruel to her, ensured that she was fed and well hydrated, and took special care of her injuries. He had even given her a small pillow and an old blanket, but warned her that she shouldn't get used to comforts like that. And perhaps most notably, he never touched her but to clean and bandage her wounds. She was kept naked, and told “You're probably gonna be kept naked wherever you go, and if I were to give you any clothes, they'd just be taken from you. No, better to get used to being on display now.” when she asked for a shirt. But despite her nakedness, Bubba didn't stare at her either. Maybe he really did feel bad about this whole thing. Not that it stopped him from selling her, that's just business. The world changed, and Bubba was quick to adapt to what brought home bread. But for a time, she was safe, and could process what had happened. She cried herself to sleep nightly, and would often weep in her waking hours. Her dreams were mostly memories, always ending with that awful night, her father's face with dead, sightless eyes, her mother's look of grim determination and resignation, her sister's tear streaked screams. Sonya doubted she would ever forget, and knew that she would never forgive. She decided that her survival was now a matter of biding her time, staying as safe as she could, waiting for a chance to escape the country. Or maybe she'd be able to last until the global community worked together to get fix the atrocities committed in the past year. Either way, running wasn't an option for her. She had to endure.

The peaceful time with Bubba was short lived, because once she was mostly healed, Bubba brought 'the boys' over. Three of them, Red being among them, clearly identified by the recently broken nose and a fresh scar on his brow. Bubba spoke first. “Now, you know how things are, and what you need to do. Show these boys here that you ain't got no fight, and they're like to take it easy on you. 'Cept Red, he's still mad about his nose, even if it does make him look better.” The guys chuckled and Bubba gave one last look at her, laden with meaning, then left and closed the door. The remaining men started really looking at her, lust obvious in their eyes.

It was quiet for a long moment before Sonya stood up and, resigning herself to endurance, bent over the freezer, closed her eyes, and started to pray.

#Sonya #Storytime

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amysteriousmessenger · 3 years

Note

Hey im kinda late, but... Do you mind writing snowball fight with reader + rfa + V and saeran? If that's too much to ask, then its okay love! Oh, its kinda late but merry holiday, or christmas if you celebrate it! May your holidays be blessed and filled with only happiness and love 😽😽. Here, take all your loves you deserve!

AAAAA this is so kind of you, thank so much and a happy holidays to you too!! <3 You’re always so lovely to me! I’m sorry that I’m posting this on Boxing Day, but I hope it’s still okay for you!

RFA and Reader Snowball Fight Headcanons

Yoosung Kim Snowball Fight Headcanons

You would have been visiting Yoosung at his university over Christmas, it has already started to heavily snow whilst you were on your way so by the time you actually got there, the snow had fallen to several inches.

Yoosung was so excited about the snow, it reminds him of when he was young and would make snowmen in the garden with his Rika and his sister. He’d look a little crestfallen thinking about it, and you offered to build a snowman outside on campus with him.

The two of you built the snowman together, dressing it in a scarf and sending silly pictures of the three of you to the RFA chat. It was then, as Yoosung was trying to take his own selfie with it, that you launched a snowball right into the back of his head and he caught it on camera.

He feels so betrayed, pouting as he looked at you with big puppy eyes.

He won’t retaliate until you laugh and begin scrambling to craft another snowball, at which point Yoosung with try to hide behind the snowman as a shield. He has to fight back, his time on LOLOL has trained him for this.

He throws a few snowballs out from behind the snowman, and then gets hit with one in the face when he peeks around to see if any made contact with you.

He’s laughing and having fun as you throw the snow, and it continues for a few minutes until you’ve tired yourselves out and return to his dorm for a hot shower and warm hot chocolate.

Zen/Hyun Ryu Snowball Fight Headcanons

The two of you would be on a winter date in the park. Zen was marvelling at how the pure white snow compliments his air, and makes the red of his eyes stand out against the crisp background and how th- Bam. You hit him on the side of the head with a snowball, instantly silencing his handsome spiel.

