#they are different species!!! but i have a feeling this woman could find a way

[th3-c0rps3-r0gu3]

Arranged marriage

Chapter three

Royal au

Princess Natasha X queen autistic reader

Warnings: Natasha being a bitch. Natasha being jealous. Woman flirting with y/n. Swearing (minor) lemme know if there anymore. Natasha getting feelings? Oblivious y/n

Natasha pov

I want to rip out my eyes. Why on earth am I here. This is so stupid. Riding in a carriage with this idiot queen. Those are my first thoughts as I stare angrily out the window of the carriage me and queen y/n are sitting in. Said queen is hiding from the crowds of people outside the carriage. She's so backwards. Never wanting too many people around and only tolerating socialisation for a specific time frame before vanishing for sometimes days. In my opinion she's not fit to be a queen.

Fresh air finally. I think to myself as me and the idiot behind me climb out the carriage into the town square. People have crowded near the carriage. Ofcourse they have. Their "queen" is here. I grumble slightly as the guards help down y/n. Gods she can't even get out a carriage by herself what a useless idiot. I don't know why but my thoughts of rage and hatred have increased towards y/n. Perhaps it's to make up for the fact she's cute and her hands are soft and she really nice. Like right now with how she's thanking the guard who helped her over and over like the absolute sweetheart she is. What. No. Absolutely not. Y/n is a idiot on the throne and I will murder her. I don't find her cute I don't find her sweet and Queen y/n is not a sweetheart.

There's a wyvern on that houses roof. I wonder if y/n will notice it and rant about its species. I already know it's a wyvern because y/n said earl- why am I thinking that. It's just an idiot dragon. And boom y/n has seen it. She's ranting again. Gods I hate it. What on earth is a blood bellied wyvern and why does it matter. That dragon was black not red. I hate cobblestone too now that I think about it. My heels keep threatening to buckle beneath me. Good thing I'm an absolute goddess and can walk in heels anywhere.

Y/n pov

The carriage ride to the town square was quiet. I didn't want to interrupt Natasha too much. And if I spoke even a word I'm pretty sure she'd tell me to shut it anyway. Besides looking out the window was fun. I saw so many different dragons. I wish I could've been able to get a proper look so I could see what species they are. There's so many people outside watching the carriage though. I should've held this off until my social battery filled again. I am going to hate this trip. I really should stop letting Natasha's parents coerce me into stuff.

Finally the carriage stops and the doors open and fresh air hits me like a train. I go to step out but a guard offers me a hand. I have told them to stop doing that. They really should listen I can get out of my own carriage. But I accept his help not wanting him to feel foolish. The cobblestone streets are filled with people and horses and carriages. I like the town. Aside from the bustling people and market stalls scattered around the town square it's a nice break from the palace. A nice break from being a queen. Princess Natasha is scowling. Like always. I am pretty sure it's her default expression.

Me and the princess have walk a little now. Passed a stall selling dragon egg remains. I don't like those stalls. They often steal and break dragon eggs to get the product. I shudder slightly. Natasha hasn't been paying any attention. She's been grumbling about idiots and cobblestone. She wore heels so I guess that's why. Should've worn flat shoes like me. I did tell her so. I look up at the houses around us and.. no way. A blood bellied wyvern right there on the rooftop of a civilian house. They only come down this way in the winter! I've never seen one before aside from in books.

My mouth is running again. I never know why I do this. But I excuse myself mentally this time since I've never witnessed this dragon before. Their scales are reflective of their blood colour which is why they're called blood bellied wyverns. Well the belly part is because you see the actual veins and blood but still. I haven't had a single interruption from Natasha yet. She's just walking silently beside me as I rant. I slow down and pause looking at the queen feeling a bit bad now. I must've pissed her off in some way again.

"are you ok princess?"

I ask hesitantly. I don't like the way Natasha has paused. She's staring at me funny and I'm prepared for her to scowl and scream at me. She huffs instead.

"I'm fine just keep walking."

I blink surprised as Natasha keeps walking and I speed up to catch up to her.

Natasha pov

She's still ranting. Something about the wyverns scales reflecting their blood colour.. oh that's why it's called whatever it was. I can't help but steal glances at y/n. She's so annoying. So very annoying. And absolutely perfect at the exact same time. No. I won't go down that rabbit hole. I am not stupid. Falling in love is for pitiful useless peasants. Not royalty. Why does my heart not agree with my head. It's stupid. I'll fix it.

"are you ok princess?"

Y/n's voice stops me. That's not about dragons. I glance down at her attempting a scowl but I can't respond. She's looking at me with wide y/e/c eyes and I can't help but find her expression adorable. No. No no no no no. She's not adorable and she's not cute. I huff slightly shaking away all those intrusive thoughts

"I'm fine just keep walking"

I scowl again as I pick up pace once more. Y/n speeding up to get back to my side. She's so small. Like a puppy. No. Absolutely not. Puppies and y/n have nothing in common. I'll kill her. And I won't feel bad about it and I won't regret it. Everything will be fine. I go to yell at y/n as per normal but she's not by me anymore. I glance around and.. there. By a stall selling books and scrolls. I stand and watch her annoyed. Ofcourse she'd stop to look at scrolls and books. And judging by her expression it's dragon bullshit again. The woman serving her is leaning over the counter and talking to y/n about different species. That grin on the merchants face. That's not a friendly grin...

It's been ten minutes and y/n has not stopped talking to the merchant. She's bought atleast three books and five scrolls. And that merchant is clearly flirting with y/n. Doesn't she know the queen is engaged. To me no less. Why is this bothering me. I mean I should be annoyed it's taking so long that's normal but why am I pissed that the queen is being flirted with. Why does it irritate me more than the books. I want to tear that merchant's eyes out and turn them into a necklace for y/n to wear and I don't know why.

She touched her arm. That merchant touched y/n's arm. And I don't like it. Rage hits me like a brick. That bitch can't touch what's mine. There is a clear engagement ring on the queen's finger and it's public knowledge that y/n is betrothed to me. I storm over absolutely enraged at this pathetic sellers attempt to steal MY y/n. Swiftly wrapping an arm around y/ns waist I glare down my nose at this merchant. Watching in sick satisfaction as she backs up scared. Good to know she recognises me.

"back the fuck away from my fiancee."

I snarl. Pulling y/n closer to me. She's so small and she's looking at me shocked. I'll deal with it later. That merchant gets the hint and backs up mumbling apologies and handing y/n her books. I grab them and pull the queen with me away and back towards the carriage. I don't y/n until we are both in the carriage and leaving.

Y/n pov

I saw a dragons scroll and books stall. That looked fun so I told Natasha I was looking at it and went over. I haven't seen this stall before and it has so many books and scrolls. Most I already own but a few I don't! I immediately purchase the scrolls and books I don't have. It would be foolish if I didn't. A waste. Besides I'm the queen I can do as I please. The merchant running the stall is wonderful too. She's really friendly. Immediately we are in conversation about gilded bronze dragons and their subspecies. I haven't met a single other person who could talk dragons with me.

Don't recognise the touch at first. The seller just put her hand on my arm and smirked at me. I blink and smile back not really knowing what's happening before I'm grabbed into someone and the merchant is backing away. I frown wanting to continue talking about dragons and books still. I glance at the person who grabbed me prepared to tell them off for grabbing me politely because yelling at people is Soo mean and I don't have the heart until I realise the person who grabbed me is princess Natasha romanoff.

"back the fuck away from my fiancee."

Natasha scowls at the merchant as she pulls me closer. I didn't realise how much taller the princess was compared to me. Jesus Christ am I actually that short. I blink slightly and glance around trying to gouge out if this is normal or weird and nope this is definitely weird the townspeople are looking at us funny. I'm about to speak until Natasha grabs my books and scrolls and begins dragging me back to the carriage. I don't even argue with her I'm in a state of shock. I never thought I'd see the day Natasha would get... Jealous?

A/n: I am sorry this is so late I didn't like the ending originally and rewrote it like three times so I haven't been on much but I've started chapter four and I will go back to normal posting again I promise.

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[sabraeal]

fruit of the bitter tree, Chapter 1 [King's Beast | Ou no Kemono, Taihaku/Rangtsu]

[Read on AO3]

Written for @obiyuki-beebs, who has been a long time sufferer of this B-ship with me. One of the newer OnK chapters came out right before I asked for her birthday request, while we were both still wallowing in the DREAD GRIP of this pairing, and I was all too happy to be the first person to write fic for these idiots.

The decision to take on a new aide is one Tenyou-sama does not make lightly. The pavilion of the fourth prince has always been leanly staffed— at least according to Taihaku, who grumbles each time he tallies up the two ajin guards and one civil servant that populate the sprawling palace— but with the increased responsibility of becoming third prince—

“You can’t possibly expect me to take this on alone,” Taihaku tells him, belatedly— if reverently— tacking on, “Your Highness.”

Rangetsu does not naturally speak out both sides of her mouth, not the way the other courtiers do— the way Taihaku can, his words still light despite the weight of the double meaning they carry. But she has learned to listen for them, for the lacuna between breaths, for the way eyes often shoulder the burden that voices cannot. And Taihaku’s is all too plain.

A prince might suffer so few servants, the twitch in his cheeks mutters as the vein in his temple shouts, but an emperor cannot.

Tenyou-sama receives both rebukes with the same abashed bemusement as he takes most of Taihaku’s scoldings, head just barely bowed and smile strained at the corners.

“Of course.” One hand curling open, his magnanimity as reflexive as his kindness. “You are right, as always.”

Caught halfway through forming his next argument, chest puffed large as a bellows, Taihaku practically deflates, hollowed out beneath the tense line of his shoulders. “Oh. Ah. Are you really—?” His teeth snap around the rest of the question, dispelling it with a clearing of his throat. “I mean, thank you, master. Your wisdom is unimpeachable.”

One side of Tenyou-sama’s mouth twitches, stretching toward a smirk. “In this matter, at least. I have full trust that you will pick out someone suitable.”

“Me?” Taihaku’s jaw falls slack, one hand raised to sweep back the fall of his fringe before he remembers himself. “You mean—? Wouldn’t you rather select…?”

This time Tenyou-sama allows himself the smirk, one elegant brow sweeping up the smooth expanse of his forehead. Rangetsu’s fingers itch to trace its path. “You’re not the only one with more work, you know.”

“Ah…” Confusion converts to consternation, a bright flush creeping up from the collar of Taihaku’s robe, painting up the tense column of his neck. “Right. Of course.”

Tenyou-sama may be beautiful in that way that blossoms flutter on the breeze, or snow gathers on stone, but it’s Taihaku the palace maids giggle over. There’s something pleasant about his mouth, she’d heard one say, after he asked her to change out the arrangements in the fourth prince’s pavilion. I like watching him speak.

Rangestu had tried to see it— she’d had plenty of opportunity when he’d found her next, since he’d launched right into an impassioned lecture on the number of feet the fourth prince’s guards should keep on the ground when at court. Through all the sneering and snorting and snide remarks, she hadn’t found much of it pleasant to say the least.

But there is something about the way his jaw works that attracts her attention now; the jump of the tendon, perhaps, as it sets, or how delicately his throat bobs when it swallows. Or perhaps it is merely the grit of his teeth, the smile that is more nerves than nicety as he says, “I won’t let you down.”

Like an ajin’s, she realizes. That’s what his smile is like. And when she angles her own up to him, chasing his heels as he stomps out the door, he scowls back.

“Don’t,” he warns, darkly, “even think about making more work for me.”

“I was just wondering,” she says, trotting past his shoulders. “If my brother still has that liquor the Kougai-sama gave him.”

*

“This is just like him!” Beside her and Sogetsu, it is easy to forget that Taihaku’s official title was guard rather than aide for the first stumbling years of her tenure. But there is strength in the arm that he drops, leaving the table trembling beneath its weight. “I tell him there’s a problem, and then he— he goes off and gives me the power to fix it! Because gods forbid he actually…”

His voice drops to a mumble, muffled by the hand he curls over his mouth. Even with her ajin ears, Rangetsu can’t make out more than one word in five. Not that she needs to— when he gets like this, Taihaku cares more about airing his complaints than having them heard— but she still leans in, close enough one of her splayed knees brushes against his, and asks, “You don’t want to pick out the new servant?”

“What?” His hand lifts, burying itself in his hair rather than corners of his jaw. It’s not often she sees his eyes like this— unobstructed, no spray of fringe to hide the impatience in them. Or, sometimes, something she’s almost sure is fondness. “Of course I do. If I left it to Tenyou-sama, he’d pick someone like you.”

She blinks, filling his cup when he holds it out. “Ajin?”

His mouth curls around the cup’s edge. “Hopeless.”

*

Ichii joins them when the sakura first begins to bloom.

There’s petals tumbling in the air when Taihaku kneels at the bottom of the pavilion steps, leaning forward to lay prostrate at Tenyou-sama’s feet. They catch in his hair, dainty pink dotting inky black, like still water at twilight.

Standing at his shoulder, Rangetsu is glad for her mask— she cannot be sure what the third prince’s chief aide might do if he saw her smile, but it would almost certainly involve copying the worst poetry in the palace’s collection until her strokes were as fine as his. Or at least, until he got sick of disappointment.

His kowtow is serviceable, its execution technically perfect if lacking in abject devotion; the ideal model for the boy beside him, who hurries to make a more meaningful one.

Seated at the top of the steps, robed in pristine white and flanked by two ajin guards, Tenyou-sama is ethereal, more spirit than man and every inch an imperial prince. “This is the one you picked?”

“It is, Tenyou-sama.” Taihaku sits back on his heels, the veil of his fringe settling over his serious eyes. “Ichii recently passed the civil servant exam at its highest levels. Even amongst this year’s impressive showing of applications, he stood out in both the written and physical portions of the exam.”

Across Tenyou-sama’s elegant shoulders, Sogetsu meets her eyes, and even masked as he is, his amusement is plain. As is Tenyou-sama’s, his mouth unable to resist a wry tilt as he hums, “Did he?”

Taihaku’s brow furrows, frowning at their amusement. “Yes, Your Highness. I hope he meets your expectations.”

“If he was chosen by you, then I have every confidence he will.” He shifts, one hand curling under his chin as he adds, “It’s only….”

