#while letting the atrocities of this world continue

[randomnumbers751650]

Thanks to constant recomendations from my discord friends and the fact it’s on Netflix so I can do the dishes while watching, I finally watched Wakfu and gotta say I was really impressed with the season 1 villain: Nox.

My friends used him to hype up the series and, gotta say, it does deliver. I have never seen a villain that combined themes of “choice” and “destiny” so well as in Nox. When he’s introduced in episode 1, he’s basically sparring with Groug…Grougalora…Gurren Lagann? But you can see how jovial he sounds – he really doesn’t seem to be in a hurry and it’s obvious Groug is strong and he leaves him alone.

Then, the series continues. He appears in the first three episodes, curses Alibert, and then disappears for, like, 11 episodes. We see him as a ruthless person, sending his minions to gather wakfu from all available sources. It’s kinda funny how he left the Oak alone and then returned the moment he needed more wakfu, it was like as if he was saying “Oh, wait, I remembered I could just its wakfu instead”.

The battle against Groug also shows that, in spite of his possession of the eliacube, he still has to rely on his resourcefulness, given how close Groug came to kill him. In spite of being active for 200 years, he’s still defeatable. My friends said he doesn’t show up in the prequel games, which means he was very efficient in not letting witnesses, his attacks could be masked as Ogrest’s calamities, and it seems he avoided large populational centers (if the world’s armies and heroes united against him, I don’t think he’d have a chance); some characters expressed skepticism at his very existence. The fact that he’s defeatable makes the battle much more compelling, because he’s going against something closer to a god. He prevails but not without great cost to him.

But we see brief moments there’s more to him than destruction. He has a strange sense of honor. In the day he harvests the Oak, he appears to Alibert and heals him, curing him from his curse. When Alibert asks why, Nox just replies “I don’t know” and then tells him he’s the only one who can understand why he’s doing that to the world. Given how much he understands how Alibert loves Yugo, it does feel Nox believes if Alibert was in his place, he’d do the same (Alibert’s response would probably be "no, I wouldn’t…right?”). In the battle against Groug, he does tell him that he’s not evil, there’s a sliver of goodness and he urges him to use it to stop, but Nox can’t/won’t.

In the final battle at the Sadida kingdom, he uses everything, his elite puppets, RAZORTIME, his clock mecha, managing to even kill a couple of important characters. The final showdown with Yugo and Adamai was great, because both sides were giving their all. In the end, Nox prevailed again – it did feel like a cop out (until a friend pointed out it was freaking Ogrest), because Yugo got distracted and then Nox killed him so easily, to the point you can even make the point he didn’t kill, only disabled him…but, yeah, he killed him, regretfully. And that meant he won.

Pay attention to his monologue as he activates the eliacube. He genuinely believes that his sins will be forgiven because he’s resetting time to see his family. Success means redemption. And he did it. Groug had told him it’s impossible to go back in time and he did the impossible. Unless the gods did it and didn’t tell anyone, he was the first being to do that. And what did he get?

Miserable twenty minutes.

All the wakfu he gathered for 200 years only last for 20 minutes. Do you have any idea of all the atrocities he committed for 20 minutes? So many life harvested?

The eliacube give him power beyond his comprehension. The amount of wakfu energy to rewind time 200 years would have to be incomprehensibly enormous, maybe all the wakfu in the entire universe. And Nox was just a man, resourceful but defeatable.

All that talk about forgiveness through success, that all his sins would be erased, all that for nothing. He will never see his family again. Then, the weight of his sins crushes him down and all he can spare is a single tear. That was even enough for Yugo, who had lost Percy, to sympathize with him. There’s even a soft 4th wall break, when Nox is looking at everyone surrounding him, it’s as if he looks to the camera, to the audience, and all we can feel in this moment is pity – he really realizes his sins will never be forgiven.

Nox’s tragedy raises the question: what if we had full awareness of our sins? He convinced himself he could, he bargained with himself for 200 years of his righteousness. And reality vibes check him so hard he just leaves. I feel that was the most poetic ending to him, no justice system can ever account for the multitude of his sins.

This makes worse with the OVA detailing his backstory. He was a father, with a beautiful wife and three kids that loved him dearly. He had struggles as a clockmaker, but even them they weren’t that bad. You can tell they were low-middle class or even medium middle-class, he borrowed money out of a healthy ambition – even if his “usurer” – Nox’s words – while playing the role of nagging banker seemed actually reasonable, even apologizing for letting the dog run, which implies that the guy was just a bit unpleasant, but not unreasonable, maybe willing to renegotiate the loans if something bad happened.

Maybe that’s this ambition that attracted the eliacube to Nox. His wife mentioned the bad feeling and it seemed he’d leave it at there. But there was really a mix of “choice” and “destiny”, the cube wanted Nox and Nox wanted the cube. And the cube changes him, gives him intelligence at the cost of everything. He kept building out of necessity and couldn’t see his family leaving him – they loved him until the end, even paying all his debts, but the cube made him forget.

In the final scene, when he finally turns into the Nox we know, he’s an emaciated husk of a man, so different from his healthy introduction. When the banker informs him about the death of his family, he loses it – it was probably the first time he thought of them in months, maybe years, and vowed to rewind time to get back to them. The cube made him a worse version of himself. Rewatching the series or some scene might be an interesting exercise of how much the cube was influencing him – I believe when he cured Alibert, the cube’s influence was somehow low.

Nox will just be remembered as a lonely madman who caused so much strife in the world for reasons that proved to be futile. Only Yugo and Groug will know that there was something more to him, but they will never know what this something was. In the end, he wasn’t a malicious person at heart, but a thoroughly broken man that lost the capacity of distinguishing between good and evil, and to reflect on his own actions, thinking he had already done that and that his success would redeem him.

But that wouldn’t happen.

[colorisbyshe]

Rejoice! Salvation Is Free, Just Accept Jesus Into Your Life Today!

if jesus were real i would call him down right now and ask for the chance to murder his father with my bare hands

[girlfictions]

something i’ve been thinking about lately is like. growing up muslim right after 9/11 is something i’d never really reflected on much because it was all i’d ever known — at 5, my friend��s mum didn’t let her invite me to her birthday party because i was the only brown girl in our class, at 12, my classmates would joke about my family being part of isis, at 16, my dad was interrogated by american airport security for hours — and it always stung and it always hurt but it was just the way things were because the western world hated muslims. but i don’t think i’ve ever fully comprehended the extent to which we were hated until now.

palestine is being turned into a mass graveyard. every single day there are new photos of the atrocities being carried out against them and videos of them pleading for help and still those who can actually intervene turn a blind eye. israel is claiming to only be targeting hamas “terrorists” while bombing a refugee camp. israeli police raided and assaulted a non-zionist jewish neighbourhood. israeli soldiers are posting tiktoks of them torturing captured palestinians. this is not a complicated issue and it never has been. ethnic cleansing is being committed right in front of us. and yet the western world leaders refuse to call for a ceasefire.

and while zionist organisations accuse pro-palestine demonstrations of anti-semitism, while zionist celebrities insist that they’re afraid to leave their mansions in los angeles, a six year old muslim boy was stabbed to death and his mother wounded in the same attack in chicago. a muslim doctor was murdered while sitting outside her apartment complex in texas. hundreds of peaceful protesters have been arrested (many of whom have been jewish). despite what zionists want you to believe, this is not a jewish/muslim conflict. i have so much love and gratitude to my brave jewish brothers and sisters all over the world who are condemning israel for their actions.

ultimately, israel have been granted impunity by the west. they have slaughtered thousands upon thousands of innocent palestinians. they have bombed hospitals and schools indiscriminately. they have used white phosphorus, violating the geneva convention. they have completely eradicated nearly 900 bloodlines. how many more need to be wiped out? how many more children need to be buried underneath the rubble? how many more doctors need to be confronted with the bodies of their own family members? how many more journalists need to detail the horrific acts of violence they are witnessing? what more can be done to the palestinian people that has not been done already?

i truly believe that palestine will be free one day. i believe the palestinian people will receive the justice they finally deserve. but what breaks my heart is how much they have suffered and will continue to suffer before they are deemed worthy of help. and it would be to all of our detriment if we ignored how much of a factor palestine being a predominantly muslim state has played into the way the world has reacted to their genocide.