‘Jagiya! How could you do that to m-’ Bam, another one hitting him in the shoulder. He watched as you giggled, scrambling to gather enough snow for another attack and his heart just melted, he can’t stay mad at you. But, he also can’t lose: his ego would not allow it.

He grabs a fistful of snow and starts chasing you through the thick snow, his trousers are getting a little wet but he doesn’t mind, you’re having fun. You turn back mid-run to throw another snowball at him, but miss. Zen takes this opportunity to throw his own snowball at you, hitting you on the ass and earning a smirk from him.

You try to throw more, but Zen runs for fun, there’s no way that you could overtake him. You manage to get a few more snowballs thrown in his general direction but the majority of them miss and you somehow strumble and fall backwards into the snow as he got close.

Zen tried to stop himself falling, he really did, but the snow was heavy on his feet and he ended up falling on top of you, caging your body with his own.

After the initial moment of distress, he couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked with the snowflakes falling into your hair and on your eyelashes. He leaned in and planted a kiss onto the corner of your mouth, his lips slightly cold from the weather.

The two of you smiled, and then you scooped up a handful of loose snow and threw the dusting into his face.

Jaehee Kang Snowball Fight Headcanons

You were hard-pushed to get Jaehee to go out in the cold weather, she was too busy and didn’t particularly fancy getting her clothes wet. After enough pleading, she finally relented and agreed to make a snowman with you as long as it didn’t take too long.

The two of you made a small snowman together, and gave it a small ponytail. You sent a picture of it to the RFA chat with the simple caption ‘Snowzen’.

She would be getting ready to go back inside to make coffee when you hit her in the back of her shoulder with a snowball.

After a brief moment of disbelief followed by a sigh, Jaehee would wait until you weren’t looking to quickly grab some snow and throw it at you. Obviously, she missed.

But that still instigated a war. You grinned.

You both started gathering snow and throwing it at one another: yours in attack, Jaehee’s in defense. It wasn’t often that she got to loosen up, so you were happy to see her laughing on this rare occasion.

Snowzen got beheaded in the fight.

Saeyoung Choi in a snowball fight Headcanons

Firstly, it’s not a snowball fight, it’s war.

Seven would have been working into the early hours of the morning when he realised it was snowing and had an absolutely awful idea for a prank.

He went out into his garden, calmly grabbed a fistful of snow, took his time on his way back inside to smooth it into a perfectly spherical ball, prayed, and then launched it into your sleeping face from across the room and fucking bolted.

He knew he was a deadman. You sent in a text demanding that he meet you outside in twenty minutes to settle the score like men.

Once the smug bastard comes out, you immediately throw a snowball into his face but he ducked, so your snowball missed the target. You forgot he had physical training from the agency and realised this was going to be a lot more difficult than you originally thought.

You weren’t even sure how he manages to make so many snowballs in such a small amount of time but in the time it takes it you to craft three, he’s got twice as many done and he’s beginning to propel them at you.

There were about twenty minutes of all-out warfare, with Seven doing dramatic leaps behind bushes and rolls to escape your attacks, all whilst managing to hit you with practically every snowball he threw.

You were so happy to see him having such fun, knowing that he never got to do this as a child.

It was safe to say he won the snowball fight, and had to give you pouty kisses afterwards to make up for his prank.

Jumin Han Snowball Fight Headcanons

Jumin had never been in a snowball fight before and isn’t entirely sure what he’s supposed to be doing, so he sends you a wary look when you threw a snowball at him, hitting him in the chest. He had come outside onto the rooftop terrace to admire the scenic snow on the city with you, and you assault him? He is offended.

‘____, what are you doing? You’re going to get my suit wet an-’ You threw another one into his leg followed up with the sweetest, most innocent look you could muster. He sighed. He resigned himself to humouring you, since it would clearly make you happy and he was always one to indulge you.

You explained to him what he was supposed to do and he asked for a practice shot, which you were unwilling to give him.

Jumin’s aim was absolutely terrible and he mentions making a note to practice such things as this imperfection should be ironed out and- you threw another one at him. He smirked and gave you a look, before attempting to throw more of the snowballs he had delicately crafted at you and even managed to hit a few on your thighs and stomach.

