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citrusdarling7 · 7 months

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The Bloodline

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description- as a highly trained sister of the Bene Gesserit, you were prepared to do your part in carrying on the selective genetic material of this generation. however, a change of plans are made, and you are told that you must secure the bloodline of the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the dangerous young heir to Geidi Prime

warnings- unprotected intercourse, p-in-v sex, fingering (f! receiving,) sort of knife-play, blood, violence via gladiator fighting (but not too descriptive,) BG propaganda, slightly inaccurate Dune technology, feyd-rautha has black cum (credit to @valeskafics for that one<3)

word count- 1,857

a/n- wow, it's been a while. haven't published anything on this site in like over a year I think, but I hope at least someone will enjoy this sick little piece I wrote instead of doing my homework :)

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It was never supposed to be him.

You were supposed to be paired with the heir of Caladan, Paul Atriedes, and you had been told this since your first day of training. Yet, the Atreides' had all been killed on Arrakis at the hands of the Harkonnens, and your Reverend Mother decided that the duty of continuing another selective bloodline would fall upon you. The na-Baron Feyd-Rautha may have been the result of 90 generations of predetermined genetic material, but that didn’t make him any less psychotic. Nor any less intriguing.

The bright sun of Geidi Prime was high today, and the air was sticky with humidity. Cheers erupted from the crowds as a young Harkonnen warrior gutted a slave in the pit below, and you found yourself growing bored of the spectacle. One of the ladies to your right let out a shriek at the gruesome scene, drawing your attention.

“How is one supposed to stomach this brutality for an entire day?” She exasperated.

“It is tradition for the Harkonnens’, Lady Clarissa. They value strength, and what better way to prove it than in the gladiator pits?” Your Bene Gesserit training consisted of much time studying the histories, and you pride yourself on your knowledge of the cultures of all the Great Houses. Lady Clarissa grimaced before adjusting her hairpiece and fixing her mouth back to a pout.

“It is deplorable, but I suppose you would have no issue with that sort of thing,” she remarked. You paid her no attention; the Bene Gesserit were not well liked by many nobles, Lady Clarissa’s family included. Her discontent mattered little to you, although you felt yourself wishing you had at least one other Sister here with you.

Unfortunately, your Reverend Mother had sent you on this mission hastily, claiming that the upcoming celebration of the na-Baron’s birthday would be the perfect time for you to carry out the task. Coming from a Great House yourself, it was not abnormal for you to attend such an event, but the marks of the Sisterhood followed you wherever you went. Although controlling your mind was usually an easy task, you found yourself slightly anxious after waiting hours to finally get a glimpse of your target.

It felt as if years had passed before the announcer finally declared that the young na-Baron would now display his bravo in a fight against three slaves, supposedly the last remaining members of the Atreides household. You perked up in your seat, pulling the binoculars close to your eyes as the crowd bellowed.

Feyd-Rautha strided out to the center of the pit and bowed before the Baron, giving you a good look at the young heir. He was pale, so pale that the sun seemed to reflect off of his skin. The black fighting suit he wore drew your attention to his muscled torso, his sculpted abs peeking out from beneath the hem. His face was stern, although a smile stretched from his lips as one of the slaves began to stagger towards him. As you watched him slice open the other man’s throat, you found your heartbeat begin to race. You were intrigued.

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The interior of the Harkonnen palace was grim, as you had expected it to be. You walked through the fortress slowly, counting your steps as a way to calm your breathing. After the spectacle in the gladiator pits, you were immeasurably more nervous than you had been when arriving on the planet. Feyd Rautha was brutal, vicious, and likely insane. Yet, you could not deny your attraction towards him. It was stupid, immature, and dangerous. You were a trained sister of the Bene Gesserit, and this was your duty. To conceive a child with the na-Baron, and ensure the bloodline is secure.

You were not supposed to be on this side of the palace, yet no one questioned as you walked by. Your gown swept across the floor as you moved and your hairpiece tickled your bare shoulders. The na-Baron’s chambers were ahead to your left, and you noted the absence of guards, as well as the faint sound of approaching footsteps. A rather ghastly portrait of a late Baroness served as an excuse for your attention, although you struggled to prevent your eyes from wandering to the dark form approaching.

“Well, what do we have here? Are you lost, little pet?” His voice was deep and raspy, and you found your mind faltering once again.

“ My Lord na-Baron.” You restrained from bowing your head as you turned from the painting, staring directly into the man’s eyes as you sweetened your gaze. “I believe I may have wandered too far from the guest’s hall. Mayhaps I have wandered into a trap?”

“You should not be here.” He stepped closer, and began to stride around you in a circular fashion, like that of a predator stalking its prey. He watches you with hunger in his eyes, imagining what pleasure it would bring him to tear the dress from your body and take you right against the wall.

The Reverend Mother had been right; sexually vulnerable.

“Perhaps, I am in exactly the right place. I wished to congratulate you on your triumphs in the fighting today, it was truly a spectacle to remember.” You approached him swiftly, and the smell of steel and musk filled your nose. “I have heard many tales of your strength and bravery, but none measure up to what I have witnessed today. You will be a fearsome Baron, just like your uncle.” At the mention of the Baron, Feyd’s eyes lit up and his hand snapped around your neck.

“So you must be the gift my uncle has promised. He must have bought you Off-World, for I have never seen a Harkonnen slave as beautiful as you. I will enjoy ravishing you.”

Your heart beat sky-rocketed as he tightened his grip on your throat, making you lose control.

“Release me,” you commanded with the Voice, out of instinct rather than fear. The words fall from your lips before you can stop them, and Feyd obeys. The grin on his face falters as you stumble backwards, realizing that you may have just destroyed generations of planning, with only two words. Thankfully, Feyd does not seem discouraged.

“Ah, not a gift then, but I will have fun with you all the same, witch.” With a sudden movement, he pushed you against the wall and captured your lips in a harsh kiss. Feyd’s hips pressed hard against yours as he claimed your mouth with his tongue. His scent was overpowering in a way that made your head spin and seemed to subdue your thoughts. Your thighs clenched in anticipation as the na-Baron grabbed at your neck once more.

“Tell me, witch, what do they say of me in your homeworld? Are all you little witches so eager to please?” Feyd’s threatening gaze made your knees falter as you looked up to him with a soft smile.

“Not all of us, my lord. But I must admit, I have found myself rather allured by the temptations of your beautiful planet.” His hand dropped from your throat, and vanished to his side before reappearing a split-second later, with a curved blade in his grip. The tip of the knife rested against your skin, the cold steel making you shiver. Feyd swiped his other palm across the wall, causing it to unlock in a strange clicking pattern. His eyes burning into yours, he led you backwards into what you presumed to be his bedquarters, the blade at your neck guiding you in the way he wanted.

Your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you allowed yourself to be pressed onto it. His blade was thrown aside, allowing his hands to roughly tear at your gown, ripping the bodice straight in half. You let out a gasp as you felt cold fingers slip between your undergarments.

“What a brazen little slut you are, showing up outside my chambers so wet and wanting.” He thrust two digits inside of you, finally satiating the ache that had been present from the moment you laid eyes on him in the arena. He fucked you roughly with his fingers, setting an excruciating pace that had you whimpering and writhing against the bed in mere minutes.

“Please, my lord. I want you inside of me,” you begged, reaching up to run your hand along his torso, stopping when you felt the bulge of his manhood straining against the confines of his pants.

Feyd eagerly obliged, tugging off his pants and stroking his thick cock rapidly to prepare himself for you. He lined his tip up with your entrance and wasted no more time teasing you. The na-Baron thrusted into you, hard, making you clench at the bedsheets and thrash your head to the side in an attempt to stifle your moans.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, little witch,” he grunted, grabbing at your wrists and pinning them above your head. His dark eyes burned into yours as you tried your very best to keep quiet, not wanting to alert any servant that might have been lurking outside. He met your lips with his once again, in a ravenous kiss that had your teeth clashing against his. Feyd bit down on your bottom lip, drawing blood that he hastily licked up before moving on to attack your neck.

You were so full with his cock inside of you, and you had never been more aroused in your entire life. The metallic smell of blood seemed to radiate from the man, and his fingers left delicious bruises wherever they ventured. You felt your toes begin to curl and your stomach tighten; the agonizing pace at which he was fucking you had you close to the edge of bliss once again. He could feel you begin to clench around him, your walls gripping his cock like a vice.

“Is the little witch going to cum for me? Go ahead, you’re mine now,” He finally released your hands, and you immediately gripped at his muscled shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “My uncle may not have intended you for me, but fate has. No one else will ever have you.” You nodded desperately, not caring about the words coming from his mouth but rather the immense pleasure he was giving you.

Finally, a wave of bliss overtook your body, making you shake and scream as Feyd continued to roughly fuck you. You lost control of your mind once again, seeing stars as you came.

Feyd was close behind you, and the aftershocks of your orgasm had him rutting his hips against yours, letting out a deep groan as he emptied his seed into you.