[glazecake]

Palestine فلسطين

x / x / x | x / x / x | x / x / x

My goal with making this post is to use my platform to raise awareness and encourage solidarity and action for the people of Palestine. Over the past few weeks, I have felt powerless to watch the destruction of Gaza before the world's eyes. However, I realized that I still have a large platform despite this blog's inactivity. With this, I would like to share information about Palestine and what you can do to help.

In the above post, I have sought out videos of Palestinian food, culture, art, architecture, and nature to share. Israeli propaganda is trying adamantly to dehumanize the population of Palestine in order to further justify their genocide. Regardless, no matter where you are in the world, humans recognize and understand what it is to be human. What it is to make art, to share food with your loved ones, to travel, and laugh, and sing. To experience heartbreak and hardship, and to experience joy. To dream about the future. To stand up for what we believe in, to fight in the face of injustice.

If you are an American citizen, use your voice to stand up for what's right. Contact your representatives. Demand a ceasefire in Gaza. Boycott companies and celebrities who voice their support of the Israeli settler state. Protest. Donate. Organize. Fight. We are strongest when in community with each other. Our US tax dollars directly fund the murder of Gazan civilians. Make it known that we will not stand idly by while news outlets and propagandists lie to our faces about the atrocities enacted by the IDF and the Knesset.

Here are some links for information on Palestine, as well as places to donate:

decolonizepalestine - A website aiming to educate and dispel myths about the Palestinian people, ran by two Ramallah residents.

US Campaign for Palestinian Rights - You can use this website to find groups organizing near you.

Palestine Action US - The US branch of a directive aiming to dismantle the Israeli military regime, directly funded by the US.

Hirbawi Kufiya - The last and only Kufiya factory in Palestine, as featured in the gif above. You can pre-order a kufiya which will be shipped once the blockade has been lifted.

Let Gaza Live: Ceasefire NOW - An easy way to send letters to your representatives to demand ceasefire in Gaza.

The Palestinians: From Peasants to Revolutionaries by Rosemary Sayigh - A good introduction to the ongoing Israeli occupation of Palestine.

Click to Help - One click a day can help raise donations for the UNRWA.

baitulmaal - Donate to fund relief.

anera - Donate to provide hygiene kits for displaced Gazans.

As of October 27th, 2023, Gazans are losing access to the internet. It is imperative for us to share their stories, to continue to remain active and aware of their martyrdom. The IDF will utilize this information blackout to their advantage. We must do all we can. Do not forget the plight of the Palestinian people. Do not allow their voices to go unheard.

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free. 🇵🇸

[legalkimchi]

Please learn more than just a Phrase.

I don't expect people to be subject matter experts on issues of global politics.

But false equivalency is rampant in online discourse regarding three major conflicts in the world today. I am using the word conflict in this post, however, when applicable, i will use other words to describe specifics. (Nuance folks... it's a thing)

So i start off with an assumption that most people don't understand the basics of most international events. As an american, i only know some of the stuff that is happening within my own nation. This is not an insult to you, dear reader. Rather, it is a position we all must realize we are in. You do not understand most world issues.

You just don't.

you aren't there. it isn't your life. you don't have the academic background.

I saw a post recently calling for "freedom for Palestine, Sudan, and Congo."

And it bothered me. Not because i am opposed to peace, (how is asking for ceasefire a bad thing?) but rather because i believe simplifying the conflicts with this wording showcases the ignorance of the differences.

Not all conflicts are the same.

In palestine, we have a convoluted mess where two groups claim a territory as home. getting into the in-depth story of this conflict takes time. Foundational elements of it take place thousands of years ago, but the conflict itself is only about 75 years old. So it is a long and short story. Currently, the sovereign state of Israel is engaging in a genocide in Gaza. Asking for freedom for palestinians makes sense. they live in an apartheid state and would like a state of their own. they wish to be free of occupation. you can argue with the details, be pro-israel, or whatever, but that is the basic ask of palestinians. (if you want to get into anti-semetic regional sentiment or the desire of certain groups to eradicate the israeli jewish population or Israel as a nation that's a different topic, not the point of what i'm talking about.)

In the Congo and Sudan, it is a different story.

Let's start with the Congo. First of all, Which Congo?

Let's please understand that there is the Republic of the Congo and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. The Republic of the Congo is a former french colony. Then there is Democratic Republic of the Congo. Some of us might remember this country as Zaire.

the DRC is the congo we are talking about in the news. This was a former belgian colony and the atrocities committed by the belgians there rival any genocide in human history. i've seen estimates between 5 million and 20 million deaths. some estimates state the population of native congolese were cut in HALF. since the turbulent start of the country after their independence in 1960, the country knew relative peace until the 1990s. Then a mixture of a weak central government and the Rwandan Civil war (which had it's own genocide you may have heard about) spilled over into what was then Zaire. Zaire dissolved, and the DRC took it's place, But the wars have been raging off an on since then. earlier this year, more civil war violence erupted AGAIN. This displaced millions, AGAIN. while the DRC is a bit of an autocratic and repressive regime, the rebel groups are groups with ties with the Rwandan government and the other group with ties to Isis. It's awful all the way down.

Sudan has had an ongoing civil war for over 20 years. I remember this because i helped lead some anti-genocide protests regarding Darfur when i was in college 20 years ago. I've been following this conflict for nearly my entire adult life. you may have heard about this with regards to the Save Darfur coalition regarding the genocide in Darfur. Well, that genocide has continued (albeit with less intensity) for 20 years. the civil war lasted until 2021, but restarted in a different form in late 2023. the conflict is now between two different sides of the military government fighting each other.

It is an awful conflict full of awful leaders. Sudan's government suffered a revolution in 2019 from a dictator, only to have that government overthrown in a coup by the current dictator. The Sudanese military is supported by folks like Russia and North Korea. you might see that among the other countries that support sudan, bunch of communist countries, and you might think "hey, maybe al-Burhan is a leftist".

no... no he is not.

He is a military despot. He has no ties to any real ideology. He just runs sudan as a military dictator.

So who is opposing him?

The Rapid Support Forces. and you may be thinking "ok, so they are the good guys? trying to overthrow the dictator?"

No... They are the ones that instigated the Genocide in Darfur.

This is a situation is "no matter who wins, the people of Sudan lose."