Despite not particularly caring for such activities himself, he enjoyed seeing this playful side of you, even if it was a bit cheeky.

Jihyun Kim/V Snowball Fight Headcanons

The two of you would be out early in the morning so V could take pictures of the sunrise hitting the untouched snow, reflecting the beautiful colours of the scenery.

V also decided that he wanted some pictures of you in the same setting, with your long flowing dressing gown settled softly atop the snow. Of course, you indulged him.

After a few minutes of him taking your picture, you noticed he had smiled and was satisfied with his images for today. He turned to put his camera down on the table and take a sip of his coffee when something cold and wet exploded on the back of his head. It was a snowball.

It’s a little difficult for him to imagine himself in a snowball fight since he can’t see brilliantly and he feels like his aim will be off, but he’s more than willing to try since you wanted to play.

You run over to help him down the steps and into the large garden before you retreated back to your original position. You kept it fair though and stayed in his field of vision.

V wasn’t usually one to let off steam in such a way, so he seemed a little tense at first and didn’t throw the snowballs too hard in fear of accidentally hurting you. He missed more than he landed, so you were definitely winning the snowball fight.

He didn’t mind though, he was far more invested in the sight he saw before him: the adorning smile on your face, the red flush of your cheeks from the cold, snowflakes clinging to your hair and your dressing gown flowing against the breeze behind you as you ran. He could never capture such beauty if he tried.

Saeran Choi Snowball Fight Headcanons

Saeran doesn’t really enjoy the cold weather, it chills him straight to the bones so he either needs to wrap up in a bundle of layers otherwise he can’t stay out in it for very long.

However, the boy must go and buy his ice-cream from the convenience store since his ‘idiot brother’ ate the last of it without ordering more. You offered to go for him, since you were worried about him slipping and hurting himself, but he didn’t know which flavour he wanted, so you decided to accompany him instead.

The both of you were almost back at Seven’s when you got the idea to start a snowball fight, so you suddenly grabbed some snow and threw it at Saeran, hitting him in the shoulder.

He turned around and was both confused and annoyed, demanding to know why you hit him. You were also confused at his annoyance, but it quickly dawned on you that he didn’t know what a snowball fight was. He’d never had the chance to do it. He was never allowed out when he was a child and even if he had, he would have been too sickly to go out playing in the snow anyway.

You explained it to him and his expression softened when he realised it was a playful activity, and that he should try making up for the lost time. Saeran awkwardly knelt down, collected some snow and stiffly threw it back at you in the hip. He seemed nervous to make sure he was doing it correctly and looked at you for affirmation. You smiled and laughed, encouraging him to do it again as you collected more snow.

It was a very small, soft start for him.

Bonus: When the two of you got back to Seven’s house, his brother came to the door to plead Saeran’s forgiveness and asked if you got him any snacks from the shop, and was immediately met with a snowball to the face from Saeran.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger x reader #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger reader insert #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger hcs #mystic messenger hc #mymes #mysmes #yoosung kim #zen mystic messenger #jumin han #hyun ryu #jihyun kim #jaehee kang #saeyoung choi #luciel choi #saeran choi #mystic messenger headcanon

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dragonotaku-justineverything · 3 years

Note

Jaune was asked to be the photographer in Jessica's Cinder shoot, and he was more than happy to see her in a bikini at the Beacon pool. When they were done, her method of payment was laying back on a pool chair as Jaune fucked her breasts and splattered her face wit cum. The real Cinder was quite jealous.

So here’s my first attempt at a real smut/non sfw written piece with Jessica Nigri. I’m actually very nervous about posting this. I’ve been working on this for a while, constantly debating if I should even do it the entire time. I really hope this doesn’t make me look like a creep, but I also really wanted to finally try writing more raunchy stuff with Jessica Nigri.

But I put too much work into this to just NOT post it, so I guess we will all see how this first one goes and whether or not I’ll do anymore.

I’ll also be posting this to my Archive of Our Own account HERE.

So you all have been warned, what follows is a sort of one-shot (for now) smut piece of Jessica Nigri. You don’t enjoy stuff like that, you don’t have to read past this point.