“Yes?” Taihaku prompts, impatience scraping the reverence off the edge of his voice.

“Well…” Tenyou-sama shifts, his own cheeks blooming with a dainty flush. “I would never have expected you to pick an ajin.”

*

“Don’t get any stupid ideas!” Taihaku glares over the rim of his sake cup, cheeks flushed with more than just alcohol now that both the boy and Tenyou-sama have been put to bed. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the two of you.”

Sogetsu’s lounge only makes the arch of his brow all the more insolent. “Is that so? Here I was, half convinced you might like us.”

“I meant what I said.” He glances between the two of them, shoulders hiked right up to his ears. “He’s the best of a bumper crop.”

Impressive, at his age. The boy is young— young enough for one dark ear to droop as she took him to his quarters, so tired he didn’t noticed until she clasped it between her two fingers and rubbed at the muscle beneath. Rangetsu had no memory of how her own ears came to stand so proudly— there was little occasion for tenderness in the crèche— but during her short-lived retirement, she saw one of the old farm wives doing the same to the litter of pups their best bitch had whelped, urging them to standing. It was supposed to be a kindness, but—

But Ichii had smacked her hand away, eyes wide all the way around, and told her, “That won’t be necessary.” His voice had cracked at the end, still high when he tersely bid her goodnight.

“And no one else would have taken him,” Sogetsu adds. It’s not a question.

“No.” Each syllable elbows its way out of his mouth, begrudging. Tenyou-sama may have made it possible for ajin males to serve as more than fodder on the battlefield, but few humans would hire an animal to balance the books. “They wouldn’t have.”

Her brother hums, taking another delicate sip from his own cup. “Their loss.”

“Yeah.” Taihaku shoves a hand through his hair, unveiled eyes meeting hers for a moment before skittering away. “You could say that.”

*

“Do you like your room?” Rangetsu had been breathless when she’d showed it to Ichii the night before— private quarters, with a washstand filled fresh each morning and night. It’s the sort of luxury children in the crèche would only whisper of behind their hands, the kind they would only see if they were taken as royal guards or managed to make a name for themselves among the other flowers in the red light district. “I could hardly sleep my first night here.”

There are few civil servants who could keep pace with two ajin guards— especially ones as tall as her and her brother— but the boy manages it with only the scantest scarcity of breath, his chin tilted up pridefully between his deadly bookends. “I have no complaints, Rangetsu-dono.”

She stares down at him. Only a single night here and already he sounds like Taihaku. “Really?”

His nose wrinkles above his already rumpled mouth. “Yes.”

“I slept on the floor.” Sogetsu leans down, hanging over the boy’s shoulder with a conspiratorial smirk. “The bed was too soft. Took me nearly a month to sleep there the whole night.”

Ichii’s mouth rounds. “R-really?”

Sogetsu nods, straightening into his usual saunter. “There’s no shame in struggle here— not like there is out there. If you have trouble adjusting, you need only speak up.”

“My room is just down the hall,” Rangetsu blurts out, eager to have Ichii turn to her with the same wide, reverent eyes he gives her brother. “And Sogetsu’s is down in the other direction! Taihaku, too, he’s right next to me, so if—”

“I will make sure not to disturb you.” It’s a solemn promise, one he makes with head bowed and shoulders square— and exactly what she didn’t want.

“No!” He startles as she slings around him, taking her next stretch of steps backward to make sure their eyes meet as she says, “Please, do! If there is anything, I am happy to help-- no matter how small!”

Ichii’s mouth falls slack around an, “Oh.”

“Don’t look at me,” Sogetsu drawls when the boy casts his curious eyes on him. “I expect you to keep your problems to daylight hours. And amusing, too, if you mean to drag me into them.”

“Taihaku will handle most of your academic education, but Sogetsu and I will be handling your martial training,” she adds, falling back into step beside him. “But if you’re struggling with anything, tell me right away! Taihaku is a great teacher, but if you need him to go slower, I can tell him to—”

Ichii’s mouth pulls thin, a narrow perforation in his unblemished face. “Thanks you, Rangetsu-dono,” he says, not sounding grateful in the least. “But I won’t need any help.”

“Oh my,” Sogetsu snorts, as the boy outpaces them, his small back disappearing around a corner. “For having pretended to be an adolescent boy so long, my dear, you certainly don’t know how to handle them.”

*

Ichii does, of course, need help. The civil service exam may have prepared him for a life of clerical work in honor of the emperor, but there are different expectations for a prince’s aide. A rounded reading list, for one, with a working grasp of both classic shi and the newer fu poetry— a subject that Taihaku bemoans her progress on even now— as well as exemplary skill in the use of the short sword.

Oddly enough, it’s the last that Ichii struggles with.

“He is physically gifted,” Sogetsu hums, squinting over the training yard. “Even though it’s clear he’s never touched a sword save to pass that exam.”

Tenyou-sama shifts on the bench, one arm lazily folded over the pavilion’s rail, watching Taihaku and Ichii trade blows below. Or rather, they would be, if Taihaku didn’t easily side step each of the boy’s swings, delivering a corrective tap to his side. “As all ajin are. I’m sure with a few more months of training, he’ll outstrip Taihaku with ease.”

“Me too.” Sogetsu tilts his head back, grin sharp as his knives. “Looks like it will be up to my dear sister to make sure our newest addition meets his potential.”

“He’s over-committing.” It’s obvious in the way his shoulder reaches with every swing, in how long it takes him to recover his footing with each dodged blow. “Relying too much on strength when he’s fast too. Much more than Taihaku, if only—”

“My my.” Sogestu arches one of his brows, letting it disappear beneath the pale fall of his hair. “Maybe you should be the one down there.”

It’s not an idle suggestion, not one made from innocence and sincerity— no, as much as Rangetsu may love her brother, as much as she would be willing to lay down her entire life to see him alive and safe, she also has learned: Sogetsu never speaks a single syllable without some scheme behind it.

One which is all too clear when Tenyou-sama turns on his bench, glowing in the heat of the sun, and inquires, so innocent, “Oh, yes! Why aren’t you down there, Rangetsu?”

Sogetsu has earned more than the second of scowl she spares him before she replies, “Taihaku said I’d be in the way.”

“Underfoot,” Sogetsu supplies, so helpful. “I believe that was the word he used, sister dear.”

*

Rangestu only means to pass by Tenyou-sama’s office. Really, she does— it’s the most direct path between her chambers and the training yard, and after the kerfuffle in the kitchens today, she’s already late to her standing spar with Sogetsu. She doesn’t even pause when she passes the open doors, skirting around the curtains billowing in the first summer winds, until—

Until Tenyou-sama’s soft words drift through them, inquiring, “How is Ichii progressing?”

It’s hardly any of her business— Ichii’s made it quite clear that she last on his list of aides to beg favors from. Sogetsu might tease, might say, you read a room as well as you read any of the classic poets, but even she knows that she can’t elbow her way into his good graces by will alone.

And yet, she presses herself to the wall, ears perked to hear Taihaku’s buoyant, “Very well, Your Highness.”

Rangetsu frowns. He’d never spoken so glowingly of her accomplishments, as if just the thought of them put a skip in his step. As if they were something to be proud of, rather than grudgingly won.

Even Tenyou-sama seems surprised. “I hadn’t thought you would take so well to being an instructor again. Not after…”

Her.

“Ichii takes to everything like a duck to water,” Taihaku boasts, for once eager to praise. “Poetry, economics, imperial history— his calligraphy is already good enough to use in official correspondence.”

Unlike hers, which was hardly fit for the scrap paper she scrawled it on. Tenyou-sama said she had an endearing hand— a compliment she had taken pride in until Taihaku scoffed, that’s the sort of thing parents tell their child.

“And his martial skills,” Tenyou-sama presses, strangely unsure. “I suppose it might be time to let Rangetsu teach him the better points of—”

“No need, Your Highness.” Taihaku— Taihaku— laughs, deep in his throat, like a pleased parent fondly chiding their favorite child. “I’m happy to handle his training too.”

“Really?” At least Tenyou-sama seems as left-footed as she does. “I would have thought you would be eager to get back to your regular work.”

“And give up my best student?” He snorts. “Not likely.”

*

There’s something wrong with her, she thinks.

She makes it to her spar with Sogetsu, but her hands shake when she picks up a spear, her rolling stomach making the ground beneath her pitch and yaw like a ship’s deck. It fades as she advances toward her brother, chasing his his tail around the yard as if they were children still— he never did quite learn to fight the way he should, more fox than wolf even with a weapon in hand— but a simple kick from him sends her skittering across the clay, painting a bright red streak down the back of her uniform.

Sogestu, for his part, only watches her get to her feet, but his eyes narrow when she puts her back to him, pleading fatigue.

They narrow even further at dinner— taken together, at his insistence— when she only picks at her plate, unable to summon up her usual enthusiasm for the whole grilled fish placed in front of her. By the time Tenyou-sama dismisses them that night, it’s a wonder she can see anything more than a sliver of silver-blue, lingering on her as she stays behind, a soft hand already reaching for hers.

But there is no relief to be found in Tenyou-sama’s touch. No, when he strokes a hand down the bared skin of her arm, the tension beneath it snaps instead of sparks. She’s used to a pleasant hum that follows in the wake of his hands, like the air before a lightning strike, but instead she feels like an erhu strung too tight, the only music he can draw from her sharp and discordant.

He’s disappointed when she begs off his attentions, but spares her a welcome smile when she slips from his arms— and a less helpful kiss, leaving her nerves jangling as she slinks off to her rooms, strangely dissatisfied.

There’s nothing that eases it; not the briskness of the air nor her steps-- not even the palms she rubs down her arms, trying to urge her skin smooth. Something in her is laying at odd angles, and no matter how she sways and jumps, it won’t lay flat, won’t let her go back to the easy routine she’s settled into.

At least it doesn’t until she catches the spill of golden light from beneath Taihaku’s door. He’s up, still, probably poring over reports Tenyou-sama has long set aside. That’s the thing about the fourth prince’s foremost aide: he’s never once learned how to relax—

“Hah!”

Rangetsu jumps, skirting around his door like a skittish cat at a puddle. That had sounded like— like Taihaku. But it’s impossible; he doesn’t laugh at anything save her. And it’s not like that, all bright and bubbly, amused rather than tired—

“Is that your argument?” His tongue keeps tripping, his normally perfect syllables crowded by the laugh he’s barely holding at bay, and it’s strange how her heart pounds with each skipped consonant or strangled vowel. It’s Taihaku, it is, but unfamiliar, and though she knows she must go, she cannot make herself do anything but lean against the wall, drinking it in.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he insists, more evenly now. “Unless you want to get laughed out of the room before you can make your case.”

Her blood runs cold at the soft voice that squeaks out, “Of course, shifu…”

*

It's just...odd, that's all. Taihaku had always chased her out of his quarters after hours, telling her that he wasn’t her teacher again until morning. Later, she'd learned she could simple bring a bottle and her problems to his door, or sometimes simply sweep in, trapping him in questions before he could think to turn her out, but still--

It’s been hours, and they’re still in there, laughing over— over things. Poetry, probably. Literature, even. All the things Rangetsu could never get the hang of, but Ichii takes to as easy as breathing.

Ichii. Just thinking the name sets a spike through her breast. My best student.

Rangetsu lowers her chin, letting it dig into the flesh of her arm. It's silly, worrying about this. It's been ages since Taihaku called himself her tutor-- I've washed my hands of you, he tells her each time she shows him her attempts at calligraphy, stick to waving around that pole of yours-- no longer just his student, but friends as well. Just because Ichii is good at...at everything doesn't mean he doesn't like her too. It's just--

Well, only one of them is in his room right now, aren't they?

“Oh, my my my.” Sogetsu slips onto the railing next to her, eyebrows already lost behind the sweep of his hair. “It’s hard, isn’t it?”

She frowns. “What is?”

“Why…” His teeth flash in the moonlight. “Not being the favorite anymore.”

[danzainosolitude]

Is there a gender for cis girls who want to be girls

[heartless-tate]

Just Friends? | Dark Azriel X Freader

Summary: You and Azriel are just friends. Who fuck. Or at least that’s how you see it. So what happens when you find out Azriel sees it completely different?. 🧁 | 2.6k words

A/N: I was feeling spicy today for some dark azzie boo bear. FYI, if you’d like this rewritten with a male reader, please ask!

WARNINGS: NSFW content, p in v?, oral F receiving, choking, murder(not reader), torture(not reader), shadow play, slight angst in beginning, fingering, slight degradation, slight manipulation, reader with she/her pronouns. with a pussy. THIS IS YANDERE CONTENT. ITS DARK AND POSSESSIVE.

The apartment is eerily silent. It’s dark, and shadows seem to liter every surface tonight. The stench of mold and something rotten doesn’t overwhelm your senses much anymore. Living here on this side of Velaris, you think you’re use to it. You didn’t bother turning the lights on. They always left a weird dim and yellow setting. The moonlight rays from the windows were enough light for now.

You stood in the cramped kitchen, in front of the oven. You stared at the cupcakes baking inside. Then at the clock; 3:04 am. You hadn’t been able to sleep and why not bake cupcakes? The inner circle would certainly enjoy them tomorrow. Not to mention it’d give you an excuse to question Rhysand of Azriel’s whereabouts. He always stops by your place at least once every three days. Or around that. It had been a week. You were lonely. And sexually frustrated. It was hard to get off without his long scarred fingers pressing into your skin, holding you close like he might lose you, and his cock pumping into you teasingly slow. Nothing compared to the feeling of it. Of him.

Going from fucking everyday, on almost any surface, to nothing within a week was driving you crazy. You needed it. You needed him. And not just sexually. But he couldn’t find that out. You wonder if you shouldn’t have had sex with him that night. Started whatever this mess was. Friends? Or what was it books called it?

Friends with benefits. You two spent the day time as friends, hanging out, talking, and at night you fucked like rabbits during the mating season. Or any time of the day really. You have had a crush on Azriel ever since you met him. How could you not? He was kind. Different. Quiet. And you both hit it off so easily when Rhysand introduced you to the inner circle. it seemed like he was always there. And if he wasn’t, his shadows were. Sure, you don’t have him as yours. But he was your friend. Your best friend. And that was enough. Or at least you tried to convince yourself that.

