#she was the one breaking the rules to get the power she needed to enforce the rules

[cxlandine]

we need a kipperlilly special on the complicated women podcast - she willingly chose to be possessed, those are some complex ethical and philosophical ramifications. for the sake of the argument i'm assuming porter also has control over her since the shatter star is a part of her, because the morality of choosing to become evil is so interesting. did she think she was going to become a hero somehow, or did she accept that she would have to be a villain to have the power she wanted? she wanted to be better than the bad kids but she kept her moral superiority about fairness and the rules, so was she aware that she couldn't beat the bad kids by playing fair? was her anger always at her own inadequacy, at the fact that she could never excel in the same way they did without cheating? was she projecting the entire time?

[seresinhangmanjake]

Overprotective

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!reader

Summary: Your son is due to be born any day now and Feyd is very protective. He kills anyone who so much as lays a finger on you, but it’s gotten out of control. 

Notes: this was an anon request. same Feyd x reader from The Harkonnen’s Sweet Thing and The Harkonnen’s Claim. *can be read alone*

Warnings: mention of murder and pregnancy. 

Words: 1100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

“You’re mad,” Feyd says, his smile dropping at the sight of your frown. Your arms are crossed over your swollen belly as you lean back against the headboard of your bed. He closes the door behind him. “Why are you mad?”

You roll your eyes. He knows exactly why you’re mad. By your count, you’ve been pissed at him twenty-three times in the past month and a half and you don’t care for your widely-known highly-intelligent husband playing naive. “Don’t act like you don’t know. We only ever fight about one thing, Feyd. One.” 

Feyd sighs and steps closer to the mattress, but when you put your hand up, he stops in his tracks. Your throat strains as you swallow your grin. You still get little flutters in your belly when he demonstrates how you have that kind of power over him, but you cannot let him see the satisfaction on your face now. If he sees you smile, he will smile, which means you will have lost because he’ll know he’s won, and when he wins he gets turned on, so then you’ll get turned on, and then you’ll end up fucking. But you cannot be fucking right now. He needs to learn a lesson. His hard dick in his wife’s warm pussy will not achieve any lesson-learning. If anything, it will encourage his bad behavior. 

“You killed another one,” you tell him, and he doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed; though that’s far from surprising.

Feyd crosses his arms over his broad chest. “He touched you.”

“I tripped.”

“And then he touched you.”

“He caught me.”

“So you agree,” Feyd says with a sharp nod. “I’m glad we are on the same page.”

Your huff descends into a groan as the heels of your palms press against your closed eyelids. “Your wife—your heavily pregnant wife—would’ve fallen on her ass if he hadn’t.”

“He shouldn’t have let you trip in the first place,” Feyd tells you. “He was meant to ensure you have a clear and safe walking path.”

Your lips part, mouth opening and closing and opening again as you search for a response. However, you end up with the same one you always do: “You are unbelievable,” you reply, shaking your head. “Twenty-three servants, Feyd! It has surpassed extremes! You killed one for brushing my hair–”

“Touching—and she was pulling on it too hard.”

“You killed one for helping me dress in the morning when you had already been called away for a meeting.”

“I prefer you naked anyway,” he says, shrugging, a smug grin stretching across his face. “Naked and in this bed.”

You raise a brow. “And the one who helped me sit down so I could watch you in the arena?”

“Ah, that one—” Feyd waves his finger as he clicks his tongue “—that one thought I wouldn’t notice because you were so high up in the stands. I don’t like sneaky people,” he reminds you, though you’re plenty aware of how he handles deception and trickery. “You should have told me you planned to attend and I would’ve helped you well before it started.”

Ignoring his point, you retort, “You cannot keep killing everyone.”

Feyd groans. “My love, you’re in too delicate a state,” he says. “I gathered all of them together not two months ago and explicitly forbade them from laying a finger on you. It is not my fault if they break the rules. And what sort of Baron am I if I do not enforce punishment?”

You hum in dissatisfaction. “You do understand you put me and your child in more danger by not permitting their assistance?”

Immediately, his brow pinches. His head turns to look away from you and when his jaw clenches, you realize the weight of your mistake. A sickening feeling settles in your gut. Your face falls from frustration into total devastation. “Oh God, Feyd…”

“I do not put you in danger,” he says, and it’s so shockingly meek that your heart cracks right down the middle. Not once in almost two years have you heard that tone leave his mouth, and you think maybe his eyes have become glassy, but you’re praying it’s a trick of the low lighting in your bedroom. Feyd has never cried in front of you, if he's ever cried at all, and you hope you didn’t just unfairly yank that vulnerability out of him. 

“I’m so sorry. That isn't what I meant,” you whisper, sinking into your shame. You know it’s such a sensitive topic for him and you spoke without thinking. You reach your hand toward him. “Come here….please.”

Feyd stares at you for a long moment, but then he sighs through his nose and walks over to sit at your side atop the mattress. No tears—your breath shudders in relief. One hand grasps his and your lips brush his knuckles. The other cups his cheek as you guide his forehead to rest on yours. 

“You protect me,” you swear to him. “No one could ever keep me safe the way you do, and I know that's all you want, but our son is coming soon. We will need help. I can’t birth this baby without a doctor and that doctor will have to touch me. Me and our son.”

The heat of Feyd's heavy breath warms your face. You wait for his response but he doesn’t have one, and instead, he shifts to lie down. You adjust your body until you’re flat on the mattress beside him. “Sometimes,” he starts as he rubs his palm over your stomach, “I have dreams about the three of us living elsewhere. Everyone is forced to leave us alone and all we have to care about is each other and our child.”

Feyd kisses your exposed shoulder, and in that moment, you’re reminded of how different he has become. He’s transformed from someone whose sole ambition was to be the Baron—a man driven to control this planet and have the people of Giedi Prime bow to him; a man who sought destruction and pain and power—to a man who secretly craves a bit of peace for his family. Though no one other than yourself sees this side of him, it’s hard to watch him tackle that burden, especially when you know you’re the responsible party. 

“What have I done to you, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen?” you mutter as you press your lips to his forehead. 

He chuckles lowly and hugs you into his body. “You turned me soft.”

“You kill servants without batting an eye.”

“Fine,” he relents. “As soft as I’m capable of being.”

[saphronethaleph]

"Pick up" some Power Converters

“...no, what you want to do is to have most of the shipment be something innocuous – on every run. That way, even a random inspection probably won’t find anything. If you absolutely need to break that rule, still have some innocuous crates, but what you also want to do is to build up a friendship with the inspectors. Find out their routines if you can, and test out if you can bribe them to not bother looking – then you can aim the vital runs to be specifically with the people who you can bribe.”

“You’re sure that works?” Dodonna asked.

“Well, yeah,” Luke replied, with a shrug.

“Luke?” Leia called. “Luke?”

She leaned around the door. “How long have you been in here? We’ve been looking for you for twenty minutes.”

Luke frowned, then glanced down at his comlink. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“We don’t know your com code, kid,” Han provided. “You didn’t get around to telling us.”

Luke’s expression cleared.

“I have been going through Threepio if I need a com discussion,” he admitted. “I guess that’s not going to work if we’re staying with the Rebellion long term, though, I really should give you my com code-”

“Not now,” Leia objected. “What were you talking about, anyway?”

“He was giving us lessons,” Dodonna provided, indicating every single intel operative on Yavin IV and about half of the other Rebel Alliance techs sitting around.

“It’s basic stuff, right?” Luke asked. “I’m surprised you don’t know it.”

Leia frowned. “Lessons in what?” she asked. “Farming?”

“Well, sort of?” Luke replied. “Not moisture farming, not that bit, but the other stuff. I guess it’s helpful, and I’m glad to help!”

“What other stuff, then?” Han asked, leaning on the door, then got out of the way as Chewbacca made a questioning noise. “Right, sorry Chewie…”

“You know,” Luke said. “The basic stuff. Hiding stashes, underground hyperlanes, gun running, how to deflect attention from an enforcer without their realizing you’re doing it. Burning out slave collars, dead drops.”

He shrugged. “Farming.”

Leia blinked.

“That’s… not farming,” she said. “That sounds like a hostile-environment intelligence agent tutorial… how would you pass off vital information?”

“Let’s see…” Luke frowned. “One option – disguise it as something innocuous, while anyone would assume you’d hidden it in a much more complex way. Option two – copy it, send both versions by different routes or hide it in two different places. If you’re willing, get tortured, then crack under torture and give up one of them – that means they’ll believe they’ve got everything. Then another choice is to make it completely public, that’s a bit of a last-chance thing but if you make it completely public then everyone gets to see it including your intended recipient.”

He glanced up at her. “I guess you did the first one, gave up one location but they decided to keep looking for the other, and that’s what led them to R2? Or did you use one of the other methods? I could keep going.”

Leia shook her head.

“Okay, I’m convinced you know what you’re doing,” she said. “But how do you know all this stuff?”

“Do you not?” Luke replied, sounding slightly baffled. “This is boring stuff. Kid’s stuff, you’ve got to do it right but it’s a yawn fest. How does nobody have any ideas about it?”

“I know,” Han declared.

He pointed at Luke. “Farmboy, yes. Tatooine farmboy. The only thing that planet exports is crime.”

Luke looked momentarily offended.

“...yeah, I guess,” he agreed, relenting.

[bella-goths-wife]

What would have happened if Vs pet made a deal with a different overlord

So basically we know what would happen if Vs pet made a deal with alastor and obviously vox, but what would happen if they sold their soul to Velvette, Valentino, Rosie or Carmilla instead

Warnings: obsessive behaviour, SA mentions, abuse mentions, forced affection, forced cannibalism, reader is uncomfortable, violence mentions

Velvette:

Now we know that even though you’d still belong to all the Vs collectively, if you made the deal with Velvette instead of Vox there would be a large power dynamic shift in terms of your care

Let’s say that Velvette found you first and was the one to make a deal with you, you wouldn’t be working for vox as his assistant in this scenario and would instead be a model or assistant to velvette

In the usual au where vox owns your soul, he is the one who creates your rules and enforces them

He’s the one who decides whether the other two can see you

But if velvette owned your soul instead then that entire dynamic is turned upside down, she’s the one who makes your rules and she’s the one who decides whether or not she’ll let vox spend time with you

This would absolutely infuriate him, and velvette can’t help but smile at that

Your rules would be much less restrictive if velvette was the one who owned your soul

Unlike vox who sees you as a surrogate daughter figure most of the time, velvette only sees you as a delightful little pet and occasional friend

And she understands that sometimes pets need a walk or a new toy to keep them occupied until she’s ready to play with them again

So you’d be able to leave the tower by yourself more often and you’d be able to hookup with people, but there is still a strict ban on forming intimate connections or starting relationships

Velvette requires your attention almost all of the time, and you can’t give her that if your chasing after some romantic partner

She should be enough of a connection for you!

You don’t need anyone else

You’d still be shared with the other Vs unfortunately as they share everything, so you’ll still have to deal with Valentino and voxs antics

But at least velvette will draw the line if she thinks they take up to much of your time

Your her pet after all, you sold your soul to her

A downside to velvette being your souls holder is that you’d be the weakest with velvette when it comes to your abilities and fighting skills

She doesn’t want you to improve so you don’t, you only use your power for frivolous purposes and for velvettes entertainment rather than actually using like a weapon like you would with vox or alastor

She doesn’t push you to get better, so you don’t get better

You’d have twice the attitude with half the power because of how velvette taught you and how she spoils you with materialistic things

Rosie:

Rosie would absolutely adore you

She has a soft spot for strays, and she’d heard quite a bit about you from alastor before he disappeared

And she once she met you she thought one thought, what a good friend she’d be if she took your soul in exchange for care and shelter before offering the contract to alastor when he gets back from his extremely long break

So she’d give you a job in cannibal town and she’d give you an entire makeover so you’d fit in more

She’d actually spend time to get to know you and what your life was like before you died

She can’t help but miss alastor when your around, you just remind her so much of him

She’d use your ability to create background music for her gossip sessions and for her party’s, but she’d also encourage you to use it as a weapon and practice with it in your own time

So you’d be more powerful than you would be with velvette but less powerful then you’d be with Vox or alastor

A downside to being in her care is that she wouldn’t be as protective as the others

She’s a busy woman who can’t be with you at all times, so there is a slight chance you may end up hurt while being in her care

She’d do her best to prepare you in case that happens, and you like that she offers you enough freedom to come and go freely enough

Another downside to being in Rosie’s care is that you’d have to adapt to her appetite unfortunately, it’s not like you can find a non cannibal place to eat in a cannibal town

So you’d be practically forced into cannibalism

But Rosie absolutely adores you, so she’ll look the other way sometimes if you want to eat something less gorey

She calls it a nice treat :)

Rosie would consider you a companion more than anything, maybe a goddaughter but she certainly doesn’t see you as a pet or a toy

So you’d be pretty happy with Rosie

But she gets so attached to you that when alastor does return, she refuses to give him your soul no matter what he offers

But it’s okay, because she says he can visit you any time in your home in cannibal town

He hates it but oh well, your her little darling fawn now

Valentino:

Oh god

He’d be the absolute worst choice on the list

If you sold him your soul, your guaranteed a situation similar to angel dusts

Maybe less abusive, but wayyyy more obsessive

You’d be a simple actress in a few of his videos until he becomes obsessed with you, and then you become his personal assistant

And when I say personal, I mean extremely personal

As in the ‘sleeps in his bed every night because he’s afraid you’ll run away’ personal

He wouldn’t see you in a romantic light, more of just a ‘your my possession’ light

You’d be absolutely miserable and constantly in his presence while also dealing with the other Vs

He’d force you to do videos for him and instead of your rules he’d use a ‘reward’ system

Rewards like ‘hold me for a few minutes and I’ll let you be on your own for an hour’

He’d be unbearably clingy and can sometimes get abusive with you, the same way he can be abusive with angel dust

You’d also be extremely weak because he won’t let you practice or explore your abilities at all

If he’s there to protect you at all times, then why would you need to be able to use your silly abilities?