*SNAP* *SNAP* *SNAP*

The gorgeous Jessica Nigri stretched her arms out over her head and let out a throaty moan. She was currently standing waist deep in the pool in the backyard of her house. Her stretch also ‘unintentionally’ pushed out her chest, making her red and gold bikini strain to keep her well endowed chest contained. She opened her eyes, revealing that her irises were gold instead of brown, and looked over at Jaune who was so kind to offer to be her cameraman after her usual photographer bailed on her just that morning.

She ran her hands through her hair, which was now raven black instead of her usual blonde, and held that pose for the next set of pictures Jaune was going to take.

*SNAP* *SNAP*

Jaune, to his credit, did a great job at focusing on just taking the pictures and doing his job. It wasn’t easy. It got hard to maintain focus when Jessica started to pose more and more provocatively. He didn’t stare, but he had to check the pictures to make sure they were okay. With seeing so many sexy pictures, he couldn’t help the hard on that formed in his white swim trunks. He did the best he could to conceal it, but it was pointless.

Jessica saw the bulge forming from the start. She wasn’t offended or disgusted. She know the effect she had on guys and even some girls. She knew Jaune wasn’t a pervert, he just genuinely thought she was very attractive. That made her smirk a little proudly. It was nice knowing he thought she was pretty not just because she had big boobs.

*SNAP*

Jessica stopped posing and relaxed her body. She sighed and moved towards the stairs of her pool. As she started getting out, she looked to Jaune. “Alright Jaune, I think that’s plenty to work with. Thanks again so much for helping me out on such short notice.”

Jaune looked up from the camera screen, a bit startled by Jessica’s sudden voice. “Y-you sure? We could get a few more if you want.”

“Nah it’s fine. You’ve already taken at least 200 already. Put down the camera and I’ll go inside to get you your money.”

Jaune lowered the camera to waist level, but quickly waved his hand to dismiss Jessica’s. “No no, you don’t need to pay me. I was happy just to help out a friend.”

Jessica dramatically rolled her eyes at his dismissal. Seriously, he could really be too nice for his own good. “Jaune, I’m serious! You took four hours out of your Saturday off from Beacon to come down to Vale and help me with my shoot. I’m paying you.”

Jaune just sighed loudly. “Jessica, you don’t need to do that.”

Jessica grabbed a towel and started drying off her lower body as she fired back, “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

“I’m serious Jessica.”

“So am I.”

The bickering between the two friends continued for a few more minutes with the same pattern. Jessica would insist that Jaune take money from her, and he would decline each and every offer.

Their ‘argument’ finally ended when Jaune yelled, “I’m not taking your money Jessica!”

Jessica just groaned in frustration. She was getting really annoyed now. How selfless (or stubborn) do you have to be not to accept money you did a job to earn?! She huffed, blowing a strand of her now black hair off to the side, and crossed her arms under her ample chest. When her girls got pushed up a little because of that, she looked down at them. Then she got a naughty little idea.

“Oh alright, fine Jaune. You don’t have to take my money.”

Jaune sighed in relief. He didn’t like bickering with his friends, especially over something as silly as this. He knows he did earn the money, but he just wouldn’t feel right taking money from his friends. “Thank you Jessica, I just don’t like tak-”

“You can just fuck my big tits instead~.”

Jessica had barely finished saying her newest offer when Jaune promptly froze and turned bright red. The camera slipping from his stiff fingers jogged some life back into Jaune. He fumbled with the camera a few times before getting a solid grip on it again. He rigidly turned to look at the beautiful woman who just made his heart stop. She looked very amused with Jaune’s panic. She wasn’t laughing out loud, but her golden eyes lit up while her upper body shook a little with laughter that she was holding back with tightly shut lips.

It took a minute, but Jessica finally reeled in her shaking and Jaune managed to calm down his blush a little. Now instead of it being his whole face, only his cheeks and ears were red.

Jessica spoke first, her lips in a wide and somewhat smug grin. “Wow. That was quite the-*snrk* reaction, ha ha ha.”

“W-well c-can you blame me!?” Jaune defended himself. “Y-you can’t just go making jokes like that! H-how did you expect me to react!”