It took you a few moments to regain your senses, to finally realize that you had successfully completed your mission. His black seed leaked out of you, a sickly sight that made your face flush. He had left his distinctive Harkonnen mark on you, and the bloodline was secure. It was never supposed to be him, but you were very pleased with the way things had worked out.

#dune part 2 #feyd rautha #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune #dune smut #feyd x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha oneshot #feyd rautha fic

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mohammedrabah2 · 13 days

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Our Dreams Under the AshesOur Family’s Journey to Hope🥺🇵🇸

My name is Mohammed Al-Deeb, and I write to you with my heavy heart and ask for your help. The recent war in Gaza has shattered my family's lives and left us in unimaginable circumstances. 😔 We were a family of 17 living in peace under one roof, but now we are homeless, struggling to find shelter and settlement. My mother, sisters, children and brother suffer from serious psychological and health problems because of this disaster. We have lost our home and livelihood, and now every day we face uncertainty and fear. 💔

We urgently need your support to find a safe place to live and rebuild our lives. 🏡The situation we're going through is harder than anyone can imagine. My family and I were kicked out of our house a year ago, and we were taken south, leaving behind our memories, friends and all our possessions. Our house was our paradise, and my father was working in a car repair shop under our house, which was also destroyed. Now, everything is lost. 💔

Every contribution, no matter how small, brings us one step closer towards restoring security and hope. 🙏✨

I never imagined that my house would be destroyed and I find myself homeless. It's an indescribable feeling when your dreams are broken, when you don't find something you eat and you can't do anything. Half of us sleep in a tent, and the other half sleeps in the open in the middle of this deadly situation. 😞💔

Our lives are full of fear and destruction as a result of bombing and reckless bullets. Every day, we move from one place to another, and set up temporary nylon and fabric tents just to find a place to sleep. 🏕

Every night, we go to sleep and we don't know if we're going to wake up or die without knowing our fate. The fear of losing my family constantly haunts me. Please, understand our pain and help us 😔

I am also a university student studying engineering. I had big dreams and ambitions, but the war on Gaza destroyed everything I was working for. 😢

I desperately need urgent support to rebuild my academic and professional life. Your help will not be just material support; it will be the light that restores hope and enables me to regain my

future. 🌟

🇵🇸🍉🥺

Please, help me stand up again and continue my journey. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. ❤️🙏

You can see more of my story from the link of my Instagram account 🥹🩵

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Thank you for giving my family great hope by supporting our campaign.❤️‍🩹🥺

~ @gaza-evacuation-funds 🌸🤍

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Post link 🤍

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Post link

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And thank you all for what you do for us❤️‍🩹🍉

~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~

These are some of my family accounts you can see their story 🙏

~ @raneenrabah1 🌸❤️‍🩹

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#free gaza #free palestine #gaza strip #gaza #gaza gofundme #gaza genocide #save palestine #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #news on gaza #palestine

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thatdammchickennugget · 9 months

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Take Care Of My Girl

pairing - mattheo riddle x fem!reader x lorenzo berkshire

warnings - cursing, smut, unprotected p in v, unprotected anal, threesome, some cringey dirty talk, MINORS DNI || 18+

wordcount - 2.7k

a/n - I just saw that I reached 1.000 followers that's insane! I wanna thank every single one of you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and following little old me, it really means so much to me <3 to celebrate I finally pushed myself to finish this, I hope you like it <3

You should not have played with him this morning. But dressed in a pretty short black dress and feeling on top of the world with your hair falling down your back in perfect silky locks, you saw your chance to rile him up.

Knowing that you only had a couple of minutes left before you had to leave for the annual ball hosted by the Berkshire’s at the end of every summer, you grasped at the opportunity to tease your boyfriend.

He looked like a dream in his black suit and emerald collared shirt, hair tousled perfectly.

Mattheo was fixing his tie in front of the wide gold-rimmed mirror in his bedroom when you re-emerged from the bathroom after putting the finishing touches on your make-up.

Pressing your chest against his back, you snaked your arms around his middle, your palms rubbing along the edge of his slacks, middle and pointer finger sliding inside the tight-fitting material to play with the hem of his boxers.

One of your hands strayed from its path to slide up over his chest, soothing some of the tension from his tight muscles.

He finished fixing his tie as you scattered slow kisses along his shoulder blades, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror when your fingers found their way into his underwear.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he quipped, the corner of his lip quirking up as he studied the way you batted your lashes. He was fully aware you were up to something.

Cheek squished against his arm, you pushed your lips into a pout. “I need you, Matty.”

You did not miss the mischievous glint in his stare. It was never hard to rile him up, at least it wasn’t hard for you.

One of his hands found its place on your wrist, stopping your hand from sliding down even further. “What exactly do you need from me, baby?”

Pushing up onto your toes to nip at his ear, you made sure to let your breath hit the spot behind his ear. His weak spot, the spot that could make him melt beneath you if you targeted it just right.

“I need your cock.”

Through the mirror, you watched him bite down on his lower lip. He started pushing your hand closer to their destination, speaking in a low voice. “Why don’t you go ahead and show me just how needy you are?”

You happily obliged, sliding a hand over his length, relishing in the sound of the small gasp leaving his lips. One of his hands reached behind him, grasping your ass and pulling you even closer against his chest.

Slowly stroking him, you watched his face in the mirror, waiting for the moment he closed his eyes and leaned his head back before pulling your hand away and leaving a quick, teasing slap on his backside.

His eyes flew back open, finding yours with a confused expression. Sending him your cheeriest smile, you went to grab your bag. “Okay, let’s go. We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry.”

A knowing smirk made its way onto his face. That was the moment you should have realised he would retaliate, but you were feeling much too good about yourself to notice it.

You made your entrance at the Berkshire manor, greeting whoever Mattheo deemed important enough, and made polite conversation with whoever came up to talk to you. Soon Enzo arrived, and your boyfriend was pulling you along behind him as he followed his friend to the library, happy to get away from the crowd.

You took your place on one of the sofas, your thighs pressing against his as you leaned into him, watching as Enzo threw himself down on the sofa across from you. The boys instantly opened up a discussion on Quidditch, so you took the moment to relax, already exhausted from socialising this much.

At first, you didn't even notice when Mattheo’s hand edged higher and higher up your thigh, but once it finally made its way beneath your dress, you instinctively clenched your legs together. Mattheo was not having it, his grip tightening as he pulled them apart.

You froze in place when his fingertips ghosted along the hem of your panties, checking if Enzo had noticed what he was up to. Thankfully, he was not paying attention to you whatsoever, completely focused on what Mattheo was saying.

There was a hint of desperation in Mattheo’s touch now as he ran his thumb along the top of your panties. You caught his little smirk when he felt the wet patch beneath his finger, rubbing slow circles over your clit.

Your legs opened a bit more, silently asking him to continue despite the feeling of shame washing over you. His touch on your sensitive bud had goosebumps forming all over your body, but you didn’t stop him. Not yet anyway.

Closing your eyes, you thought about his soft lips on your neck and his strong hands on your hips. About his powerful thrusts inside of you, and a new excitement washed over you. By the time he pushed your drenched underwear to the side and slid a finger inside of you, you had completely forgotten there was someone else in the room.

Mattheo began pumping his finger in and out at an agonisingly slow place, his thumb still drawing circles on your clit. You couldn’t help the moan that slipped past your lips. Grinding your teeth together, you embraced the pleasurable feeling of your oncoming orgasm until you heard a soft groan from the other sofa.

Your eyes snapped open only to meet Enzo’s, staring back at you, his eyes wide. Your cheeks flushed a bright red in embarrassment at being caught, though you felt yourself unwillingly clench around Mattheo's finger.

Your hand went to grab your boyfriend's wrist, trying to withdraw his hand from your core. He responded by pushing a second finger into your tight hole, increasing the pace of his thrusting digits. Another moan tumbled from your mouth when your gaze shifted, dropping down to find Enzo rubbing himself over his pants.

Suddenly everything became too much. Too overwhelming. The pleasure building between your legs was rising quickly, the intensity of Mattheo’s fingers pushing deep into your centre had you moaning louder and louder. Dropping your head back, you clutched at his arm tightly, your nails sure to be leaving marks on his skin.

"Oh, god," you cried out. Mattheo paused, his fingers withdrawing slightly as he looked down at you, his brows furrowed.

Then the corner of his lips curled up before he pulled them out completely, bringing his fingers up to his mouth, tasting your juices. "Mmm...so sweet."

With a whimper, you grabbed at his collar to pull him closer. But before your lips could meet, the door flew open, a familiar head of blonde hair appearing in the doorway.

"Mattheo, come on. My father wants to introduce us to someone," Draco told him, not even waiting for a reply before he was out in the hallway again.

Your jaw dropped when your boyfriend actually stood up, making his way to the door. "Really? You're going to leave me right now?"

He just looked at you with a cheeky grin, before turning to Enzo, making the other boy rush to attempt to cover the bulge in his pants. "Take care of my girl for me while I'm gone?" he said with a wink, pulling the door closed behind him.