He’d at least allow you to have your friendship with angel dust, but that’s only because he’s using you both to manipulate each other

He’d definitely get you hooked on something so you’ll be relying on him at all times

This would be the worst possible situation for you

Carmilla:

Carmilla would be interested in you because of your ability and how she could use it

She’d find you living on the streets and using your ability to get by and she’d wonder if she could incorporate your skills into making a new weapon designed for people with animal like ears which would be more sensitive

So she’d exchange your soul for her giving you shelter and a job in return

You would stay with her and her daughters and you’d spend most of the day with carmilla helping her design new weapons

It would be during this time that carmilla would become more obsessive with you and start to view you as a daughter

You were so young and so vulnerable, it reminded her of her two young girls and how she’d hate it if it was them

So she’d start acting more motherly with you, but she’d do it slowly so you could get accustomed to it

So she wouldn’t go straight to giving you rules and demanding you call her mom, instead she’d just make it more obvious that she views you as one of her family and that she’d appreciate it if you felt the same for her

But once you do accept her in some form, those rules are coming fast

And you know carmilla will not tolerate back talk or breaking rules

You’d have typical teenage girl rules, stuff like a curfew and drinking rules

But she’s still take the time to respect your boundaries and acknowledge that your an adult in your own way so she can’t act too overbearing

Which is more than you can say for the Vs

You’d also be quite powerful in this scenario because she’d give you training sessions to help with your personal abilities and your fighting skills

So I’d say she’s one of the better options

[puppetmaster13u]

So I am rotating the batfamily, but not like, civilian or vigilante. I am slowly rotating them all having a Malone-sona of sorts that is their in to organized crime.

Like you can't tell me people wouldn't start noticing this family that the bats, the literal cryptids and monsters of Gotham, don't even touch and lets continue to operate despite taking the older crime families apart.

And to Gotham that screams power.

Alfred = Albert “Old Al” Malone I wanna say that he doesn't go out as 'Old Al' often, but gives off Godfather sort of vibes. Usually sitting there with an old cane (that definitely has a sword, they're all dramatic like that lol) half in the dark with a cup of tea or other drink. He gets to stretch his acting skills and honestly the kids definitely had a say in the persona. Old Al is something they all made together and they have fun implying so much fun shit.

Kate = Mary “Madam” Malone She definitely gives off 'snap your spine over her knee if not for the fact it would get your blood all over her clothes' vibes. Stylized nails, hair up in fishtail braids or ponytails or whatever, looks like she could tear out ones throat and they'd thank her. It's a running gag that she's in finances, even if no one in the underbelly believes it.

Bruce = “Matches” Malone I mean, it's classic Matches (though most probably assume that Matches isn't his real name) who seems rather chill until someone breaks the rules. Gives off vibes that he doesn't usually get his own hands dirty but will do so to make a point, and enjoy doing it. He sometimes uses Matches to check in on places he can't as a shadowy cryptid, and it's not like the lower income areas would fully trust Brucie Wayne.

Barbara = Madison “Maddie” Malone Now let's be honest, Barbara enjoys messing with people, she enjoys knowing every little thing as Oracle, and she definitely does that as Maddie. The thing is, no one knows how she learns about things, other criminals search for a traitor, for a leak, for anything, and get nothing. Which is utterly terrifying. Because there has to be some sort of information network, there has to be. And somehow they're so good that they're indistinguishable to any others.

Dick = Micheal “Mikey” Malone Honestly Dick uses this chance to get into a bunch of fights just for fun. Flirts a bit more freely but doesn't really have an interest in actually getting with someone. Just has funs and is known for throwing his own parties that usually end in free-for-all brawls. He absolutely loves being able to have parties that are the opposite of galas he's usually dragged into.

Cass = Molly Malone She's quiet and graceful, but she takes it to unnerving levels as Molly. Looks slim but carries guns on her at all time to better differentiate between Cassandra Wayne, Black Bat, and Molly Malone. Everyone knows if you need a weapon, guns, meelee, whatever, she's the one you go to. Gotham help you if you cross her though.

Jason = Peter “Petey” Malone Where Molly Malone goes, everyone knows Petey will be there as well. Jason absolutely adores the time he gets to do so, it's his turn to be silent and dramatic. Everyone can recognize the jagged scar over his neck, they can recognize it from corpses the Bats have gotten their talons on. Honestly he's delighted in being able to be Cass' enforcer of sorts and just have a good fight. Even if he complains about how making his Malone mute makes it where he can't quote Shakespeare like he wants to.

Steph = “Mia” Malone Ah yes, the explosive Malone. The one who has more arson charges than Firefly. Or at least she would if she was caught, but the entire Underbelly knows it was her. Steph is living her best life being able to pull all sorts of pranks and crazy shit and takes several ideas from Harley. Honestly she probably smells like gasoline or smoke all the time, and definitely put glitter in her hair. Maybe even has red hair as a Malone as well.

Tim = Alvin “Al” Malone He still goes by Alvin Draper too, which results in half the underbelly thinking that Draper is his middle name. Honestly he's having the best time, everyone knows to come to him for forgeries and less than legal identities, which he loves to create. I mean just look at how many new identities he creates for himself alone. He enjoys this type of thing, and hey, it's so easy to keep track of whose identity is fake when you're the one who made them. Plus it also lets him do good for those on the run for good reasons, a way to make sure people are safe.

Duke = Dennis “Denny” Malone Everyone knows Denny was adopted, but y'know what, I bet they don't care. And you know Duke is utterly insane, like jump off a bridge to escape the cops and create the We are Robin gang insane. And he gets to play that up as Denny. He will put forth the most batshit ideas and actually pull them off. I bet he uses his future-sight to cheat at different games and pool tables and all sorts of things, but no one can ever prove it. Because there is no proof, and the other people playing just has to deal with it.

Damian = “Mini M” Malone The little baby of the family, who everyone knows the older Malones absolutely dote over. This is his chance to act like an actual child, just with a hint of art theft. Hey, it wasn't like they got it legally either, so it's free game, especially if they weren't taking proper care of the art or a pet. He's just pleased to get to have even more pets, and that Goliath his demon dragon-bat gets to go on walkies.

Jarro = Jadan “Lil J” Malone Now Jarro is delighted to have a third mech, and is even more delighted for people to believe Damian (or technically M jr) and him are twins. Gives off someone is going to die- of fun with Mini M, and honestly enjoys being able to use his natural telepathy to be a small horror movie child that knows too much. Like will stare up at someone with wide eyes covered in blood and the others in Gotham's underbelly still aren't sure if the blood was his or someone elses. (it was neither)

================================================

Honestly I might write a oneshot or something for the Cryptid Batfam focusing on just them as the Malones family.

[tinosawruswrites]

A Punishment Fitting the Crime

Magistrate Astarion x Rogue Fem!Tav precanon One-Shot

Word count ~ 8600

Synopsis:

Tav is a petty criminal that got caught and is sentenced by magistrate Astarion Ancunín (prevampirism) in the privacy of his office.

TAGS/WARNINGS:

Rogue thief (Fem)Tav, Pre-vampirism Magistrate Astarion, DomAstarion, Sub(Fem)Tav, power play, minor dubcon, bdsm, sexgames with punishments, blowjob, hairpulling, spanking, edging, orgasm denial, vaginal fingering, penis in vagina sex, vaginal penetration, nippleplay

(If the tags are lacking, feel free to suggest any!)

Other notes:

Tav's looks are left ambiguous but her height is mentioned once as being a head shorter than Astarion.

Magistrate Ancunín’s office was located on the top floor of the court house building. Tav made her way up the numerous rows of polished marble stairs, almost compelled to count them from sheer boredom as she went.

The air was clean, almost sharp, with a lingering node of citrus to it, making it relatively easy to inhale while keeping up her steady pace.

Choosing to wear a light jacket, simple pants and shoes had been the right call after all, compromising style for comfort and ease of movement. If she got too hot after the climb, she could simply remove the jacket and still look presentable in her unassuming, common variety undershirt.

The high arched ceiling above her bent with the elevation like a strange, wide funnel, guiding her further along as water would through a pipe – except water would have refused to defy gravity and slid down the stairs.

Such was the life as a sentient, bipedal being. A continuous struggle against the laws of nature.

And regular law, Tav supposed.

Her case had been deemed too insignificant for a full trial. She was to receive a quick and efficient ruling by visiting the chosen magistrate’s office instead, and that happened to be this magistrate Astarion Ancunín.

Their immaculate signature decorated the bottom of the summons letter right next to the official stamp of the courts, both of them equally as artificial in both size and decorum. The way the A’s in magistrate Ancunín’s name had been written to dominate all the other smaller letters signaled Tav everything she ought to know about the man.

Another pompous, bigger than they actually were, holier-than-thou prick that loved to punish bad people and get paid to do so, maybe even keep a shifty side business giving out less harsh punishments and shorter sentences depending on how much gold his pockets got lined up with.

Then again, it was an open secret there were corrupt officials within the courts and that you either knew the right people or had to get really lucky to “do business” with them, as they said.

Nothing too unusual for Tav. Being a rogue sometimes happened to rope her in some less than legal gigs by working for shady people in need of light feet, nimble fingers and keen eyes for suspicious things.

She didn’t care where her skills were needed or who they were for, just that she got compensated for a job well done, like any good, hard working citizen – it wasn’t directly her fault if a customer had an enforced vault with mysterious origins that needed cracking open, or a particular door in the Upper City in need of unlocking without anyone finding out about it. At dead of night. When the owners were on holiday.

Those were all circumstantial details at best and did not in fact make her a criminal.

Tav’s inner justification to absolve herself of any guilt worked wonders for her confidence. Convincing the magistrate ordered to rule her legal punishment for allegedly: “Getting caught giving an aiding hand in breaking in to a high noble’s Summer palace and trespassing” did not.

It was a different thing entirely to lie to oneself and succeed, than to lie to an agent of law and walk away free of charges.

Tav finally reached the top of the stairs panting lightly and found herself standing inside another long, all too bright and polished hallway, almost an exact copy of the ones she passed below. All the whiteness was thankfully broken by the occasional dark paneled door and extravagant painting depicting some form of righteousness or an act of justice being given out.

She peered down at the letter and started systematically checking every door for the right name on a golden placate next to it. A large, vertically slim window opened a view into the dark city at the end of the corridor. Tav peered at the lit streetlamps glowing in the growing darkness leading away from the building she was in.

A road to freedom.

Alas, if she managed to wiggle herself off the hook and get away with a slap on the wrist, that was.

It was late in the standards of a regular day worker and Tav had to wonder if there had been an increase in petty crimes, or if it was an effect of some new government policy for a magistrate to be working this late into the evening. It was so late in fact, that there was barely anyone around, not even guards apparently, except for the random ones patrolling the hallways every now and then.

Must have been a real harsh pay cut to everyone.

Tav found the corresponding name and placate next to the door at the end of the hallway. She peered at the letter again and read the instructions stating her to arrive before the designated time, knock on the door and wait for it to be opened before entering. Otherwise, she was to sit aside and wait until she was let in.

Clenching her fists, Tav took a deep breath before tapping a couple stern knocks on the door and waited.

No response.

She looked around and found herself to be alone, then stepped closer and pressed her ear against the door to listen.

No sounds could be heard through the door. Either the room was empty, or the walls were magically enchanted to keep all sounds inside. Potentially to keep any incriminating statements out of curious outsider ears. She stepped back when a distant metal clinking echoed down the hallway. She took a quick seat at one of the small wooden stools lined next to the wall.

A lonesome guard wandered down the hallway, gloved hands balled to tight fists at their side, weapon ready at their hip, face like carved stone, stiff and unreadable. The guard marched before Tav, gave her a tired little smile, turned around and marched back the way they came from.

The metal clinking of the guard’s feet grew distant, finally disappearing into the distance. Tav was left alone once again.

Her gaze wandered around the space, the white walls, unassuming braziers and finally the sizable painting on the end wall of the corridor. It depicted a blindfolded maiden holding a golden scale – a common depiction of fair justice.

She peered at the woman’s covered eyes, wondering if justice was served blindly and without prejudice even by tired, overworked magistrates that were forced to work late into the evening.

She hoped the magistrate had at least been well fed, having heard terrible things about verdicts changing drastically depending whether a judge was hungry or not.

Time oozed by like thick oil and there was still no answer from the door beside her. Tav checked the letter in her hands for the time and date, comparing them to her pocket time-piece and the small calendar handily plastered above the magistrate’s name placate.

All was correct.

She had arrived on time, did as instructed and waited for an answer, and now it was way past her appointment and it wasn’t her fault that the proceedings would take longer. She seated herself once more and smirked smugly, pondering on using the magistrate’s potentially exhausted state to negotiate herself out out as quickly as possible.

Maybe, just maybe he would be so pent up from today’s proceedings he’d just dismiss her case altogether and they could both just go home.

The door clanked open and an older gnome exited. Tav made brief eye contact with him, recognizing them from another gig she partook in months ago.

This one was a peppy, we-can-do it kind of guy, but his current state reflected worn out desperation, like his spirits had been broken and what remained of them had been chewed out to the bones. He shut the door and turned away wordlessly, dragging his feet down the corridor, away from Tav and magistrate Ancunín’s office.

Tav swallowed nervously.

She recalled the gnome only had a small part in the gig, working as the handyman offering tools for the group. If the man responsible for tool handling looked like he had been sentenced for life, what would her door opening services get her?

The rope?

Tav felt a cold sweat rise to her neck and she gripped the edge of her stool until her knuckles turned white.

Perhaps she should have started being more honest with herself and admitted to having wandered to the wrong side of the law before someone else forced the truth upon her face like this.

The door cracked open again and Tav jumped to her feet, back stiff as a statue.

Magistrate Ancunín looked exactly what she had expected him to be and nothing like it at the same time.

Curly, silver locks swiped back from his face. One loose curl elegantly leaning over the right side of his forehead, as if by design, not accident. Pointy, pink tipped elf ears poking from under a tuft of more, unruly curls lining the side of his face. Two piercing gray eyes, glaring tiredly at her under stern eyebrows.

A handsome – No, beautiful – collection of features.

Tav felt a blush creep up her neck and cheeks, shocked at the surprisingly young looking magistrate’s beauty.

Magistrate Ancunín’s lips formed an unreadable, straight line, prominent laugh lines caging it on both sides of his face. He looked Tav up and down briefly. A wry, forced smile climbed upon his lips, bringing his laugh lines more into view.