“I wasn’t joking.”

…

Jaune’s head tilted to the side, the blush on his face being replaced with a look of confusion. “Huh?”

“I was serious. I’ll give you a boobjob.”

Jaune had zero idea how to respond to that.

So instead, his jaw just went slack and hung open in disbelief. Jessica did him a favor and stepped closer to him. She raised his jaw up with one slender finger on his chin to close his mouth. She slid her nail lightly along the underside of his jawline back towards his ear and then up towards his chin again, flicking her finger off when she ran out of track to follow. The small smirk still on her lips, she asked, “So how do you wanna go about it?”

Jaune sputtered while the red coloring flowed back to his entire face, before managing to speak. “Jessica! How could you say something like that?!”

“What’s the big deal?”

Jaune looked away sheepishly. “Y-you shouldn’t throw your body around like that. I-it’s not right. Your body isn’t something to use like a tool. Especially not for payment.”

Jessica’s brow scrunched up a bit in confusion, before her eyes lit up with realization.“Oooooh, Jaune you’re-” Jessica stopped herself and thought for a bit. He thought that she was offering her body just to pay him back for his help. ‘Oh for the love of-!…Jaune, why do you have to be so sweet and cute, but sooo dense! Okay, blunt it is.’ “Okay Jaune, how about this. I’m going to tell you, very clearly, what I meant by what I said.”

“O-okay?”

“I WANT you to fuck my tits.” Before Jaune could make a sound at hearing this new revelation, Jessica continued. “You weren’t the only one who couldn’t help sneaking a few glances.”

Jaune’s brow raised in confusion. “W-wha?”

Jessica grinned almost hungrily at him. She bit her glossy lower lip and moved her index finger to point down several times. “Those white trunks of yours aren’t that great at hiding anything~.”

Jaune’s eyebrows scrunched together a bit in confusion. He looked down to see what she was referring to, and promptly turned red.

Jaune had apparently gotten a bit distracted by Jessica because he had completely forgotten about the stiff problem in his trunks and stopped trying to hide it some time ago. Well that problem hadn’t gone down in the least. Jessica’s proposition hadn’t helped either. His boner had shifted and started pressing into the front of his trunks full force, making a bulge that no one could miss.

“So what do ya say~?”

Jaune’s attention shot back up to Jessica. While he was looking down at his own crotch, she had moved very close to him. So close they were almost touching. Jaune had to tilt his head a bit to look down at her. He accidently looked down a little too far though and ended up staring directly down her cleavage since her wonderful, bountiful chest was only an inch away from touching his.

As much as Jaune wanted to, he couldn’t look away.

Jessica noticed that he was staring again almost immediately. With a smirk, she quickly bounced on the balls of her feet several times, getting her tits to bounce and jiggle beautifully in her tight red bikini top. Jaune’s eyes stayed locked on them.

“You wanna see if my big girls can help out with your little friend down there~?” Jessica’s eyes had a teasing glint, not that Jaune noticed. He just nodded his head to say yes, or he was still tracking her bouncing tits. Either way, both were good enough for Jessica. She gently took his hand and led him over to the closest pool chair next to a small glass table.

Jessica turned around and sat down on the soft, yellow cushion on the chair. She had to admit it felt pretty nice against her ass cheeks since it was warmed under the sun all day. She brought hands up to undo the knotted string on Jaune’s swim trunks and gently slid them down. The white trunks dropped to Jaune’s ankles, the man’s breath hitching when they did, and it was Jessica’s turn to stare.

Jaune’s very, very hard cock sprung free, no longer being confined in those trunks that now looked way too small to Jessica. ‘How did they manage to keep this dick contained? It has to be a good seven inches at least!’ The seven inch monster in question stood directly out from Jaune’s crotch, completely rigid and with the head aimed directly at her face.

Jessica stared down the shaft of the huge cock, not blinking. She inched her face closer to it briefly, but she pulled back just before her lips touched it. As much as she might want to, that wasn’t the deal. ‘There will probably be another time for that anyways~.’ Jessica heard Jaune whimper though when she pulled away. She glanced up at him with a small smirk. “Don’t worry Jaune, you’re gonna get something else. I think it will be even better too~.”