Silence fell over the room. All you could hear was the heavy breathing of Enzo and your own erratic breaths. He had placed a pillow on his lap, refusing to meet your eyes, his face still flushed. A newfound boldness took over you at his flustered state and you pushed yourself off your seat, slowly making your way to where he was sitting.

He gulped when you came to a stop in front of him, your thighs brushing against his knees. You caught his eyes raking down your body, halting at your hips where your short dress was still pushed up, your panties clear on display.

Then they lifted up and found yours, full of heat.

"Are you going to?" you asked him in a low voice, almost a whisper. "Are you going to take care of me?"

His hands hesitantly rose to touch the side of your thighs, his touch leaving goosebumps in their path as they travelled up your exposed skin. When they found their destination at your hips, he hooked his fingers under your panties, sliding them down and revealing your soaked core.

He licked his lips, a nervous look crossing his features as you climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Your hips rocked forward, desperate to pull another groan from him.

Slowly, Enzo brought one hand up to cup your breast, kneading it softly through the thin material of your dress before he leaned in closer, his lips leaving soft kisses along your neck. You let out a shaky breath, grinding down harder against his growing bulge. Pressing his free hand between your legs, his fingertips teasingly brushed along your folds.

A gasp escaped you as you started rocking against him, needy for more. And more he gave. Steadily, Enzo teased your sensitive bud with his talented fingers. His tongue leaving wet trails down your neck, his lips lingering against your ear. "I’ll take really good care of you. I'll make you feel so good," he rasped.

It was like he had flipped a switch, all the tension that had been simmering underneath came pouring out as he captured your lips with his. Two of his fingers pushed into you, pumping in and out at a rapid pace while his other hand pulled down the front of your dress.

Enzo's lips pulled back, quickly attaching themselves back to your skin and trailing down to your exposed breasts. Your head thrown back, the loud moans now tumbled out of you freely. "That's it, love. Let me make you feel good," he mumbled against the soft skin around your nipple, before taking the hardened peak into his mouth.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you moaned loudly, your climax exploding as his teeth grazed over your sensitive nipple, body convulsing around his fingers. Enzo’s finger’s slowed their pace and he pulled you back into another kiss, his tongue running along your lower lip, until you finally collapsed against his chest.

You took a moment to come down from your high before you started sliding your hands down his chest towards the button of his pants. His eyes widened as your fingers made quick work unbuttoning them, one hand slipping under the waistband to stroke him over the material of his underwear.

A sigh left his mouth as your fingers worked on his swollen cock, eager for some release. Enzo groaned out your name, as you pushed the restraining material down,his whole body shuddering with pleasure when you took him into your hand. You smiled smugly as you continued to pump him, his hips thrusting forwards in response.

Pulling his head back by grasping some of his hair, you held his gaze while lowering yourself down onto his tip, relishing in how his hands gripped onto your hips tightly. You started rocking your hips slowly, teasing his tip, sliding it along your folds.

He growled and bucked up against you, his body shaking with the pleasure you were bringing him. Your mouth left open mouthed kisses along his neck , sucking and biting along his sensitive skin. Enzo’s grip tightened on your hips, pulling you impossibly close to himself.

You slid further down and he gasped sharply, his fingers pushing into your skin as he pushed you down, fully driving his erection inside you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you began rocking your hips faster, one of his hands sliding down to find your clit.

He groaned in pleasure as he slammed harder into you, the friction sending sparks through your entire being. Enzo’s breathing was becoming more laboured, each thrust causing him to moan and cry out your name.

The pressure building within you threatened to burst from inside of you, and your toes curled, when you heard the door creak open behind you. Your hips stopped rocking and your hands squeezed Enzo’s shoulder blades. Both of you froze at the sound of footsteps coming closer.

"Oh, don't stop on my account," Mattheo rasped into your ear when he came to a stop behind you. "Come on, keep going."

Your whole body stiffened at his words and your fingers dug deeper into Enzo’s shoulders. Enzo met your eyes, an unsure look on his face and his jaw clenched. Slowly his hips started to rock up again, his movements slower than before.

Enzo’s breathing grew heavier as your hips started moving against him faster. You felt one of Mattheo's hands on your hips, pushing you down to meet Enzo's thrusts, the other coming down to smack your ass.

Mattheo let out a low chuckle at your yelp when his palm met your skin, the noise only fueling your arousal. A loud moan left Enzo’s mouth at your reaction. Mattheo's hand came up to your face, thump running over your bottom lip. "Open up, baby."

You obeyed instantly, opening your mouth to wrap your lips around his finger. You let out a small whine when he pulled it back out, resulting in another slap to your sensitive skin. Then a gasp tumbled from your mouth as he slowly pushed his saliva covered thump against the tight ring of your ass.

"Fucking hell..." Enzo breathed out when he slipped out of you and then slammed back into you again, intently watching your face as Mattheo slowly pushed his finger deeper.

As your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you let out a louder moan, you felt Mattheo bite down on your shoulder, now pumping his finger into your ass in an agonising rhythm. Your whole body arched and shook as you felt your release getting closer with every pump of his finger.

"Are you ready, good girl?" Mattheo nipped at your ear, the warm breath hitting your neck sending a shiver down your spine.

"Yes, please, Matty," you whined, leaning back against his chest as your eyes remained on Enzo's flushed face.

Your boyfriend muttered a quick lubrication charm before throwing his wand on the sofa behind him, replacing his finger with his already leaking tip. Your eyes clenched shut at the pleasurable pain when Mattheo slowly pushed himself into you, rocking into you gently before picking up his pace.

"God...fuck...fuck...yes!" you cried out, grabbing Enzo's biceps tightly, your nails digging in as they both started thrusting into you in sync, your muscles contracting around them. Your body trembled and your vision started fading in and out as your brain grew fuzzy. Everything faded out except the feeling of their bodies pressed against you, their moans filling the room as they pounded into you and you let the orgasm wash over you, Enzo still rubbing shapes into your sensitive bud.

Enzo cried out as he felt you clench around him, his own body tensing as a rush of pleasure rushed through him. He let out another guttural groan as his release followed right behind yours, shooting his seed deep inside you before his hips jerked forward one final time.

Mattheo's thrust soon became even more erratic and sloppy, his body meeting yours with heavy gasps. His teeth sunk back into the skin of your shoulder as he rode out his high. Panting in pleasure, his hands pulled you back against his chest.

You slumped against him, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes. Your chest ached as your heart beat frantically against your ribcage. You buried your face into the crook of Enzo's neck for a moment. Then you felt yourself being lifted off of Enzo's lap, Mattheo gently laying you down on the sofa next to the other boy.

Your boyfriend grabbed his wand, non-verbally casting a spell to clean the both of you up before sitting down himself and pulling you up onto his legs, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

"You can go now," he snapped at Enzo, who quickly scrambled to pull his pants back up and leave the room. You let out a soft laugh at his flustered expression, resting your head on Mattheo's chest.

Mattheo leaned down to press his lips to the top of your head, asking with a teasing tone, "Was this what you had in mind this morning?"

Mattheo + Enzo Taglist: @slytherinboysappreciation @urmomsgirlfriend1 @remussbitch @nighttimewrites @starsval @gillyweeds @sir-elian @harryslittlebitch @thatblackthorn @gayforyelena @whoreforfictionalmen18 @darkacademicvibes @marauderswhxre @ravenclawprincess33 @sbrn0905 @atadoddinnit @helpimhopelesslyinlove @carav4l

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meowmeowriley · 2 months

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We all love a good feral Ghost who doesn't know what affection is or how to show it, but what about:

Ghost, who is the kindest and most giving human being there is. He freely gives encouragement, compliments his friends and allies regularly. You need someone to drop everything and help you move house at a moment's notice and you just happen to be his neighbor? He's helping you. You've passed each other in the hall like three times and need someone to help you study for a test you're dreading? Say less. You've never spoken to one another but you found this abandoned kitten and don't know what to do? This mountain of a man materializes behind you to talk you through it, or take it off your hands if it's too much. Ghost, who would give the shirt off his back to someone so long as they weren't labeled a target.

But also Ghost, who doesn't know how to take a compliment. Who squirms when people tell him he's done a good job, who's skin crawls when people tell him they enjoy his company. God forbid someone tell him he's a good man. It makes him want to rip out his hair, to scream, to correct them. Because he's not a good man, he's not. He knows it, and he doesn't know why others don't see it too. He's a rotten, shitty, evil man. He's got too much of his father in him, he's tainted. He hates himself.

Which is why, when Soap moves one step closer Ghost is sprinting as far and as fast as he can from the other man. Because Soap won't stop trying to get Ghost to see himself the way Soap sees him, and Ghost would rather die than delude himself into thinking that he deserves love from a man like Soap.