“You’re late.” He stated coldly.

Tav’s eyes widened and whatever brief attraction she had for the man evaporated. She wanted to retort back and correct him, but bit her tongue instead.

“Inside.” The magistrate ordered and waved an uninterested hand at her before returning inside his office.

Tav forced a smile on her lips, determined not to show her displeasure and in turn prod the clearly very impatient magistrate further. She followed suit and shut the door as she went, quickly making her way deeper into the office.

The room was spacious and surrounded by heavy, tall bookshelves housing heavy, tall books of law. Miscellaneous scrolls poked out here and there in between them both, with an occasional paper and envelope to accompany them.

The middle of the office was left empty, decorated by an ornamental red carpet, handmade and expensive by the looks of it. At the end of the room sat a heavy mahogany desk littered with documents, letters, an inkwell, quills and a lone, uneaten red apple of all things.

An odd, magically infused crystal lamp provided dim light to the otherwise dark room from the side. Heavy purple curtains covered any leaking light from the streetlamps outside behind the magistrate’s desk, clouding most of the back room in darkness.

Magistrate Ancunín sat behind his desk on his immaculate, leather chair. Head leaned against his bowed elbows and crossed fingers, hiding his mouth from view, gray eyes inspecting Tav keenly.

Tav stood in the middle of the dim room, waiting for further orders.

“Sit.” Magistrate Ancunín commanded.

Tav grabbed the vacant chair in front of the desk and took a seat, polite smile still forced on her lips.

“Do you know why you are here?”

Tav felt like retorting and asking the man the same back, still miffed by the unjustified ruling over her punctuality. He could as well be leaning on her to recite her misdemeanors to him instead of having had prepared accordingly. That, or maybe he was testing her. Or worse, enjoyed verbally tormenting her before slamming a merciless guilty verdict on her.

She smiled and tilted her head, stealing a glance at the side.

“I believe the exact wording was: For aiding in breaking and entering. Oh, and trespassing.”

“Correct.” The magistrate said and picked up the document in front of him and looked it over.

He flapped the paper down and gave Tav a sly side smirk.

“...In addition to suspicions of aiding in other similar activities, not limited to: Breaking and entering. Robbery. Theft. Smuggling. Fencing stolen property and evading law enforcement. Oh. And trespassing.” He added and leaned back on his chair.

Tav’s smile broke a little and a scowl threatened to take over. She willed her face to stay neutral.

“Ah, but the key lies in the wording itself, your honor; suspicions, not proof.”

Magistrate Ancunín’s gaze sparked with interest and he leaned over the desk again.

“Observant one, aren’t you? It must have been bad luck on your end for getting caught that night. Otherwise, I have an inkling you wouldn’t be gracing me with your presence here. In this late hour. In my humble office.”

Tav smiled and read the tired frustration seeping between the magistrate’s words and demeanor.

“Bad luck indeed. Must have been equally bad luck on your part to be stuck in my presence. In this late hour.Iin your humble office.” She repeated and placed a hand on the table, leaning in.

“I believe it’s all just an inconvenient, circumstantial little mishap. Not worth a full trial, certainly not big enough to steal more of your precious time, your honor.” Tav pleaded confidently.

Magistrate Ancunín grinned.

“And what would you suggest we do about this, inconvenient, little mishap stealing my precious time?”

Tav leaned in further, meeting the magistrate’s gaze head on.

“A slap on the wrist, as they say, and I will disappear. We’ll both be free to go home for the night.”

He laughed.

“I’m afraid that’s not how this works.”

Tav leaned against the backrest, her smile now fully gone, replaced by a sullen frown.

“You see, while I appreciate your suggestion to save my time and yours, I however, cannot overlook the fact that this would benefit you more than me.” He mused and grabbed a pencil.

“It’s been a long, hard day and as much as I would love to let you go with a slap on the wrist and go home for the night, I believe there is a serious threat of you repeat offending and being sent back here to steal even more of my highly valuable, highly limited time again. A throughout punishment is in order, I’d say. To make sure you don’t forget why you don’t want to return to my office.” Magistrate Ancunín fixed Tav a sadistic gaze.

It was like he was playing with his food, uninterested in eating it before it jumped up and down, flipped around, pranced and finally begged and pleaded how he liked, before he would even allow it to see his tongue – or declared he wasn’t hungry in the first place and left it to rot on his plate.

“Well?”

“Yes, your honor?”

“You aren’t going to counter my accusations? Plea to soften my verdict?”

“I haven’t heard you come to a clear verdict yet, sir.”

“Guilty. Now, what do you suppose would be a fitting punishment for your misdemeanors?” He arched a brow, tilting the pencil to start writing onto the document in front of him.

“The punishment should fit the crime I would assume. You tell me, your honor.”

“As you wish. I’ll just add in ‘arriving late’ and ‘refusal to cooperate’ to the list first…” The magistrate grabbed the pencil properly and pulled the document closer to himself.

“I wasn’t late.”

“Pardon?” His gaze snapped back to Tav.

“I wasn’t late. I was here before you were finished with your latest customer. I knocked on the door, didn’t hear and answer and sat down to wait, as instructed on the letter.” She pulled out the summons letter and placed it on the desk.

Magistrate Ancunín didn’t even glance at the letter she offered.

“Are you implying I am a liar?”

“Not implying sir, accusing would be the correct term.”

The magistrate sat back on his chair, eyes wide and wild.

“You’re accusing me of being a liar?”

“Yes, your honor. I think we both know you are.”

“Interesting.” He tilted his head.

“… And what will you do with this bold accusation of yours? Convince someone of my wicked ways? Put me on trial?”

“Well I-”

Tav knew this wasn’t a good idea. Even if she knew the magistrate was full of lies, she didn’t have a proper leg to stand on against him. He would just push her down with his superior power and influence, as all great men tended to do to those they perceived to be standing beneath them.

“… Forgive me. I think I spoke out of line, sir.”

“That’s more like it. I’ll correct my notes to read ‘complicit and cooperative’ instead.”

Tav remained silent.

“Now. Back to your punishment. What do you think I should do with you?”

“I don’t suppose letting me just go is an option?”

The magistrate chuckled.

“Persistent, aren’t you?” He sounded almost amused.

“If it’s the verdict you come to, it would be the truth. After all, you aren’t a liar, sir.”

Magistrate Ancunín fixed Tav an intense kind of stare. She stared equally as intensively back. He resumed playing with his pencil before setting it neatly on his desk. He crossed his fingers and leaned comfortably over the desk.

“You would be absolutely correct about that. Alas, the problem lies not in what the truth will be, but what you have on offer for me to enforce said truth.”

Tav perked up slightly. She had gotten lucky after all. Magistrate Ancunín might have been an asshole and a liar, but one of these traits would benefit her if she just knew the right cards to play.

“You don’t suppose some good old gold would settle all this?” She offered.

“Mmh. I doubt whatever amount it is you’re thinking is enough to make up for this.”

“How about community service then?”

“What kind of community service?”

Tav shrugged and peeked around the office.

“You need something opened very late at night, perhaps something small delivered some place without detection…” Tav listed nonchalantly.

“Anything else?”

She returned her gaze to him. He looked slightly interested and more at ease, almost relaxed, if it wasn’t for the ever present frown on his brows. The man looked tired still, exhausted even. He was definitely overworked and hadn’t had a proper break in awhile. He was stressed, tense, like a piano string wrung up too tightly, ready to snap at any moment.

“A massage…?”

“A massage?” The magistrate repeated in surprise.

“Forgive me if I am mistaken, but you look rather... tense, sir.”

“You aren’t mistaken on that part.” He admitted with a raised brow.

“Would you allow me to relieve some of that tension, your honor?” Tav asked sweetly.

“Ever so polite, aren’t you, darling?” Magistrate Ancunín said with a smile.

The petname caught Tav by surprise and she felt a blush rush to her cheeks. She blinked and forced a smile.

“Always, sir.”

“Why not? I suppose it couldn’t do any harm.”

Magistrate Ancunín stood up from his chair and gestured for Tav to stand up with him. She did as commanded and circled the desk to where he was. The magistrate moved his chair to the side to give them free roam near his desk.

He was over a head taller than Tav. His body was slim and his shoulders looked much broader in contrast thanks to it. The air around him gave off an atmosphere of patient authority, something one would expect from a man working in such a high position.

He wore a frill collared jacket made of the finest light blue silks. Silver threaded peonies adorned the front of it. Trails of ornamental threads ran along the cuts of the fabric, every piece carefully tailored to fit his shape.

His legs were covered by similarly colored straight trousers. Plain and uninteresting compared to his jacket that screamed wealth and dignity. His shiny leather shoes provided a dark contrast to the rest of his outfit, having a grounding effect to his looks.

A striking difference to what Tav was wearing. What she had on currently, were some of her more nicer clothes. It was like setting a polished sapphire and a nice, water smoothed stone next to one another. It clearly paid well to be a professional liar in the right place.

Tav settled behind him and the magistrate watched her each move from the edge of his vision. She reached her hands and gripped over the magistrate’s shoulders, starting to rub the firm, tense muscles there in circles.

“Mmmh.” Magistrate Ancunín hummed in pleasure.

“Is that good sir?”

“Very good, darling.”

Tav smiled at the praise and kept going. She worked the top of his shoulders, sometimes dipping over towards his collarbones, to the sides of his biceps and down his back, closer to his shoulder blades.

Even through his fine layers of clothes it was evident to Tav that this man was in excellent shape despite his lanky proportions. He started to noticeably relax the more she massaged him.

“...What else did you have on offer?”

Tav thought through the question as she continued to work on the magistrate’s stiff shoulders. She let her hands wander down along his arms a little.

“Perhaps I could ease the tension on some other parts of your body?” She offered.

The magistrate peeked over his shoulder before fully turning towards her. Tav removed her hands. The magistrate had an inquisitive brow lifted.

“Such as…?”

Tav felt a nervous sting in her stomach. She realized the accidentally loaded implications of her words and let her gaze fall to the man’s chest.

“Your pecks- I mean back, sir.”

He chuckled.

“Aren’t you just adorable?”

Tav froze as a violent rush of heat flooded to her face. Magistrate Ancunín looked proud of himself and searched through her eyes, considering.

“It would be more efficient if I were to undress slightly, wouldn’t it?”

“Eh?”

Magistrate Ancunín smirked deviously and pulled his frilly collar loose and unbuttoned the top layer of his tailored coat. Tav followed his hands with her gaze and felt her heartbeat increase the more buttons popped open.

He pulled his coat off and settled it over the back of his chair, then started on his long sleeved undershirt.

Tav wanted to speak up and tell him it was enough, but she couldn’t. Something in her urged to remain silent and let the events unravel before her as they did. Soon, magistrate Ancunín stood before her shirtless, his well defined pecks and abdomen in full view.

Tav gawked at his perfect skin, her fingertips itching to reach and touch him. She looked him up and down, admiring his figure. The smile on magistrate Ancunín’s lips told her everything she had to know.

“Well, you aren’t just going to stand and gawk there?”

Tav blinked in an attempt to get her wits back, but the sight of magistrate Ancunín’s naked torso had chased most of them away, possibly permanently.

“Oh, of course sir.” Tav moved to stand behind him again.

The magistrate turned with her, staying face to face.

“Ah ah, not my back. You said pecks first, didn’t you?”

Tav froze and her eyes widened. Her gaze dropped at the half naked man’s muscular pecks and remained there.

“Yes. My mistake, sir.” She said half out of breath.

“You are absolved.”

Tav reached to touch magistrate Ancunín’s pecks and began massaging them in circular motions. She tried to keep her breathing calm despite her body’s increased need for more air. She faked appearing confident and stole glances up at the magistrate’s face every now and then, finding his eyes transfixed onto hers each time.

“You’re doing excellent, little pet.”

Tav couldn’t force down the smile and an accidental giggle escaped her. She tried to hide it with a loud clearing of her throat, but the magistrate had noticed it.

“Enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

“Ih… forgive me sir, I didn’t mean…”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head at her.

“We can’t have that, now can we? You are to be punished for your crimes, not rewarded for them. Although… if you behave, I suppose a little reward is in order…”

“A reward, sir?” Tav’s voice pitched from excitement.

“Punishment first, pet.” He nodded.

Tav locked eyes with him and nodded with him. He peeked down her body, then leaned close to her face.

“Strip.”

Tav’s eyes widened and she looked herself over. She studied the look on magistrate Ancunín’s eyes and determined he was serious.

“And… if I don’t?”

“Is this not what you want…?” He countered and lolled his head to the side curiously.

Tav felt heat surge to her loins. A pressure formed inside her lower abdomen and she was suddenly aware of the growing slickness between her legs. She sucked on her lips and nodded.

“Yes. Yes it is… your honor.”

“I thought so.” He smiled and snapped his fingers.

“Now, strip.”

Tav bit her lower lip and stepped back, removed her jacket and dropped it on the floor. She began to unbutton her undershirt while magistrate Ancunín watched her with a smirk.

She struggled to hop out of her shoes and trousers, somewhat clumsily ridding herself of her clothes all at once. Soon, she stood before magistrate Ancunín in her underwear.

He gave her a questioning look.

“Naked.” He said.

The breath in Tav’s lungs halted and she nodded, slid the straps of her bras off her shoulders and reached behind to unbuckle them without question, setting her breasts free. Her nipples hardened against the cool air of the office.

She discarded her bra on top of the pile of her other clothes and pulled down her panties, letting them drop down to her ankles. Panting, she stepped out of them, feeling hot slickness rub along her inner thighs.

Magistrate Ancunín grinned and stepped forth.

“Why are you here?” He asked, slowly circling around her.

The repeat question caught Tav off guard.

“Because of my crimes, sir?”

“Because you’re a bad girl, no?”

“I’m…”

The situation she was in started to catch up to her. Tav realized she was inside the top floor of the court house, alone with a shirtless magistrate, naked. Like a scene straight from some cheap smut chapbook circled around Amn. This wasn’t how she expected things to go or how she would negotiate herself off trouble, but didn’t really mind how things looked for her currently.

“B-because I’m a bad girl… magistrate sir.” She panted with a smile, playing along.