Jessica swung her legs up onto the lawn chair and scooted back on it. She arched her back and pushed out her chest before laying down against the inclined backrest. She reached over to the glass table and picked up the bottle of sunscreen that was on it next to her scroll. She hadn’t used it for the shoot, but it was always nice to be prepared for anything. After all, she was about to get some great use out of it now.

She flicked open the lid and turned it over right above her tits. She stared directly at Jaune with complete confidence as she squeezed the bottle and felt the chilly white cream landed all over the top and into the valley of her cleavage. For a good five seconds, Jessica just kept layering up the sunscreen. Finally the long, white stream from the bottle ended with a small pouf. She closed the lid and put it back down on the side table next to the chair. She jokingly cleared her throat and looked back to Jaune.

With a smile, she grabbed her own tits, almost slamming her hands down on the soft D cup mounds, still covered by her bikini top. Jaune unconsciously let out a high pitched noise when he saw those big mounds flatten a bit under her hands. His eyes stayed locked on her big tits as her hands slowly began to roll them around. The large amount of sunscreen on top of and in between them slowly began to get spread around every inch of her flawless skin, especially in the wonderful valley between her boobs.

Her smooth, tan skin was soon covered in obvious white streaks from the sunscreen being rubbed in just a little bit. The bikini top she was wearing also shifted and Jaune could just start to see the darker skin of her areolas, and her hard nipples pressing against the fabric.

“That should be enough.” Jessica stopped playing with her own tits and ran her slightly messy hands down her slim waist. She laid back against the back of the lawn chair and pushed her chest out. “Well Jaune, feel free to start whenever you come back to your senses~.”

While Jaune was indeed very distracted by her erotic show just now, he was still very aware of what she said. He hesitantly took a small step out of his swim trunks and closer towards the chair she was laying on, his shins now touching the frame of it and completely naked. A part of him still wanted to decline, another part even wanted to say he’d just take the money now, but those were both very small in comparison to the part of him that wanted what was being offered right in front of him.

Jaune carefully raised his right leg and climbed onto the chair as well, his knees pressing down on the cushion on either side of Jessica’s thighs. He slowly scooted his knees forward and soon had his hard cock positioned above her chest. He looked down at her, then realized he was still holding the camera. With one hand, Jaune reached over and set it down on the same table that the sunscreen bottle was on.

With his hands now free, he grabbed the top of the chair’s back above Jessica’s head. He lowered his hips to position his cock at the bottom of her boobs under the middle bikini strap. He looked at Jessica to make sure it was okay. Their eyes locked and Jessica bit her lower lip as she nodded. Without any more hesitation, Jaune slid his cock head into her vast cleavage.

His cock head hit the skin in between her tits and slid up inside with ease, getting both of them to shiver a bit. Jaune pushed his cock all the way through and pulled his hips back. Within seconds, Jaune had started a steady rhythm of fucking Jessica’s tits. Jaune continued to hump into her cleavage, already loving the amazing feeling enveloping his cock from the incredibly soft pillows enveloping his shaft.

Jessica was also enjoying herself. She looked down from Jaune’s blushing face to her cleavage. She was greeted by the sight of the head of Jaune’s cock popping out, now slick with white sunscreen too. She was pretty impressed that it was big enough to do that. She could also feel just how hot and hard his shaft was. ‘Fuck, it feels like a metal rod! Let’s see how he likes this though~.’

While Jaune did already seem to be in paradise, Jessica decided to make it just a bit more… interesting for him~.

With a smirk, she moved her hands back up to her tits and pushed them together. Jaune gasped as the soft tits that were around his cock started to squeeze down, rubbing the cock between them even more. He stopped moving just to get used to the new tightness. Jessica chuckled as she heard the man above her gasp, letting her know that she made a good move.

Jaune started rolling his hips forward once again, this time needing more force to push into her slick cleavage. Pretty soon, his rolling turned into full on thrusting. Jaune was now literally just fucking her tits without a second thought, letting out small grunt and groans as he did so. His grunts almost drowned out the slick ‘plap’ing sound of his cock pumping in and out between her slippery tits as he thrusted away.