And so when he came back from a mission, sweaty and heated up from anger- you couldn’t help but relax and let him take control. You had had a stressful day too. Why not? Why not let your hot bestfriend fuck you senseless? That’s where the downfall was. You were just pity fuck or a way to blow off some steam for him. You see the way he’s always talking to Elain. You satisfied him for now. So you would happily reduce yourself to what felt like a sex toy, waiting for him in your shitty apartment in hopes maybe one day he would return your feelings. And more then ever you hated that you missed him, and not just the sex. You didn’t even have a clue to what day it was.

You approached the calendar on the wall and peered at it. He said he’d be back today. Or yesterday- since it’s 3:06 am now. He lied. Maybe he had found another woman. Jealousy swirled inside of you, ever growing like an invasive species. You slumped back down beside the oven. This was depressing. You felt like some lonely sad and depressed wife waiting for her husband to come home. Except he wasn’t your husband. And this wasn’t his home. And one day he’ll find another woman and you’ll be nothing but a faint memory in his mind.

A shadow scurried to you, dancing excitedly, others surrounded and curiously observed you. You watched as they scattered around your body as if searching for any harm. You paused- his shadows were back. Which meant he was back. And near. The shadow dancing in your face swirled and gently brushed against your cheek as if consoling you. As if it knew you were sad. You heard the door open to your apartment. You stood running to the living room watching as Azriel entered your apartment. He looked so out of place here. He slightly reeked of blood. As if he hadn’t washed it off yet and had just used magic to hide it for now. His hair was tussled and his eyes were oddly alert at this hour. He smirked at seeing you standing so excitedly. More shadows rushed to join the ones dancing around you, as if celebrating you.

You were so happy to see him again! But he was late. And probably was with another woman. You frowned and stepped back slightly.

“Where were you?”You questioned, crossing your arms. The shadows slowed to a lazy swirl. His wings tucked in slightly. He approached.

“Does it matter love? I’m here now.” He whispered cunningly, pulling you in by your hips. His fingers quickly moved underneath the baggy T-shirt of his you were wearing to grip at the flesh of your hips. He smiled at you broadly as if just noticing you were only wearing his shirt and panties. Your eyebrows furrowed. He could scent your arousal.

“I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.” You snuffed out. His wings tucked in further, his eyes flashing with darkness for a slight second.

“Do not question me.” He whispered softly. Azriel pulled you in closely nuzzling his cheek against your hair. He flinched when you jerked away angrily. He watched as you started back to the kitchen.

“Fine. It’s whatever. After all we’re just-“

“Don’t you fucking dare say friends, Y/n.” He snarled loudly. A sharp contrast from his before behavior. Before you could respond he was pulling you back, your back hitting his chest. It was like he snapped. His arms wrapped tightly around your center, holding you still as his wings surrounded you both.

“The only reason I’ve been putting up with your fucking friends with benefits bullshit is to give you time to adjust.” Azriel said, hands roaming. It became difficult to focus.

“What? What is that suppose to mean Azriel?”

His hand found it’s way to your clothed cunt, feeling the wet spot on your panties. He snickered. Of course you were turned on. His hard chest pressed into you and you could feel his erection firmly prodding against your back. The size difference between you two was almost unbelievable. You had been turned on since you got lost in thought of him earlier. Since that wet dream you had. You mewled softly as two tendrils of his shadows slither their way under your shirt and rub against your perked nipples. Azriel smirked and kissed your neck slowly. He moved your panties to the side and dipped his finger into your gushing cunt, enjoying the sounds it made. And the ones you made.

You couldn’t help the moans that escaped in response. It felt like you were on fire. Azriel was always capable of reducing you to a moaning incoherent mess within seconds. His long scarred fingers started pumping in and out of you, pressing into the one spot that made you cry out. His other hand grasped your throat and forced your head up to face him. His amber eyes were dark and piercing, a feral look on his face. It was terrifying, and yet you felt your body react differently then your mind did.

“What it means is, this pussy is fucking mine. This body. This mind. You’re fucking mine. You’ve been mine since the day we met. My beautiful foolish mate. I waited for the bond to snap for you, but it hasn’t yet. So when we started fucking, I assumed it would snap for you soon. And I could give you time to grow use to me, to having a lover and someone who cares for you. I know nobody has cared for you in a long while, sweet little thing. I knew you would need time to adjust. But it seems maybe you got the wrong idea. We’re not just friends. We’re mates. You belong to me. I belong to you. There will never be anyone else for us. Just me and you.. for eternity.” He whispered possessively in your ear. His feral smile only seemed to grow, making your own fear- but also pleasure grow? His thumb rubbed at your clit at a breathtaking speed, eyes sharp as they watched you squirm. He refused to let go of you though. Holding you close. You couldn’t process his words clearly. Everything felt too good. Too right. Like you belonged there- in his arms.

“W-wait az-“ you whimpered out trying to jerk your hips from the overwhelming heat building in your core. Azriel didn’t relent, shoving a third finger in you, dragging it slowly against your walls. He started pumping them in, every-time he hit the spot he knew that would make you dumb. The spot he knew would make you cock drunk when he angled his dick to press into it every-time he pumped into you. The shadows twirled and pinched at your nipples, creating a mix of pain and pleasure. They knew you enjoyed it. Azriel knew you did with the way your soaking cunt spasmed. You were close. He could see it in the way your body went limp against him. His hand grasped at your throat more aggressively- cutting off some of your air. His eyes were narrowed as he forced you to look at him. He knew you were close by the foggy and dumb look you gave him.

“Cum on my fingers princess. Make a mess.” Azriel purred sweetly, pressing his hard on into your back for some friction. He smirked knowingly when you cried out silently, hands clawing at his arm that was wrapped around neck. He felt the way your walls tightened, clenching around his fingers and he felt wetness leak around them. He released your throat, letting air back in. You gasped for air desperately. Your cunt was gushing around his fingers, a mixture of wetness and cum dripping drown his scarred hands. You clenched around nothing at the sight as he pulled them away.

“Atta girl. Look at you, making a mess of me hands. Clean it up hun.” He cooed, raising his fingers to your mouth. You obediently opened your mouth, allowing his fingers to be shoved into your mouth. You sucked them, tasting yourself. He groaned at the sight, pressing his erection against you again. Shadows suddenly swarmed around you both, and all of a sudden you were inside of Azriel’s house. Well- one of them. He had a penthouse, and a secluded cabin-house? It was deep in the forest and and secluded with the sense of a cabin but much more bigger and fancier. It had a modern look to it. He kept it secret, as it was a hide away for himself, but he always brought you to it.

He pushed you against his bed, mounting you like a feral animal. Both of your clothes disappeared- except for the shirt of his you had on. It stayed. His shadows swirled around you two. His erection prodded your ass.

Azriel seemed much more animalistic now, as he rutted his erection agaisnt you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he lifted you to him. He pulled you into a long, wet, and sloppy kiss. He nipped your lips until swollen and slightly bloody. And you returned it, happily, forgetting everything else. For now. He pulled away when you tapped his arm, needing air. He stared as you regained your breath.

“You wanna know where I was?” He asked, using his knee to knock your legs wider. His hand reached in between yours, feeling your wetness. He ears twitched at the sound of your soft gasp.

“Y-yes” You stuttered out, rutting into his hand.

“I was hunting down that pathetic excuse of your landlord. After you told me about how he threatened to touch you to make up for your lack of money and the missed payments, I went and found the fucker. I had to go on a mission Rhys sent me on, but I told him to count his days. When I got back, I found him and fucking destroyed that piece of shit.” Azriel growled proudly, taking in the scent of your fear and confusion. “He screamed like a little baby, louder then any other girl I’ve tortured before. I made it hurt. Nobody gets to fucking talk or touch my girl like that. Nobody.” He huffed out, chest puffed up with pride.

Azriel grunted when you shoved him away and scrambled to the headboard. His head titled with confusion. He scented your fear and his ears picked up the sound of your heart beat.

Azriel killed someone. You realized. He killed your landlord. It was hard to wrap your head around it. You knew he wasn’t innocent but the Azriel you knew was soft and kind. Not- not this. He killed someone. For you. Someone died. Because of you. Dread filled your bones. He crawled forward. Straddling your hips before you could move. His naked body in all it’s glory.

“Oh sweet thing, don’t be scared. I would never, ever, harm you. Don’t be afraid of me. I was just protecting you. And your landlord wasn’t just threatening you. He was doing it to other females. It’s okay, princess. He was just getting his deserved consequences. Can you imagine how many woman I could’ve possibly saved from his harm tonight? Don’t be scared of me. You’re safe.” Azriel purred out, wings flared. His cock rested on your stomach. You couldn’t help but relax as his scarred hands slowly spread your thighs. He’s right. Azriel’s always right. Someone could’ve been hurt if it wasn’t for him. He was doing you, and other women a favor. There was no reason you shouldn’t just relax and enjoy this. Him.

He smirked, hooking your legs upon his shoulder. Azriel, rubbed gentle circles in your thigh. He admired your pretty cunt. And then you. In his shirt. Smothered in his scent- inside and outside. In his bed. In his house. Where no one could disturb you. Pussy on display for him. And just him. He moved his hips down before nose diving into your pussy, scenting you. You smelled and tasted divine and your cute yelps and squirms of shock only spurred him on as he lapped at your gushing cunt for more. You tasted divine. Better then he could imagine. His hands held tight, nails leaving crescent moon shapes in the soft flesh of your thighs. Azriel couldn’t help but groan and whimper loudly at your taste. Tongue lapping and lapping like a starved man.

“Azzie!” You squeaked out, hands clutching at his hair, hips rutting into his face. His eyes were stuck on you, staring you down like a lion who had finally caught its favorite mouse. He groaned before pulling away, your wetness dripping down his face. He held eye contact as he licked around his mouth, enjoying your flavor. He grabbed the base of his cock and slapped it against your swollen clit, watching as you squirmed and yelped, sensitive. You were so adorable. His shadows slithered around your body before multiple restrained your limbs down. Leaving you helpless and vulnerable to him.

You relaxed. Azriel would never hurt you. He’s always been there for you. And this is what you wanted- him. And even better- he was your mate. Yours. And you were his. Who cares if he brutally killed your landlord? He was just doing his job as your mate. Protecting you. And plus, you have an excuse to move in with him. You had a feeling you wouldn’t be living this bed for a long, long, time. And as he slowly lined his fat cock with your soaking cunt, you couldn’t help but remember one thing. Your fucking cupcakes.

[anemonelovesfiction]

20~ Age Gap

So’lek x Fem! Human Reader

Warnings ⚠️: P! In V!, fingering, unprotected sex

Part two to this

Not proofread

MDNI 🔞

It’s the last day of Heatwave In Pandora and I’m saddened by this but also excited for having been a part of all of this with y’all. Thank you so much for those who participated and enjoyed my stories as well!

Word count: 2.2k

To say I was embarrassed about what happened during just before the comet’s raining across the sky was an understatement, I had been completely mortified of the situation, I’d basically masturbated in front of So’lek, and I think he did too? But the fact that I had been caught talking in my sleep- like I do most nights- had been too much for me to attempt to show my face around him again. I’d practically grown to avoiding him during any situation possible.

He’d attempted at steering my mind in the opposite direction that night by helping me draw giant penises on my coworkers masks, making sure each of them had a different kind of drawing on it. And the comets also helped for the time being, each of them pretty much being wished upon as they flew past us in a beautiful shimmer.

But another reason I had to learn to avoid So’lek was his age. He was in his forties and I was only twenty two, I was undeniably too young for him- and not even the same species. That was a considerable age gap and I’m sure the reason he doesn’t have a mate is because everyone in his clan had perished, but had any woman from his clan caught his eye, I’m sure he would have been mated with children by now and I’m certain he doesn’t even tolerate me to begin with- I’m human!

I’d been avoiding having to come into contact with him, strategically avoiding all of the areas he frequents, ensuring that I had something to do far from our base whenever they had their meetings -or went up or down on a different level when it was raining- and when all else failed and he was near I either ignored him or found a way to push someone else into his direction to hold a conversation with him. It was pretty easy considering Priya was a chatter box, she often went off on tangents, and did very well at allowing me the perfect amount of time to escape.

But today was a different day. Priya had gone on a patrol with Anqa while all of the Sarentu were busy doing some kind of training quest without So’lek, and here I was trying to look into a way I could quickly disappear while being in his sight, finding it futile to find a hiding spot and not being able to find a single one I give high hopes that Eywa is listening to my prayer that he wouldn’t need anything from me only to be proven wrong.

“You and I need to talk.” He stated as he stands directly in front of me, arms crossed and his hip tilted to the side, he looked so babygirl, but I couldn’t even think to laugh at a time like this. I could feel the adrenaline starting to course through my bloodstream and I felt jittery.

“In private.” He adds after having looked around before staring right at me. I could only gulp and nod at this moment wondering why the great mother would betray me at my most vulnerable moment, I can see So’lek turn around and motion with his head for me to follow him, and like a lost puppy with my head hung down in defeat, I do.

It hadn’t taken us long to reach the fourth floor which housed all of our rooms. I’d ended up spacing out long enough to pass him before looking up and realizing he was behind me, turning to face him and realizing I’d cornered myself between a wall and his body. Damnit.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He asks without beating around the bush and I start to think of a million excuses in my head, opening my mouth to spew whatever first bullshit lie could come out, closing it as he speaks again.

“Don’t lie to me.” He states as he crosses his arms waiting for my answer and I couldn’t help but chew on my bottom lip.

“I was embarrassed.” I admit and cross my own arms to try to shrink into the wall, my room was just around the corner and if I bolted I think I could make it, but I looked down instead.

“Why?” His voice is deep and holds me captive as I stand there looking like an idiot and shrug.

“If you have forgotten already I joined in too. You saw the evidence on the ground.” He speaks so steadily that I’m tempted to look up past my lashes but refrain from doing just that.

“Thats not it- well mostly- but not all of it.” I pull myself closer together and pray to Eywa that I could disappear at this moment to walk away from the conversation but feel his finger underneath my chin, lifting it up and forcing me to look into his eyes.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He asks once more and I couldn’t stop the shiver from running down my spine.