#call of duty #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #modern warfare #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #drabble #fic ideas

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heich0e · 2 months

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dinner is noisy. boisterous in a way that only a meal attended by more than a dozen young men can be.

drinks flow freely, insults and jab even more so, and every so often you have to shift in your seat to avoid an errant (albeit friendly) punch whose intended target is one of the other diners around you. you watch as the food around the table is shared from plate to plate, no one person left to only eat—or even properly keep track of—the dish they'd originally ordered off the menu. it's comfortable even in its rowdiness.

at your side, togame sips his drink leisurely, smiling into the brim as he watches choji and sakura squabbling across the table over something unimportant. he's drinking hot plum wine tonight, sweet and warm, a fitting drink for the cold temperatures outside but strangely out of place amongst everyone else's sakes and beers. jo doesn't mind being different, you know this about him. he doesn't seem to care much at all about what anyone else may think of his actions, or his choices, like he's totally unaware of their scrutiny.

you admire that part of him. sometimes you hate that part of him, too.

after most of the food has been cleared away, and the boys have stopped ordering more, all that's left on the table are mostly-drained drinks and empty plates. jo glances over at you when you shift into his side to avoid one of hiiragi's elbows on your left. he smiles down at you softly as you use this opportunity to press yourself against him.

"tired?" he asks you, his voice low and smooth and comforting amongst the chaos around you.

you nod a bit. you enjoy spending time with the boys, but it's late, and you can't deny that the excitement can be draining.

"i'll walk you home," jo says. he doesn't ask, and he likely wouldn't accept any argument to the contrary—but you don't put up any fight, in either case.

and so you and the dark haired man find yourself out in the chilly, early-winter night, walking side by side in the direction of your nearby apartment. a familiar, easy silence stretches between you—the only sound to be heard are your footsteps on the pavement and the occasional rumbling of the cars that drive past. you blow into your fingers to help fight against the cold, and wordlessly jo slips his coat from his shoulders and plunks it down over your own.

you peek at him from the corner of your eye as you hold the warm material a little tighter around your frame. his face is turned up into the cool night air, an easy, content smile on his lips.

"togame-san," you call to him lightly. his brow draws up as he looks to you, as though surprised by how you address him. you've called him by his given name before, and he's seemed to like that, but somehow you just never know if it's the right time. the right place.

there's so much about him that you question at times like this.

you stop walking, stilling on the sidewalk as your stride comes to a halt. the man before you does the same, though half a step later than yourself, and when he turns to you it means you're face to face.

"jo," you try again, and you see the way it makes the edge of his mouth tick upwards. you lose your confidence, looking off down the dark street instead of meeting the warmth of his gaze. "we.... are we...."

your nose scrunches up in frustration as the words fail to appear at the tip of your tongue, even in spite of your best efforts.

"are we...?" he tries to urge you to continue, but it only frustrates you more.

you haven't seen much of jo lately. he started working at his uncle's construction company after he graduated high school. you saw each other on a somewhat regular basis while you finished up your own studies, but you went off to college just after that, and since then the time the two of you have spent together has been infrequent.

jo takes your hand, slipping his own underneath the cover of his coat drapped over your shoulders when he spots how you have them balled up into fists at your sides. his touch is warm against your cold skin.

it softens you a bit. makes your anger melt.

you look up at him and blink away the stinging feeling in your eyes as you meet his curious gaze.

"are we dating?"

jo looks uncharacteristically shocked by your question, his usually half-lidded eyes widening in surprise.

"aw, geez..." he says, punctuating the words with a breathy laugh that slips from his lips in a cloud of vapour. the hand he has around your own tightens it's grip, and his other comes up to ruffle against the undercut at the back of his head as he stares up at the night sky. when he tilts his chin down again to meet your gaze, his eyes are apologetic. "i messed up, didn't i?"

you're confused by his question. it's not what you're expecting, and all at once, dread seeps through your veins. have you misunderstood his feelings all this time? has this thing between you been casual after all? had those nights the two of you spent together, the way he's touched you and let you touch him, meant something different to him all along? meant nothing to him?

you shrink back a little, attempting to slip your hand from his hold.

he doesn't let you.

"hey," he says, a bit of desperation in his voice as he tightens his hold on your hand and meets your retreat with a step forward to close the gap, "don't do that."

his eyes scan your face, like he's looking for an answer in the lines of your features. like he's looking for a map to guide his next steps in your gaze. he gives up after a moment, sighing deeply and slumping forward as he wraps his arms around your shoulders and tugs you into his chest.

"i messed up," he mutters into your hair as he holds you close.

you're confused. none of this has gone the way you'd expected it, and your first question still hangs in the evening air around you unanswered. but you let him hold you, anyway. you don't know what waits for you when he finally pulls away, so you're happy to stay like that for as long as he'll allow it.

jo whispers your name as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. it's beseeching the way he says it. sweeter than the plum wine that still clings to his lips.

"i like you."

your heartbeat rattles in your chest.

"i like you so much."

you're too stunned to answer him, your fingers reaching out and twisting into the soft material of his top over his chest.

"'m sorry i didn't say that sooner," he speaks again, finally pulling away so he can look at you properly as he says it. "i just thought you knew."

your pulse is pounding in your ears as he stares down at you, your breath caught in your too-tight throat.

"i'm a really awful guy." jo's shoulder's droop in defeat. "can't believe i didn't tell you that before now. can't believe i let you worr—"

you tilt your face up towards him, your lips brushing the edge of his own—cutting him off mid-sentence.

jo shudders into the kiss, turning his face so he can meet your mouth properly. your hands are still twisted into the cotton of his shirt, but he uses the edges of his coat to tug you further forward into him and bring you closer. kiss you deeper.

this time, when jo takes you home—stumbling in though the doorway in a frenzied eddy of wanting and being wanted—you don't have any doubt about what all the ways he touches you mean.

#togame jo x reader #togame x reader #wb drabble #wb writing #writing

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redtsundere-writes · 2 months

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Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 12: Apprentices

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 4881 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

Your gaze fixed on the target. The curse holding it was walking from side to side in a straight line as it mocked your poor aim. Practicing with the curses still wreck your nerves as not being used to seeing them as equals. They were supernatural beings that killed humans for hunger or simple fun, the main enemy in your universe. They were grotesque, mean and rude to all servants, constantly threatening that they would have been eaten already if it wasn't for King Sukuna. He is the one who decides when and how much the curses under his charge eat. Living in the castle of the great man-eating tyrant was like a rabbit living in a cage with hundreds of tigers.

Your arms tensed as you drew the bowstring taut. The feather at the end of the arrow tickled your fingers, tempting them to let go. It was your first time practicing with moving targets. You took a deep breath before your fingers let go of the string. The arrow swam like a salmon against the current until it stuck against the top of the target’s perimeter. You lowered the bow with an exasperated sigh.

“It was a good shot,” Kenjaku, who was supervising today’s training, cheered you on as he applauded your attempt.

“I don't need it to be good, I need it to be perfect,” you took another arrow out of the quiver.

You loaded the weapon and looked for the easiest target to hit from your position, noticing the curse approaching the center of your field of vision. You reviewed the advice Sukuna had given you in your previous lessons. As you remembered his soft purr against your ear, his beefy body next to yours, his breath against your cheek and his hands covering yours. He always caused you to lose your concentration, sabotaging your attempts to focus by projecting memories of their times together into your mind. You were beginning to miss him as your teacher.

It had been a couple of weeks since Sukuna told you that Yorozu would be his new sorcerer's apprentice. You faked surprise even though you had overheard their conversation and you were dying of worry inside. Your head was filled with all the possible scenarios where everything could go wrong. Being the older sister, your priority was to protect Yorozu at any cost. You had to make sure she ate well, slept in a comfortable place and that Sukuna didn't kill her at the slightest provocation. Luckily, you could watch your little sister practice her new skills from the library window while you studied. You had to be careful, though. If Kenjaku caught you distracted, he would hit you over the head with whatever he had in his hand to get your attention back.

You found Yorozu's powers fascinating. From what little you had picked up of her cursed technique, she could recreate any object she knew. Sukuna began her training by showing her the various weapons in his possession for her to recreate with the help of her cursed energy. They then went on to observe various insects and birds to test if she could recreate animal materials. She could. You almost fainted the first time you saw her grow a pair of firefly wings between her shoulder blades. She was getting more powerful every day and it scared you.

Even though Yorozu was emasculating and foolish, Sukuna could not afford to waste her abilities. A sorceress with a technique so powerful that she was willing to serve him was good, too good to be true. During her lessons, he had dedicated himself to analyzing her movements and every word she uttered to decipher what she wanted from him. He knew that human interactions are based on transactions. Communication, buying and selling, democracy, almost everything they have built is based on I give you something so that you give me something in return. Yorozu could appear to be happy serving him, but he knew perfectly well that it was a facade to get something.

You hated the idea of Sukuna being close to your sister. It bothered you to see them so close when the king was correcting her posture when it came to wielding a sword or inspecting her new creations. The thought of him taking advantage of her or hurting her in any way drove you crazy. You didn't want her to go through what you went through in your early days at the castle. Psychological, physical and verbal humiliation from a tyrant was something you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy, much less your little sister. Luckily, it didn't seem to be like that... for now. If Sukuna even thought of laying a finger on her, you'd make him pay.