“Bad girls need to be punished accordingly before they can become good girls. You want to be a good girl, don’t you?”

“Yes!”

“Yes who?”

“Yes, magistrate Ancunín!”

“Good girl.”

Tav felt herself grow wetter over the praise and gnawed on her bottom lip harder. She watched as magistrate Ancunín stopped in front of her, his gray eyes dark. She focused on the way he slowly wet his lips before speaking up again.

“I couldn’t help but notice what a beautiful mouth you have, darling. Not only is your tongue clever with words, I’m sure you can put it to good use on other matters.” He alluded.

Tav nodded, stealing a glance down his front. He extended an arm and curled most of his fingers up into a fist, pointing down at the floor with his index finger.

“On your knees darling.”

Tav’s mouth gaped slightly and she obeyed wordlessly. She got on her knees and looked up at the magistrate as he approached. He unbuckled his belt. Tav ogled as he pulled the belt off and tossed it over the arm rest of his chair. Her eyes flickered down to the man’s crotch and the way his long, deft fingers unbuttoned his trousers.

Unsurprisingly, his underwear seemed to be as fine and expensive as the rest of his clothes, fitting the rest of his getup seamlessly. A man of style and principle. The blue and silver threads of his undergarments were stretched at the front, strained by the growing weight of his half erect cock underneath.

Tav let out a tiny whimper when magistrate Ancunín pulled out his heated flesh. The lean shaft of his cock was as pale as the rest of him and deliciously flushed closer to the tip. The word ‘elegant’ described it perfectly. His trousers folded below his ankles and he stepped out of them while adjusting his underwear lower.

“Lips apart, darling.”

Eyes adoringly fixated on the magistrate’s cock, Tav parted her lips as commanded.

“Lick.” Came the order.

Tav wiggled closer on her knees and leaned in, mouth open, tongue extended, hearing her pulse drum in her ears. She slithered the flat of her tongue from the underside of the magistrate’s engorged dick to its swollen tip with a sigh.

She repeated the action and peeked up momentarily to see the approving smirk on magistrate Ancunín’s face.

“That’s a good pet.” He praised and Tav felt something akin to butterflies flutter inside her chest.

Eager to hear more, she continued her ministrations and started to lap all over the magistrate’s cock. She began properly from the base, continued up the underside of his shaft, twirling around his cockhead and went back down to its base around the sides, then repeated the motions like a ritual.

Magistrate Ancunín’s breathing was starting to grow heftier, as was his hardened length. His erection reached it’s peak as Tav kept lavishing his member with the slick attention of her tongue, her own loins already soaking wet at this point.

A droplet of precum formed at the tip of magistrate Ancunín’s dick and Tav pulled back briefly to admire it.

“Suck.” Came the one word order from the slightly hoarse voice of the magistrate above.

Tav huffed hot air over the glistening wet tip and opened wide, let the cocktip slip between her lips and gave it a gentle suck.

Magistrate Ancunín tensed and let out a muffled growl. One of his hands found its way among Tav’s hair and grabbed a hold, before starting to pet through her soft locks gently, encouragingly.

Tav closed her eyes and swallowed more of the length in front of her, minding her teeth and carefully applying pressure with her lips and tongue. She began to bob her head back and forth slowly, listening to the tiny grunts of approval elicited by magistrate Ancunín above her.

She had experience sucking up to authority, but this was a new form of doing so entirely. Despite the clear, outrageous imbalance of power between them, she found herself feeling safe and pleased by the situation she was in – trouble like this was what she enjoyed finding herself in the most.

She felt oddly powerful down on her knees in front of him. The thought of being able to render a man of such high status as magistrate Ancunín into a whimpering mess just with her mouth excited her further.

The wet heat between her legs demanded attention and one of her hands slipped to soothe her aching clit. She got so lost among the pleasure of sucking the magistrate off while touching herself that she lost the rhythm of her mouth more than once.

A snap of fingers brought her out of her zone.

“What do you think you’re doing down there? Both hands where I can see them. Now.”

Tav furrowed her brows and huffed with her mouth stuffed with dick and removed the hand attending to her own growing need. She placed both of her hands up against the magistrate’s thighs and focused back on sucking him off.

“Eyes on me, darling.” Came the call from above.

Tav’s gaze snapped up and above, meeting magistrate Ancunín’s pleased gaze and self-satisfied grin. His gray eyes looked down upon her with a glint of sadistic joy, the thrill of having power over someone.

“You’re being such a good girl. Keep going.”

Tav couldn’t help the smile that wrung to the edges of her lips and blinked a couple times, slowly starting back up again. Her gaze ate in the way the magistrate above her shivered and twitched each time she pushed his length down as far as she could muster, feeling the hot flesh throb against her own.

Her fingers dug against the soft skin of magistrate Ancunín’s thighs, both in search of support and to heed the earlier command to keep her hands in his sight. The man above her shut his eyes, lost in his own pleasure, his surveillance of her growing lazy. She could easily slide one of her hands off his legs and he wouldn’t notice it returning between her legs.

Yet the new need to obey and be recognized as ‘a good girl’ somehow overpowered Tav’s natural urge to disobey – for now.

Magistrate Ancunín whimpered above Tav and held onto her head, gesturing for her to stop. She could tell he was close, having felt his flesh tremble and his balls constricting in anticipation of his release. He pulled back and shot Tav with a mirthful glance.

“On your feet.”

Tav swallowed the excess spit still in her mouth and licked her lips. She got up on her wobbly feet, knees feeling slightly achy from supporting her against the office’s hard plank flooring. A trail of hot wetness trickled down between her legs as she did.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” The magistrate raised a brow.

Tav met his strong gaze and nodded sheepishly, lips still wet and gleaming.

“Bad girl.”

He raised his hand once again and gestured for her to turn around. Tav spun on her heels and found herself facing the magistrate’s work desk. Magistrate Ancunín reached past her and swiped the documents and items crowding the center of the desk to the sides, clearing empty space in the middle.

Tav stared at the shiny dark surface of the mahogany desk and was sure if it was polished a hint further, she could see the wild arousal burning behind her eyes reflected from it.

“Bend over it.” Magistrate Ancunín ordered.

Tav closed the gap between her and the desk, then laid her hands over its gleaming smooth surface to test it. She bent her upper body over it until the base of her legs stopped her from going any further along it. She felt a firm grip take a hold of the back of her head and gently force her face down against the table. Her chest and perk nipples squashed against the table’s cool surface. She sighed from the contact.

She felt another hand trail up her spine sensually, the magistrate’s surprisingly calloused palm feeling up the arch of her back and the dip between her shoulder blades.

A cool, leather shoe tapped below on the insides of her bare ankles, ushering them apart. With the domineering hand laid over her neck keeping her head in place, Tav felt cornered enough for the will to disobey rise back up again. She kept her feet where they were.

“No?” Asked the magistrate curiously.

Tav breathed against the hard desk, glancing back at the magistrate standing at the edges of her vision. She heard the floor creak lightly as he stepped closer and felt the heat of his flushed skin hover near hers.

“Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” The magistrate asked softly, petting her hair.

Tav shook her head as best as she could and smirked disobediently.

Magistrate Ancunín tutted at her and she could barely make out the way he shook his head in disapproval. The hand at the back of her neck tightened its grip and pressed her face harder against the desk.

She whimpered.

“Quiet.”

She stilled and listened.

“Maybe I need to remind you why you should behave?”

Tav swallowed heavily and waited. She felt deft fingers slide between her thighs and brush over her wet folds to her neglected clit. Her hips shivered at the contact and her lungs let out a gasp. The fingers kept rubbing at her ache and the heat at her center wound up tighter. She let out a pleased moan.

“You like that, don’t you?”

The magistrate’s clever fingers glided over her wet folds next, teasing around her hot entrance. Tav shivered at the growing feeling of emptiness around her yearning flesh. The fingers poked at the twitching entrance leading to her leaking canal, never breaching in deeper than that. Tav huffed out of frustration.

“Beg for it.”

Magistrate Ancunín’s touch froze near her entrance and Tav bit her lower lip in excited silence. She relaxed her lower back and parted her legs, sighing deeply before peeking back at the magistrate.

“Please, magistrate Ancunín?”

“Please what?”

“Please… feel up my cunt with your fingers, sir?”

“Hm. Better.”

Tav hummed as a warm digit slid up to the knuckle within her wetness and curled.

“A-ahh…!” She jerked at the sudden stimulus.

The magistrate kept rubbing at the roof of her depths, clearly aware of the sweetspot lingering around there. Tav’s legs shook with every jolt of pleasure, her hips starting to rock against the invading pressure.

“Hold still.”

Tav halted on her tracks, her breathing shallow and laboured. The finger inside of her pressed up against the ache and she struggled not to move.

“I’m certain you’re aware it could be something entirely different easing all this tension within you, yes?”

“Yes, magistrate Ancunín, I am aware.”

With a chuckle the magistrate rubbed his hard cock along her inner thigh and outer folds for emphasis. The finger inside of her curled again, applying more relieving pressure against her lustful ache. Tav sucked in her lips to keep her voice in.

“Ask for forgiveness and I might consider giving you more relief than just my finger.”

He rubbed his finger against her inner walls a couple more times before pulling out entirely. Tav whined as she felt the emptiness around her, the need throbbing inside of her, craving to be filled.

“Please forgive me, magistrate sir. I’ve… been such a bad girl and I must be punished.”

“As you wish, my sweet. Punished you shall be.”

Tav felt the comforting heat of magistrate Ancunín step away from her. He settled out of her view, but kept the hand over her neck firmly in place. Tav waited, listening to him rummage around his shelves.

Suddenly, an hourglass was placed in front of her face. The sand was all piled at the bottom and the magistrate’s fingers tilted it to show it off to her.

“This hourglass will be the length your punishment will last. You can endure until the last strand of sand has fallen, can’t you darling?”

The hourglass seemed relatively small and would last a minute, maximum of three, or more. Tav had no idea how long it would actually take, most definitely a calculated move on magistrate Ancunín’s part. Another devilish way to amp up her discomfort in addition to the sweet torture he was about to inflict upon her.

Tav bent the arm next to her face to see the item better and tried to look where magistrate Ancunín was.

“But you must not make a sound, otherwise I will tip the hourglass over again until you remain completely silent, understood? This is a punishment, after all. Knock on the desk once if you understand.”

Tav clenched her fingers into a fist and knocked on the desk once.

“Good. Now, as to not sully our fun little punishment game, knock repeatedly against the desk if it becomes too much to bear and I will stop. If you stop however, there will be no reward for you, unfortunately. Only good, obedient girls get rewarded. Knock once if you understand.”

Tave knocked once.

“Excellent. Now, lets play.” The magistrate said with a notable thrill in his voice.

Tav took a deep inhale and braced herself for what was to come. The hourglass in front of her was flipped and the sand began to drain.

A sharp smack hit her left buttock. She jolted from surprise. Another slap hit her right buttock and left it tingling the same way her left side did.

She knocked repeatedly against the desk before the third strike could land. The magistrate halted and leaned over her to peek at her face. Tav gave him a coy little smile.

“Sweetheart, are you testing me?” Magistrate Ancunín’s voice sounded playfully shocked.

Tav knocked once.

He chuckled delightfully.

“Do you want me to stop altogether or was this just a test? Knock once to stop, twice to continue.”

Tav watched as the sand in front of her in the hourglass kept draining. She knocked twice.

“Very well then, but ah, would you look at that. I left the hourglass running. Interrupting me like that will extend your punishment, I’m afraid.”

The magistrate resumed spanking Tav with his bare hand, lavishing both of her ass cheeks with plenty of attention. Tav managed to keep quiet through it all, feeling her ass start to tingle and warm up from the repeated strikes against it. The vibrations from each strike traveled to her folds and clit, granting her a teasingly small amount of stimulus that only served to increase the want in her.

The sand drained to the end and magistrate Ancunín paused to tip the hourglass over.

Each slap echoed inside the otherwise silent office of the magistrate as he continued on. He alternated between light and hard strikes, randomly switching between each ass cheek every now and then, pausing at times to create anticipation and hoping to catch Tav off guard.

The pain ebbing on Tav’s behind was starting to sting and she bit down on her lower lip to keep herself from whimpering. She panted hard against the wooden desk, her moist breath misting its gleaming surface. Eyes focused on the slowly draining hourglass in front of her, mustering herself to keep quiet.

Tav began to sweat from the heat of the situation, small droplets trickling down her back and sides in tandem to the heavy trickles of wetness seeping down between her thighs, smearing the hard wooden floor below.

She wanted to disobey so badly, but felt the pain on her backside starting to turn uncomfortably numb with each new spank. She licked her lips, glaring at the hourglass to drain faster, eager to taste the reward for enduring her punishment so well.

Then the final strand of sand fell and the spanking halted. She let out a loud hum of exhaustion, feeling her neglected cunt throb in need.

The hand over her neck was removed and she raised her head to peek over her shoulder.

“That’s a good girl. You endured so well despite the interruption at the start.”

Tav flashed a brief smile.

“Now then, as promised. Good girl’s get rewarded for their efforts.” Magistrate Ancunín said and moved to stand behind Tav.

His still erect cock slid under Tav’s swollen cunt and his hips pressed flush against her aching behind. She hissed at the contact.

“Shhhh… I’ll make it better soon. Now, what do we say when we want something?”

Magistrate Ancunín began to rub her aching ass cheeks with both hands while waiting for her reply.

“Please, sir?”

“Please what, my dear?”

“Your cock, sir. I need your cock inside of me, please?”

“Good girl.”

He pulled away and nudged the head of his cock at Tav’s leaking entrance. He grabbed her hips and pushed in with little effort. Tav moaned wantonly and moved to accommodate him further. The magistrate sighed with pleasure and his grip on her hips tightened as he bottomed out. Tav felt his hot breath against her neck as he bent over her back.

“Oh, you sweet thing. So wet for me.” He panted and began to rock against her softly.

Tav gasped and wiggled under him, her knees shaking from their continuous efforts to stay afoot, backside still tender from the punishment.

“Mmhh… Hold still.” His hand snuck into Tav’s hair and yanked her head back.