So when folks claim these are all the same. Or wonder why folks talk about one and not the other.

there are reasons. These are very different conflicts. Please learn about them. It matters more than spouting some 4 word slogan calling for "freedom."

Find out what the people of these areas actually need. Learn more about what is happening. My description above is incomplete. I may even get some things wrong. I am trying to keep informed, but I am not an expert, nor do i live there. Raise voices from the region and find out if there are ways to help.

[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

On the "Choose a Side" Discourse

With HBO leaning veryyyy heavily into "pick a side" for their promos, the "no team" people are crawling out of the woodwork. I want to preface this post by saying that I'm not saying people shouldn't have favorite characters who aren't mine, nor that people should just be totally invested in fandom discourse.

I already made a post about the issues with the arguments of the "no team" people, so I'll just summarize my thoughts from that real quick. A majority of their arguments and metas are thinly veiled anti Rhaenyra thoughts. That's still true of this new wave of this group.

Now, one thing I will agree with them on is: GRRM did not write this story to be one of choose a side. However, that is not because the Blacks and the Greens are equally bad or the Targaryens are all evil. No, it's because the Greens were always in the wrong and GRRM makes this abundantly clear to us in F&B.

Let's look at some facts from the Dance. While male primogeniture is tradition, it's not the law; the king's word is law, something ASOIAF has established time and again. The Greens took the throne through underhanded ways. They left Viserys' body to rot for days while they prepared for Aegon's coronation to prevent Rhaenyra from learning and coming to KL. They forced the smallfolk to attend and most didn't cheer for Aegon, with some even calling for Rhaenyra while most were confused and angry.

Aemond drew first blood by killing the unarmed thirteen year old envoy, Lucerys Velaryon. A majority of the realm declared for Rhaenyra; 53 houses supported her, while only 28 supported Aegon. The Greens committed the greatest atrocities of the Dance: Aemond burning the Riverlands and Daeron massacring Tumbleton. They also committed the greater number of atrocities.

The Greens also lost the war. The Blacks weren't just fighting for Rhaenyra, they fought for her heirs as well. This is why they swore to her and Jacaerys; later for Aegon III after the deaths of his older brothers. The Black forces continued to fight after Rhaenyra's murder and took KL. Aegon was murdered by his own men when the Blacks were marching on KL; in other words, the Greens knew they were beat, so they killed Aegon in an attempt to save themselves. Since Aegon left no heirs aside from Jaehaera, Aegon III was crowned and married to Jaehaera. The Blacks won the war.

Aegon the Usurper's bloodline is destroyed with the deaths of Jaehaera and Gaemon Palehair. This is the final affirmation of the Greens being in the wrong. GRRM's books punish usurpers by wiping out their bloodlines; Maegor and Robert Baratheon being the most obvious examples. Aegon and all the Greens have no descendants, their bloodline is dead.

Rhaenyra's bloodline, on the other hand, continues all the way through to the main series. Daenerys Targaryen, the most powerful character in the series, is her descendant, as is Jon Snow (unconfirmed as of now in the books) who is another of the key five. Rhaenyra may have died, but her faction won the war and her bloodline will save the world through her two greatest descendants (alongside the rest of the key five).

The Dance of the Dragons is, ultimately, a story of the damage the patriarchy does and how misogyny is destructive to the world. The Dance caused the death of the dragons and a great loss of power for women in the realm. Queen consorts after Rhaenyra had markedly less power and there was a drop in female leaders of the great houses. The loss of the dragons caused the weakening of magic in the world as a whole.

The Dance isn't about who your favorite war criminal is, nor is it about the evil of the Targaryens. It's about misogyny; something HOTD seems to have forgotten. Even before they started pushing TB vs TG so hard, they still missed the point.

It doesn't matter that Rhaenyra isn't a perfect, or even a good, person. It doesn't matter that Rhaenyra is non-conforming, plays the political game, and exploits her father's favor. Rhaenyra could have been as pious and well-behaved as Naerys and the Greens still would have usurped her. Rhaenyra could have had children with Laenor, and still the Greens would have usurped her. HOTD tries to paint the usurpation as partially being on Rhaenyra and her choices, but nothing Rhaenyra could have done would have been good enough.

The Blacks are the protagonists of the Dance. Are they perfect? No. Are they heroes? No. GRRM loves his gray characters, the Blacks are no exception. If you people want a story with black and white morality and perfect protagonists, go read another book. Just because people aren't perfect and don't operate exclusively in what's right according to our modern standards doesn't mean they aren't the protagonists.

In conclusion: there isn't a TB vs TG discourse in the Dance because the Greens are the antagonists and completely in the wrong. The point of the Dance is that the misogyny of the Greens damaged the realm. Rhaenyra is the rightful queen, there is no actual argument for Aegon or any of his allies.

Rhaenyra is the rightful queen to Westeros, go cry to George if you don't like it.

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

I dont have a long funny title for these Nimona headcanons

Nimona will steal the boy's stuff all the time 

she’ll eat food off their plates when they’re not looking or will steal their food from the fridge 

She also steals all of Ambrosius’ rubber bands and claw clips 

And when she thinks the boys aren't wearing their clothes enough she’ll take them and either upcycle them or wear them as pajamas 

They’ve asked her a million times why she does this and her answer every single time is “It's fun”

The trio all have stims that the others view as harmful 

When Bal is stressed he’ll grind his teeth or bite his nails 

Nimona will bite his lips or pick at scabs that he let form

Ambrosius will bite the inside of his mouth or pull his hair 

And they all have little signals for each other to make them mindful that they’re doing it 

They don’t try and stop each other they know it’ll just make it worse but it’s a little reminder that they’re doing it 

Just a little “Hey I know you know yourself best and what you can handle but you’re also starting to bleed so please be careful” 

When they have their mouth stims the other will do things like whistle or hum just small things that you can’t do easily when you’re grinding your teeth or biting your mouth/nails

When Nimona is picking at his scabs the boys will tap their feet or drum on their legs 

And when Ambrosius is pulling his hair Nimona and Bal will offer to tie it up or braid it and sometimes they’ll just slide a rubber band over to him

If he doesn’t want the rubber band or doesn’t want them touching him they don’t force him they consider it a success because they still got through to him 

And if he lets them mess with his hair they consider it a bigger success because they love braiding his hair

When Ambrosius doesn’t have to go to work or doesn’t have to be in early Bal and Nimona take turns styling his hair

It doesn’t matter if it takes 5 minutes or 50 he’ll wait patiently for them to finish

And he leaves the house like that too no matter how crazy or stupid it looks

They have a little collection of pictures that they/civilians took and posted of their “masterpieces” 

Ambrosius has an 8-step skincare routine that he does every single day

Doesn’t matter if he’s witnessed every atrocity the world can throw at him he’s still doing it 

He also has a dedicated hair care routine that he spent hours researching 

Bal doesn’t give a singular solitary fuck what he puts on his face

As long as it’s cruelty-free not expensive and works he doesn’t care 

When Bal and Ambrosius first became friends Bal told him that he didn’t really wash his face even after he joined the institute 

Ambrosius almost passed out while whining about how the world is a cruel and unusual place 

He has worn Bal down over the years and made him use two products face wash and moisturizer 

He also found out that Nimona doesn’t take care of their skin at all

And when they saw how shocked Ambrosius was they continued by saying “In fact I take dirt baths like a chinchilla”

All he could choke out was “My lovely little tornado why?” They started laughing and claimed it’s “good for my immune system” 

Which caused Ambrosius to ask almost hysterically “What immune system?!”