“I know you won’t reciprocate my feelings, I’m too young for you, and I’m not Na’Vi.” I stated honestly and want to look away but can’t find it in myself to do so, only for him to throw his head back with a chuckle, I could feel the embarrassment creep up on me once more and anger from him laughing at me.

“Whats so funny?” I asked with a huff, wanting to hit him on the arm for laughing at me.

“I do not care that you are tawtute nor your age. You are old enough to make decisions for yourself and you can choose if you want me or not, that is what matters to me.” He responds and seems genuine for his answer and it causes me to freeze.

“What are you saying?” I asked as the confusion was settling over my features, brows lifted and furrowed together, eyes searching his for clarification.

“Must I show you?” He asks simply and I’m still confused.

_________

He sits me onto my own bed as he kneel’s before me, being taller than me even if I’d been standing, he cranes his neck down and captured my mouth with his, his hands on my hips as he slowly shimmies my pants and underwear off in one go, tossing it off elsewhere without breaking the kiss. His hands returning toward my thighs as he squeezes them gently, his tongue inserted into my mouth as soon as I gasp, my own moan following after.

Our tongues don’t battle for dominance as I knew he’d win, his massaging mine as our lips toss and turn for him to do whatever he wanted to me, I didn’t even know how wet I’d gotten until he’d inserted a finger into my cunt and it slid right in. Another moan slipping through my lips as I lean my body back for him to get a better angle, finally breaking the kiss.

“So’lek~” I moaned right as he inserts a second finger easily, I’d thrown my head back at some point, lifting it back up to see him looking right at me with a smirk.

“Wipe that smirk off your- f-f-fuck,” I cuss as he moves his fingers swiftly in, caressing my sweet spot the entire time he’d gone in, my head lolling back and eyes closing as I attempt to focus on the pleasure.

“Lay back.” He instructs and I listen, laying my body back onto the bed while my legs dangled off the bed as did the bottom half of my ass, but I didn’t care at this point as the pleasure was too good.

“Lift your legs up and don’t let them touch the ground.” He stated again, I lifted my legs and settled the hells on the edge of the mattress, feeling his breath on my cunt and constricting myself around his fingers, a dark chuckle rasping through, driving me absolutely wild. His tongue takes a swipe up my cunt and I couldn’t help but gasp followed by a moan as he thrusts his fingers back in.

“Fuck, please go faster-“ I struggled to get out as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of me, kissing my sweet spot periodically and making me thrash my head around the bed, surely adding knots to my already messy hair.

“I want to make you cum.” He mutters before placing his lips around my clit and giving a harsh suck, my hips jumping up at the sudden contact, a wail escaping me as he continues suckling and fingering.

“So’lek, fuck!” I yell out as he runs a stripe along my clit, his rough tongue catching in it and rubbing against it deliciously I couldn’t help but buck my hips upward. A pleasing hum running through his body and from the depths of the obscene noises happening in this room, I could hear a gentle rumble, almost like a purr.

“I’m coming-“ I could feel my eyes crossing behind my eyelids and my vision turning white as I feel myself rhytmically grasping his fingers, his movements never ceasing as he continues to plow through my own orgasm and I could feel myself start to lose my own breath in the process.

“You taste delicious.” So’lek comments as his fingering comes to a standstill, I lift my head and open my eyes even when they felt too heavy to keep open and looked at him with a lopsided grin. He only stares right back at me, taking his fingers out of my cunt, and sensually licking the juices off them. I could only stare at him as my own grin fell, the heat returning to my core as I watched him and heard him continue to purr with approval, I lunged toward him and brought his face onto mine and kissed the ever living fuck out of him, breaking the kiss as I started breathing heavily to catch my breath and placed my hands on the fingers of his loincloth.

“You are eager.” He mutters.

I look up at him and see he’s smiling down at me, I blindly undo the knot keeping his loincloth on as I stare into his eyes as well, the look of surprise crossing his features as he looks down at himself to see his loincloth falling off. His cock coming up to slap him in the stomach.

“I’m efficient.” I corrected him and watch the amusement dance around his eyes.

“How’s about you take a turn on the bed while I play with you?” I ask with my hand on his chest running it down his abs sensually, looking back up at him through my lashes.

“You couldn’t handle me.” He threatens and I take that as a challenge.

“Oh yeah?” I asked with a brow lifted as if I was taking him up on his challenge.

_________

I bounced on his cock again as I could feel the fire in my belly growing larger, one of his hands had been settled on my hips, guiding me up and down his length, his purring had returned tenfold from the moment he’d slipped the tip in, and here I was taming him and taking his cock like I promised.

“How is it you can take so much of me in your tiny body?” He strains through his teeth as I continue bouncing off his cock not bothering to quiet down.

“P-pu-pure w-will,” I rasp out while continuing my task, leaning my body over to rest slightly as I move my hips up and down his giant cock, close to the edge already.

“So’lek, I’m- fuck- I can’t!” I wail as I feel my clit being brushed against his pelvis every time I slam myself down.

“Let go, I’m right there too-“ He squeezes my hips tight and I look up to him eith my own eyes struggling to stay open, his own eyes closed as he basks in the pleasure I’m providing him, deciding to fight to keep my eyes open to see his orgasm face when a sudden thought occurs to me.

“I w-wanna s-see you,” I rasp out desperately as I slow down in my pace but continue going rough. I feel his other hand carefully caress my cheek up toward his face, his eyes already opened and looking at mine, and with that I come, it took everything in me to not close my eyes but the euphoria I felt dancing around my body.

“Fuck!” He groans out loudly as his hands go straight to my hips, holding me down on his cock as I feel the tip of him kissing my cervix and explode all over my womb, spurt after spurt of come hitting my womb in a way that sent tingles through my toes.

“Holy shit-“ I mutter as I feel my body ramped up into yet another orgasm, feeling entirely spent as my body limply falls onto So’lek’s my breathing heavy as I attempt to catch my breath, the orgasm still coursing through me as my pussy contracts around him, his own purring dying down as his hips slowly push up against mine.

“No no no, wait-“ I begin before feeling his knot forming and pushing into my body, locking us into place for the time being, but I was too spent to fight it anymore.

“I’m sorry yawne, I didn’t plan for this to happen.“ So’lek begins apologizing but I shake my head as I struggle to lift myself for him to see me.

“It’s okay, we’ll just have to stay here for a bit.”

“You do not mind being tied to me?”

“Think of it as our version of Tsaheylu.”

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Raging Storm

Pairing: Dean Winchester x 18!Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: angst, being bullied, harsh insults, being called freak and worthless, someone wanting you to kill yourself, heartbreak

Request by anon: Hey can i request a one shot where the Winchester brothers and Castiel find out that before Michael and Lucifer go to hell they pregnant a woman that died giving birth to the reader (yn) that is the most powerful being in the existence and she is the first hybrid of all species, she is also the embodiment karma and the void, the princess of heaven and hell, the antichrist, Dean Winchester soulmate, the niece of angels and demons, descendant of the pagan gods and four horsemen of apocalypse, and more things and they need to find her because she is so powerful and she can destroy everything but in the end she is super innocent and shy girl???. with fluffy ending.

Summary: You've always been different than everyone else around you but you have no idea why. Things happen around you that you can't control or have no understanding of, but then Dean Winchester comes into your life promising to help make sense of it all.

Square Filled: window for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

This is the third week this month that the sky has been cloudy and gray. It’s fitting since it matches your mood. All you want to do is get through today and go home where you feel the safest. You hate it here. You’re about to graduate but it needs to come faster. You want to get out of this hellhole and away from these hellish people.

You look up and see your school in the distance with people shuffling into the building. God, I hate everyone here. You’re not even sure how it started but you walked into school one day and everyone hated you. The internet talks about bullying and how much it can ruin a person’s life, but you never knew it could get this bad.

You’re not sure why you’re getting bullied. Sure, you’re very timid and shy but you’re one of the nicest people there is. You’re sweet and friendly to everyone, but that doesn’t seem to matter to some people.

You keep your head down even when you get to school, ignoring the stares you get from some people. The first class of the day is science, which you love, but there are three people in that class that make those fifty minutes feel like hell. You take your seat in the very back by the windows when one of the most popular girls in school comes in. She is followed by her two friends who are basically puppies looking for attention.

“Look girls, the neighborhood freak is here.”

Your heart hurts at her words. You’ve always been bullied by her ever since you could remember. You two attended the same elementary school, the same middle school and junior high, and now the same high school. She’s been tormenting you ever since she knew she gained power by her words.

Maybe she senses you’re a bit different than everyone else. You certainly feel that way. Why do you feel different than everyone here? What makes you not the same as everyone else? That’s the reason why you get bullied because you don’t fit in. You don’t dress weird, have a pimply face, or are into weird things. Stacy took one look at you one day and decided you were going to be her target for as long as you let her be in power.

You haven’t found it in yourself to take that from her.

“What, have nothing to say?” she smirks and looks at her friends. “I hear her Daddy hits her while at home. Her whole family is a bunch of freaks.”

That’s not true. Your father loves you dearly. She’s just looking to stir up some drama, and the only way it’ll get worse is if you antagonize her.

“I heard takes poor defenseless animals and cuts them up,” one of Stacy’s friends says.

“You hear that, Freak? Better not get caught or else I might sic Darren and his friends on you. You wouldn’t want to end up like those animals, now would you?”

You put your head down and drown out her words with the beat of your own heart. The cloudy sky hasn’t gone away, in fact, it has gotten much darker since you’ve arrived at school. Stacy and her friends sit down next to you and gossip loud enough for you to hear every word they say.

Freak. Useless. Ugly. Burden. Waste of space. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. It got so much that you let your emotions get the better of you. Tears would stream down your face if you weren't in front of a bunch of people. Your heart jumps out of your chest just as all the windows in the classroom shatter around you, causing everyone to scream and back away from it. You stay seated, unsure if you did this or if something outside had caused this.

The storm clouds roll in quicker than anyone expects, and a light rain starts falling from the sky. Some of that rain comes inside but you barely feel the water on your skin. You look around at every person who seems scared of you. Maybe she’s right. Maybe you are a useless waste of space freak.

School is shut down for the day while authorities figure out what the hell happened. The rain comes down a tad harder than before but if you can get home, you can curl up in bed and pretend the world doesn’t exist.

As you’re walking, someone bumps hard enough into you that you almost go crashing to the ground.

“What did I tell you girls? She’s a super freak. Did you see what she did to those windows? How did you do that?” Stacy asks.

“Please, I just want to go home.”

“Are you a witch? A freak and a witch. God, why don’t you just go kill yourself? The world will be better off without you in it.”

“Please, just let me go home,” you beg.

“I like it when you beg,” she smirks. “Come on, bitch, beg to me like a dog.”

You’re not sure how this happened but you thought of her getting hit by lightning and then she suddenly was. She falls back in a fit of screams while everyone else but you jump out of the way to avoid getting hit. One of her friends ends up calling 911 but you’re already running away from the scene.

The rain pours down harder and lightning strikes near you to reflect how heartbroken you are. It seems like the weather follows exactly how you feel, and right now, you just want the world to swallow you whole. You don’t bother going home in fear you’ll hurt your parents. Instead, you run to the one place you feel safe outside of your own home.

“Alright, I have storms hitting New York and New Jersey, but I don’t think it’s what we’re looking for,” Sam says as he browses his laptop.

“I got a small tornado in Louisana.”

“Anything else?” Sam asks Cas.

“No.”

“Check this out,” Dean says before the group gives up hope. He turns the laptop so that the other two men can see the page he’s on. “There is a small town in Nebraska that is having rolling blackout storms like the city has never seen before, and the windows of the local high school had been shattered without anyone or anything touching it.”

“Do you think that’s her?” Sam asks.

“Gotta be. She’d be in high school by now.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

The trio gathers everything they can before setting out to Nebraska. They’ve been tracking you ever since you were born because you’re one of the most, if not the most, powerful beings in the universe. You’re the offspring of Lucifer AND Michael when they decided to both have sex with a human woman at the same time. They manipulated their power to create one big super sperm (as Dean likes to put it) in order to create you.

You’re the Princess of Heaven and Hell, the antichrist, and the embodiment of Karma and the Void. If Dean had to guess, you don’t know just how powerful you are, and you don’t. They have to find you before you do something bad like level an entire town because you got upset over something. Your mother died by giving birth to you and your fathers went to Hell after being imprisoned in the Cage yet again.

Your foster family took you in, adopted you, and loved you with everything they got. There’s a reason why you felt so different than everyone else. You’re not human. You’re not like anyone else. You just don’t know why because you were never told what you are or taught how to be what you are.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel try to traverse the storm when they get into town. It’s gotten a lot worse and has residents fleeing from the city to seek shelter elsewhere. No one knows where this storm came from but they are preparing for the worst. The heart of the storm is where you’re at and gets lighter the further out it goes.

They track you to an abandoned farm you often go to when you want to be alone. You found this place while taking a shortcut home and made it comfortable enough for you to spend hours there. Now, you can’t find a big of comfort anywhere here.

The trio gets out of Baby and sees you outside the barn huddled on the ground. The rain is coming down in buckets but that won’t stop the Winchesters and Castiel from talking to you.

“Maybe I should go. You know, angel to half-angel,” Castiel offers.

“No, let me,” Dean says before he can stop himself. “You two stay here.”

“What? Are you crazy?!” Sam gasps.

“Sammy, I got this.” He leaves their side and approaches you slowly and carefully. You look up and see the three strange men which causes you to scoot away from them in fear. “Y/N, you’re okay!”

“Go away! I don’t know you!”

Lightning strikes the ground where Dean is, and he jumps back before he is struck. Sam wants to join his brother’s side but he knows Dean can handle this one alone. Plus, he’ll jump in if it looks like Dean is in trouble.

“Y/N, my name is Dean Winchester. I want to explain what is happening to you.”

“I don’t even know who I am!” you sob. “Go away before I hurt you!” Dean walks closer to you but you feel a sense of warmth coming from him. You can feel that he is a safe person to talk to which is why you allow him to come closer to you. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I feel so lost. I don’t belong here. I don’t fit in!”

“Believe me, I get it. I understand how you feel.” He kneels next to you so you can see him without the rush of rain between you two. “I know what it’s like to feel alone in a room full of people. I didn't think I belonged for a long time. Sometimes, I still feel that way.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you.” You fall into Dean’s arms and just cry, and he smooths down your drenched hair as a means to comfort you. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

“All I want is to be normal. I didn’t ask to be this way.”