Those weren’t the only noises being made though. Alongside Jaune’s grunts, his cock’s slick ‘plap’s, and Jessica’s own moans and giggles as she watched Jaune eagerly thrust away between her sensitive tits, was a creaking sound coming from the rocking chair they were on. With Jaune’s harder thrusting, the chair had started shaking quite a bit. Jaune had also tightened his grip on the back of the chair, unknowing pulling it towards him with his thrusts. Jessica felt the rocking, but thought nothing of it.

Until Jaune pulled so far that the back of the chair slipped out of the slot keeping its back inclined.

“Aaaah!”

With a surprised yelp, Jessica fell back with the chair. She let out a small “Oouf!” as the chair flattened out. It now looked more like a skinny bed.

“Jessica?! Are you okay?”

Jessica, now laying flat on her back, looked back up to Jaune who was propped above her. He looked at her worriedly and had stopped his thrusting. She smiled and nodded. “Yup! I’m all good. Actually, this position might be better~.” Her hands squeezed and rolled her tits around Jaune’s cock, enticing him to continue. “Though, I still haven’t gotten your white stuff on my tits~. So keep going~.”

Jaune looked at her for a second, but once he saw that she really was okay, he started rocking his cock back into her cleavage again. A few seconds later and he was back to thrusting between her tits as quickly as he had been. The new position they were in was definitely making it a lot easier for him to fuck the sexy cosplayer’s tits.

Jessica didn’t stop helping her girls rub his dick either. Her hands still firmly pushing them around Jaune’s shaft, even sinking her fingers into them a little, making her moan along with Jaune. She glanced over at the table next to them, thinking about pouring some more sunscreen on to help things get really messy, when something else caught her attention.

She saw her scroll though the glass. Seeing that it was more within her reach than the sunscreen bottle, she quickly got another idea. She moved her hand off her left tit and reached over to the table, now using one arm to keep her breasts wrapped tightly around the meaty rod fucking them. She smirked as she started her naughty little plan.

Jaune didn’t see Jessica reach for the table because his eyes were closed, just enjoying his own little paradise at the moment. For a whole minute, Jaune was only focused on pumping faster and faster into her slippery cleavage, his cock still gliding effortlessly into her deep valley. It felt too fucking good to stop now, and he wanted as much pleasure as he could get.

His heavy balls were sliding along her stomach and slapping into her underboob at this point with how heavy his thrusts had gotten. Jaune scrunched his eyes shut even harder and let loose a guttural moan as he felt himself get right to the edge. He could feel his cock twitch and pulse as he finally hit his breaking point.

“Fuuuuuuck! Jessicaaa!” Before Jaune even finished shouting her name, he was already unloading ropes of cum. “Uuuughfuck!” As he continued to release ropes of cum out without care, he felt absolute bliss shoot through him. Nothing could have ruined how amazing he felt right now.

For nearly a minute, Jaune kept shooting loads of his thick cum. He felt them get smaller and smaller though, and soon came to a full stop. Jaune panted heavily, coming down slowly from his climax. The best best one he’d ever had too. He slowly opened his eyes finally and looked down, and his slowly softening cock nearly shot back to attention when he did.

Underneath him was Jessica Nigri, covered in his spunk. everything from her head down to the top of her breasts was covered in thick white ropes of his cum. The sexiest part of that though was seeing her happily lick around her lips and scoop up what cum she could into her mouth, all with a sexy smirk on her glossy lips.

Jessica took her hands off her tits and started using them to scoop up cum off her face. She brought her fingers to her mouth and slowly pushed them past her lips one by one, sensually sucking them clean from cum. She moaned in the back of her throat, knowing Jaune was watching her now.

After all her fingers were clean, Jessica parted her lips slightly and pulled her last finger out of her mouth, pulling her bottom lip down a little as it slid out. She looked straight up into Jaune’s eyes and moaned in a sultry voice. “Mmmmmm~. Delicious~.” Jaune blushed when he heard that, getting a small chuckle from Jessica.