[xzaddyzanakinx]

The General

General Anakin x fem reader

Warnings: slapping, unprotected sex, cum kink, spitting, anal penetration, dom/sub, piss implied but not outright stated, safe word mentioned.

Info: Anakin is whiny, like pathetically so. NOT PROOFREAD

Anakin had been gone on a mission for nearly a month, and today, he was coming home. The Clone Wars had taken its toll on him long ago, and it only continued to get worse. Each time he would come back a little more rough around the edges, it would take more time for him to settle back in to home life.

The weight of the world was constantly being stacked on his shoulders and he was tired of feeling like the Republic’s janitor. Cleaning up after their sloppy politics and poorly thought out plans. The stress was damn near eye level and he felt like a man who couldn’t swim. So close to sanity but far enough away that you could struggle for a bit before you drown.

“Darlin’?” He called out into your shared space with a creak in his normally honey smooth voice.

You rushed to the living room and threw yourself at him. No matter how many times he left, no matter how many times he promised you he would return safely, and no matter how many times he kept that promise; you were still afraid.

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, crushing you against his chest in a way that forced the air from your lungs. You expected him to release you any second now, but he didn’t, and his grip was only getting tighter.

“Anakin?” You asked softly, your voice a soothing balm for him.

“I’m sorry baby doll,” He said stoically despite the red rim around his eyes, “just real glad to be home.”

“How can I help? Do you need to talk about it?” Your concern for him was palpable and he sighed in acknowledgment of that fact.

“I-I just need a minute.” He conceded and went down the hall to your bedroom, eager to shower and put away his armor for the time being. “Come get comfy and I’ll hold you when I get out okay? I just… I really need a mental break.”

“It’s alright Ani, you just let me know if you need anything okay?” You assured him. “Do you need me to bring you anything?”

“Mmm. Well actually yeah.” He smiled softly. “A glass of wine?”

“I’ll be right back,” you forced a smile, ready to rip the head off whichever Separatist has made him return in such a pitiful state.

You returned as fast as possible, tossing his favorite robe in the dryer to warm up for when he got out on your way there.

“Here you go,” you hand him the cup and ran your fingers through his greasy hair. “When you’re ready, tell me. I put your bathrobe in the dryer for you.”

“Thank you sweet girl.” He chuckled tiredly, pulling the curtain back to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

He took a long gulp of wine and shuddered from the bitter aftertaste and handed the glass back to you, closing the curtain to resume his shower.

Not too long after Anakin called for you, and you brought him his warm robe and a towel, along with his favorite flannel pajama pants and a loose tank top. You returned to the living room to wait for him, having fixed a light meal while he was showering.

“Smells good.” Anakin mumbled as he walked over to the countertop and took the plate you made for him.

He joined you on the couch, staring mindlessly ahead as he robotically ate his food. His breathing shallow and tired as if these were the first breaths he had taken since returning. It pained you to see him like this, his personality tucked into the recesses of his mind in order to separate himself from the atrocities of war.

You’d do anything to take the pain from him, anything at all.

“Ani?” you asked softly, a ginger touch to his knee to capture his attention.

“Mhm.” He answered, his eyes glued to the TV.

“I’m worried about you.” You whispered.

“Don’t be. I’ll be alright.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed, you knew he didn’t mean anything by it, that he was just tired, but it still made you sad.

“But-“ You started.

“‘But’ nothing. I just need a break okay?” He turned to you with tears in his eyes. “I just need to not think!”

“Please just let me help you.” You reached out, your palm on his chest.

“You can’t help me.” He sighed, trying to calm himself. “You can’t replace me as General, you can’t erase everyone’s need for me to have all the answers or lower the expectations people have of the chosen one!”

You sat and listened, understanding that this was one of those times he needed to vent, he wasn’t searching for advice.

“I’m exhausted.” He whined, dragging his hands down his face. “So fucking tired of it all. This isn’t what I signed up for, Jedi are supposed to keep the peace and all we’ve been doing is contributing to the effort to destroy it.”

“I-I just want to not feel… needed. You know?” He asked, glancing over at you. “It would be nice to… to not make any decisions.”

“I-I understand why you feel that way.” You said softly, the look on his face telling you there was so much more he wanted to say.

“Anakin… please.” You looked up at him with wide eyes, emotion flooding you as you searched his face and found only truth in his former statements.

“I can help.” You said quietly, leaving your seat on the couch to kneel between his legs.

He didn’t respond verbally, but he didn’t try to stop you as you started tugging at his pants, watching his cock swell in anticipation as you stroked it softly through his boxers.

Anakin groaned softly, his cheeks flushing crimson at the unexpected touch. He tried to resist but failed miserably as you continued to tease him mercilessly.

“Feels good.” He managed to croak out between breaths. Eventually, he gave in, letting himself fall backward onto the couch cushions with a dull thump.

"Yeah, baby?" you purred, your hands now free to reach into his boxers and pull out that thick length he was blessed with.

He sucked in air through his teeth as you exposed his hardened member to the cool air of your shared space. It stood tall and proud, dripping with precum, just begging for attention.

You wrapped your hand around it firmly, stroking slowly at first before increasing the pace until you had him moaning loudly. Your fingers expertly massaged his balls while your tongue traced along his neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva behind.

As you worked him up further, Anakin arched his back against your ministrations, his hips bucking involuntarily in need. His cock throbbed violently in your grasp, almost demanding release. With a tight thrust of your hand, your thumb brushed against his sensitive head, sending waves of pleasure coursing through him.

“Remember a couple weeks ago, when you said I could be in charge?” You asked breathlessly, leaving his cock unattended for a minute while you took off your clothes quickly.

Fuck yeah, baby," Anakin growled, his voice hoarse with desire.

He watched you strip yourself naked piece by piece, hungry eyes devouring every inch of your body. Your breasts jiggled enticingly as they bounced free from your top, followed by your bra, revealing their plump firmness. As for your pants, they fell to the floor revealing your smooth pussy lips that were already glistening with anticipation.

"Tell me what you want." He managed to croak out between ragged breaths. His cock twitched violently in response to the thought of what was coming next.

“I got you alittle present.” You purred. “you know how I love it when you get all sensitive and whiny…”

Anakin groaned loudly at the mention of his weaknesses, but he couldn't deny the thrill it brought him. He raised his head slightly to see what you had prepared for him this time.

“I’ll be right back okay? I’m gonna fix it, make sure you’re feeling all better.” You said as you sauntered into the kitchen, looking back over your shoulder to encourage you to get to your room and your bed as soon as possible, and he quickly complied.

His eyes widened in surprise when he saw a small container filled with ice cubes in your hand, you brought the cold glass up to his neck and pressed it there. Bringing an uncomfortable stinging feeling to his flushed skin.

"Fucking hell..." he muttered, his voice cracking with desire.

"Go ahead," you encouraged, your fingers teasingly brushing against his sensitive flesh again. "Take one."

With trembling hands, Anakin reached out and carefully picked up an ice cube from the container. Slowly, he brought it closer to his cockhead, watching as goosebumps formed along his skin. Gently, he rubbed the cold surface against his tip before moving downwards, leaving a trail of icy pleasure behind. Each touch sent electric shocks straight up his spine.