“I know. You’re not alone, Y/N. My brother and I can help you. Castiel over there can help you. We can help you control this.” You sob into his neck uncontrollably. “You’re going to be okay.”

For some reason, you believe him, and the storm calms down just a bit both in your head and outside.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[moodymisty]

So I actually have a 'Uriel Ventris has a kid' story written, If this goes well I'll post more.

---------------------------------------------------

Taking in the scene before him, there was only one thought in Roboute Guilliman's mind; This is all Belisarius Cawl's fault.

He was over 10 millennia old and he had seen some of the worst things the Galaxy had to offer, from competition from other species, betrayal by his own brothers, and the eldritch Tumors called Gods. He didn't believe that anything could surprise him anymore.

And yet, here he was sitting dumbstruck before a baseline woman, three of his sons, and a tiny human who seemed to be the only one enjoying all of this.

He cleared his throat, "So, ma'am, can you care to explain how you ended up having your charge?" He pointed at the little boy, only for said child to pipe up, "My name is Apollo!"

The woman's cheeks coloured despite her dark complexion, "I apologize on his behalf my lord, he does not know what he is saying." The boy was about to speak up, only for his mother to put her hand over his mouth, muffling his voice.

"Yes, now about young Apollo here." Guilliman continued, a part of him wanted to laugh at the small child's antics, but he had a job to do.

Isadore composed herself, she was in front of a primarch, she cannot disappoint him, especially for Apollo's sake.

"Lord Belisarius Cawl had recruited me to assist on a project, and as my family considered it a great honor, I went with him. I assumed that I would be a servant in his lab, cleaning up after his experiments. However, it seemed that he had a different idea in mind."

Her blush deepened, the implications making everyone uncomfortable.

Roboute wanted very badly to smack Cawl for tricking her in such a way. "I see, do you know who his father is?"

Isadore shifted in her seat, "I was not privy to much of the details of the experiment, but from what I could gather, his father was an astartes from the Ultramarines Chapter."

She really didn't know what else to say, before being fooled by Cawl, she was a rather simple seamstress from an Agriworld. She wasn't considered particularly beautiful either, with plain brown hair, eyes, and skin. A bit taller than average, which was her only stand out feature, but that was cancelled out by her rather ugly freckles marrying her face and body.

Never in her life did she think that she would have a child fathered by an Astartes, for one, she thought that it would be impossible for Space Marines to father children at all.

"I see," the primarch's eye seemed to develop a twitch, he didn't realise that when he gave Cawl the orders to research Primarch virility, he should've been more specific as to where to stop. "We will have the young lad her genetically tested to find his father, then we will regroup and decide how to move forward. Uriel, please escort our guest here to one of the serf quarters so that she may take some rest."

She watched as a tall marine with short, cropped, straight black hair with startling blue eyes nodded and motioned for her to follow him.

She bowed before the primarch and left the room, her child looking up at her curiously.

As they made their way down to the serf quarters, Uriel couldn't help but sneak glances at her, she was beautiful in a down to earth way. Gorgeous chocolate colored hair, clear skin, and deep brown eyes. Her height giving her a matronly aura and her full lips seemed soft.

He tried to push the thoughts away. Their father had recently revealed to them that he was going to give them a choice to have offspring to bolster the Imperium's numbers of neophytes.

He didn't know how to feel about that, but as part of this decision, marines were made to go through intense hypno brainwashing to return to them their more base urges.

Uriel hated how they made him feel like an out of control animal. He didn't like not having full control of his thoughts. Besides, the last thing the poor woman would want is to be harassed by astartes when she had already gone through so much.

He secretly admitted to himself that any astartes who fathered her child was a lucky man.

---------------------------------------------------

This is basically how the story would go, as Isadore and Uriel grow closer to each other and some shocking reveals as to whose soul Apollo has in him.

Also, yes, Uriel has a thing for Milfs. Isadore has low self esteem as she wasn't considered attractive in her culture, and Cawl only saw her as an acceptable carrier for astartes children.

So, yeah, tell me how you guys feel about this.

added your second post to this one so it's all together <3

the 'i don't know the father' mystery! it's a classic XD and poor guilliman having yet another weird thing to deal with on top of all the other weird things in 42m XD

[dragonridernoobie]

Hello! I don't know if you're still staring intensely at your inbox bored... but! I can give you something to do for a little while if you'd like . It's my first asking, so I'll try to be simple.

How about a one-shot of Ganondorf x reader, where they both used to know each other well romantically before ganondorf became the god of power. (When he was still the king of gerudo), the reader could've been a simple traveler who traveled through the desert (they could be injured due to battles against monsters on the way there) and found themselves in the gerudo town or something where they met him in the market in disguise cause he try sometime to find peace away from all the responsibilities once in a while and they bond over thing they both like.

Some time passes, and their feelings to each other grow more and more until the reader has to leave because of an emergency at their hometown (idk a family member is sick and they need special treatment that is very hard to get) so they leave while promising to ganondorf to come back once the situation is over. But they never do.

Heartbroken and angry ganondorf becomes the god of power, and after some times the reader goes back only to find out by the new ruler of gerudo that he became the man that brought hyrule to ruins.

Idk maybe something with a little bit of hope at the end? The reader could meet link and help him get to the palace. Like they see the man they fall in love with still inside the corrupted being in front of them. And tries to bring him back?

It's a long ask, and it's totally fine if you don't want to write it or have the time to do it (I know it's a lot energy to write) But if it gave you ideas for a new story or inspired you little than that's all that matter 😉. Anyways! Have a wonderful day or night.

A ask is never too long, I'm sorry if this took so long. I was trying to think of a way to make this a good way of writing it. Since I write in so many ways. So, I decided to make it seem like a story. I hope you like it or love it, I'm fine with either. Thank you for being Paitent!!!! (Also, i changed the story a bit since I've never seen or played BOTW2, and I rather not spoile it for my self.)

The story of the human and the Gerudo King

Long ago, when life was still new and people were still new to the land. Lived 6 different races that rule these lands.

The first hylians came to the land from the goddess Hylia. They created the Hylians as the first race of Hyrule.

And from that race, came all 5 other races.

Rito, hyilans who became one with the sky. Zoras, hyains who became one with the water. Gorons, hyians who became one with the ground. Gerudos, hyians who have split off and became one of their own.

They are a unique species since they only live in the desert. Where they first became is unknown hut they are known for being made of woman and woman only.

But every 100 years, a male is born from a Gerudo, and it becomes the new king of the Gerudo.

The six species are unknown. No one rarely sees them, no one knows about them, but we only know one thing.

They are wise. They have ways to cure the most evil sickness. They know how to survive in places that shouldn't be possible, and they are hard to kill.

Sadly, at one point in time, a king who was ruler of Hyrule found where these humans were and declared war on them. He slaughtered all of them. Their species were lost in time, and no one them about them.

And this is where our legend begins

Before calamity himself became, to be, there used to be a simple king of his lands of the Gerudo. His name was Ganondorf.

His people lived in the desert. They struggled but were happy. Ganondorf traded with people across the land. People always wanted to trade with the Gerudos.

So this is where ganondorf met his love.

He was on his way to a city when the bridge he rode on collapsed. He fell great distance and fell in the river below.

Ganondorf disappeared for weeks and his kingdom feared the worst. Intel Ganondorf arrived and even more unexpectedly that he had a few people with him.

Word spread around in the city that the king was alive and the city was happy.

The humans showed the Gerudos their ways, showed them how to get food in unique ways, showed them how to fight aginst sickness and even showed them how to plant foods in the desert.

While the humans showed them their ways, a human named (Y/N) and ganondorf grown feelings for each other. They were happy, and for years, the humans lived with the Gerudos. Even the human males.

Sadly, (Y/N) had to leave. They had to cross the land to reach another human settlement that are in need of help. They told ganondorf they will return and set corse.

Weeks past and ganondorf waited, and waited, and waited, he waited for days, weeks, and months. After so long, ganondorf became angry and hurt. Angry since (Y/N) has left and that the hyilans have caused trouble.

Hurt because he believes (Y/N) abandoned him. So he decided to declare war on the hyilans and kick out the humans.

This is where calamity came to be. When (Y/N) found out what has happened, they were stuck with grief and hurt.

When link awakened and they met (Y/N), they both agreed to defeat calamity. When link was able to defeat calamity (The first BOTW) (Y/N), talked to him before he was slayed by the light bow.

"I promise to keep fighting for you love. Please do the same...."

Once he was slayed, they fled away. Zelda and Link never saw them again. Though, they wernt gone forever. They where just praying and helping their remaining village survive.

Though (Y/N) hopes to have her love once more.

[parkkiablah]

odd request but could you do a zevlor x human reader (age gap? i think YES)

in which hes a little insecure about the reader not wanting to be seen with a tiefling/knowing his species is despised and being afraid you‘ll hate him after people start to treat you differently for your relationship to him

then maybe comforting him and assuring him he deserves all the love <333

Judgement (Zevlor x human reader)

(Thank you so much for your request! I hope you like it and enjoy reading 🧡)

When you woke up that morning you already felt something was missing before you even opened your eyes. The bed was unusually cold and there was no tail wrapped around your leg.

Opening your eyes and pushing your legs out of bed you got up, rubbing your hands over your face to get the tired feeling off of you. When you walked out of the bedroom you noticed him putting on his shoes, his bag with him he was obviously leaving to somewhere.

"Where are you going?", you asked. Your voice still tired from just waking up, your hair probably a mess and most of your clothes still gathering on the floor somewhere in your bedroom.

"I just wanted to buy something for breakfast, but the plan was to be back before you wake up.", he said smiling and walked over to you. His hand moved to rest on your waist, his lips finding yours.

"Let me join you, I'll just get dressed.", you said and quickly searched for your clothes.

He leaned against the door frame waiting for you until you were dressed, smile on his face while he watched you.

Once you were done you stood before him, taking his hand.

"Lets go."

Hand in hand you walked towards the stores, enjoying the feel of palms pressing against each other, both a smile on your face.

Thats until an old woman in front of you dropped her bag when she saw you two. Zevlor reached to pick it up instantly, offering help whenever he got the chance to, when she suddenly started screaming.

"Get your hands off my bag, devil!", she screamed. "And you better get your hand off of them too! You should be ashamed, obviously manipulating someone so much younger to be with you!"

She pulled on your arm, Zevlor's hand instantly fell from yours and you looked at him in shock. He was too stunned to even say something, to even move.

You freed your arm from her grip, moving closer to Zevlor again.

"He is no devil and I assure you he did not manipulate me. You should know better than to judge so easily.", you shouted angrily, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along.

He followed you but he seemed so deep in thought you weren't sure if he lost his mind on the way.

When you got back home and the door closed behind you was when he finally did speak up.

"We should end this.", he said, looking at the floor with no emotion showing on his face. His face was blank and you just wished to be able to look into his mind.

"What?"

You looked at him in disbelieve. Was he really considering ending your relationship just over some strange woman?

"She wasn't wrong. I am a tiefling, no human and I am much older than you are."

"I am aware, so why do you want to end this?", you asked him.

You knew who he was and that was exactly who you fell in love with.

"You should not be seen with someone like me."

"Oh, you mean someone caring and gorgeous and reliable and strong..-"

"No, I mean someone old and with horns, tail and claws. Someone who you will be judged for.", he said as he has turned his back to you.

"You know, you see the problem while I see the solution it offers as well. Tieflings live longer than humans do, so the problem you have with our age difference just solved itself.", you walked closer to him, your hand reaching for his shoulder, trying to offer some comfort to him.

"It doesn't change the judgement you will face because of me.", he turned just enough to look at you, his face showing how conflicted he felt. He wanted to be with you but he didn't want to bring you down. He didn't want people to look down at you for being with him.

"I don't care for people's judgement. I'd rather be by your side and get judged then be by anyone elses side."

"You don't know how it is to be constantly judged wherever you go and whatever you do."

"You are right, I don't know how it is. But I don't want you to face it alone anymore."

His eyes found yours, affection showing through and yet he was still hesitant.

"I know you always want the best for me, but I assure you that you are who I want to be with. You are the best for me and I would rather be judged for who I love, than act like I love someone else just to please other peoples views.", you told him. Your hand moved to the side of his face, gently caressing his cheek.

"You are choosing a life with people staring at you and whispering behind your back. They will treat you very differently just for your hand in mine. Is that really what you wish for?", he asked you, his face concerned.

"You are all I ever wished for and if being judged is the price for it, I will gladly pay it."

"Gods, you don't know what you are getting into.", he said, his hand resting above yours on his cheek.

"I don't need to know, all that matters is that we go through this together. You deserve to be loved and I don't mind our differences. Our hearts beat the same rhythm and thats all that I need."

Your hand rests on his chest and you stand on your tiptoes to push your lips onto his.

He instantly melts under your touch, lips softly pressing against yours, his hand moving around your waist to hold you close.

"Thank you.", he said once you broke the kiss.

"For what?", you asked. Both of your hands rested on his shoulders.

"For reassuring me."

"Nothing to thank me for. I will reassure you as many times as you need me to.", you said smiling. "And you know I can be very stubborn."

[luciftixs]

the yi sangela post

I’m having autistic zoomies right now

I want to talk about Yi Sang and Angela because I like them both A Lot and I just think it’s fun to do comparisons. My partner made this lovely checklist with a few similarities I jotted down in a notesapp on my phone before I passed out and I will be cooking a meal thats geared solely to me but ur welcome to try and eat it if u want

Let’s get into it. There is no structure here but maybe we will find it as we go along!

I wanna start w a disclaimer that this is FOR FUN its not actually that serious and ALSO its obviously not a 1-to-1 comparison because these two are also so starkly different in not only their circumstances but also their overall personality when it comes to having deal with said Issues. I feel like tumblr users are more chill these days but after some shit ive seen on projmoon twitter I am covering my bases this is just a Post by a Stranger Online LOL

Let’s take a look at our first point on this silly little chart. That point is:

Bird

Angela’s black dress heavily resembles the feathers of a bird; specifically that of a corvid like a raven or even crow.