The very thought of him being near her at all times, of him holding her hip, or of his voice being as gentle as it was with you caused you a discomfort you had never felt before. The next thing you knew, your fingers were no longer holding the arrow. The arrow flew along with your dark thoughts. You barely realized what you were feeling. Your body froze for a second until the arrow slammed into the head of the curse holding the target.

The curse staggered from the impact, but quickly regained its balance and yanked the foreign object out of its skull. You were shocked to see what you had done. You hurt a curse that was helping you. When you were about to apologize for your terrible mistake, the curse growled at you in annoyance as its skull regenerated by its reverse curse technique. It looked at you with a "If you do that again, I'm going to kill you" face. It was only restrained by the fact that Sukuna had ordered them not to mess with you.

“That one wasn't so bad,” Kenjaku smiled at you so you wouldn't feel bad about hurting someone by accident.

“I didn't mean to,” you replied sadly.

“A little more meaning and you'll be ready to kill someone,” Kenjaku joked, but you didn't laugh. The fact that he saw death as a joke bothered you, but you had learned to tolerate it. “Let's take a break, what do you say?” Your teacher changed the subject immediately upon noticing your discomfort.

You took off your quiver and gloves while your teacher told the curses to take a break. As we reached the coldest days of winter, Sukuna had gotten you a fur cloak so you could practice outdoors without dying of hypothermia. You put on the plush hat and wrapped yourself in the cloak as if it were a blanket. It wasn't that cold today, but the material was so soft you just wanted to rub your face on it.

You laid the equipment on the table as you watched Kenjaku carefully. He was a strange creature. Even though you knew he was a body invaded by a curse, you weren't afraid of him like Sukuna or Uraume. It helped that he had the body of a really attractive man. His long dark hair reminded you of the same night you see through the window. His traditional clothes were always ironed and moved delicately. His sharp, yet radiant eyes were what caught your attention the most, they looked full of life for someone dead.

“Tell me about yourself,” you asked him as if you were asking him to tell you a bedtime story.

“What do you want to know?” Kenjaku asked you, turning his attention back to you.

“Whose body are you possessing?”

“Don't you recognize it?” Your master raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Should I?” He let out a loud laugh.

“Right. Sometimes I forget that you come from humble beginnings.” He loved to emphasize to you the abysmal difference in class between you. “The person in front of you is King Suguru Geto.”

You knew that name perfectly. Like King Satoru, he was a highly sought-after king among the nation's single women. After the death of King Geto, his handsome son had to take over the kingdom earlier than planned. He was rumored to be a kind-hearted, powerful man and had a brilliant mind as the only kingdom to have a direct relationship with the Gojo kingdom. Your mother went on and on about how much she wanted one of her daughters to marry him. You could only shake your head at her delusions. "As if we could get close to him" you thought amusedly.

“Is this man King Suguru Geto?” You asked, still trying to process that you were in front of the corpse of a king.

“It was,” Kenjaku said with a mocking smile.

“Did you kill him?” You asked even more surprised.

When King Suguru was killed, the news spread like wildfire among the villages. All you knew was that he was found dead of poisoning on the morning of the fifth anniversary of his coronation. His death had become quite a mystery, as he had no enemy kingdoms and was in good health the night before.

“I wish. I took over his body before they wanted to revive him,” Kenjaku replied.

“It is a pity that you died, your majesty,” you said as you bowed to him.

“There is no need to call me that, miss. Suguru Geto died years ago,” Kenjaku clarified, uncomfortably, at the bow.

“I believe the bodies are sacred. It’s the temple we live with all our lives and it is the memory we leave of our existence,” you explained. “Humans deserve respect, even if they are no longer here.”

You learned that when your father died. Your mother was so deep in her mourning that she didn't even want to get out of bed for the small funeral they had planned. You and Yorozu were the ones in charge of burying your father with tears falling on the ground, while Nanako and Mimiko picked flowers to place on his grave. The weight on your heart did not compare to the weight of the incomplete body as they placed him in his makeshift coffin, a wooden box they had built with rusty nails.

Your father passed away one night on his way home from work. He was walking through the tall grasses under the dark sky, excited to get home to see his family. The night was so dark that he never saw the group of curses stalking behind him coming. They pounced on him and did not hesitate to eat him alive. According to neighbors who lived nearby, the cries of pain and pity were so loud that they woke them up. When the neighbors arrived with torches and guns, your father was no longer breathing.

Your poor father was missing his legs, arms and part of his torso, but still, they moved his body carefully as if he were whole. Despite his tragic and unexpected death, your father deserved a decent funeral even though they didn't have much money. Among his entire family, they placed the coffin in the grave they had dug while a neighbor sang a ballad about his life. His wife and daughters did not keep their feelings in the minute of silence. Maybe he wasn’t the most brilliant, rich nor exceptional man, but he will be missed and they won't forget about him.

“Humans and curses have something in common,” Kenjaku approached you so you could look him in the eye. “Our bodies may rot and turn to dust, but our souls always live on.”

“Really?” You asked.

“I assure you,” Kenjaku took your cheek to caress it with his thumb in an attempt to comfort you.

Even though Sukuna was a ridiculously giant curse, he was a master of vigilance. Unbeknownst to you, he was always watching you. Whether it was with his own eyes or through one of his curses, he knew what you were doing and with whom every moment of the day. Today was no exception. He clenched his fist as he saw how close Kenjaku was to you. They should be practicing as he had instructed, not fondling you in broad daylight. Luckily, you had arrived at the right time to stop him. He walked out of the castle with Yorozu following him like a well-behaved duckling to where they were to stop the scene.

“Why the fuck aren't you practicing?” Sukuna scolded Kenjaku with a fierce roar. Seeing him, he and you bowed at his arrival.

“She had been practicing for an hour. Rest is important so as not to wear out the muscles of humans,” Kenjaku explained without a weight of guilt. Sukuna looked at you, there was no trace of guilt on your face either. "I'll let it go this time," he thought in annoyance.

“Sister, look at the dress the king got me! Isn't it pretty?” Yorozu approached you.

She opened the black cloak that covered her from the cold to show the white dress that Sukuna had commissioned Uraume to make for her practices. It had long sleeves, tied at the waist with a long ribbon and the skirt came below her knees so she could move freely. It wasn't as elegant or complicated as yours, but it was better than the maid's uniform.

“It is very nice. Our king has very good taste,” you said as you saw your sister happy about her new garment.

Yorozu has loved dresses for as long as you can remember. The delicate fabric, the pretty beading, the interesting designs and how the skirt moves on the dance floors. You remembered the birthday when your father gave her a set of crayons that was incomplete, she got so excited that she started running and screaming all over the house. Since then, you used to see her sitting at the small desk you shared, drawing her own designs. She was the reason her mother spent money on dresses. Yorozu would promise her that if she bought her one, she would flirt with the richest man at the ball. She never did, playing with her mother’s narcissist feelings.

“The king told me that if I behave well, I can have a dress as beautiful as yours. Isn't that right, my king?” Yorozu said before returning to Sukuna to hug him by the arm.

Your left eye twitched when she approached him with such confidence. You could never do something like that, afraid the king would take it the wrong way. You didn't understand how Yorozu could be so trusting as to act so naturally.

“I'll get you one when you prove you deserve it,” Sukuna said reluctantly because she was touching him without his permission.

Training Yorozu turned out to be more complicated than he thought it would be. She was a completely different girl from you, more so than he thought. She was shrill, distracted, and sometimes more cloying than chocolate ice cream. You wanted to push her against the ground like you used to, but this time you held back the urge because you were right in front of them. Yorozu squealed with delight at the response.

“Today I want Yorozu to learn how to use a bow,” Sukuna explained. “I want you to show me how much you have learned in this time that I have not been training you.” He turned to you, that only made you feel more nervous.

“I think it's an excellent idea. The best method of study is teaching,” Kenjaku commented.

“This is going to be so much fun!” Yorozu squealed excitedly. You just nodded complacently.

The first stage of the training was for Yorozu to create her own archery equipment. This would be of great help to them in the future. In case you were in the middle of an invasion, the moment you ran out of arrows, Yorozu could create more easily. She took your bow to examine it closely. Her black eyes examined its elements and details with utmost care, memorizing each part to perfection. Her hands molded to the wooden body and her fingers felt the thickness of the string. You had never seen Yorozu so focused in your life.

She handed the bow back to you to generate her own from her own hands. It was the first time you had seen her power at such close quarters. The wood, the strong string and the feathers of the arrows began to emerge from a strange energy emanating from her. It was a wonderful power if it could create anything. She could fix what was broken or help those in need. There were endless possibilities that Yorozu had at her fingertips. It was a shame that she had decided to use her power to hurt others.

Your sister ended up with a stronger and sturdier bow than yours that she had customized herself. The wood looked of better quality and the arrows had purple feathers to distinguish them from yours, which were white. Yorozu showed the king her new creation with a proud smile. You may not have agreed that she would fight for the king, but the important thing was that she was happy.