“Feel good baby?” You asked softly, nipping and sucking at his stomach.

Anakin's entire body shook with each icy touch, his moans becoming more ragged and needy. "Yes... goddamn it feels good," he panted out between gasps for air.

"More," he begged, reaching for another ice cube, but you smacked his hand away.

You knew exactly how to push his buttons, teasing him just enough to drive him mad. This game of power dynamics between then two of you was one of your favorite things to indulge in during intimate moments like this.

With a sinister grin, you retrieved another ice cube from the container and placed it between your teeth before lowering yourself onto his throbbing member. The cold sensation against his sensitive head sent waves of pleasure coursing through him, causing him to arch his back again. His hands gripped tightly onto the sheets as you continued to tease him, the heat from your mouth coupled with the ice provided him with a feeling he’d never experienced before.

“This isn’t all I got planned.” You teased, pulling off his cock with a slurp to catch the ice.

Reaching for the bedside table you opened the drawer and pulled out handcuffs, lube and a vibrating butt plug from a brown paper bag.

Anakin's eyes widened in shock and excitement as he saw the array of toys you had brought out.

"Oh, hell..." he groaned, his voice cracking with desire. “You’re trying to kill me.”

"What do you want me to do with these?" he asked, his tone filled with both anticipation and fear. He knew what was coming next, but there was something about surrendering control completely that made him feel both alive.

“Take off your fucking clothes.” You commanded, swatting at his ass as he scrambled up to comply.

You secured his wrists to the bedpost to ensure he wouldn’t squirm away, then went back to mercilessly teasing his twitching cock. Stroking him with feather light touches.

“I’m gonna fuck you senseless, drain every bit of cum from you, make sure you can’t think a single thought.” You purred.

“You’ve been so stressed puppy… let me take care of you, hmm?”

Anakin's breathing became heavier as he complied with your command, his heart racing faster than ever. He lay spread-eagle on the bed, legs spread wide apart, exposing his hardened member and tight hole to your hungry gaze. His eyes were filled with equal parts fear and desire, begging for release while also craving punishment.

"Yes... please," he managed to croak out between gasps. "I need you."

You applied some lube generously onto both your fingers and his anus before slowly inserting one finger into his tight opening. The sensation caused him to squirm and moan loudly, his body tensing up involuntarily. You continued to tease him, alternating between gentle probing and rough thrusts that made him sweat and writhe in pleasure.

After several minutes of torturous teasing, you finally slid two fingers inside him, stretching him open further. Anakin's hips bucked wildly against your hand, his cock leaking copious amounts of precum onto the sheets below.

"More, please..." he begged, his voice hoarse.

“Gotta work this tight little ass open, don’t wanna hurt you baby.” You cooed, suckling the tip of his cock as you pumped your slim fingers slowly into his puckered hole.

“Let me know if it hurts okay puppy?” You said softly, taking his cock fully into your mouth and removing your fingers.

You continued to suck his dick sloppily, just how he liked it. Your tongue hanging out to cover as much of his shaft as possible while you started rubbing the lubed vibrating plug around the rim of his anus, before slowly pushing it inside.

Anakin groaned loudly, his body shaking with the combination of pleasure and discomfort.

"It hurts a little," he admitted through gritted teeth, his eyes watering slightly. "But also feels so damn good."

His cock twitched violently in your mouth as you continued to suck and stroke it while simultaneously teasing his tight hole with the vibrating plug, rocking it back and forth. The sensation was unlike anything he had experienced before, sending waves of intense pleasure coursing through him.

"More... please," he begged again, his voice cracking with desire. His hips bucked wildly against your mouth, begging for more penetration.

“Good boy, doing so well.” You praised, licking your way up his abdomen before hovering over his nipples.

“This good?” You asked, twisting the plug back and forth in his hole.

Anakin's entire body trembled with each twist of the plug, his cock throbbing harder than ever.

"Y-Yes... goddamn it feels good..." he managed to choke out between heavy breaths. His nipples hardened under your tongue's attentions, standing erect and ready for more.

"Baby please," he begged again, his voice cracking with need. His face contorted in frustration as he began pushing his hips against you in a futile attempt to gain more stimulation.

You nibbled and licked his nipples, completely leaving his cock unattended now. Knowing how uncomfortable it must feel for him.

“Can you come for me like this?” You asked, voice low and silky. “Can you be a good boy and cum for me?”

Anakin's body shook with each nipple tug, his cock throbbing and leaking.

"I... I'll try," he gasped out, his voice shaking with need. "Just... please..."

“You can do it baby I know you can.” You encouraged, thrusting the plug farther into his ass each time.

“I’ll touch your cock after you cum for me okay?” You promised, having him open his mouth so you could suck on his tongue.

Anakin's body tensed up, his cock throbbing violently in anticipation of release. The combination of pleasure and discomfort became too much for him to handle anymore.

"Now... NOW!" he cried out, his entire body convulsing as waves of orgasmic bliss washed over him. His cum shot across your chest and stomach, painting a messy canvas of white liquid. Breathing heavily, he collapsed back onto the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"That was... fuck..." he managed to croak out between gasps for air. "Best fucking thing you ever did to me."

“I’m not done.” You growled.

Slowly removing the small plug you showed him one the next size up, coating it in a generous amount of lube before guiding it slowly into his anus.

“Just relax, just lay back and let me take care of you alright?” I cooed.

Anakin's eyes widened in shock and disbelief as you continued to push the larger plug into his tight ass, stretching him even further.

"N-No! Stop!" he pleaded, but it was futile against your iron grip.

"Relax, baby," you commanded sternly, your voice laced with authority. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

With a final push, the larger plug popped inside him, filling him completely. Anakin gasped loudly, his entire body tensing up again. His cock twitched weakly, still coated in his own juices.

"O-Oh god..." he managed to utter out between ragged breaths.

“Feel okay puppy? Do you need me to stop?” You asked, caressing his jaw.

Anakin's face contorted in pain and discomfort, tears welling up in his eyes. "No... no don’t stop..." he whimpered out, his voice barely audible.

His body trembled as if on the verge of collapse, but there was a tiny part of him that secretly enjoyed this newfound sensation of being completely taken over by you.

"Just... give me a minute," he finally managed to choke out through gritted teeth.

Tell me when you’re ready baby.” You soothed him with sloppily kisses to his neck and collarbones.

Moving down to start softly sucking his cock again while holding the plug firmly in place.

Anakin's body shook with each suck and stroke, his cock growing harder again despite the intense fullness in his ass.

"I... I can't..." he moaned, his voice cracking with desire and frustration. "Please... just... stop for a second."

After a few more minutes of this torture-pleasure cycle, he finally spoke up. "Okay... I'm ready... please..."

“Sweet boy, you’re doing so good for me.” You praised, kissing his cockhead and nibbling on his shaft.

“Gonna turn it on now okay? It’s gonna vibrate harder than the other one.” You warned him softly before clicking the button and feeling it buzz too life.

Anakin's body tensed up again at the sudden increase in stimulation, his cock throbbing violently. "O-oh god..." he groaned, his voice a mix of pleasure and discomfort.

He squirmed, trying to push away from the vibrating plug but was held firmly in place by the handcuffs.

"Please... make it stop..." he begged, tears streaming down his cheeks. His cock twitched wildly, leaking more of his seed onto your chest and stomach.