Tav whimpered and stilled as best as she could. The magistrate continued to pound into her in languid motions, slow and relaxed, his cock hot and rigid inside Tav’s needy cunt. His grip on her hair kept her head bent back.

She bit her lower lip and enjoyed the way the magistrate’s cock filled her, relieving the heated tension building inside of her. Her wet folds wrapped around him, tightening whenever he pulled out, relaxing as he pushed in, welcoming him back into her depths, begging him not to leave.

She felt the coil in her lower abdomen tighten and felt her release getting closer. Her breathing grew heavy and erratic. Her sweaty fingers grasped at the desk underneath it desperately, her head bent back by magistrate Ancunín’s hand pulling on her hair.

“M-magistrate… Ancunín…!” She whimpered breathlessly.

A broken yelp left her when the magistrate pulled out of her unprompted. His hand released her hair. She shivered and turned to look behind her.

“Turn over.” The magistrate panted.

Tav blinked and pushed herself up from the desk with some effort. She flipped over and magistrate Ancunín helped her lay down on her back on top of the desk. He grabbed her knees and spread her legs, aligning himself between them and pushed back inside her with a loud groan before crashing their lips together.

He licked at her upper lip and wasted no time pushing his tongue between her teeth and intertwined it with hers. She kissed him back with the same fervor, both of their moans muffled by each other’s hungry mouths.

Tav blinked at him through the kiss and watched as his face softened with pleasure. The tense frown was gone, replaced by a pleased furrow instead. He broke off and a broken string of spit fell onto Tav’s breasts. Magistrate Ancunín grinned as he gripped Tav’s sides and fucked into her harder.

“You were so obediently quiet before. I want to hear you scream in turn.” He panted and smirked wickedly.

He slammed his hips into Tav and her eyes rolled back in reaction to the mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Ahhh!” She moaned.

“Louder, darling. Nobody except me can hear you inside these walls.”

He slammed into her again.

“AhhHHHnh!”

“Louder.”

“AHHHHH MAGISTRATE ANCUNÍN!!!” Tav shouted blissfully.

“You’re so pretty when you say my name…”

Tav’s face contorted and her whole body shivered.

“M-magistrate… Ancun… ín… I’m going to… going to…!”

“You’ll cum when I say you can, darling.”

Tav heaved in blissful frustration, her back arching off the desk, ass tender, legs shaking against the magistrate’s sides as she fought against her approaching orgasm. The magistrate slowed down to help her come down, his own body jerking every now and then to chase his own building release.

He stopped still and lifted his hands to play with Tav’s chest. He cupped both of her tits and massaged them, rubbing her perk nipples with his thumbs. She moaned and clawed around his desk for something to grab hold of. The magistrate chuckled.

“Why are you here?”

Tav whined and struggled for words.

“B-because I’m a… a bad girl, your honor…!”

The magistrate pinched her nipples and pulled on them while sliding out of her painfully slow.

“Do you want to be a bad girl?” He questioned and rubbed Tav’s nipples sensually.

Her head thrashed from one side to the other.

“N-no… sir!” She whined, her legs trying to wrap around his waist and pull him back inside of her.

“I-I… I want to be a good girl!” Tav added and pleaded at the magistrate with her eyes, nodding frantically.

She was so agonizingly close. Her abdomen was beginning to hurt from the unfulfilled need. She felt her eyes grow moist from the tears that welled in them.

Magistrate Ancunín gave her a warm smile and gave her nipples one final pinch before releasing them. Tav sighed from the loss of contact, her chest now tingling the same way her ass was.

“You promise to remain a good girl after you leave my office?”

Tav nodded.

“Yes! Yes, I promise magistrate Ancunín sir!” She panted enthusiastically.

“Good girl.” He grinned and slammed back into her.

Tav screamed and threw her head back, letting her voice out in long, broken moans and whimpers as the magistrate began to fuck her in earnest. Her wet walls relaxed to let him in, allowing his length deeper inside.

“P-please… Magistrate Ancunín! Please let me cum!!” She pleaded weakly.

“Not yet, darling. You can hold off a little longer.”

Tav whined and nodded.

Magistrate Ancunín’s own voice broke out and he whined in rhythm to his hips. He hissed and bit his lip, his punishing pace losing focus.

Tav writhed under him, her wet folds pulsing from her barely held back release. She groaned almost painfully, tears breaking free from the corners of her eyes.

“Now darling, cum for me!” He commanded and Tav’s pleasure exploded beneath him.

She screamed his name from the bottom of her lungs and arched her back, her needy cunt milking his throbbing length. Magistrate Ancunín followed soon after, losing himself in her and let go with a husky little whimper. His whole body shook against Tav as his hips rocked into her, jerking the last of his pent up need into her.

He stilled and gasped for air, trickles of sweat now streaming down his face and chest. Tav panted under him, her eyes shut tight as the aftershocks of her orgasm still shook through her nerves. The magistrate pushed himself up, pulled away and stepped back shakily before slumping onto his leather chair.

Tav’s legs felt like uncontained liquid and as soon as they had nothing to support them, fell open and dangled over the firm mahogany desk she was laid on top of.

The office was filled with nothing but their heavy breathing for a good while before an oddly comforting silence took its place. Tav blinked up at the ceiling above, her heartbeat and breathing now calm and steady.

She finally came to enough to push herself up to sit on her still aching ass. She found magistrate Ancunín leaning on an elbow, seated comfortably on his leather chair, legs crossed, his underwear pulled back up and trousers firmly buttoned up again.

His chest was still rising and lowering noticeably heavy, his brows gleaming with sweat.

“I think this concludes your trial. I deem you free to go with a warning. This time.”

Tav managed a weak smile and inched herself off the desk. Her knees felt wobbly, her buttocks ached, and her nipples were swollen, but the pleasant heat now thrumming at her core made everything feel better. She was free to go and more than that, exhilarated by the success of their negotiations.

The magistrate allowed her a moment more of his time to clean up before exiting his office for the night.

On her way down the hall and the near infinite amount of stairs, Tav thought back on her little gigs at the edges of law and was glad to have trailed off to the wrong side of the law for once.

Feeling the combined fluids of their heated negotiations slick the insides of her underwear, she itched to be bad again, in hopes of finding herself back within magistrate Ancunín’s office to be reminded how to be a good girl once more.

[shuttershocky]

I just got done watching the KnK movies (wish I didn’t watching 6 but here we are) and I’ve just gotta ask from the local lore expert:

Why Touko so hot?

She just is. Like, canonically.

Mahoyo's got an extra chapter about Beowulf following Touko around town to see what she gets up to, and the narration goes into how Touko walks with the strut and confidence of a supermodel on the runway and is such a head-turner that she had to invent a charm that makes her appear 40% less attractive just to move around without being ogled.

There's also another chapter where one of Aoko's schoolmates happens upon Touko's temporary corpse (she had such a good time singing karaoke that she drank herself to death) and that girl finds her so hot (despite looking like she drank herself to death) that the girl legitimately questions her sexuality before even thinking about how someone died.

But also, Touko's a fun character because Type-Moon as a setting is about setting up extremely elaborate worldbuilding rules and then breaking all of them without giving a shit, but Touko in particular interacts with the setting in a way that shows she's not above it, she goes around it.

For example, she's hardly the strongest fighter since her talent as a mage is not about combat, so sometimes she hides a monster with her like in Mahoyo or Kara No Kyoukai, or sometimes she just roundhouse kicks a dude in the head to end a fight before it begins like in Case Files.

Another example: as someone that travels constantly and constructs bases everywhere, Touko needs a ton of resources that she can't normally have, due to being a wanted criminal and exiled from her own family. Instead, we see all the various shit she gets up to to keep herself afloat. Touko uses her polymath talent to take on any jobs supernatural and not, such as being paid to hunt down and kill specific targets, making puppets for an art exhibit, designing a major building as its architect, even making an anime. Mahoyo even has her wiping out pachinko houses by using her genius to guess which machines would end up giving the biggest payout, while the material books say that Touko's also set up public transportation for mages (called Touko Travel, it's essentially a magic slingshot from point A to point B) and she makes money from the fare.

Touko gives off the illusion that she's too powerful for the rules to apply to her: she can't be permanently killed, no sealing enforcer has been able to capture her, she goes in and out of every setting in Type-Moon as she pleases, but seeing all the effort she has to put in to maintain that illusion of being above the rules makes her go from a boring hypercompetent character into a cool outlaw, leaving you wondering what sort of absurdity she's up to now.

Plus her boobs are huge

[readychilledwine]

we want the juicy details on your sexual awakening

It's not that juicy. It's actually fairly sad, but someone else may be at this point and need to hear it.

Warning - questionable consent, technically a form of sex work, total power exchange, abusive relationships, mental health issues, learning to adapt, and becoming a survivor instead of a victim.

I was a really really good kid and teen. Like I addressed, I got my kicks from fanfiction. I dated once in high school, and it never went further than kissing (which caused my first break up and broken heart). My first "What is happening to my body," came from watching The Mummy, and it wasn't something I could discuss with anyone besides my older brother who did the best he could to try to talk to me about safe sex.

I moved away from my parents in 2014 and went to a college about 4 hours away. Aka- close enough to mom and dad to drive home once every couple months, not close enough for them to randomly show up. I was an art major focusing on art history and visual design, and that required me to take a life drawing class.

Tender 18 year old Liz, a starving college student working two jobs, ended up catching the eye of one of the male models, and we started talking a lot. I found out after a month of him taking me on dates, surprising me with gifts, and him staying up with me when I'd be lonely because I didn't live on campus have friends, that he was married and him and his wife were looking for a girlfriend for him since she had a boyfriend on the side. I don't regret this choice because it shaped who I am today, but I stupidly agreed to go into it without having set my own boundaries and limits.

He had rules for me. Rules I can recite clearly to this day: he dresses me, I do not make financial choices without him, I am to tell him where I was at all times and leave my tracker on, he decides what I eat and when, no drinking, no smoking, and no other partners. If I listened, he would pay my tuition, books, help with rent, etc. At the time, I did not realize that I was entering a total power exchange dynamic, and he knew that.

Those starter rules evolved into more... sex based rules, and after 3 months, I ended up losing my virginity to him after he told me refusing was breaking his rules, and if I broke his rules, my allowance was cut off, and I really needed help with rent, friends. I am not proud of that decision, but that decision was made.

I stayed in this relationship with him hanging financial security and my own naivety over my head for close to 10 months. My dad is a law enforcement officer, and he is the one who noticed the change in my personality and looks.

I had waist length dark brown hair. I came home blonde with my hair cut to my lower neck. I stopped wearing Converse and Vans and started wearing heels and sandles more. I would get really anxious and upset if I wasn't near my phone or could not find it to meet my required check-ins. I cried. Alot. Yelling made me actually panic. My dad made me sit down with a female investigator and answer questions about everything.

When she was done and confirmed to him what was happening, he then proceeded to get my brothers, a uHaul, and my apartment keys and move me back home. He had my phone bill at that point, so he blocked the couple, her boyfriend, and their friends that I had the displeasure of meeting and ensured I never heard from them again.

Cohearsed consent is not consent. The second I started therapy and realized that, I spiraled. The weight of everything set in, and I realized I had been a victim of sexual assault. I began to cope by being hypersexual. Within a year, I'd had sex with close to 30 people trying to reclaim my body and, in turn, endangering myself until I met my ex fiancé.

When I met him, things changed significantly. He was a stepping stone in my healing and helped me find religion and value in myself beyond my body. Ironically, my healing and finding the wrong religion (catholics don't seem to be a fan of spirituality) is what led to our engagement being called off. I was 21 when we stopped seeing each other.

I slowed down at that point signicantly and cut off all sex. I was done with it and decided never again. I could please me better than anyone else could anyways. Then, I met baby daddy, and we started as strictly friends with benefits. He is the safest dom I've ever had, the kindest man I've ever met, and from the bat, he understood me more than I understood me. He saw me for me and cared for me despite the damaged goods.

He triggered the true awakening. We took sex between us slow, exploring things gently, talking about what I wanted to try and keeping track of what I liked, what he liked, and meeting in a happy middle. He indulged my want to explore with other women and just sat and watched. Then, when we felt I was ready, he introduced me to the swinging/bdsm lifestyle, and it helped me process the remaining bits of trauma I had with him beside me every step of the way. He helped shape me sexually into who I needed to be to heal and then who I deserved to be sexually for me.

I don't know at what point FwB turned into us living together and telling each other how much the other means to us almost daily, but now we're here, cuddling on couch, exhausted from taking care of our daughter, and discussing which one of us gets the last chocolate peanut butter overnight oats packet and *whispers* marriage.

Him and Sophia are the happy ending 18 year old Liz thought she was losing when she was desperate to pay rent. He helped me heal, learn who I was in terms of sex, and gave me the safest place to land.