The afternoon passed slowly as you taught Yorozu everything you had learned so far. You taught her the correct T-position, how to release the arrow correctly and how to hit as close to the center as possible. Sukuna and Kenjaku were watching from a considerable distance, they could hear all the advice that both of them had given you in the last weeks.

Sukuna was proud that you had really memorized everything he had taught you. He was beginning to see the leader within you come to the surface. Just as he had planned, but this was only the beginning. There were many more things you had to learn. All at its time.

After an hour of basic archery class, Yorozu was ready to aim on her own. She loaded the bow, held the arrow in a T-position and looked at the target as you had taught her. She released the arrow with force and missed the target. She missed once, twice, three... so many times to the point that she got fed up and broke the bow in half with the help of her knee. Kenjaku looked at her in grief, while Sukuna grabbed his forehead in disappointment. You approached your sister to calm her down.

“Take it easy. It's a skill that takes practice,” you told her with a smile to cheer her up, just like Kenjaku sometimes did with you.

“I need motivation.” Yorozu said before creating another bow with her cursed technique. That's when she got a great idea. “Let's hold a competition. Whoever hits the target closest wins.” She encouraged you. This sparked the interest of the teachers that were looking at them.

“Sounds like fun,” You told her excitedly. This would be like playing with her again like they used to do when you were kids.

“Let's bet something to make it more interesting,” Yorozu said excitedly.

“I like that idea.” You thought of something you wanted from her. “If I win, I want you to give me a foot massage,” you told her with a wicked little smile.

“Ew, gross.”

Sukuna smiled to himself to see you laughing and joking like that. It was a side he never thought he would see up close. Being a large, carnivorous curse, those below him on the food chain feared him with good reason. He was so used to seeing you cry, suffer and beg for your lives that he had forgotten that you can also rejoice, thrill and be passionate. I had completely forgotten that you were once a free girl with a say who tells jokes, plays with her sisters and enjoys cooking for her family. He would like to see you more like that, to be the real you without being afraid of him.

Unfortunately, if Sukuna wanted to achieve his goals, he had to keep your leash short. You had to be the perfect wife so that you would become the perfect mother that his future heir would need to become a strong leader. There was no time for the foolish things humans like to do. Sukuna's face returned to its serious countenance.

“But if I win..." Yorozu thought out loud until she hyper-focused on what you were wearing. “I want your dress.” She dared you with her dark eyes.

You weren't sure you could do that. Underneath your fur cloak, there was a sky blue dress with beautiful gems encrusted on the chest that flowed down to the skirt. It was one of the dresses Sukuna had given you. You couldn't give away something as precious as that.

“The king gave it to me. I can't give it to you, choose another prize,” you said to Yorozu while looking at Sukuna.

“Oh, come on! I've seen you wear seven different dresses in the last week! I don't think our dear king will mind if you give me one, right?” Yorozu looked at Sukuna with sad puppy dog eyes.

You really liked that dress. It was the one that best accentuated your body of all the ones you had. It had hanging sleeves that allowed you to archery comfortably. All the other dresses were nice, but that one was your favorite. You looked at Sukuna as if you were asking him to say no.

“Bet it,” Sukuna finally spoke. You and Kenjaku were surprised at how easily he had agreed.

“You are the best, my king!” Yorozu shouted happily. “Let's begin.” She shook your hand to start the competition.

Being the one who had been practicing the longest, you went first. You saw the still target 50 meters away from you. You took a deep breath as you got into position. It was perfect. You pulled the arrow all the way under your chin. It was perfect. Your fingertips barely tensed the string as you drew the invisible trajectory. It would be a perfect shot. You could feel it. Finally, you released the string and the arrow traveled at full speed until it hit the top perimeter of the yellow center. It was as close as you've ever come to hitting the bullseye.

“Good job, miss!” Kenjaku congratulated you as he clapped like a proud father. Sukuna just analyzed the target. It wasn't a perfect shot, but it was very close to it.

“Not bad,” Yorozu said competitively as he positioned himself in front of the target. “Now watch and learn,” She smiled wickedly. She was up to something.

She placed the arrow on the bow and did exactly what you did. Everything rigorously as you had dictated during the lesson. You analyzed what she did in case you could give her any advice. Yorozu was confident that she would win. Once she had the center in her sights, she made the arrow and bow increase in size under her fingers with the help of her technique. You recoiled as you noticed the drastic change. Unable to cope with the new weight of your weapon, she released the arrow to lower the bow as quickly as possible. You followed the arrow's journey with your eyes as your mouth opened at the tremendous impact, destroying the straw target completely.

“Well, I think there is a clear winner,” Yorozu looked at you with malice.

“It's not fair. You used your technique,” you said annoyed.

“You never forbade me,” Yorozu declared. “Now, don't be a sore loser and give me my prize.” She raised her hand to you.

“Now?!” You groaned as you slammed your cloak shut. Yorozu nodded energetically.

The blush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks. It was embarrassing, but you had accepted the deal. It hurt to give up that dress, but at least Yorozu would have something nice to wear, just like you. You closed the cloak and reached for the ribbons that tied it behind your back to get rid of the dress that wrapped around you. Luckily you were wearing a corset and a white bottom, so you wouldn't be naked. You jumped out of the dress and gave it to her.

“Yay!” Yorozu shouted excitedly.

She yanked off her white dress, revealing that she was completely naked underneath. Kenjaku and you watched in horror, while Sukuna simply looked away. He really hated to see her naked during practice, so he forced her to at least put on a haori.

“Why aren't you wearing any underwear!” You scolded her, embarrassed.

“Why are you wearing underwear?” Yorozu asked, playing it down as she put on the new dress.

She pulled the dress up from the neckline and then put on the sleeves. She tied it in the back as best she could on her own and modeled it to her sister. It fit her...just fit her. She didn't quite fill out the bust, the sleeves swam, and it was tight around her waist. Some parts were tight, while others were too big. She could wear it, but it just didn't look right.

“How do I look, my king? Don't I look beautiful?” Yorozu asked Sukuna as he modeled the dress for her. He analyzed her for a second.

“I ordered that dress especially for your sister, it is custom made for her,” Sukuna explained when he saw that it did not fill the bust. “It is unique and unrepeatable," Sukuna said as he looked at you.

You closed the cloak over your chest at those words. Even though you knew he was talking about the dress, a part of you wanted to think that he was dedicating those words to you. Your cheeks reddened at the thought of something out of your imagination. Kenjaku noticed your embarrassment and thought you were embarrassed about being in too little clothing. Quickly, he approached you.

“Put this on, miss," he said as he took off his yukata.

You blushed more when you saw the splendid body the late king was hiding. Slim, but well-defined arms, smooth biceps and abs you could carve clothes on. Your lips parted slightly in shock. This was your first time seeing a shirtless man.

Sukuna was annoyed at the scene he was seeing. Kenjaku was too close to you again, too close for his liking. "Is this how he usually treats her when I'm not around? I should increase my vigilance," he wondered as he watched the scene with disdain.

As Kenjaku was about to put the yukata over your shoulders, his arms came off his body in the blink of an eye. You were stunned for a second before you could comprehend what on earth had happened. Your mind was awakened when you heard the thud of his arms crashing against the grass, still holding the yukata. Sukuna approached you, pushing Kenjaku by the torso away from you.

He picked up the garment and draped it over your shoulders. You didn't know what to say about it. Sometimes his actions lacked logic and you found it hard to understand. His thick, clawed fingers brushed against your skin as he helped you tuck your arms into the sleeves. His hands traveled gently to your waist to tie the bow that closed the yukata. He was acting like a fairy tale prince...well, minus the fact that he cut off someone's arms to do it. You could only thank him with a whisper that only he could hear.

Yorozu squeezed the skirt of her dress tightly, not intending to hide her jealousy. Why was Sukuna treating the woman who didn't want to marry him so tenderly? It wasn't fair. If she had arrived at the castle earlier, he would be in love with her, not you.

Kenjaku watched the scene intently as his arms slowly regenerated. On one hand, he had a spoiled sister who wanted the king's attention. On the other hand, he had the sister who had no idea what was going on. And last but not least, a jealous king who hasn't realized he's jealous. “I think I can do something about this,” he thought.

“Training is over today,” Sukuna grumbled before walking back to the castle at a quick pace to pretend nothing had happened, leaving you with your heart in your hand.

“Yes, my king,” Yorozu, Kenjaku and you said at the same time along with a farewell bow, each in their own world of thoughts.

“Sis, I’ll give you your dress back for a foot massage,” Yorozu told you reluctantly once Sukuna entered the castle.

“Deal,” you said with a smile, happy to have the dress you loved so much back.

“Shit, shit, shit…” Sukuna scolded himself as he walked through the castle halls, hiding his reddish face in shame for letting his emotions get the better of him. It was a good thing the servants feared him, because he didn’t want to talk to anyone. He locked himself in his office with a slam and leaned back in his chair. If he closed his eyes, he could still see your eyes looking up at him in disbelief as he felt your warm skin beneath his cloak. He brushed his hair back in exasperation. “What the fuck is going on?” he thought.