Even her head librarian outfit has some bird motifs to it. I’m going to get into corvid symbolism in a second but first

Yi Sang also leans heavily into the bird motifs. His base EGO is named Crow’s Eye View after a poem by the RL Yi Sang, and the narrative draws some inspo from the short story The Wings by the same author.

Wings show up often in some of his EGOS and CGs

Now, it’s not simply generic birds either of them are inspired by; Angela’s black feathers, Yi Sang’s EGO title, they are specifically invoking corvids. Corvidae include many different species of birds, such as magpies and jays, but the most commonly thought of corvids would be the ones with black feathers; ravens and crows. Corvids are incredibly intelligent birds, and they are rich in symbolism and meaning.

Specifically, crows have a heavy association with death and the afterlife. Both Angela and Yi Sang are impacted by heavy losses; Angela is made from a woman who took her own life and is forced to oversee countless loops of people suffering and dying; Yi Sang witnessed his friends being driven apart in a violent manner. His two childhood friends die before him, he wishes he could kill himself and die, and is trapped in a purgatory state with his current coworkers where bloodshed is as common as breathing. Death has marked both of them.

But! That is not the only thing corvids symbolize! In more modern times the birds are said to also symbolize transformation. In a way, that ties into death, as what is death if not the final transformation in life? But neither of their final growths end in their deaths; rather, both learn to find a way to free themselves from the shackles of their past, and to push forward.

THEN WE HAVE

Book as weapon

This one is just silly.

*beats you to death with a book beats you to death with a book beats you to death with a book*

Next point

Narrative haunted by a female figure

This one is in that “not a one-to-one comparison” territory, but it’s still just fun to poke at imo. In Angela’s case, she can never truly escape Carmen’s influence over her. For Yi Sang, Dongbaek is a ghost from his past. Both these women are integral to the overall narrative at hand.

Not only do these women haunt the narrative, but they also mirror the person they haunt. Angela’s desire for life is so strong because, in the end, Carmen wished to live. Dongbaek admired Yi Sang and his dream of flying. She yearned to bloom in a way not dissimilar to a bird spreading it’s wings for the first time. Angela’s Lobcorp design invokes Carmen- her hair color is Carmen’s inverted. She wears the hair time Carmen wore. Dongbaek’s hair has become white from the trauma- the inverse of Yi Sang’s black hair. Yi Sang takes up a Dongbaek identity in a mirror world to further drive home the similarities. These women play a major role in the overall identity of these two characters.

And this is just my brain going “hehe neat” but Carmen’s whole like. Brain stem mimicking a tree and its roots. Dongbaek becoming flowers. Visually very similar vibes.

Onto the next point

Loomed over and controlled by a male figure

This one probably seems second most self explanatory. Ayin meet Gubo Gubo meet Ayin ect.

The deal is simple: you do what we want you to do, and we have employed dubious methods to ensure that you do what we want you to do! Both Ayin and Gubo are self serving when it comes to the end goals. The levels of agency at play here are different; Angela truly had no choice, but Yi Sang’s mental state is not Great and that is being capitalized on him to help perpetuate his isolation and dependency.

Another thing: Ayin and Gubo are just really fucking mean to Angela and Yi Sang. Ayin actively dehumanizes her and neglects her; Gubo verbally and mentally abuses Yi Sang. Fun stuff.

Now, the penultimate point:

Yearning for freedom

This naturally comes with the territory of being a bird. Angela longs to not be confined to a place (Lobcorp or the Library). She wants to experience the world and be free. Yi Sang is similar; that desire to spread his wings and fly. For both to accomplish this, they have a talk with the ‘self’. It’s only by confronting their pasts, and themselves, that they can finally get that push to live life on their own terms.

MY FINAL TALKING POINT

SEXY

Like wow hot a what? And yes I chose fourth match flame because it ties into the whole post like they’re sharing an EGO that’s basically having your hopes burnt to a cinder and also an intense longing for a better life whoa thats crazy

Concluding thoughts

I just like them both a lot. My little caged birds getting out of the cage and mending their broken wings in order to take flight. Very kino. I love them.

If u actually read this thanks ur pog

[roseaesynstylae]

Star Wars: Republic Commando: Triple Zero, Chapter 6

I had a nice vacation.

I visited family. I soaked up the sun. I created an AO3 account and have been collecting bookmarks and posting short fic, so when I feel confident enough to link it, there'll be something substantial. I began reading my way through the High Republic. I started refining OCs that I might post fic about in a year.

And now I'm coming back to this.

(Hand to God, instant burst of rage when I opened the book.)

"In five millennia, the Mandalorians fought with and against a thousand armies on a thousand worlds. They learned to speak as many languages and absorbed weapons technology and tactics from every war. And yet, despite the overwhelming influence of alien cultures, and the absence of a true homeworld and even species, their own language not only survived but changed little, their way of life and their philosophy remained untouched, and their ideals and sense of family, of identity, of nation, were only strengthened. Armor does not make a Mandalorian. The armor is merely a manifestation of an impenetrable, unassailable heart.

-- Mandalorians: Identity and Language, published by the Galactic Institute of Anthropology"

That right there is complete bullshit.

No culture exists that long and interacts with others without being influenced in some way. Whether intentionally or unintentionally, they would pick up something. I know Star Wars doesn't necessarily involve itself with the nitty-gritty of worldbuilding, but...

Part of this feels like I'm overreacting to something small, but over the course of my vacation, I have lost what little willingness I had to be nice to Karen Traviss, her Mando Sues, and all the bullshit in this series. I'm sorry, but I'm going to be a bitch going forward.

Anyway.

There's something about this excerpt that really makes me feel like it's lording its (unrealistic and impossible) linguistic "purity" over everyone else. This is a case of "If this were a different author/book/series, I wouldn't be bothered."

Mando-Shilling: 2

I haven't even gotten to the actual content of the chapter yet and I'm metaphorically throttling this book. This is a bad sign.

"'General,' he said. He paused to nod formally at Etain, which -- given Skirata's general contempt for anyone not in armor -- seemed quite an encouraging start, Fi decided."

We are not pleased.

"'In here, ma'am.' He could make ma'am sound like girl somehow; he could do the same with General. But as a Jedi she had no right to feel affronted by the lack of deference. She realized that she simply wished he would like her. 'Just a little chat and you can find General Jusik and catch up on events.'

Yes, Skirata gave the orders."

Okay!

This isn't lack of deference; this is just being an asshole.

Oh, he can make ma'am sound like girl? Well, I can make Kal Skirata sound like eat shit and die.

"'In urban operations, a woman is always useful, Jedi or not. Another aid to invisibility -- old di'kute like me and females like you.'"

I hate you so fucking much.

It's a Man's World: 2

Like I said above, I have lost all patience for this series' bullshit. I'm going to go look at some pro-Jedi/Bad Batch content (my version of touching grass) and possibly assemble romantic prompts.

My last comment on this chapter?

Jedi-Bashing: 9

Mando-Shilling: 2

It's a Man's World: 2

Shut the Fuck Up, Kal: 1

Deltas, Move Out: 4

Mird, My Beloved: 3

Is This The Bad Batch?: 2

Main Post

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi! Hope you're well! Sorry if you've already done this request, but have you done a plant pollen lust story with Marilyn x student reader yet? Where they breathe in some kind of aphrodisiac pollen that makes them lose control and give into each other? I was thinking maybe they've had feelings for each other for awhile but haven't succumbed to it yet and this is when they do. Just wanting some mommy!dom Marilyn with an experienced reader so Marilyn can be rough with her. Maybe Marilyn uses a strap on or is intersex? Whichever you're more comfortable writing! Thanks!

Yesss!!! Here it is!!!! Finally I made Marilyn intersex, just to be "realistic", I mean, who has a strap-on in a classroom? I hope you don't mind and that you like it!!! Sorry about the delay, and the language mistakes!!! :)))))

Lust is in the air

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill x Fem, Student! Reader

Warnings: Smut, intersex Marilyn (She has a dick), kinks, lust pollen, dom! Marilyn, sub! Reader, strong language…

Word count: 4,883

Summary: You were in the conservatory as always, but that night things were going to turn weird, but funny…

N/A: Requests are open!!! Sorry about the delays, I’m working hard on your requests. I love you all!!!

“Let's see, (Y/N), do you think you're ready for an express questions round?” Marilyn, your teacher said. You nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, test me,” you said, shaking your fists, very sure of yourself.

It was a night like any other. There was nothing weird. You never got along with botany, you always had to memorize over and over again all those plants names, something that was quite complicated for you.

Fortunately a few months ago your bitter and unpleasant teacher was replaced by Marilyn Thornhill.

She was different, kind, funny, and very, very beautiful. With her you began to like the plants you hated before. But memory was still not your best skill. You would need some kind of reinforcement or a mentoring, great idea.

You didn't mean to fool yourself. That strange redhead normi attracted you, not just because of her sweet and innocent appearance, but also because of her kind and gentle way of being. Wanting to know her answer, you asked her for help with her assignment. She accepted gratefully. It seemed that her normie status didn't make her to get many friends in Nevermore.

Little by little, nocturnal visits to the conservatory became usual. Marilyn and you talked about plants, but also about other topics that had nothing to do with them. You'd be blind if you didn't notice the tension that slowly built up. Your feelings were focused solely on her and Marilyn didn't seem displeased by your presence, quite the opposite. For you there was always a smile, a caress, a gesture or a word of affection.

You could feel desire and love engulfing you, but, of course, you didn’t do anything about it. You, because you thought that a woman older than you, and who was also your teacher, couldn’t have a real interest in you. She would surely find unlikely that a young girl, a Nevermore student, would take an interest in her, beyond her lessons on plants.

It was a dead end, a closed circuit of especially strange comments and silent looks that never amounted to anything more than that, looks, words, caresses. Never a kiss, a hint, any hint of what your true feelings were. It was a daily fight to see who would give up first. You were proud, and you were still afraid of not being reciprocated. She was innocent, surely she wouldn't take your hints the way they truly were.

“Let's see…” Marilyn said, amused while she looked at the plants that were around her. “Okay, (Y/N), tell me what these two beauties have in common,” she said, pointing to two small plants.

“Hmm,” you muttered. You were sure you had read about it, that Marilyn had explained it to you, probably that very night. “I know it,” you said satisfied, smiling. “Both are invasive species, imported from Australian traders in the early 19th century.”

Marilyn smirked and nodded.

“That's right, very good, (Y/N). Maybe that one was too easy. Let's see… What about this one? Could you tell me what its main characteristic is?” She asked after, moving around the conservatory to make her little "exam" more difficult for you.

“Yes, it's self defense. If an animal gets too close, it emits a substance that causes drowsiness. It can even affect humans,” you answered, happy to remember. Your memory improved every night you spent with her, or so you thought. It was surely a trap of your subconscious to please the redhead, or to try to impress her.

“Extraordinary…” Marilyn sighed, with a smile. “I see you have paid attention to today's class. Let's see… something more difficult. (Y/N), how many hours of sun does this beauty need to maintain all its properties?”

You laughed, you also knew the answer.

“It's a trick question,” you said satisfied, with a certain petulant tone. “The nightshade doesn’t need sun, it would die if you expose it to sunlight.

“Very good, (Y/N), I see that you have really studied today…” Marilyn said, giving up. “Good job, I think you'll have no problem passing next week's exam.”

“Great,” you said, making a victory gesture.

“You've made a lot of progress, (Y/N),” Marilyn said, returning to her desk. “I think that’s enough for today.”

You agreed, because the worst moment of the night had arrived, the moment of farewell. You thought about protesting or sighing pityingly, but you'd be being too obvious. You had to be smarter, buy more time with her.

You searched with your eyes for something that caught your attention and her infinite wisdom could explain to you. To one side of the table, there was a display case with a plant that you did not remember having ever seen. It was a deep green colored plant, and for some strange reason, you felt drawn to it.

“Marilyn,” you said, not taking your eyes off the plant. She looked at you and nodded for you to continue, with her usual kind smile, the one that made you melt. “What kind of plant is that?” You asked, pointing to the small display case.

“Oh, well, it's a very rare species,” she answered, looking at the plant. “It's a variant of a carnivorous plant,” she said, smiling. You knew that she loved to talk about plants, to tell you everything she knew about them. It was a cunning plan, (Y/N).

You nodded curiously, moving closer to the plant and taking a closer look at it.

“I wouldn't do that, (Y/N)…” Marilyn said, with raised eyebrows and an amused tone.

“Why?”

“You see... This little one is something... Special. I suppose you remember that I told you about the sexual deception that some of these plants perpetrate.”

“Oh yes, I remember,” you said amused. That class would never be forgotten. Marilyn shook her head, laughing softly.

“I wonder why the students always remember those things…”she sighed  with an amused but intriguing look. You blushed but laughed too, shrugging.

“It’s because you explain it very well…” You whispered, perhaps going a little beyond your subtle comments. She laughed again, crossing her arms and closing her eyes.

“Of course, I'm sure that's what it's about,” she said, clearly with irony. “Look, (Y/N), it may seem like a small and harmless plant, but nothing like that. When it flowers, it produces a very intense pollen that it carries through the air. This pollen has nothing to do with what you may have known. It's about… well, a superior imitation of sex pheromones.”

“Oh…” You said, nodding. You didn't expect that kind of conversation. A thousand points for you, (Y/N).

“The difference between it and its colleagues is that this pollen doesn’t only affect bees or small animals. It is capable of altering the behavior of large animals, including people,” she continued explaining, perhaps a little nervous. You naturally wanted to know more.

“To alter behavior? How?” You asked curiously, moving away a bit from that display case.

She didn't seem to know how to answer, she stopped to think of a correct way to explain it to you.

“Well... If a person inhales the pollen from this plant, let's say that they become... Affectionate...” She said, lowering her head and looking away. You were convinced that it was a simple euphemism.

“Affectionate? Do you mean wanting to…? Well, wanting to do that?” You asked, feigning innocence. She glanced at you briefly and nodded. Her cheeks were starting to turn red.

“Indeed, (Y/N), it's what I want to say,” she said with a small voice. Soon her expression changed as she looked at that display case. “I shouldn't tell you this but… They say that once there was a scientists convention to analyze these types of plants, in case it was possible to use them for some kind of medicinal purpose… Oh, my God, I really shouldn't tell you this.”