After waiting a couple of seconds to let Jaune calm down, Jessica started to sit up, prompting Jaune to back away from her and sit down on the long side of the chair. Jessica made sure that her bikini top was still somewhat fitted on her breasts as she sat up completely, then swung her legs off the chairs side to join Jaune sitting directly next to him. She stretched her arms up above her head with her fingers interlaced, letting out a relaxed sigh. Jaune didn’t stop himself from staring at her chest as she pushed it out.

Jessica’s arms fell back down to her side and she gently started to rub Jaune’s thigh with her right hand. “Mmmmuuuh that was pretty hot Jaune, you have fun~?”

Jaune looked over at her, and eagerly nodded his blushing head. “Yeah, t-that was amazing Jessica.”

Jessica kept smirking and patted his thigh twice with her hand. “Well, maybe that can happen again sometime. Whaddya think of that Jaune~?”

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

“Well then, I guess we’re gonna have to try to get together more often huh~? But for now, I think I’m going to go take a shower and get cleaned up a bit. You did get me pretty messy~.” Jessica stood up and picked up her scroll. “If you’d like, I have a spare bathroom with another shower that you could use.” With that, she started to sashay towards her house with a sexy sway in her hips.

Jaune started after those swaying hips and committed them to memory. As Jessica slid her home’s backdoor open, Jaune stood up and picked up his swim trunks, covered his crotch with them and jogged to catch up to her. Jessica stepped aside and let him in first, admiring his fine ass as he walked by. ‘I’m gonna have to compare mine with his sometime~. Those are some firm cheeks~.”

With that thought, Jessica stepped into her home as well and closed the door behind them.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chime~

Cinder’s musing on her scroll was interrupted as she received a video message. She also groaned when she saw who it was from. “Uuugh. What does that bimbo want now?” Cinder was really tired of being annoyed by Jessica. Jessica had tried to be ‘friends’ with her at first, but now just seemed to just enjoy annoying Cinder whenever she could. Just the thought of her right now started to make Cinder feel frustrated.

“Whatever it is, it’s probably just a waste of my time.”Despite her better judgement, Cinder still opened the message from Jessica, though a bit begrudgingly. After a few seconds of loading, the video started to play and she was greeted by the sight of her ‘counterpart’ Jessica recording herself by holding her scroll out above her. Cinder could see her body was rocking slightly, but before she could even wonder why that was, the camera began to pan down Jessica’s body.

Revealing a large cock quickly pumping back and forth between her sunscreen covered breasts.

Cinder’s head recoiled back slightly at seeing such a thing on her screen. Because she was farther away from the screen now, Cinder finally noticed that there was a small caption in a tinted dark blue line on the bottom of the video.

[I hope you like trying to catch up Cindy~. I think I have a good step up on you~.]

Cinder scoffed after reading that caption. “What on Remnant is she talking about? What could I possibly need to catch up with…. her…. on…” Cinder’s question trailed off as the camera angle panned again, completely flipping around this time. It landed on the face of a man propped above her.

Not just any strange man either. But Jaune Arc. The Jaune Arc that she had been trying to get to fuck her for weeks, with zero results. And now here he was on her scroll screen, currently fucking this bimbo’s tits!

The video ended while Cinder was ranting in her thoughts. It started to replay on a loop, but before it played the first five seconds again, the screen went blank. Then started to show cracks as Cinder slowly crushed it in her grip. She abruptly stood up and tossed her scroll on to the bed she’d been on.

She straightened out her red dress and started to pace towards the door. “Fine. If that slut wants to try to steal what I want, I’ll happily make her realize her mistake. You wanted me to ‘catch up’ Jessica? Well, I’ll make you regret those words.”

With a determined fire blazing in her eyes, she left the room, slamming the door shut behind her. She didn’t pay any of the scared students she passed a second thought. She had to think of a plan of how her desired fucktoy to get back, and rub that bimbo’s face in it when she did.

#rwby #jaune arc #jessica nigri #jaune x jessica nigri #cinder fall #archive of our own #ask #non sfw #lemon #smut story #anonymous

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