Do you need your safe word Anakin?” You asked softly. “say ‘Red’ and I’ll stop.”

Anakin's eyes widened in shock, his mind racing with the implications of using his safe word. He hadn’t considered it before, but now...

"N-no... I can handle this." he managed to choke out through gritted teeth. "Please, keep going."

His body shook violently as the vibrations intensified, pushing him closer to another orgasm. "I'm close... please... I'm gonna cum again..." he begged, unable to hold back any longer.

You twisted the plug and pushed it a bit farther, triggering his orgasm almost immediately.

“Oh look at you, so pretty when you cry for me.” You whispered, swallowing his whimpers with a kiss.

Anakin's body convulsed violently as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss washed over him. His cock erupted again, coating his chest and stomach with his seed.

"Ahhhh..." he groaned, his voice breaking with the intensity of his climax.

"That was... fuck..." he panted out between ragged breaths, his face still flushed red from the experience. "You're a fucking monster."

"Clean me up baby," he requested weakly.

“You love it.” You teased. Licking and sucking all the cum from his stomach and cock before tapping his bottom lip, signaling him to open his mouth. Which he did, hesitating before opening his mouth obediently.

You spit a glob of saliva and cum directly onto his tongue and then forced his mouth shut. Anakin gagged and choked, his eyes watering as he struggled to process the foreign taste.

"M-more... please..." he begged between heavy breaths, his body trembling from the strange combination of lust and disgust.

“You ready for my pussy?” You purred, straddling his hips and positioning yourself over his dick. Anakin's eyes widened in shock as he felt your wet, warm pussy surrounding his cockhead.

"W-wait, just a second darlin’, wait!” He managed to croak out, unable to form coherent words. His hands trembled against their restraints as he so badly wished to reach up to hold onto your hips, grip them tightly and stop your movements.

“I’m gonna ride you real slow, I want you to feel every bit of me.” You whispered.

Anakin's cockhead twitched violently inside you, his hips bucking wildly as he tried to thrust upwards in response.

"Y-Yes... give it to me..." he groaned, his voice filled with need and desperation.

He could feel every inch of your tight, wet pussy engulfing him, as you slid down slowly stretching out your cunt around his thickness. You moved slowly, agonizingly slow, you wanted this to last.

"Fuck me harder!" he pleaded, his words coming out ragged and hoarse. His arms pulled against his restraints causing the handcuffs to dig into his flesh as he begged for more.

“No.” You said sternly. “but I’ll turn up the vibration.”

You smirked, watching his eyes fly open as you increased the setting by two notches. Anakin's entire body shook with each increase in vibration, his cock throbbing violently inside you.

"Oh god... please stop..." he begged, his voice breaking.

So you did, you stopped all movement and turned off the vibration completely. He immediately cries out in frustration, tears spilling over his cheeks.

“N-no! No! I didn’t mean it!” He whined, high-pitched and drawn out.

His hips bucked wildly, trying to find relief but only managing to push himself deeper into your tight channel.

"More... please... I need more," he begged again, his eyes pleading with yours.

“Beg me for it.” You commanded, seating yourself fully on his cock and rocking gently. Playing with your clit just to torture him alittle more.

Anakin's face contorted in pain and pleasure, his body trembling with each contraction of your pussy around his shaft.

"Please... I need you to fuck me harder! Make me cum!" he begged, lust practically dripping from his tongue.

You turned the vibration back on suddenly and without warning. Causing him to groan loudly and thrash his arms against his handcuffs. His cock throbbed violently inside you, leaking a mix of precum and left over semen from his previous orgasm.

"I can't take much more of this..." he panted out between ragged breaths, his eyes pleading with yours.

“Oh my poor baby.” You pouted, tracing his lips with my fingertips. “you’re just leaking cum everywhere aren’t you?”

You sped up just a bit, sliding up and down his cock harder with each down stroke. Anakin's body jerked with each powerful thrust, his cock throbbing in sync with your movements.

"Y-Yes... fuck me harder... please..." he begged, his voice a whimper. He could feel the edge of another orgasm approaching, but it seemed so far away yet so close at the same time.

"I need... I need to cum... Please... let me cum!" he pleaded, his eyes begging for release.

“You can do it baby. Go ahead.” You cooed, pinching his nipples with one hand and shoving your fingers in his mouth to quiet him with the other hand. Anakin's body tensed up, his cock twitching violently as he held back the orgasm. His body refusing to comply with his needs.

"Ahhhh..." he groaned, his voice muffled by your digits. Sweat dripped down his forehead and, mixing with saliva from his mouth.

"I... I can't... please..." he begged, his hips bucking wildly against yours. His cock throbbed in sync with his heartbeat. You slid off his length carefully, listening to his whiny protests with a grin. You seated your self back between his thighs, your hand twisting and pulling the plug while he squirmed.

With a final push of the plug, he lost control completely, his entire body convulsing in another powerful orgasm. His cum shot out like a waterfall, covering your chest, stomach, and even some of your face with his essence.

"Fuck... I came so hard- shit.” He groaned.

“Good boy.” You praised him, kissing him softly before pouncing back onto his cock.

“Oh gods- damnit!” He yelped.

“Now I’m gonna fuck myself on your cock, gonna use you like a dildo alright?” You said sternly.

Anakin's eyes widened in shock and surprise as he felt you ride him mercilessly, slamming down onto him over and over again.

“Such a big cock… stretching me out so good.” You moaned, gripping his throat.

Anakin's cock throbbed violently inside you, his hips bucking in sync with each powerful thrust. "Y-Yes... fuck me harder..." he begged, his voice hoarse from all the moaning and pleading.

"More... please... I need more," he panted out between ragged breaths, his eyes locked on yours.

You quickly turned the vibrator up two more notches, it was now buzzing so violently now that you could feel the vibration from his cock.

“Oh god damn.” You moaned. “fuck yes baby.”

Anakin's body shook with each powerful thrust, his cock leaking fluids inside you.

“Y-Yes... please..." he moaned, his hips bucked wildly, trying to push deeper into your tight channel.

"I'm close... I'm gonna cum again," he panted out between ragged breaths, his eyes pleading with yours.

“Go ahead baby, cum for me.” You panted.

Anakin's cried out as another powerful orgasm engulfed him, his cock erupting inside you, coating your insides with his seed.

"Ahhhh..." he groaned, his voice hoarse from all his pathetic pleas. His hips bucked wildly, trying to milk every last drop out of himself.

"I... I... can't... I... oh god..." he panted out between heavy breaths, his eyes glazed over with exhaustion and satisfaction.

You turned the vibration up all the way, using him as a human vibrator while you sat still on his cock, rocking your hips back and forth while you rubbed your clit furiously.

Anakin's cock twitched and throbbed inside you, his hips bucking wildly as he tried to match your movements.

"H-Holy fuck..." he groaned, his voice barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing.

“Shhh deep breaths baby.” You shushed him. “I’m almost done.”

"Y-Yes... almost..." he managed to croak out between ragged breaths. His eyes were glazed over with exhaustion and satisfaction, but there was a look of dissatisfaction as well.

“More. I need something- something more.” He whined.

“You need something else?” You laughed, waiting until he closed his eyes to slap him across the face.

Anakin's head jerked to the side, a red mark appearing on his cheek where you had slapped him.