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mollbabe · 8 months

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celebrating palestinian science

in the face of israels' targetting of scholars, scientists and intellectuals...

saw a tumblr post by @/anarchistfrogposting that got me heavythinking about the relevance of language and culture in chemistry and science, it's unfortunate english has been accepted as its' lingua franca and most other input is lost to the globalization of this change. formulae and structure are essential and in a subject so specific, the average chemist will need to memorize hundreds of chemistry-specific words, and it becomes a barrier past entry when direct translating gets murky. deconstructing the history of science will always lead to political waters as the politicization of science and populist anti-intellectualism ethos rooted itself since the beginning of the study and these implicit biases result in a lack of consensus amongst borders.

before wwi the geographical spread of language in science was much more diverse, a lot of french and german researchers were common in research publishing, but after the allies established new scientific institutions that excluded germans and the isolationist decades that followed suit, foreign-language education was reductionist and excised globally as a result of elitism, being a language considered spoken only 'by the educated'. english-language proficiency is undeniably a prerequisite when an inexaggerated count of 99% of natural science papers are published in english, starting since 2015. this is a /heavily/ debated and discoursed topic and is terribly intimidating to sink your teeth into because of globalization of english and the complexity of modern language but getting over this hurdle will blossom a culturally rich rabbit hole to go down and it is all super interesting. there is so much great palestinian scientific practices, not as in western scientists work imagined in palestinian hands, but palestinian-born theories and practices. i think it's really integral, to always, but especially during times like these to uplift the people of palestine and their beauty just as much as funnel hatred toward their oppressors and murderers.

[image ID: a lineup of various glass pots and vases, ranging in color and size, placed in front of a plain background. end]

this is a specific sort of glass called 'hebron glass' which is an extremely renowned palestinian practice and passed down traditionally through multiple families and businesses. dating back as far as the 100~s in BCE, their technique of glassblowing was far ahead of their time and not used commonly anywhere else until much further in BCE. the /exact/ practice of hebron glass is kept a family secret amongst palestinian businesses, but a metal tool called 'kammasha' is used to blow the glass. a palestinian artisan talks about the process in more length here, i would recommend doing extended reading directly from palestine:

the colors are so vibrant and beautiful, i am endlessly impressed by how elegant these pieces have been made since the middle ages. these pieces and techniques have inspired a lot of famous modern day forms of glassblowing and glass artistry, most notably the venetian glass of venice.

i include this under science as much as it is art because it often goes unseen how much temperature and calculation goes into this craft. its highly skilled and intense work to bend over the hot flames and handle the glass in such a vulnerable state that could easily shatter. the material is more than 1800F and the palestinian kammasha is very carefully timed.

[image ID: an online video call meeting titled 'School on Synchrotron Light Sources and their Applications' at the top. end]

what you're looking at right now is the SESAME initiative run by the international centre for theoretical physics. a famous alumnus of this school was sufyan tayeh, a palestinian scientist. he was a prominent researcher and mentor and advocate for international understanding through science, introducing: SESAME, an alternative vision for the future of peaceful coexistence and cooperation and offered a meeting point around the globe to speak the common language of science, making communication possible. sufyan tayeh was an inspiration and bridge builder for all of these young students and an entry point for future scientists. he was a winner of multiple awards for his contributions to science and was appointed chair man for UNESCO (united nations educational, scientific and cultural organization) and head of physical, astrophysical and space sciences in palestine. he was regarded as a leading researched in science and applied mathematics globally, and tragically was killed in the current genocide. this is one case of many, many palestinian researchers. the impact of their contributions are insurmountable and irreplaceable.

[image ID: a list documenting the 45 palestinian scholars killed by israel since october 7th: Sufian Tayeh, Mohammad Eid Shubair, Omar Ferwana, Taysir Ibrahim, Ibrahim Hamed, Naeim Baroud, Azou Afana, Mohammad Bakhit, Mahmoud Abu Daf, Salem Abu Mukhda, Mohammad Abu Asaad, Osama Al-Muzayni, Refaat Al-Areer, Wael Al-Zard, Ismail Abu Saada, Khaled Al-Ramlawi, Mohammad Al-Najjar, Saeed Al-Dahshan, Raed Qudura, Mohammad Abu Zour, Yousseff Jameh Salameh, Nidaa Afana, Moumen Shweidah, Saeed Al-Zabdeh, Saqid Nasaar, Ahmed Abu Saada, Mohammad Jameel Al-Zaaneen, Ismail Al-Ghamari, Razq Ali Arouq, Walid Al-Amoudi, Abdullah Al-Amoudi, Hassan Al-Radi, Mohammand Abu Amara, Mohammad Al-Louh, Khaled Al-Najjar, Sharif Al-Asli, Mohammad Hassouneh, Yassar Hdeib Ridwan, Jihad Al-Baz, Hazem Al-Jamali, Nasser Al-Yafaoui, and Jihad Al-Masri. end]

the fabric gauze was also invented in palestine. if you've ever stepped foot in a labratory, you will know what this is lol. used in surgery and in chemical labs for multiple functions: separating liquids and gases, strain acids from bases, filter substances at extreme temperatures, prevent contamination, and to treat water. it is also used to diffuse heat and help protect glassware, seriously, these guys influence in glassware was HUGE. i think glass would still be sand without palestinian input.

i've set this post just up as a basis summary of the sciences, i would love to give an add-on going more indepth into the scientific process of some examples i gave and also in the history of palestinian scholars listed above.. when i get the time! but i hope this was an apt introduction! may good things come in 2024. feel free to recommend things i should check out or correct. OH OH also there is a lot of palestinian sci-fi.. 'divine intervention' and 'the second war of the dog' are both good, iirc they won the international prize for arabic fiction. just random things i found while looking up things for this post haha but they're good

#free palestine #ceasefire now #chemistry #science #long post #VERY LONG POST

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the-modern-typewriter · 10 months

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May I request a supervillian x villian where the villian begs the supervillian to let them go save their sidekick.

"Don't," the supervillain said, warning.

The villain's fingers curled, nails digging into the end of the armchair. The soft material was threadbare from years of them digging their claws in watching the news, from reason or another, but they'd never...

"I promised I'd protect them," the villain said.

"It's a trap."

"I have to go. I promised."

"And I promised I'd protect you." The supervillain stopped behind them, a looming shadow. It felt icy cold where their shadow fell, raising the hair on the villain's arms. It didn't frighten them though.

"Then protect my heart." It was a whisper.

The supervillain's fingers curled around the villain's throat, tilting their attention away from the corporate horror on the screen and onto the supervillain. Even knowing that their sidekick was in trouble, knowing that every second they sat there was a day where their sidekick could be hurting, they couldn't help but focus on the supervillain.

They were like that. They absorbed everything, whether the villain wanted it to or not.

The supervillain stroked their thumb over the villain's pulse, forcibly slowing it, calming it.

The villain exhaled a broken breath.

"Please," they said again, even as they sagged against the chair, fists unspooling.

"Say you pull this off, say you get them back without getting yourself caught." The supervillain's head tilted, studying them. "Do you think it won't happen again?"

The villain swallowed.

"Loving anything too fiercely in this game is a weakness." The supervillain's eyes blistered into them. "If you go, all it proves is that your sidekick is a target they can hit and hit and hit again until it either no longer gets a reaction from you or there's nothing left. It saves nothing. It protects nothing. Do you understand?"

It made sense. The villain knew that it made sense, but everything inside of them still screamed.

The supervillain's grip tightened a fraction, biting.

The villain's air stuttered.

"Please," they said again. "I'm - I'm asking."

"That's not what you're doing."

"I'm begging. Please."

It was all they could say. There was no logic to the decision, no grand strategic argument. They could say that not going made their enemies believe they could do what they want, take what they want, without consequence, but...

The supervillain sighed. They leaned down to press a kiss atop the villain's head, letting go of the villain's throat.

"No," the supervillain said.

The villain's stomach bottomed out. It crumpled. It compacted, roiling, like so much garbage. Their vision swam as they gasped.

"I said I'd protect you," the supervillain said. "You're not going anywhere." They straightened, battle-gear shrouding them in an instant, transforming them from the villain's sometimes-lover to something else entirely. "I'll take care of this."

The villain twisted, eyes wide.

The villain returned an agonising two hours later, with the villain's sidekick terrified in tow.

The villain stood.

The sidekick flung themselves into the villain's arms, clinging to them for dear life, shaking all over.

The villain met the supervillain's gaze above their sidekick's shoulder, taking in the blood splattered their armour; none of the supervillain's own. They wrapped their arms slowly around their sidekick.

The supervillain smiled, full of teeth.

"The only proper reaction to someone finding a weakness, love," they said, "is to obliterate them. Don't let this happen again."

Then, once again, they were gone.

#villain x villain #villain x supervillain #supervillains #villains #writing #story #short story #creative writing #writeblr

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reasonsforhope · 2 months

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"A team at Northwestern University has come up with the term “dancing molecules” to describe an invention of synthetic nanofibers which they say have the potential to quicken the regeneration of cartilage damage beyond what our body is capable of.