You smiled, knowing it wasn't hard to push her to finally speak. She had said so many times that you shouldn't know something that it almost seemed like a joke already.

“Come on, Marilyn, tell me about it, please. I won't tell anyone, I promise,” you said, putting on the face of a good girl.

“Okay, (Y/N)…” She finally sighed. You smirked and looked at her expectantly. “Well, it is said that one of the scientists was not careful, and the whole room was filled with pollen and… Well… I’m sure you can imagine what happened next…”

“Oh, a scientific orgy,” you said cheekily, without paying any attention to your words. She looked at you surprised by your answer.

“(Y/N)…” She said with a warning tone. “But yeah, that's basically what they say that happened. Now I suppose you understand why it's in a display case,” she told you, pretending that you hadn't said what you had said.

“We don't want orgies,” you said amused, earning you a soft tap on the shoulder from her. Marilyn shook her head, feigning anger at those words, but she soon burst out laughing, just the same way you did.

“No, we don't want it,” she replied, trying to stop laughing. Soon her laughter subsided and a moment of silence took over the place. Marilyn's expression relaxed and she looked into your eyes. You did the same and for once, she showed signs of weakness, of wanting to tell you something. “(Y/N), I…”

What she was about to say was interrupted by howls coming from outside the building. Marilyn shook her head, looking at you like she was apologizing, and headed for the door.

“But what's going on?” She asked, leaning out the door.

You looked at the conservatory ceiling. The moon was only a day away from being full. Your fellow werewolves would go crazy when that happened.

“Oh, oh... The wolves haven't gone to their cages...” You said with concern. Marilyn went to close the door, but it was too late. A bunch of wacky, furry students, burst howling into the conservatory, jumping off tables and stirring up everything in their path.

“Hi, (Y/N)!” One of your classmates turned to you. You recognized that deranged look. The poor thing was out of control.

“Hey, Marcus, why don't you guys go to make a fuss somewhere else? I'm trying to learn something,” you said to your friend, who was panting with his tongue outside his mouth.

Marilyn was in a more comical situation, chasing the rest of the pack, who were running and jumping, hanging from the trees as if they were ape-men instead of werewolves.

“Get out of here!” She yelled, grabbing some vases that were about to fall to the floor. “Get out, get out!”

“Come on, man, take your little wolves to another place…” You said to your friend. His eyes bulged almost out of their sockets, but he was one of your best friends, and in that state, he still had some consciousness.

“Come on, guys, let's go to the woods to hunt squirrels, Auuuuu!” He howled, leaving the conservatory, followed noisily by the rest of his friends, who howled desperately.

Marilyn closed the door as the last werewolf emerged, and leaned against it, sighing in relief.

“I'm never going to get used to this…” She murmured. You moved closer, trying not to laugh too much, and put a hand on her shoulder.

“It was probably our fault. The light will have caught their attention. “You said, looking around you at the mess they had left behind. “Oh…”

“Oh, damn it…” The redhead said, putting a hand to her forehead. “(Y/N), I wouldn't want to abuse your trust but… If you could…”

“Yes, Yes of course. I'll help you put all of this in order,” you said immediately, blinking with an angelic look.

“You're such a good girl…” Marilyn whispered, briefly caressing your cheek.

You started to put the fallen chairs in place and suddenly you noticed something strange in your body. It was November, it was freezing outside, but somehow you were starting to sweat. You passed a hand across your forehead to confirm it.

You felt as if your clothes were in your way, you even got dizzy. You leaned against a table before being overwhelmed by that strange sensation, and made a disturbing discovery.

“Eh… Marilyn…” You said trembling, pointing to the floor, where the display case containing that strange plant lay, broken into a thousand pieces. The redhead looked at the same spot and her eyes widened in horror.

“Oh my God…” She sighed, moving closer to the plant. “Oh my gosh this is so bad...”

“The orgy plant,” you whispered, fanning yourself with your hand.

“(Y/N), don’t, don't move… Stay where you are…” Marilyn said, who seemed to be experiencing the same thing as you, an unbearable heat.

“I'm hot…” You said, after which you frowned. You didn't plan to say that.

“I know, I'm hot too, I mean… It’s hot here…” The redhead said, without taking her eyes off you.

“I, I feel weird…” You said, sighing in a strangely suggestive way.

“Don't worry, it's because of the plant…” Marilyn gasped, turning around to look at herself. “Just, just relax and enjoy, I mean, take a slow breath and…”

“I'm on a cloud, Marilyn, a sexual cloud…” You said, now smiling, noticing familiar tingles all over your body.

“You have to relax… I… I…” She said, turning her back on you.

Suddenly an almost unbearable desire took over your body. It was a feeling similar to when you drank too much. You felt uninhibited. You felt invincible, capable of saying everything that was on your mind, of doing everything that was on your mind. You moved from that table and approached the redhead, who seemed to be breathing heavily, as if she was fighting with the same feeling as you.

“Hurry up, (Y/N), we have to cover the plant with a damp cloth so that the effects don't... Be worse...”

As in one of your fantasies, you ran your finger down her back, enjoying seeing her tremble when you did.

“Marilyn… I want you,” you said, totally oblivious to the circumstances that such a phrase could entail.

Now she turned. She was sweating, she was looking at you with her mouth open. She didn't seem uncomfortable, but quite the opposite. Beneath her typical blue jumpsuit, you could sense that her desire was also growing, literally.

“Fuck, (Y/N), don't do this to me…” She sighed, when you stood inches from her face and your hands roamed her body, panting at the same rate.

“Do you want me, Marilyn?” You asked with a smile. At first she looked at you scared, but her eyes began to reflect your desires and her gaze became serious. Marilyn nodded slowly, running her hands around your waist.

“Yes, (Y/N), I want you… I think about you every night…”She whispered in your ear, biting the lobe of your ear.

Deep down you knew that everything that was happening was because of that plant, but a confession like that couldn't be just due to the pollen. You moaned heartbreakingly when you heard those words, ones you didn't think you'd ever hear.

“That makes me really…” You said hissing, getting rid of your Nevermore jacket. The heat had already been unbearable.

“This is all because of the pollen…” she said, coming back a bit to reality. “We have, we have to fight against its effects before we do something crazy.”

You were already too poisoned. You thought about nothing else than having her inside you. Between moans you couldn't suppress, you caressed the remarkable bulge that had formed between her legs. She moaned when she felt your hand in that private part. Her forehead was sweaty, and her hands roamed your back, your butt.

“I like to do crazy things… I'm crazy about you, Marilyn, and I want to make love to you, now,” you said in her ear, while you unbuttoned her jumpsuit.

She moaned, while she shook her head.

“No, (Y/N), it's, it's wrong…” She said, fooling herself. “Damn... It's so wrong...”

“Just let it go, Miss Thornhill. You're so hard... I think I would die if I don't have you inside of me...” You moaned, continuing to caress her. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I think, I think me too…” She whispered, pulling you, pressing her body against yours. “ Is that what you want, (Y/N)? Do you want mommy to fuck you until you faint?”

Her voice turned grim, dark and lustful.

She knew everything about plants. Surely her reaction capacity was faster than yours, breathing slow and moving away from the broken display case. But something told you that she simply gave up, she was carried away by that unbearable desire that the pollen caused. Perhaps your theories in which she had feelings for you were right, supported by the intriguing and erotic confession she made to you minutes before.

“Yes, mommy, fuck me...” You responded angrily, with hungry desire, while you tore off your shirt. “Touch me, caress me...”

She nodded with a sinister smile on her face, before leaning in and finally, kissing you.

Gasps and moans echoed off the conservatory glass walls. They were animal kisses, wild kisses. Your bodies brushed against each other, sending pleasant stimuli to all the corners of your body. Your neck was assaulted by her teeth and the last buttons of her blue jumpsuit, by your hands.

“You're beautiful, (Y/N), your body is delicious…” The redhead whispered, grabbing your nipple between her teeth, making you moan with pleasure. “Are you going to be a good girl for mommy?”

“Yes, I'll be whatever you want, Marilyn…” You sighed, noticing how your center began to demand some attention.

“Poor silly girl... So desperate for mommy...” She hissed, amused. A slap hit your butt under your skirt and that made you bite your lip. “Take off your panties, (Y/N), do it.”

You obeyed, looking at her with desire. You left your skirt on, just as she hinted at you with her hands.

“Mommy… I need you…” You said with a desperate face, unable to avoid caressing yourself. It was as if the sensations you would normally feel when touching yourself had been multiplied. You moaned as you looked at the redhead, obsessed with what you were doing.

“You know how to touch yourself... You're a smart girl...” She said with a childish voice. Right after, she grabbed you around your waist, turning you around abruptly, putting your belly against her desk and lifting your skirt.

“Mommy…” You moaned, letting yourself to be touched anywhere she wanted. Her hands went to your breasts, while her hips rubbed against your bare bottom. You could feel her cock through her clothes, you could feel it rubbing against your center. You moaned as if you were going to die, wishing that she would finally fill you up and fuck you mercilessly.

“So wet for me…” The redhead whispered, leaning over you as she stroked your slippery folds up and down. Your legs trembled at the contact, you thought you were going to explode.

Her fingers entered you without asking, without any kind of warning. That made you want to bite into something so you could silence your cries of pleasure. She was not affectionate, nor tender. She was rude, commanding. That dark side that that sweet and innocent woman had could make you end up in that state without needing that pollen. It was erotic, tremendously sexual. You had never been dominated in this way, but you found that you could not do it otherwise.

“Mommy, mommy... Yes, please, yes...” You moaned, receiving another slap on your butt and an evil laugh from the redhead.

“Silence, bitch, mommy is working…” She told you, holding your hair tightly. “Enjoy whatever you want, but don't cum, (Y/N)…”

You opened your eyes. That request was impossible for you at that moment, you were already very close.

“But mommy, I can't help it, you do it so well to me…” You gasped, noticing how her fingers increased her speed. Marilyn stopped, pulling your skirt down to get rid of what was left of your clothes, and your shame.

“Good girls wait for mommy to give them permission…” Marilyn told you, caressing your buttocks with her free hand. “First you have to make mommy happy... Tell me, (Y/N), have you ever do this?” She asked, making you turn around, taking his fingers out of your desperate humidity, which pressed its walls so that her fingers didn’t abandon you.

You closed your eyes, feeling almost pained by this sudden lack of pleasure, and nodded.

“Yes…” You confessed. She smiled, lowering her jumpsuit to her ankles, releasing her throbbing cock and aiming it at your entrance.

“Fine, I guess I don't have to treat you like an innocent girl then …”

You admired her length and licked your lips. None of the boys you know had anything to do with it. You wanted it, you wanted to see your body adjusting to it, stretching for it.

Your conscience was clouded by lust. The pollen was really dangerous, but it was nothing else than an enhancer of everything you felt, everything you wanted. To think that she wasn't the one with you at that moment disgusted you.

“Be a good girl and stay still…” She said, while she ran the tip through your folds. “Oh fuck, you're so willing, so wet…” She whispered, clearly struggling not to enter you so soon.

You moaned at her touch, looking into her eyes just as she did.

“I'm not going to ask your permission, (Y / N), I'm going to make you mine, my love… Mommy will give you what you want and you're going to take it like the good girl you pretend to be…” She said, leaning into your ear.

You nodded, moving your hips to feel the tip of her cock right on your clit, making you shiver at the sensation.

With a sudden thrust, she entered you moaning with a strangled sigh.

“Oh, damn... It feels so good... You squeeze me so much, it’s so tight...” The redhead said, introducing herself completely.

You moaned for that feeling you craved. Your body moved, adapting to the intruder as best it could. She had been quick, she had been ruthless, that was what she was looking for, what she wanted, and deep down, what you wanted.

“Mommy... It's big...” You moaned, hissing at the little pain you felt, a pain that was even pleasant.

“Oh… your little pussy can't take mommy? Is mommy hurting you? Poor girl...” She said with a childish voice, while she moved little by little, slowly, but with intensity, stretching your walls in an overwhelming and gratifying way.

“It's so hard…” you sighed, pleased to see how your body played with her, embracing her cock lovingly but firmly. She smiled and caressed your cheek, before moving faster and faster.

“Yeah… You take it so well, you're perfect…” The redhead panted, moving her hips, giving little slaps to your thighs. “My good girl... Mommy's good girl...”

“Keep going, don't stop…” You said, stammering. Your body moved from front to back. Marilyn was holding you to move just as she wanted. It wasn't delicate, it wasn't the loving sex you used to imagine, but it was what your body needed at that moment.

“Oh, but what are those ways of talking to me, honey? Haven't you learned anything?” She said to you, giving you a smack on the cheek. “Talk to me properly or I won't continue fucking you, is that what you want? What mommy doesn't fill you up?”

You shook your head, horrified by that idea. Your moans were intense, as was her thrust. Her cock slid easily through your body, rubbing against the most pleasurable places inside you.

“No, please, mommy, don't stop… I want, I want you to fill me up, I want to be full of you, keep fucking me…. Please mommy, don't stop,” you said in a pathetic, desperate and humiliating way. She chuckled, grabbing your ankles and lifting them into the air, moving her hips gracefully, almost as if she was playing with you.

“That's the way I like it…” She said, placing your legs over her shoulders and increasing the pace even more.

The redhead's moans were so sexual that they added another point of pleasure to the way she fucked you. They were high-pitched gasps, exhausted, hungry, but with a soft layer of sweetness, something of the kind, innocent, caring side of her. And you couldn't take it anymore. All your muscles fought not to contract, not to feel those familiar cramps in your center. You were so close to heaven that you thought you could touch the clouds.

“Please, mommy...I'm close...” You said, being pushed with even more force. Marilyn looked at you as her eyes focused on the way her body moved inside yours. Her smile turned sarcastic, ironic.

“Is that all you can take? No, honey, you're not going to cum yet. Have you forgotten who's in control here?”

“You,” you moaned.

“Exactly, (Y/N), and like the good girl you are, you're going to be nice, and wait for mommy to cum first, will you?” She said, slowing down, moving inside of you softly.

“Yes…I will,” you sighed. You didn't see any other possible options. You had to obey, and besides, just thinking about her cum inside your body made you go even crazier.