"I... I need you to fuck my ass again." His voice was barely audible, barely more than a whisper.

“Alright baby I can do that.” You smirked.

Reaching behind you and thrusting the plug back and forth in his ass, twisting and pulling it. Anakin's body tensed with each rough thrust of the plug, his cock twitching in your pussy.

"O-Oh god... please..." he moaned, "More... please... I need more," he begged, his eyes shut tightly.

“You want the next size up?” You asked with a devilish smile.

Anakin's eyes widened in shock and fear, his body tensing up. "N-No! Please... I can't handle that!" he begged, his voice trembling with panic.

"I... I... I'm full... please don’t..." he pleaded, his eyes filled with tears.

“Okay baby, it’s okay.” I said softly. “I’ll just get my vibrator okay?”

You reached behind yourself and grabbed your massage wand vibrator and pressed it to your clit, giving him even more stimulation as he could feel the vibration through your pussy clenching around his cock.

Anakin whimpered and whined as the vibrations intensified, his cock throbbing in sync with each powerful thrust of the plug.

"O-Oh god... please..." he groaned, his voice barely audible above the combined sounds of your heavy breathing and the humming of the vibrator.

"I'm... I'm gonna cum," he panted out between ragged breaths, his eyes glazed over with pleasure and exhaustion.

“Good boy that’s it.” You encouraged him, riding his cock faster as you got closer to orgasm. “look at those pretty tears.” You wiped one with your thumb and licked the saltiness away.

His hips bucked wildly, his hands clenched in pain. Grunting and groaning through gritted teeth. He looked as if he’d run a marathon and was being forced to do a second lap.

“Let it out baby, come on.” You praised. “I can’t hold it Anakin.”

“Here it comes baby, I-i’m oh fuck! Fucking- damnit!” You doubled over on his cock as you came hard, clenching around his cock and leaking juices everywhere.

"Ahhhh... yes!" With each powerful contraction of your muscles, his cock pulsed violently inside you, releasing another massive wave of his seed.

"Y-You're so tight right now... oh god..." His pupils overtaking his irises, leaving no room for his beautiful eye color.

"I... I can't... I'm done... please..." he panted out between ragged breaths.

“Oh Anakin.” You whined, feeling hot semen leaking out over your cunt, dripping down to his balls. The lewd squelching sound along with the feeling of being stuffed so full of his seed triggered another orgasm.

“Holy-“ You panted, cumming again in rapid succession. “s-sorry baby, hold on.”

“I can’t! No, no- it hurts.” Anakin whined, tears falling down his cheeks. “ah! Fuck!”

A hot wet liquid shot out into your cunt, too thin to be cum, and far too much of it.

“N-no!” Anakin whimpered. “No! M’ sorry, so sorry.”

“Shhh it’s okay, I’m so proud of you Anakin, so so proud.” I told him, shutting off the vibrator and slowly sliding off his cock. Taking in the sight of the massive puddle beneath you both as you reached up to take off his handcuffs.

“Sorry I’m sorry.” He sobbed, “didn’t mean too.”

“Oh my sweet boy, it’s okay.” Crawling over to him and letting him rest his head on your shoulder in a sleepy hug. “You know I don’t mind.”

He hiccuped out a tired chuckle, “I know, I’m still s-sorry though. I- I didn’t ask first.” He whined apologetically.

“Is this what it feels like when I tie the vibrator to your pussy for punishment.” He asked, sleepy enough that he slurred his words.

“Yes.” You laughed.

“Oh, okay. I get why you scream now.” He mumbled.

“C’mon let’s get you cleaned up.”

TagList:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch @cherrylooney @star611

@tahliac11 @exquisit3corpse @jeldog @arzua10

@bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay

@aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn

@illiethefairy @slut-4-ani @offthethirlwall

@slutforhayden @ausskywalker @angelsadmired

@slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie

@starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @no1klet @lethargic

@allhailbuckybarnes @shadowhuntyi

@bobtheturmpetman29 @mortalheartache

@fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot

@joshfutturmansrighthand @chaoticantihero

@vadersslut @luvvfromme

[doumadono]

Warnings: violence, viking!Dabi, viking!Shoto, earl!Endeavor, viking!Natsuo, viking!Hawks, fem!reader, viking themes

Summary: in a Viking world of power, secrets and warriors, a young woman captured during a raid finds herself entangled in the life of Dabi, the enigmatic eldest son of the ruthless earl. As secrets, scars, and desires collide, their unconventional connection unfolds in a tale of love, danger, and destiny

Word count: circa 6.1k

A/N: if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know ♥

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER • NEXT CHAPTER

ACT II - SHADOWS OF DECEIT

In the steamy chamber, you, your initial shock gradually replaced by compassion, hesitated for a moment before approaching the bath where Dabi sat. You knew it was your duty to assist him, but the sight of his scarred skin made you cautious. Your hands trembled slightly as you prepared to help him bathe. "Can I help you bathe?" you offered quietly, not fully sure how to start the conversation.

Dabi regarded you with those piercing turquoise eyes, a hint of curiosity evident. "You can," he replied simply.

As you assisted Dabi in the bath, your hands gently touched his scarred skin, your fingers moving with care over the gnarled patches. The silence between you was broken when you couldn't resist your curiosity any longer. "How did you get these scars?" you asked, your tone soft and understanding.

Dabi leaned back, closing his eyes briefly, as if summoning the strength to share his story. Eventually, he nodded, and his voice carried the weight of a painful history as he began to recount the tale of how he had come to bear these disfiguring marks. "It happened when I was just a child," he began, his words tinged with a mixture of bitterness and sorrow. "My own father, the earl of this village, attempted to kill me by pouring boiling tar on my skin. He saw me as a threat to his position and did everything he could to eliminate me."

You listened with a heavy heart as Dabi continued to describe the cruelty he had endured, the story of a young boy who had survived a brutal attack and grown up to become the man you saw before you, marked by both physical and emotional scars.

As you worked, the steamy chamber filled with the scent of herbs and the sound of water splashing. "It's scary and so sad," you murmured softly, your words echoing the sympathy that welled up within you in some way.

Dabi frowned, turning his head slightly to face you, his eyes locked onto your. "Don't pity me," he snarled, his voice laced with defiance. "I don't need that."

You felt a pang of regret at your words but continued your actions, gently washing his skin, the soap and water mingling with the steam. Your touch was a silent reassurance, a way of offering comfort without words, as you carried out your task with care and understanding.

The bath process, while seemingly mundane, became a moment of connection and shared understanding between two individuals whose lives had become unexpectedly intertwined in a world of harsh realities.

Dabi couldn't help but break the silence with a question that weighed on his mind. "Aren't you angry with me for what I've done anymore? You seem so calm?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

You paused for a moment, your gaze fixed on him, and then you responded firmly, "I'll forever hold a grudge for what you and your men did. It's unforgettable and unforgivable. The pain of losing my friends will never fade, but what can I do? I'm nothing but a slave now."

The words hung heavily in the air, and the room seemed to grow even more suffocating. It was a stark reminder of the atrocities that had occurred during the raid, the wounds that would never fully heal, and the complex emotions that tied them together in a world where forgiveness was a rare and elusive commodity.

The bath eventually came to an end, and Dabi rose from the water without the slightest concern for his nakedness.