The moniker was coined back in November 2021, when the same team introduced an injection of these molecules to repair tissues and reverse paralysis after severe spinal cord injuries in mice.

Now they’ve applied the same therapeutic strategy to damaged human cartilage cells. In a new study, published in the Journal of the American Chemical Society, the treatment activated the gene expression necessary to regenerate cartilage within just four hours.

And, after only three days, the human cells produced protein components needed for cartilage regeneration, something humans can’t do in adulthood.

The conceptual mechanisms of the dancing molecules work through cellular receptors located on the exterior of the cell membrane. These receptors are the gateways for thousands of compounds that run a myriad of processes in biology, but they exist in dense crowds constantly moving about on the cell membrane.

The dancing molecules quickly form synthetic nanofibers that move according to their chemical structure. They mimic the extracellular matrix of the surrounding tissue, and by ‘dancing’ these fibers can keep up with the movement of the cell receptors. By adding biological signaling receptors, the whole assemblage can functionally move and communicate with cells like natural biology.

“Cellular receptors constantly move around,” said Northwestern Professor of Materials Sciences Samuel Stupp, who led the study. “By making our molecules move, ‘dance’ or even leap temporarily out of these structures, known as supramolecular polymers, they are able to connect more effectively with receptors.”

The target of their work is the nearly 530 million people around the globe living with osteoarthritis, a degenerative disease in which tissues in joints break down over time, resulting in one of the most common forms of morbidity and disability.

“Current treatments aim to slow disease progression or postpone inevitable joint replacement,” Stupp said. “There are no regenerative options because humans do not have an inherent capacity to regenerate cartilage in adulthood.”

In the new study, Stupp and his team looked to the receptors for a specific protein critical for cartilage formation and maintenance. To target this receptor, the team developed a new circular peptide that mimics the bioactive signal of the protein, which is called transforming growth factor beta-1 (TGFb-1).

Northwestern U. Press then reported that the researchers incorporated this peptide into two different molecules that interact to form supramolecular polymers in water, each with the same ability to mimic TGFb-1...

“With the success of the study in human cartilage cells, we predict that cartilage regeneration will be greatly enhanced when used in highly translational pre-clinical models,” Stupp said. “It should develop into a novel bioactive material for regeneration of cartilage tissue in joints.”

“We are beginning to see the tremendous breadth of conditions that this fundamental discovery on ‘dancing molecules’ could apply to,” Stupp said. “Controlling supramolecular motion through chemical design appears to be a powerful tool to increase efficacy for a range of regenerative therapies.”"

-via Good News Network, August 5, 2024

#nanotechnology #osteoarthritis #arthritis #medical news #science news #cell biology #molecular biology #cartilage #good news #hope

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flamingpudding · 1 year

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Sooo I had this idea most likely inspired by a bunch of other fanfics I read...

Follow up part: 2

Ghost kid in Gotham

The Beginning

So far Danny counted two times in his live that he had died or at least sort of remembered dying.

The first time he died, he had been eight and in an horrible turn of events was forced into a fight to death with his twin. All because Danny couldn't be like his brother. He couldn't kill, he continuously nearly fails his missions if it weren't for his twin finishing of targets that were supposed to be his. The league had seen him as the black sheep of the family. He was no assassin material yet his twin brother still protected and adored him. But then their grandfather saw how he became a weakness for the true heir. All because Danny couldn't get his shit together during one mission they were sent on together. Resulting in his twin sustaining an injury.

So Danny was sentenced to death in an obvious fight the entire league knew he could nore would ever want to win. The fight had drawn out his twin at least attempting to get him to fight back to show their family that he was worth keeping by showing his skills, even if Danny couldn't kill, he could still fight excellently. But Danny didn't play along, instead he let his brother kill him with the final blow. He didn't even bother attempting to dodge.

His first death had probably been very cruel towards his brother, but at least it meant that his twin, Damien would live on.

Though he didn't expect that right before his body could grow cold forever, that their mothers still had somewhat of a heart and dunked him into the pits and revive Danny the first time. (Only later through Clockwork did Danny learn that he had been dropped in a pit of contaminated ectoplasm which probably was also the reason he even survived - well sort of survived - his second death)

He did come out as a feral kid though he barely remembered his time at the Chicago Orphanage. His former parents the Fantons had told him that he had been a feral kid the first year they had him. Apparently for the longest time Jazz had been the only one that could touch let alone get in hugging distance of Danny without getting bitten. Jack liked to show off the bite marks as lovely memories his sweet little Danno gave him the first time he hugged eight years old Danny.

The second time he died, he had been 14 and to this day he still thinks that a dare was one of the dumbest things one could die from. Of course his adopted parents weren't normal. They were ecto-scientists, studying ghosts or rather ecto-entities. And of course they were treading the line of mad-scientists with an entire lap in the basement and ecto-weaponry laying out and about throughout the entire house.

So when his parents build a portal to punch their way into another dimension that didn't work his friends just had to dare him to get in there to take a photo - or had it been a video - of it.

Who would have guests that the on batten was inside the damn thing instead of outside and that his stumbling and catching himself on the damned button would just so happen to punch open that portal with him in the middle of it all.

Let him tell you, getting electrocuted was not a fun way to day, nor is getting revived yet again by ectoplasm that was spewing out of the portal and mixing with his DNA. At least he got some cool powers from that accident and did not go feral like he did the first time round.

Danny shuddered, imaging if he had gone feral back then with Phantoms powers. Good he truly would have been the menace Amity still couldn't decide if he was or not.

Either way that were the two time he counted in his death tolls so far. Of course there were a couple of other times. Like that one time Sam made a wish. But he didn't really count them since well they didn't have any sort of big change that followed them.

But right now. He was probably close to his third accounted death. Strapped to the table. His chest pretty much sliced open and he was pretty sure that one of the tubes on the table across the room still contained his liver his Mo- Maddie had taken out and the other his arm that had been cut off by Agent K to test his healing.

Well he should have known better than to let his sister convince him that his adoptive parents would turn on him. Looks like that with their working with the GIW and him on the table they had finally broken the last bits of trust both Jazz and him had in them.

Danny had long lost the energy to plead with them, that it was still him. At least he would be a full ghost once the bloodless and missing limbs did him in. Really his human body wasn't as resistent as his ghost body. But at least staying in human form would protect his core. Really the worst that could happen was his human side dying right now.

Letting out a mute sigh Danny closed his eyes letting exhaustion take his mind into oblivion. The only sad thing was, that he never got to find out how his twin Damien was doing and if he was still with the league…

TIME OUT

When Clockwork first had set the path for this timeline he did not realize how damaging his king's parents' reaction was. As he looked at his king strapped to the table, cut open and even missing limbs, he for a brief moment regretted that he only ever watched the timelines and sent others to intervene. Rarely did he himself interfere but this time he had to. Otherwise his king would lose the part that made him the kindest among all the ghosts in the Infinit Realms.

Carefully he removed his king from the chains holding him down and took him with him. Away from the horrors he was facing and away from the Family that was supposed to preserve his king's kindness and humanity.

It looked like he had made a grave mistake but it was something that was still possible to fix. The timeline had yet to turn into a doomed one. And so Clockwork decided to take his king away and bring him to a place that would have a close amount of ectoplasm as Amity had as well as one of the strongest Spirits in existence to protect him until he was ready.

Looking down at the teen in his arms, Clockwork also decided that his king did not need the painful memories his supposed family gave him. A blue light engulfed his kind as Clockwork let his powers work. Turning the clock back only for his king. The missing limbs returned and his open wounds closed as the body in his arms shrunk.

In mere seconds the Master of time was holding his king at the age of his first death in his arms, yet the state was not the same. The scars of his second death were still present, telling that his powers as halfa were still present in his king's small bodies. With this his king would be ready to be dropped off to his next family. Hopefully Clockwork wasn't making a mistake again but keeping his king truly safe this time.

TIME IN

Lady Gothem was not impressed with the Master of Time as that old man dropped off the body of their king with little to no explanation. Last she knew her king was supposed to be a teenager, a halfa so powerful that the Infinite Realms were supposed to become a much safer place than they ever had been under any of the previous kings.

All the Master of Time had offered her was a cryptic - and honestly when was that old cogwheel not - message of protecting his king and returning him to his family. Really the next time she they meet she would not miss the chance to lecture Cronus. But for now she studied the young sleeping king in her arms, noting the similarities he held to the youngest of her knights.

Ah, so that was the family the old cogwheel meant. Well it looked that her knights were not only hers alone now but would also protect her king now. But who to bring him too, she mused. Surely her dearest among them would have no qualms taking the child in but he was currently not in their home. The little knights of other haunts have requested his help and called him away to that watchtower.

Mentally the city's spirit went through all her knights until her thoughts stopped by one in particular. The knight she was going to request help with from her king anyway. What better way was there than taking care of two problems with one action. He would surely take that child to the others as well as receive her king's help with his little contamination problem.

With her decision made, Lady Gothom made her move.

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