One might say I'm pretty attached to him forever now 🤣

Ps - let me tell ya, missionary isn't boring when it's with someone who thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, pregnancy stretch marks, and all. 💕

[name-6775]

Here is the second part of my kotlc list of quotes:

Keeper of the lost cities - Neverseen:

“Sometimes rebellion is the only course of wisdom” - Oralie

“And someday they’ll see that. In the meantime, please try to remember that there’s a difference between hiding by choice and hiding from fear. You should never be afraid of who you are” - Della

“We will never be more than a few words away” - Grady & Edaline

“All it takes is one to stand where others fall” - Calla

“You are a sprout, fighting to take root among the rocks of our world. It’s going to cause a few cracks, but that is the only way for you to grow strong” - Calla

‘I will do everything in my power to help my world’

“Glad you made the right choice” - Collective

“This was my choice—and it was the right one. It’s just hard not to want it all sometimes, you know?” - Fitz

“But one should never rely on their enemies to give them hope” - Mr. Forkle

“What I’m trying to realize is that it’s okay to be different. If everyone were the same, we’d all make the same mistakes. Instead we all face our own things, and that’s not so bad because we have people who care about us to help us through” - Sophie

Sophie wanted to do more than hope—she wanted to act

“Welcome to working with the Black Swan. It’s full of disappointments!” - Sophie

“Leaders must lead” - Granite

“It’s remarkable what one can withstand when one feels they must punish oneself” - Mr. Forkle

It was far too easy to misunderstand a single action

“I just need you to promise that you’ll never give up. No matter how hard it gets. Or how hopeless it feels. Never, ever give up” - Edaline

“Sometimes the greatest power comes from showing mercy. Especially to those who may not deserve it” - Sophie

“Answers can be lies. If you really want me to trust you, I need to read your shadowvapor” - Tam

“Hope is all we have left” - Sophie

“I think it’s time to admit the world no longer makes any sense” - Sophie

“He’s not all bad. No one is. That’s what makes villains so scary. They’re not as different from us as we want them to be” - Sophie

“And you stay my brave moonlark, always” - Calla

Keeper of the lost cities - Lodestar:

“Change can be a powerful, inspiring thing when we keep an open mind” - Magnate Leto

“Sometimes things have to get worse before they get better” - Keefe

“Questionable actions can be forgiven when they’re done with good intentions” - Magnate Leto

“Actions never tell the whole story. Good can be done for the wrong reason. And bad can be misunderstood” - Linh

“I’ve often said that it seems we’re attempting to drain the ocean with a leaking spoon. But even if that’s the case, we can either give up, or we can continue taking it one dripping spoonful at a time” - Mr. Forkle

“Dude—this guy uses more hair products than I do!” - Tam

“Oh . . . you know. People I care about are in danger, and none of the adults want my help. Same old, same old” - Sophie

“But I also think we all know the hard choices we have to face for this cause. You don’t defeat a group of murderers with rainbows and candy” - Sophie

“‘If you could change our world, would you?’ And when I said yes, she asked if my answer would be different if the only way to change the world involved breaking rules” Juline / Physic

“We all make mistakes. The only thing we can do is try to move past them” - Juline

“Safety is an illusion. It exists only when we, as a society, agree to enforce it. But theoretically, any situation could turn violent if someone decided to treat it that way” - Mr. Forkle

Some problems were too important to worry about breaking promises

“Gold is a weak metal. But we are strong. We don’t build houses or walls for protection. We build them to have a place that inspires awe—a place worth defending” - Sandor

“Trust me, I know enough about these things. Sometimes there is no fix. Even for elves. This is my swan song” - Mr. Forkle

“Time is a funny thing. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. But then it passes to someone else. You’ll do great things with it, Sophie. Wonderful, incredible things. I’m sorry I won’t be there to see them. But don’t let that stop you from living them. Dream. Fight. Love. Take risks. Allow yourself to be happy” - Mr. Forkle

“Thank you for being brave enough to find me this one last time. You gave me the gift of goodbye” - Mr. Forkle

Keeper of the lost cities - Nightfall:

“Communication can be a powerful weapon, and an essential defense” - Alden

“Sometimes I get sick of being strong” - Sophie

“We wanted her to see that the shadows that scared her could be beautiful and powerful when we learn how to take control of them” - Edaline

“We all have things we hold back. Maybe we have no choice. Or maybe they’re small things that we feel aren’t anyone else’s business. Whatever the reasoning, secrets are simply a part of life” - Mr. Forkle

“The past is the only finite thing in this uncertain world, and in a way, that’s somewhat comforting” - Mr. Forkle

“Embracing violence doesn’t make you strong. True strength comes from finding a peaceful alternative” - Blur

“Sometimes we have to break so we can rebuild ourselves into something stronger” - Lady Gisela

“I know how easy it is to slip into despair, but try not to lose hope” - Edaline

“But the more you complicate a mission, the more it reduces your chances of success” - Mr. Forkle

“It’s not fun having to admit that what you want just . . . isn’t going to happen” - Biana

“You can’t change who you are, or who your family is. Believe me—if I could, I would. All you can do is make sure you’re living by what you believe in” - Tam

“Is a day any less worth living simply because you’re not going to remember it? - Bronte

“I know it still hurts. And I can’t change that. But just . . . know that whatever happens, it’s going to be survivable—and never stop hoping for the happy ending. Sometimes you get one you don’t expect. I’ll definitely be fighting for it with everything I have” - Sophie

“I’ll be fighting for the happy ending too” - Amy

“Because nothing good can come from looking too deeply into the tragedies that can’t be changed” - Quinlin

“You can’t control everything that’s going to happen, Sophie. I know on some level you know that—but I still see you trying. And I understand that instinct. But the real secret to facing these kinds of challenges is to go in knowing that something will go wrong. Many things, most likely. It’s not about perfect plans. It’s about believing you can handle whatever happens” - Mr. Forkle

“The right choice sometimes isn’t easy, Sophie. But that doesn’t mean it’s not right” - Lady Gisela

If you want, you can also put quotes in the comments because I also want to have on the list.

[saintheartwing]

How would you fix The Sith Resurgence?

Okay, well...for one...

The characters from the original series should be IN-character. Leia being the stuck up aristocrat who makes a bad crack about Aliana's mom dying is not something she'd do when she saw her ENTIRE PLANET, INCLUDING her parents, killed by the Empire right before her eyes. Luke just deciding to attack a Sith out of nowhere when her child WAS RIGHT THERE is also out of character and stupid, this was the guy who tried to talk down the EMPEROR, who was a mass-murdering genocidal freak, his own FATHER that betrayed his friends and cut off his hand, I remind you and froze his best friend in carbonite and tortured his OTHER best friend Leia and who's troops killed his family, but even JABBA THE HUTT, a vicious, scummy crime lord who was literally keeping Leia as ARM CANDY in a slutty outfit and Han as FANCY FURNITURE to show off. This is not a person who'd just go in trying to be violent, who wouldn't even TRY to talk you down. That would be the first thing fixed.

Two, we would need to actually see Aliana and Rey doing FAR more to help the average citizen. It's SAID that "oh the people support her over the only democratically elected govt in the galaxy right now cuz she did so much"...but we barely actually see that. We need to see her doing more to help the average person like healing crops or passing out lots of food to starving planets.

Three, Aliana should be called out more when she flat out murders people in cold blood or breaks the law. People need to actually object, to have real counter-arguments, to say that you can't expect people to trust you when you keep showing you'll just do anything you want and fuck the rules or consequences. So she needs to either get far more consequences, or to stop doing that.

Four, they shouldn't be allowed to have positions of power. All they did throughout the story was show they'd abuse it for their own gain and to enforce what THEY think is right, which is their own moral code, not bound by any real voted-on laws or anything, someone even pointed out "Well what if a planet doesn't want them there and does something like voting them out of power" and I think she said (I THINK, I'm not entirely sure about this) that they'd just refuse to leave, that they'd permanently stay in power and make SURE there would BE no counter-party, no opposing power structure. I THINK also there was something like "no men" being allowed to be in their new Sith ruling order or something, like, there'd be specifically two women as the final authorities and it would ALWAYS just be two women.

Five, the Dark Side of the Force needs to actually be presented honestly. At no point is there ANY real consequences to the Dark Side being used shown. The Dark Side is literally supposed to be a corrupting influence that doesn't just MENTALLY screw with you, but PHYSICALLY, your eye color changes, your body gets all lined and freakish and stuff, it has a serious effect on you. This is NEVER shown properly in the story. If you were gonna fix the story, this needs to be fixed too. And those are the five big things I'd change.

[smutbae]

Royal Guard! Law X Princess! Reader NSFW 🔞 Part One

Tw: degradation, explicit sexual content, dirty talk, dom/sub, impiled yandere behavior from law, smut.

*minors dni, get the fuck away from here*

Once upon a time….

There was a large beautiful kingdom located in the North Blue. Inside the kingdom held a powerful and influential family. There was the mighty king and his lovely queen, along with their only child, the princess. The princess was known throughout all the North Blue as being an innocent and gentle soul whose beauty could brighten a gloomy day. She had the whole country in the palm of her hands and at first it was rewarding to be able to one day rule over the great country. But as the years went on and more responsibilities came to her, the young woman realized she did not want this lifestyle and the overbearing duties anymore.

Looking well past the lavish gifts and food being provided to her, she witnessed how horribly the king and queen treated their citizens. Regular men and women were working back-breaking hours only to receive scraps to feed their children. If they complained or protested in any way, they were subjected to public humiliation or were beaten down by the guards until they stopped breathing. Their poor children were forced to watch as their beloved parents were being whipped until there was no more skin on their backs. The shock and horror on the children's faces were forever sketched into the princess's memory. 

Once the princess became of age, she sought out ways to take over the kingdom; to change the vile ways her parents have so long enforced onto their people. Unbeknownst to her, the king and queen had assigned their daughter a new guard to watch over her. His name alone struck intense fear into the hearts of many people. Formerly known as the Surgeon Of Death, he changed his path and became a royal guard known as Law. Tall, dark, and mysterious were the only attributes people knew about him. When he first met the princess while returning from an important mission, he was notably stoic and cold to her. Believing her to be a rotten spoiled brat with the image of a pure golden child, he tried to distance himself from the young woman but failed miserably and hilariously.

As months went by and seasons changed, so did his attitude towards her. The young woman proved him wrong many times and grew to like him more than a close disgruntled friend. Her actions of kindness and compassion to her citizens made his stone heart beat with admiration and even love. But love is a rather strange thing; well it can be filled with peace and everlasting happiness, it can also cause destructive behavior and bring out the worst in people. 

A once pure and innocent woman can turn into something vindictive and deadly….

Before, the royal guard was always giving you a hard time. Scolding you for a few small mistakes, following your every move when you think he is not near, burning daggers into any man who poorly attempted to woo your affections. Yet you never expected something like this.

Your royal guard, Trafalgar Law, would be giving certain looks that you knew were far from innocent. Then came the lingering hidden touches to your arms and waist while you studied or attended to others; it had you craving him more and more each passing day. Unbeknownst to the king and queen, Law would have you on your hands and knees every other night. Moaning your kind little heart out while he has your body writhing in raw unadulterated pleasure and tonight was no different. You had just gotten done with your studies and about to make your way down the empty halls to your bedroom until Law stops you by gently grabbing your arm. You turn to him and smile dreamily, his warm husky scent overwhelming your senses.

"Is there anything you need, Trafalgar?"

"My lady, would you care to join me this evening? Perhaps in your chambers?"

He ducks down slightly to whisper his request lowly in your ear. You quietly swallow the nervous lump in your throat and nod your head as he pecks the corner of your lips sweetly, knowing well that the kiss was far too tender for what is to come. You take him by his large tattooed hand and lead to your bedchambers, knowing neither servant or royal would be awake at this late hour; so he can have you to himself without all the secrecy.

Law locks the doors swiftly as the two of you make it inside your room. With a mischievous smirk, he pushes you up against the doors with your arms raised above your head, your ample cleavage spilling over the top of the flowy white gown adorning your body. His other hand holding your waist with a possessive grip, he lowers his head down to the junction that connects your neck and shoulder, kissing and sucking dark marks on the soft flesh causing you to let out low moans and gasps. 

"I wonder, what would the king think of this? His most trusted royal guard, fucking his lovely little princess until she can't think straight. It would break his old rotten heart, wouldn't it y/n-ya?" 

He says this in between kisses on your neck and cleavage. A lusty moan escapes your lips when he bites the top of your right breast, licking over the newly created mark to soothe the pain. Your shapely hips wriggle up against his lean muscular frame, his prominent bulge feeling wonderful close to your clothed cunt.

"Traf-"

"That's not what you call when we're alone."

"Sir. Please sir, fuck me until I drip with your seed."

Law groans huskily at how his title falls from your lips and slowly trails both of his hands down to your ass to roughly squeeze, a cute whine encouraging him to kiss you. His sensuous tongue parts your lips and begins eagerly exploring your mouth. His half-lidded gray eyes look down upon your heated face. He wraps his long strong arms around you and lifts your body up with ease. Your legs come around his thin waist as he makes his way over to your welcoming bed.

[faytelumos]

Growing Pains

This is inspired by @thepenultimateword's reformed villain prompts.

cw: self deprecation

---

"This is your new costume," the lady said, pushing a plastic-wrapped, puffy square under the glass. "Inside, there's a voucher for tailoring and for a pair of shoes to match." Breaking Point — er, Turmoil — nodded and took the package in unsteady hands. "This is your tracker, you'll need to wear it at all times, it cannot get wet," the lady droned on, slipping a band through. She hadn't even looked at Turmoil yet. They nodded, taking the bracelet from under the glass. "You'll wait there," she pointed to some desolate, plastic chairs, "until your sponsor arrives to get you. Good luck and stay safe." It wasn't genuine. It kind of sounded like a line a customer service rep repeated ad nauseam.

Turmoil took their pittance of a parting package and sat in one of the hard, cold, plastic chairs. The two enforcers in the hall shifted their weight, perhaps uncomfortable with Turmoil's presence. They couldn't quite tell, but they resisted the urge to reach out with their powers. It was way too early to go breaking their new rules.

They hunched forward, rested their elbows on their legs, and looked down at their new costume. They didn't get to design it. And they hadn't picked their new name. It didn't work like that, apparently. They could maybe change their costume when they had proven themself as trustworthy. But no one had mentioned when they'd be able to change their name.

The new costume was… it was hard to tell through the shrink wrap and under the florescent light, but it looked like some purply-silver getup. There was a pattern, but it was too hard to see. Where everyone got the idea that mental powers were purple, Breaking Point had no idea. But it probably could have been worse. And at least now, they were dressed in something passably casual, some blue jeans and a mint, striped button-up. They'd been afraid they were going to walk out of this place wearing that green jumpsuit.

Somewhere up the hall was a loud buzz. Turmoil and the two enforcers looked up. There were bootsteps, more than one pair, and then a third enforcer and a large man came around the corner.

To say Seismic was intimidating was an understatement. He was easily over six feet, with the shoulders, chocolate curls, and thick, short beard of a cartoon lumberjack. But he wore a baggy tee that said "talk nerdy to me" instead of flannel, and his expression read more cool curiosity than manly indifference.

"You my kid?" he said as Turmoil rose cautiously to their feet. They hesitated. They… weren't young enough to be— "Turmoil?"