“Be patient, my love... Mommy isn't far from filling you up...” Marilyn said, moving quickly again, with a little more hunger in her onslaught. “Oh baby, I want to… Make you mine…”

“And I want it too, mommy, I want to be filled with you, I want to be yours forever...”

“Yes, honey, that's it... Repeat it... Come on, repeat it!” She asked you, the second time in a more abrupt way.

You bit your lip, knowing it was just what she needed. Just what you needed.

“I want to be yours... Make me yours, Marilyn...” You repeated with the most sexual moan you had ever emitted.

“Oh, fuck, I, I'm going to cum…” She said, moving her hips with force, until, with a sharp moan she stopped, pressing against your body, releasing inside of you.

“Yes! Yes!” You screamed when you felt the heat filling your body, when you felt a hot liquid filling you completely. Your orgasm did not wait, your vagina contracted with a gasp and your back arched under the watchful eye of your teacher.

Her dark, hungry expression changed as she finished. She was still inside you, but her eyes were wide, looking into yours, scared.

You began to see things more clearly. You didn’t know if the effect of that pollen had a limited duration in time, or ended once the desire had been satisfied.

“My God, but, what have we done?” The redhead said, beginning to get very nervous.

You had had the best sex of your life, even if it was under the influence of that plant. Maybe it wasn't time to confess your love, or maybe it was. Anyway, what was done was done, and proof of that was a trickle of liquid running down your leg.

“Marilyn,” you said, sitting up, as she pulled out of you and pulled up her pants, quickly covering herself. “I don't think it was a mistake...”

“Oh my God... They're going to fire me... I... Wait, you were of legal age, right?” She asked nervously, passing her hand across her forehead.

“Of course I am, I'm twenty years old,” you said, frowning, annoyed. “But those things you told me, that you were thinking about me...”

She sighed in relief and looked at you embarrassed.

“Please, tell me it wasn't because of the plant, tell me you feel something for me, like I do,” you said softly, getting up from the table and grabbing her waist. She turned around and took your hands, thinking hard about her response.

“Oh, fuck everything. Yes, (Y/N), everything I told you is true. I... I... I feel things for you, many things... I, I love you...”

You smiled and gave her a quick kiss on her lips. She closed her eyes, but then she smiled, pulling you into a hug.

“Me too…”

“Wait, you mean you came to the conservatory every night just to be with me?”

You nodded amused, giving her another kiss.

“You are crazy…”

“About you…” You answered. You kissed her again, now with more intensity. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the plant on the floor. “Hey, what do we do with it?”

Marilyn looked at the plant and lowered her head...

“We just have to pick it up, the effects have already passed, and I doubt it will affect us again for a while.”

You nodded and went with her to collect the crystals from the display case. She was looking at you, but with some kind of guilty feeling.

“(Y/N)… I…”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t… Don't think my intention was to treat you that way. I'm only like that when I'm confident… I hope I didn't hurt you… It was that damned plant’s fault.”

“Oh, then I guess I have to thank it,” you said jokingly. “Thank you, sinister plant.”

“(Y/N)…” Marilyn sighed.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Tuvok's Mother, T'Meni [Patreon | Ko-fi]

It's established in canon that Tuvok's father was a Starfleet officer (or perhaps just on the Yorktown?) but I wanted to make his mother the Starfleet officer while his father was on Vulcan. This makes more sense to me given that Tuvok's father seems more involved in his life (namechecked as banishing him). T'Meni is a Vulcan scientist who joined and climbed the ranks of Starfleet explicitly because she is so stringent about her adherence to logic. She prides herself highly on her control and the fact that being around so many different species, especially Humans, has not in any way compromised this control - which is explicitly the reason she wanted to join, to test herself. Both Vulcans and Humans find this weird. She's considered a bit of a zealot but not in a dangerous way, she's only testing herself after all and at the end of the day she's an advocate for peace and coexistence. She eventually retires from Starfleet after feeling she's learned and proven all she could. She teaches other Vulcans how to manage their emotions around other species when exposed to external stimuli for extended or indefinite periods of time and how to stay the path of a True Vulcan. Many people treat her with the reverence typically evoked by a Master. She considers herself to have no friends and prefers it that way. She is not particularly close to her family but doesn't have a bad relationship with any of them. The perception of her is 'a lone wolf' though she and Tuvok seem the closest out of everyone. He refers to her as 'Commander' when speaking with her which is why he doesn't find it strange to address Janeway, his friend of twenty years, consistently by her rank. _

Admiral: I served with your mother, you know…

[T'Meni: It is impossible for Vulcans and Humans to understand one another. It is imperative that we coexist. But we are too fundamentally different for one side to truly understand the other. Can you understand, intimately, the 'life' of a butterfly?]

Admiral: She was the strangest, coldest woman I'd ever met. But I guess she'd be pleased to hear that.

Tuvok: I doubt she would care about your opinion in any way. Nor do I…sir.

[T'Meni's picture on the Admiral's desk is stretched, cropped.]

Admiral: Ha! 'Vulcan nature', ensign?

Tuvok: Yes.

Admiral: Well…like mother, like son.

[Two butterflies.]

[decepti-thots]

That post about aileron reminded me of how I think of nautica trying to erase skids from her memory like she just doesn’t know how to cope with death and loss cause she was removed from the wild ass war! It’s a weird beat in the comic but it speaks loudly to me

Ohhh yeah. These two are definitely a couple different perspectives on a theme, as it were.

While I have critiques of Nautica's arc in execution there (it's… got a LOT of flaws and IMO does not stick the landing at all, to put it pretty mildly; hence why I find exRiD overall better at exploring these ideas), I think it's a real shame that unlike so many other arcs in MTMTE/LL with issues or incomplete resolutions or whatever, there doesn't seem to be a lot of interest in taking the core emotional idea and running with it in fandom spaces? It feels like a really toothy emotional hook to latch onto that a lot could be done with as a part of the canon that is definitely a font of massive missed potential and lingering threads. (God, it really kills me ever since it was first pointed out to me how Nautica and Brainstorm's relationship might change because he's watching her do what Chromedome kept doing.) Nautica gets stuck in a kind of Cheerful Generic Girl Best Friend mode in fandom that skips past uhhh. A lot of her actual canon presence, when you really look at it!

It's especially interesting to think about because as a species their feelings about death are very different, right? Which IDW1 does address, and MTMTE specifically mentions this, with Cyclonus talking about how there's one version of the Guiding Hand myth that states Cybertronians are "immortal" because they killed Mortilus. Like. They don't have a lot of context for death as a regular, natural part of life that everyone comes into contact with in the day to day. Caminus isn't just full of civilians in the way you or I might be a civilian during peacetime; if you're a civilian for these folks, death is an abnormality period, a freak accident or whatever at most. (And even then: you're so hard to kill, it can't be common.) Cybertronians in the war are the weird ones for being used to it as a regular occurrence, and for both Aileron and Nautica it's not just that their friends experience traumatic and violent deaths, but that they die at all. It's got to be existentially destabilising in a way so many of the characters on that ship just can't relate to. (Tailgate likely could, but he's uhhhh, he's got other stuff going on at that point, so we will forgive him being too busy, lmao.)

Hell, I mentioned Brainstorm. He's an MTO. MTOs are the first of the currently living generations of their species to grow up with no memory of a society in which people do not regularly die; even once peacetime sets in, we see that they have reached the point in their species' lifespan where death by old age is becoming increasingly common and thus part of their cultural landscape. Those are a lot of Nautica's friends, who maybe want to help but have no easy way to really understand why she's reacting so strongly, you know?

Ohhh I love Nautica so much. Can you tell. Someone hug that poor woman good lord.

[taylortruther]

That NYT piece is unhinged, and it will make the Kaylors feel like the New York Times agrees with them. Why can’t they just stan genuinely gay artists, not a woman who has only publicly dated men, and who has said this speculation makes her uncomfortable?

i think it's okay that the ny times wants to post opinion pieces like this - like it or not, taylor's sexual identity is a hot topic and has been one for years now, and the interest around it does speak to our societal concerns!

but i think this article in particular pushes a lot of thoughts that i have to challenge whenever i see them. primarily, that songs about fear or yearning in love are exclusively queer topics, and that a woman couldn't feel specific ways around a man. when it comes to taylor specifically, this article (and many similar ones) neglects to mention that she feels fear and trapped because she's felt hunted (by the media, "hunters with cellphones") every time she leaves the house. she's described men in her life being uncomfortable with her security or being seen with her or associated with her. she explicitly stated multiple times in her music and in miss americana that she found happiness with joe because it was happiness without outside input, and she had to unlearn an entire belief system (that she needed to be good and liked) in order to find security again.

i always understood why queer people saw themselves in her music. because fearing being "found out," needing secrecy, having to hide what you truly mean, is a completely relatable queer experience in a world that is so unfriendly to us. the writer touches on this at the beginning, too, with chely wright saying a huge star would need to come out in order to truly break up the status quo, and by saying that queer readings (even if they're "wrong") are necessary to normalize equality... but i think not diving deeper neglects a critical piece of this discussion. taylor's anxieties about fame and love are necessary to understanding her work, with or without the queer lens.

also, i think it's just glib sexism that makes people think that her tender love songs couldn't be written by a man. i don't know why the author thinks inthaf and hits different can ONLY be about women because nothing in them is gendered. maroon, sure, the line about lips is titillatingly questionable. but some gaylors have also said this about cardigan (men don't dance!), or treacherous (men don't use their hands in sex!), or so it goes (there's definitely not an extremely well-known sex act called a pearl necklace absolutely not) and like... even if taylor was a gold star lesbian, and wrote those songs about women, they still... could easily apply... to one's experiences with men...

idk like i hate this idea that queer people and straight people experience love in completely different ways. YES, societal/historical context changes how we experience the world. but we are still the same species. we still experience heartbreak and yearning and fear and joy and love and peace with people.

[picaroroboto]

I've been wanting for a little while to talk about Pandaemonium, and about Hermes, and what I think these two topics have to do with each other, so here goes. The whole time I was playing the story in Pandae, I kept thinking that I wish I could tell Hermes about all this. For one, because Hermes expresses that he feels he's the only one emotionally suffering, yet here is Erichthonios also clearly going through some shit, so maybe they could find some sort of solidarity together.

For two, because I feel Pandae proves Hermes right in his criticisms of the Ancient world. It's essentially every single flaw of their world in microcosm! Let me try to explain:

To start, let's review Hermes and his problems:

This is from the conversation with him after you show him the Elpis flower changing color for you. He expresses the sympathy he feels for creations, and how being forced to put them down for the sake of the star puts him in this ethical crisis. The entire Ancient world is built around this idea of "for the sake of the star" at the expense of all else, including the lives of their creations and their own individual emotions. Because of this, Hermes feels all the more isolated, as if he's the only one who ever feels bad or questions the foundation of their society.

There is something very, very twisted about the fact that Pandaemonium lies geographically below Elpis, the Hell to its symbolic Eden or Heaven. At the very moment Hermes is crying over having to put down dangerous creations, even more dangerous creations are being kept alive in a hellish gothic prison replete with chains and cages.

As I traveled through Pandaemonium, I also kept thinking "Why is it a prison?" Why does such a place even need to exist? As we find out in Anabaseios, the concept of it being a place to research dangerous creations is a cover story, it's more or less Athena's personal laboratory for her to pursue her goal of godhood. I've seen people praise Athena for being a more shallow and simple villain than Emet-Selch for example, but she's not just a megalomaniac:

"I am no different from our peers" is soooo telling. Her obsession with remaking mankind in her image isn't just a selfish madness, it's the ideals of the Ancients, their obsession with making perfect creations for the sake of the star, taken to it's furthest and most insane conclusion! (also note the irony in her belief that a goddess would remake the species better, when Hydaelyn, the only true goddess in the setting, chose to preserve them as they are. Arguably even making them worse by Sundering).

So Athena takes her duty to the star way too far, Lahabrea sees that she's become a danger to the star for it, and kills her, then cuts off the Hephiastos side of himself - another example of how ruthless the Ancients can be and how they justify anything for the sake of the star. Because the Ancients also place a low importance on emotion, he never talks to Erichthonios about Athena. Feeling neglected by his father and curious about his mother, Erich is lead deeper into Pandaemonium and made even more vulnerable to Athena's manipulations. So even if it was one woman's madness that spawned the action in Pandae, the other flaws of Ancient society serve to perpetuate and exacerbate it.

It's also worse mentioning that for Pandae being a prison for dangerous creations, you actually fight more transformed Ancients and corrupted Warders than you do actual animals. As my brother put it in his own meta, Pandae isn't a case of "inmates running the asylum" as much as it is the power that the Warders wield over their creations corrupting them. Athena is indirectly behind the Warder's transformations, but she also took advantage of vulnerabilities that were already there, like Hesperos's fixation on Lahabrea.

And the same obsession with perfect creations for the sake of the star, the abuse of the power over life and death, continues to characterize the Ancients after the Sundering, with the way Emet and the Ascians ruthlessly Rejoin Shards in order to bring back their "perfect" world. But what Elpis and Pandaemonium prove is that the idea of the Ancient world as a paradise is little more than Emet's grief and nostalgia talking. Hermes may have triggered the Final Days, but I feel the blame for destroying "paradise" doesn't lie entirely on him - his crisis was layered on top of myriad flaws with the world he lived in, flaws he felt he didn't have the freedom to talk about because everyone else believed the world was perfect.

Any world where people can't question the foundation of their society is very far from perfect. A world where people ruthlessly wield power over others, both creations and other people, in favor of a grand goal is no paradise. A world in which prisons exist is no paradise.

If my tone started to sound a bit vengeful there, it's because I sympathize deeply with Hermes, and can't help but feel a bit vindicated on his behalf when I think that Pandaemonium proves him right and Emet-selch wrong. But even after I've spent all this time tearing into the Ancient world, I feel like I have to remind both myself and any readers that the point of the conflict between the Ancient and Sundered world in FF14 isn't to objectively compare them and decide which is better and which is worse. Such pragmatism would be in-character for an Ancient, but we don't have to subscribe to their views. Think about it - even if the Ancient world was proven to be a true paradise, we'd still choose our broken world over it, because returning would cost too many lives, and because we love our world not because it is perfect but because it is ours.

The choice is just made a little easier by all this proof that their world was never as perfect as they said it was.