"Oh, uh, y-yes." Seismic nodded and kept walking, leaving the third enforcer behind to go to the woman behind the glass. He signed the checkout sheet, then turned and came back to Turmoil. "Uh, thank you f—"

"Yeah, yeah, you're okay," Seismic said, holding up one hand for peace and the other out for Turmoil's stuff. "We can talk on the sidewalk; let's just get you the hell outta here." Turmoil nodded, looking down and offering the things in their hands. The sooner they left the bars and cages, the better.

Seismic tucked the costume under a thick arm and then loosened the tracker bracelet. He reached out and grabbed Turmoil's hand—

—poor kid looked to be all skin and bones, and they shook like Mister Ede's chihuahua—

—Turmoil yanked their hand back as if burned. Seismic looked up, incredulous, and then seemed to understand.

"My bad," he said, carefully holding the bracelet open. Turmoil looked down, trying to hide the way their eyes burned. The echoes of Seismic's emotions lingered, sticky on Turmoil's skin. They reached forward, careful not to touch him again, and he gently tightened the band and locked it in place on their wrist. "Alright," he grunted, and he started walking and motioned for them to follow.

Turmoil stuck close to him, especially as they approached the three security gates. Each buzz and clang felt like a bundle of chains falling off of their shoulders, getting farther and farther from the dirty gloom of this place. Seismic lead them casually out of the facility and into the parking lot. Turmoil blinked at the sharp, evening sunlight, raising a hand to shield their eyes. It was bright outside. And kind of muggy.

"How's the free air taste?" Seismic asked. They looked over to him, still reeling slightly from his touch.

"Uh, it's not exactly free air," they uttered, looking down at their hand. Seismic's mind had been sharp and dominant. Mine. Danger. Protect.

He let out a huff of a chuckle. "Okay, how's the semi-free air taste?" They looked up at him again.

In the natural light, it was easier to see the inhuman details about him. His eyes were a stunning citrine in the light. His hair, dense and curly, swayed just a little, unnaturally, with every minute motion of his head. And his skin, a sun-loved tan, glittered ever so slightly. It made him look… not quite angelic. Maybe just etherial. Maybe just soft.

"It tastes… smoggy."

He laughed briefly, looking around them at the busy street and nearby buildings. "Alright, Debbie Downer, let's get you the hell home." He turned and started walking, and Turmoil followed close beside him. "The other kids are excited to meet you," he said.

"I… thought this was a hero team?" they asked. He blinked, then shook his head slightly.

"Er, yeah. Most of them are in their late twenties. Sorry, I just always call them my kids." They nodded, touching their hand lightly to where he had grabbed them.

"It's okay." They hesitated, and he didn't say anything. They wanted to know more. This would be their… home from now on. "You must be, like, the den father," they ventured. He chuckled, a broad smirk stretching across his face.

"Yeah, basically. A couple of 'em even just call me dad." They nodded, looking down to the sidewalk again. The way Seismic felt about Turmoil, even after just barely meeting them, they weren't surprised. Well, they were surprised. Surprised anyone felt that way about them. A failed villain, a wet dog of a person, now also a lame excuse for a hero. But not surprised that others felt comfortable enough to call him dad.

He suddenly put a hand on their shoulder, giving them a soft squeeze through their scratchy button-up.

"Don't worry about anything right now," he said, looking down at them. Without the sunlight in his face, his eyes were a striking, warm amber. "Let's just get you settled in and put some real food in you."

---

Turmoil was the latest of four rehabilitation cases. The house, a completely normal-looking thing in a completely normal suburban neighborhood, had three sponsors.

The other one Turmoil needed to expect to see a lot was Overcast. They recognized that name immediately; Overcast was a brutal fighter, and she'd killed more than one villain in the field. But Seismic had laughed at the horrified look on Turmoil's face and given them another shoulder squeeze.

"She's harmless," he said as if she couldn't conjure a lightening storm from a clear day.

When the two walked into the house, it surprised Turmoil how… homey it was. There was a beaten-up couch sitting on what was once a plush, light gray, furry rug. The hardwood was scratched up and scorched in several places, just like the off-white walls. There was an electric fireplace with picture frames, crocheted animals, plastic floral arrangements, and post cards atop, all beneath a five-year-old TV. Across the living room, in the dining room, the chairs at the table didn't all match, and there was a pile of jackets and coats against one wall.

Seismic stepped in and around Turmoil, then nodded at the person sprawled across the couch. She lifted her head, black hair and cat-like eyes making her stand out against the cream fabric.

"Nine Lives, Turmoil. Turmoil, Nine Lives."

Turmoil offered a pittance of a wave, caught up in the sharp, yellow eyes. The woman sat up fully, and it seemed her eyes were the only obviously feline trait about her. She looked… guarded. She looked pretty.

"Nice to meet you," she said quietly. It wasn't genuine.

"Nice to meet you, too."

"Where're the others?" Seismic asked, pulling the still-wrapped costume out from under his arm. Nine Lives scratched her chin with long nails.

"Back yard, I think. I don't know; I've been reading."

"Helpful," he said. She huffed dismissively, then laid down again, disappearing into the couch beneath an almost-white afghan. He shook his head. "Your room's this way," he said, already walking up the hall. Turmoil followed. "You'll be sharing with Third Degree." They stepped into a door on the left, and he moved aside so they could see in. The room was pretty evenly divided into two parts, with a bed and dresser on each side. The left half of the room was decorated with band posters, samples of black and shining rock, a fish tank with a turtle, and clothes lain out on available surfaces. On the right half, the bed was dressed with a blue-white comforter and gray sheets, the walls and wardrobe bare. "Overcast will take you shopping soon, same time we get your suit tailored," Seismic said, hefting the costume. "Feel free to go nuts; we can get S.A.I. to cover all of it."

Turmoil nodded, their chest tightening. They still weren't sure about Overcast, dreading meeting her and making a bad impression and earning her ire. But more than that, they just didn't want to disappoint Seismic. They were getting this opportunity because they were young and hadn't killed anybody, not because they really had the ability to be a hero. And Seismic was nice, and anything Turmoil did would reflect on him. "Thanks," they choked. Seismic put a heavy hand on their shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly.

"Take your time, kiddo. Dinner'll be in about an hour."

---

next

[assassuub]

It could have been, if not interesting, at least non-insulting by having a Champions tie-in to this latest X-M*n failure, with the powered Champions getting targeted for having powers (for the third fucking time) despite not being mutants and getting involved in anti-bigotry activism...

But No! Instead:

Ms. Marvel gets killed in a mediocre P*ter P*rker comic she was barely in and is replaced with a bootlicking X-M*n prop who's: immediately throwing away her entire life to push their stupid little ethnostate that she's almost never interacted with; needing a White Blonde Blue-Eyed Girlboss Supreme to explain how discrimination works to her, a clearly oh-so-privileged brown Pakistani-American Muslim girl; and breaking the established rules of the universe that mutants die when subjected to Terrigen Mist.

Tony Stark gets relegated into a side character in his own damn comic, thereby trashing the interesting plotlines with the weapons he was trying to neutralize and Riri Williams with the Ten Rings, who was subjected to off-panel magic corruption again.

Spider-Man got replaced by N*ghtcrawler for a while? I didn't give enough of a shit to care while it was happening and I'm not going to start now.

And all of it because the X-M*n's immortal ethnostate project failed so spectacularly that an extremist group, staffed by the most cartoonishly evil bigots, took over the world, or at least the US or something, and chased the X-M*n off of the planet. Spending your time colonizing outer space and enforcing your white-US-capitalist designs on the rest of humanity worked out well, it doesn't seem! Might as well start calling them the L-M*n with all the big fat Ls they've been taking!

I miss when the X-M*n were cordoned off into their own, halfwitted corner of the Marvel universe, where their taint wasn't being spread on characters I actually like.

But No.

Ms. Marvel's dead and the Champions probably went with her. The Ironheart plotline I was interested in was thrown away in favor of fucking E*ma Fr*st. Nova and Viv have barely shown up outside of that trash "Ms. Marvel's Dead and We're Sad!" one-shot. Spider-Man got fucked over and the worse, mediocre Spider-Man, like, stole Kamala's corpse or some shit? And I'm never going to not be pissed about all this.

[dubconartist]

Copia In FNAF

Rating: T

The silliest thing I've ever written Inspired by a Tumblr post by @pen-to-paper15

A New Assignment-

Copia did not understand why he had been ordered to be a night guard for a disgraced pizzeria. “Why would the Ministry concern themselves with a restaurant for kiddies, hm? And- couldn't I be doing something more, I don't know, important?” It felt like a punishment assignment but he could not think of anything he had done to deserve one.

Read under the cut or on AO3

Sister Imperator pursed her lips in a polite smile, “You will understand when you get there.”

“But, Mom-”

“Ah.” She held up a finger to shush him, brows raised. “Don't argue. You are just the right person for the job. You are going.” There was no malice in her tone but no room for argument either. Sister Imperator was one of very few people the Papa would trust without further explanation. He had known her for so long she had always felt like a mother to him and very recently he had discovered that was exactly who she was. His mother looked at him with pride in her smile and that was all the encouragement he needed to acquiesce, the idea of her being proud of him.

He knew what had happened at that place back in the 80s, he had been a teenager at the time and he remembered the slightly nauseous feeling he had gotten when he heard about a string of missing children believed to be connected to a place called Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. One of those pizza places that had singing animatronics that were unbelievably hideous and always malfunctioning. It seemed like the type of place where something terrible would happen.

In the decades that followed, whenever the subject of an unsolved mystery came up, the missing children would pop into the minds of so many and for those who were too young to remember it was not a tragedy but a curiosity, it held no more weight than an urban legend.

Copia hated that that was what tragedies often became, unimaginable pain and a person-shaped hole left in someone's life reduced to nothing more than a campfire story for entertainment. The thought of those kids unsettled him and he was expected to what? Just hang out in the very place where terrible things probably happened and be left alone with his thoughts?

———

Copia Plays The Game-

Copia showed up in his tracksuit with a backpack of snacks and various bits and bobs he liked to have on hand. He had been given a security guard’s uniform and a badge with the mascot’s face on it. He chose not to wear either because it made him feel like a cop out to enforce the status quo. That was a concept that went against everything he believed in as a member of the clergy. At The Ministry he had been encouraged to break a rule he disagreed with, so long as Copia could explain why he disagreed with it. It kept him open to new perspectives, untethered by staunch teachings of traditionalism.

-Hour One-

When Copia arrived there was no one there to tell him off for being out of uniform, so he sat himself down in the security office and flicked through the cameras as he wondered what his mother had wanted him to achieve by coming here. It was quiet as he switched through the camera rapidly, not actually taking in any of the images, just pressing the buttons to press the buttons. He noticed the power would flicker if he left the monitor on too long as if even the smallest power usage was close to overloading the system. He tried to turn off the metal fan but the switch was broken and the plug was stuck somewhere behind the desk so he let it be. Save for the buzz of that permanently on fan the place was quiet, which made it all the more jarring when the hush was broken by the shrill ring of the landline.

The Papa moved to pick it up but it beeped and went to voicemail automatically, playing the sound aloud. “Hello, hello? Uh... I wanted to record a message for you to...” The guy on the phone went on and on for several minutes, the sound of his voice filling the room and drifting down the halls. “...amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe…” Copia thought he heard the sound of quiet singing, “Da da dum dum…” it sounded like it was somewhere in the building. “...could cause a bit of discomfort- and death…” The singing was gone when the call ended so Copia figured it was just something in the background on the phone.

So, according to the man on the phone the animatronics were dangerous, deadly even. Was that why Sister Imperator had requested he be here? But why would buggy robotics require a satanic pope? There had to be something more to it. As he flicked through the cameras Copia noticed the bunny animatronic was not on stage with the others. He flicked over to the next camera and found it was standing in the middle of the dining area, the low resolution and shadows obscuring its features so it was hardly more than a towering outline.

-Hour Two-

Two hours into the night had become uneventful, still, he flicked through the cameras, cycling through until he got back to the beginning. Copia half hummed, half mumbled, Mary On A Cross to himself and hoped his father never found out how good he actually thought that song was. He took out a juice box as watched the characters move around, sometimes roaming near the security office only to amble back to their stages once more. If this was all the free roaming mode did, while unsettling, it should be simple enough. He flicked back to CAM 1C, the curtain to the stage was open and he could see an animatronic peering out. Copia could not make out much of its features, only glowing eyes and long thin teeth.

-Hour Three-

There was a strange flicker in his vision, a slumped shape of an animatronic bear in disrepair, similar in design to the one on the stage but yellow in color. For a brief moment the shape was as clear as anything on the desk before him. “Gotta be a gas leak.” He blinked to clear his vision and the bear disappeared as quickly as it had shown up.

There was a clanging noise somewhere down the right hall so he checked the camera to see what was happening. He could not see any movement on any of the right hand cameras but the one in the kitchen was not working and the ugly yellow bird animatronic was not visible anywhere so he figured he knew what the noise must be. The surge of power from monitoring the cameras so long dimmed the lights a bit and he wondered what would happen if the power went out and one of those things was at the door.

The noise from the kitchen had ceased but when he checked to see where it had gone now Copia still could not find the animatronic anywhere in the building. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach and he switched on the light in the right hall.

There it was, staring right at him. Copia quickly closed the door before it could get in. “Eugh” he grimaced at the thing looking at him. It was filthy, its watchful eyes were rimmed in grime, its metal beak hung loosely open, and it was watching him. He went back to the monitor to see where the others were. The stage on CAM 1C was empty and he could hear the distinct sound of running in the hall outside.

He closed the door just in time and heard the sound of something slamming at the metal. The power waned in the room a moment, lights flickering, threatening to kick off. “You stop that!” he scolded through the door. When he turned to look at the awful yellow thing on his left it was still watching him. He approached the window and looked at the thing carefully. It was more than just malfunctioning systems behind those eyes, it was aware. There was something, someone, inhabiting it.

So this was it, was it? The reason this place needed someone like him. He spoke to the thing on the other side of the glass. “Which one are you then? Do you even remember?” It did not respond, perhaps the spirits were too weak to overcome the thing holding it. He could help with that easily enough. If there was one thing Satanic popes could do, it was conjure. “Tenebris dominus fortitudinem. oriri exspiravit memento exspiravit.” Copia repeated the prayer until the lights flickered out and the doors opened. In the dark he saw a shape shuffling into the room, approaching on either side of him.

They stopped in front of him and did not move to attack. In the darkness only the glow of their eyes was visible. Copia fumbled around in his bag until his hand closed around the object he was looking for. There was a small click and the man's face was lit from below by a flashlight. “Hello!” His gentle accent was good humored and he took a sip from the juice box in his other hand. “Do you guys happen to know where the breaker room is?”

———

[A Papa's Care]

They were gathered together in the dining area. The children's spirits, fully aware and in control for the first time in who knows how long, seemed unsure of what to do. The child inhabiting the bunny animatronic examined their hands, turning them over and moving the fingers experimentally. Copia could not imagine what they were thinking, to be a child of flesh and blood one day and this the next. It must be painful. Or lonely. Or both. Physically, they might be nothing more than metal and fabric but they moved under their own will now. They belonged to themselves again.

The Papa rifled through the backpack until he found a lint brush and a bleach pen. He cannot change what they were not but perhaps he could comfort them a bit. Copia took care as he brushed the thick layer of dust that had muddied their fabric, scraping away the years that faded them to unearth the bright color underneath. He scrubbed gently with a bleach pen.“Why is there pizza grease on your face?”

I was hungry replied a voice of a little girl, Susie, in the back of his mind.

“How could you be hungry? You're a Ghost! That doesn't even make sense.” He wondered if he would ever figure out the rules and limitations for ghosts. Susie shrugged the large yellow shoulders of the shape she inhabited. She did not know either.

Some spaces on their torsos were colored with a deep browned staining that he would not be able to clean away, as if something had leaked out through the weak points in the metal forms as it rotted inside them. That told the Papa all he needed to know about why these things were possessed. If the person who did this was still around he would raise the fury of hell against them.

Copia was well into the story he was entertaining them with, one he knew they would never have gotten to hear. “...and he tells him, ‘It’s over Anakin! I have the high ground, man!’ and then he glares at him and goes ‘You underestimate my power!’ and he jumps up, like…” He acted out the motions as he told the tale and the children were rapt in attention.

The children did not speak aloud but he could hear them in his mind in errant thoughts that came to him from someplace outside of himself. They were comforted, happy, for the first time in decades. The child that possessed Freddy, Gabriel whispered a voice in the back of his mind, swung his legs where he sat on the edge of the stage. So obviously childlike in motion that there could be no doubt that that was what he was.

Copia was excited by the prospect of showing these children all the things they had missed. They could be free now and while they had been gone far too long to be within his power to give them life again, they could still experience some of the joys that had been stolen from them. He could care for them. Papa Nihil had his demonic children, Copia could have these ones.

Copia was pulled out of the story at the sound of distant thudding. The noise of something large beating behind a wall around one of the corners. Copia could sense a spike of fear that was not his. The children knew what it was that made that noise and they were afraid of it. “Is that him then?” He knew what the answer would be even before the child in the fox animatronic, Fritz, nodded. “Hm.” He grabbed something small from his bag and walked off in the direction of the noise until he found a wall that shook from a force on the other side.

He stood silently and watched a crack spread across the drywall. The children peaked around the corner, wanting to know what would happen. There was a quiet fury boiling under the surface as the Papa waited to see the thing that had, very rightly, been sealed away, kept from harming any more of the decent people in this world. The thing behind the wall had also been awoken by the satanic prayer Copia had used to strengthen the children’s spirits. If he had known this was here he would have been more specific in his wording but he would deal with it nonetheless.

A metal hand partly covered by rotting yellow fabric broke through the wall. Copia sneered at the thing inside, knowing exactly what it had done to deserve its fate. “I know not what you did but I should thank you. I have not felt this strong in years.” The thing sounded amused and as it opened its mouth wide to laugh Copia glimpsed a decayed face inside the tarnished yellow costume. Its lifeless jaw hung open, the image of a soundless scream, as if it had died in unspeakable pain. Well that's a nice thought, Copia smiled. The long ago rotten body still inside the suit could be heard creaking and breaking under the motion as the spirit piloted the contraption that had ended its life.

Its hand grabbed at Copia's shirt, pulling him near, impatient to continue with the violence that it had been force to give up with its breath. The living man did not resist being dragged closer. Instead, as he was moved he flicked on a lighter and held it to the things arm. The greasy worn fabric caught immediately and the thing pulled away batting at the flame. “That will not be enough.” It mocked as the fire began to diminish.

“No, but this will.” Copia replied, “Tenebris dominus fortitudinem damnare ignem.” The Papa intoned and the flame burst to life again, a bright blue, as if fueled by something more than the creature it consumed. The thing roared as the flames spread quickly. As a member of the Clergy all his life, creating hellfire came as natural as sin to the Papa. Copia enjoyed the sheer panic in its movements as the hellfire ate away at what was left of him and spread through the room he was trapped in.

The fire began to consume everything it touched, it spread to the ceiling, into the hall. The entire building would be ash come morning and the spirit would be cast into Hell. Copia turned to the children as they watched the glow spread. “Come,” he waved them toward the exit, “let's get you to safety.” The four figures did not move. “I'll take you to the ministry. You will be safe there. You can have the childhood that was taken from you. You can stay with me!” Jeremy only shook his head slowly.

Long gone, a child's voice whispered in his mind. Go, the voice told him.

[Afterlife]

A coughing Copia stumbles out of the building, smoke billowing behind him. Sister Imperator is resting against the side of his car. He did not know she had followed. Perhaps she had wanted to make sure that help would not be far if he needed it. He crumpled into his mother's arms when he reached her. “Oh. My little Cardi.” She rocked him slightly in a hug.

“They were just kids.” It was all he could think to say. The sticking point of his thoughts since he walked in the building. They were just kids and they would never get to be anything else.

“You helped them. It's alright.” She patted his cheek and opened the car door.

The roaring and crackling of fire had become audible from outside the building. The unholy flame would not just burn what it touched but would force the spirits to release their hold on this plane. They would have no choice but to move on to Hell.

It was not as it would sound to most. His upbringing taught him that God abandons most of his creations, only allowing those he deemed significant and impressive into the heavens. Nearly all people went to hell, but most did not suffer there because Satan knew what it was to be rejected by his Creator and so the abandoned were sheltered. Copia knew The Old One had grown to love humanity as they persisted through God's unjust punishments like someone who had once disliked rats but whose heart panged to see one caught in a trap. In hell children did not suffer, they played. The souls of the damned did not cry for mercy in the flames but were comforted by the warmth.

His eyes began to drop in the passenger seat as he let Sister Imperator drive them away. When he drifted into an exhausted sleep he saw a group of children crowded around a terrible horned creature, it knelt before them so as to look them in the eye as it spoke gently, “You will never walk alone. You can always reach me.” it offered a clawed hand to one of the children and it smiled when the boy took it. “You will never, ever, walk alone.”

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Burn

for Angstpril, Day 20: I Can't Go Back

cw: electrocution; exploitative/manipulative system, including exploitation of minors

prev ///// masterlist ///// next

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It had been kinda nice to work as a team.

Technically, they were all part of one giant team before leaving Titanium, but Akeela didn't get much chance to work with the others. Sarah was restricted to reconnaissance, Rosie was mostly sent on solo missions that played to her powers, and Hugo was practically chained to a computer, running intel. 

But this morning, before the sun had even risen, Hugo had banged on her door to wake her up, a laptop tucked under one arm.

The screen had been packed with techno gibberish when he held it out to her, until he pointed out one crucial line:

Terminate Cinder.

The guy who'd threatened Sarah. The guy who Sarah wanted to save anyway.

They'd woken up the others, and left in a rush.

Hugo had done most of the work, diving into the Titanium servers he'd spent so long hacking, and eventually coming up with a general location. Sarah was up next, playing 'I Spy' in that corner of town, looking for the runaway assassin. 

When he stepped off the bridge, it was Rosie who swam out to save him, pushing through the electric shocks that wouldn't stop spewing from his collar.

And on the frantic journey home, it was Akeela who'd helped carry him, just in case he started a panicked burn.

She kinda admired Cinder. Not in a weird way, and not because he was a good fighter, or strong, or powerful, but because he'd done the impossible. Escaped the shadow of Corporate.

Before he'd broken into their hideout, Akeela had honestly never heard of Cinder, but once the team had regrouped, cleaned up, and prepared to move, she'd looked him up. Assassin, she already knew from Sarah. But his powers were also unregistered, 'untrained' by legal definition, and he'd never officially worked for a Corp until Uriah Fox came along.

He'd come from the Underneath. Nothing crazy, most criminals did, but she'd never heard of someone with fire powers, someone like her, who'd managed to outrun both the law and Corporate for as long as Cinder had.

Fire was dangerous. Fire needed to be controlled. An Empowered who could turn invisible, or make flowers grow, or change the shapes of the clouds, might be able to live under the radar, but someone made of fire held the power to destroy. They ended up owned or dead.

Except for Cinder. And yeah, Uriah had caught him, put him on a leash, but he'd broken it. Just like her. 

Akeela wished she could've been more like him. Free in the 'Neath, hiding from the Hero-Corps long before they even got a chance to put her in their system. But her parents had both been normal, working class people who wanted the best for the daughter they were told could grow up dangerous without the right training.

They'd handed their little girl off to Titanium and never seen her again.

And Akeela had trained. Trained and trained and trained her childhood away, shaping her fire until they told her she was safe enough to stay alive, then being told if she wanted to keep it she'd have to sign a contract.

She'd been ten at the time, whisked away to a little monitored room at Titanium headquarters, assigned to a team, given missions.

She'd fought people like Cinder. Hurt them, burned them, put them behind bars. Because Mr. Fox had a contract with law enforcement, and the law had no problem laying out who was good and who was bad.

For so long, she'd wanted to be good. But she didn't know what good meant anymore. Every day the middle ground, the gray space between, seemed to grow a little wider, and that gray space made sense.

Akeela fit right into the gray. She'd hurt people, but she didn't like it, but she'd do it again to save her team. Everyone on her team was right there with her; willing to break rules and fight and bleed if it meant getting one step closer to destroying Uriah. Maybe Cinder was there too. 

He'd hurt people, but so had she. He'd worked for Titanium, but he'd had no choice, and neither had she. They were just alike. Two peas in a pod.

After all she'd read about him, it was weird seeing him in the guest room. Wrapped in a blue sheet, wearing a tense, guarded expression. His throat was bandaged to protect the electrical burns that circled it, and the scarred skin that had become visible after Hugo took the cybernetic arms away was red and irritated, like he'd never once taken a break from them.

He wasn't a super happy camper when she'd tried to talk to him, but that was understandable. He was angry. She hoped he'd realize soon that they were all angry too. At the city, at the rules, at the politicians who danced like puppets when companies like Good Knight and Racehorse Industries and Titanium tugged on their strings. 

They had more raw power than a nuclear reactor; thousands of Empowered, bound by contracts, kept in line by the fear of being Redlined. All doing their masters' bidding. 

Sarah said Corp needed to burn. Luckily, burning was something Akeela was good at. Firebrand, firestarter, little miss bic lighter. If Cinder would join them, the flames would only rise, get harder to put out. 

And then, maybe they could actually make a difference. Maybe they could stop looking over their shoulder.

Maybe they could free everyone.

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@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing

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Absolute least favorite trope in the fic: inserting new world-building so that the controversial actions that Alder does in canon are all rationalized into woobie-bait. Examples: "Alder was forced into the Biddy bond!" "The Martyrdom was actually a lesser evil!" "Alder felt regret about signing the Accords!" "Alder was forced into doing things by men in power!" Since fucking when has the US military been meaningfully held accountable for anything, or their power (and the military industrial complex) had a reduction in growth? Name me one irl modern general that doesn't believe wholeheartedly in militarism. The nation can do much wrong by the rank and file (including appalling treatment of veterans), but the brass? Hah. And neither do the brass of the MFS military waver in their belief in militarism, either. We know that they could play malicious compliance via things like Tally's dispensation if they wanted to. They don't want to. The "magical enforcement" didn't stop Dodgers from existing, nor did it stop Nicte from deserting. The slow-play of the invasion of the Cession could have just as easily been done in their deployments in other nations, or in their hunting of Dodgers (like Scylla's parents). (Even Anacostia doesn't have a problem with torturing Scylla for information. "Gotta break a few eggs." No one agitates for the closure of GuantanamoSt. Dominique, either. There's no doubt in my mind that MFS's detention centers carry the same controversies as our world's.) No. Alder not only has no regrets about the Accords, she believes in them. She truly believes that all witches under her jurisdiction should serve, and that it is an honor to do so. She believes in the concept of glory in battle, and wishes for her soldiers to, as well. Alder's instinct is to hide inconvenient information from the chain of command and the public, which further proves that if she wanted to commit malicious compliance and covertly get around the wishes of those in power, she could, but she chose not to because she doesn't have a problem with the Accords or the wars she's been in. Most relevantly, Alder maintained the conflict of the Spree as an alternative to nationalist conflict. Letting the Spree propagate was her solution to Liberia. That is how she thinks, not even the smallest inkling that maybe she could modify the Accords and aim for our world's progressive strategy of pushing anti-discrimination policies and full civilian population integration/equality/equity. The idea of de-militarization is borderline anathema to her. She doesn't see conscription as slavery at all, but an honorable duty. Someone who says "I never needed The Hague's approval for my actions. I simply extend the invitation to accept my rulings." has a particular relationship to power. If the director of the CIA said this, we would not pretend that they are laboring under the yoke of anyone. Nah, that's just plain ol' mundane deep state. (Meanwhile, in 3x4 the scene with Alder and the Marshal shows that she definitely did not take on or continue using the Biddy working under duress. She's grateful for it, he's not morally indicted for using it, and they called the exchange "sharing." In fact, that might even imply that the Marshal could have been willing to share the Working without the deal, but Alder negotiated the creation of the Cession as thanks.) These characters are so much more interesting when they are allowed to do women's wrongs, for this show to explore how a world of alternative supremacy means that those alternative figures of power will still commit the same ethical pitfalls with it. Let them commit war crimes, as a treat! The relationships are so much more interesting when they have to grapple with real universal flaws instead of hand-waving them with "[other demographic]'s prejudice made me do it."