You quickly averted your gaze, not wanting to intrude on his privacy by looking at his unclothed form.

Dabi noticed your discomfort and chuckled, his voice laced with a snarky edge. "Haven't you seen a naked man before?" Dabi asked casually, as he nonchalantly wrapped a towel around his narrow hips. His tone was light, as if he was attempting to ease the tension that lingered in the room, although the enigmatic smile on his lips suggested a hint of mischief. His comment, while teasing, hinted at a sense of amusement.

Shyly, you admitted, "I have seen a few times before, but… it does make me uncomfortable." Your voice held a hint of bashfulness as you confessed your unease.

Dabi grinned mischievously and remarked, "Well, well, you must be a sweet virgin then, untouched by a man before."

His comment caused a rosy hue to spread across your cheeks, and you cleared your throat, struggling to find a response. Finally, you replied, "That's not something I think is necessary to discuss, sir."

Dabi chuckled darkly, his eyes locking onto yours as he told you, "I appreciate your help, but I no longer require your assistance. You may proceed to other tasks."

With a respectful nod, you bowed your head and quietly left the chamber. Once the door was closed behind you, you took a deep breath, attempting to steady your racing heartbeat. Why was your body acting that way?!

Meanwhile, Dabi donned fresh, warm woolen clothes and flopped onto his bed with a smile that refused to leave his lips. As he lay there, he couldn't help but ponder the intriguing encounter he'd had with you. Your presence had stirred something within him, a fascination that was as unexpected as it was undeniable. Thoughts of you lingered in his mind, and he couldn't help but wonder what secrets and complexities lay behind those attentive eyes.

You and the elder woman, Hilda, whose name you had learned, found yourselves working together to prepare the evening supper and clean the Great Hall. There was little conversation between you, both recognizing the need to focus on your duties in a world where neither of you had many options.

As the evening descended, the Great Hall was transformed into a place of feasting and celebration. The long wooden table was laden with a lavish spread, featuring roasted meats, freshly baked bread, hearty stews, and a variety of fruits and vegetables. The earl, Endeavor, and his sons, along with the most honored warriors and shieldmaidens, gathered at the table.

Amidst the flickering torchlight, they feasted, drank, and discussed the latest raid and their plans for the coming months. The atmosphere in the Great Hall was one of camaraderie, where bonds were forged over stories of battles and victories, and where alliances were strengthened through shared experiences in a world where strength and strategy reigned supreme.

From your vantage point in the small chamber that you now shared with Hilda, you couldn't tear your eyes away from the raucous scene unfolding in the Great Hall. The feasting and celebration, in the wake of the brutal raid that had cost so many innocent lives, left a bitter taste in your mouth. "I hate them," you whispered through clenched teeth, the anger and sorrow in your voice evident. "They killed so many noble, innocent people, and they're celebrating!"

Hilda remained quiet for a moment, her eyes fixed on the revelry below. When she finally responded, her voice was heavy with the weight of the past and the harsh realities of their world. "It's a cruel world, my child. Sometimes, we must endure the unbearable in order to survive."

As Hilda instructed you to bring some wooden logs for the fireplace, you reluctantly nodded, asking to borrow one of her large furs to shield yourself from the biting cold of the night. She handed it to you, and you wrapped the warm fur tightly around your shivering form before stepping out of the small chamber and leaving the Great Hall. The night was unforgiving, but the task at hand beckoned, and you were determined to fulfill your duty.

Unbeknownst to you, Dabi's sharp gaze caught your departure, and he furrowed his brows as he observed your exit. He couldn't help but wonder about your sudden absence, but Natsuo, by his side, provided a distraction by refilling his mead and engaging him in another conversation.

Unbeknownst to Dabi, another pair of keen eyes observed your departure from the Great Hall that night.

The path to the stable proved unchallenging, as you followed Hilda's directions, taking two left turns and then one right. The wooden structure loomed ahead, its massive door firmly closed. The village appeared deserted, with most of the villagers having retired to their huts or gathered within the Great Hall, consumed by their own activities and discussions.

After a bit of struggle, you managed to open the stable door. As you stepped inside, the warmth and the distinct, earthy animal smell enveloped your senses, causing you to wince slightly, not being accustomed to visiting stables frequently. Inside, a row of horses stood, their large, powerful forms exuding a quiet strength.

Your eyes fell on one particular horse, a magnificent black stallion with a flowing white mane that contrasted sharply with his dark coat. There was a certain allure to the creature, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You approached him, and with a gentle hand, you reached out to touch his soft nose.

The horse, seemingly recognizing your gentle demeanor, nuzzled your hand, allowing you to pet him. The texture of his coat was smooth and warm beneath your touch, and his eyes, deep and expressive, held a sense of wisdom. With genuine admiration, you whispered, "You're a beautiful creature, aren't you?" You whispered, petting his cheeks and forhead.

As you admired the striking black stallion in the stable, your first thought couldn't help but connect the dots – the resemblance was striking. You couldn't help but wonder if this magnificent horse was, in fact, Dabi's steed.

With a sense of accomplishment for having befriended the horse, you looked around the dimly lit stable. The moonlight streamed through the opened door, casting elongated shadows across the interior. After a brief moment of humming to yourself, your eyes fell upon a pile of wooden logs tucked away in a corner. The silver glow of the moonlight illuminated them just enough to be visible. You carefully made your way to the corner and began to pick up a few logs, cradling them in your arms. The weight of the logs felt reassuring, and you knew they would be essential for the warmth of the Great Hall's fireplace. With your task complete, you made your way back toward the door, ready to return to your shared chamber and continue your duties alongside Hilda.

As you turned around to leave the stable, you heard a brief, low chuckle, and your eyes darted toward the source of the sound. In the doorway, a figure stood, his presence initially hidden in the shadows.

"Well, well, so you're our new thrall," a voice, deceptively sweet, called out from the figure, and he stepped into the moonlight.

Uncertain about who this person was, you bowed your head respectfully and replied, "I'm sorry, but I need to take these back to the Great Hall."

You attempted to pass by the man with the logs in your arms, but before you could do so, a strong hand latched onto your arm, pulling you closer with a sudden force that caused the logs to tumble from your grasp.

"Wait, wait, easy," the two-colored eyes of the young man bore into yours in the dim moonlight.

As you saw him more clearly, you couldn't help but notice the striking contrast in his appearance. His face was remarkably handsome, his eyes mismatched with one being a captivating turquoise and the other a deep gray. His hair followed suit, evenly split between white on one side and fiery crimson on the other.

"Please, sir, let me go. I don't need any trouble," you whispered, attempting to muster the courage to speak more fluently.

The young man, his confidence evident, allowed his gaze to wander over you in a way that was both bold and borderline cocky. His eyes took in your figure, assessing your presence with a mix of curiosity and amusement. There was a playful, mischievous glint in his mismatched eyes that seemed to suggest he enjoyed the effect his scrutiny had on you.

You couldn't help but feel a mixture of discomfort as Shoto's attention remained fixed on you.

With a brazen confidence that made your heart race, the man gently took your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He slowly turned your head from left to right, examining your face closely. "Well, I think I know why my brother spared your pathetic life," he mused with a sly grin, "You're not so bad looking with your doe-like eyes."

Before you could react, he leaned forward and inhaled deeply, his breath brushing over your neck. He let the tip of his tongue trace along your skin, tasting you with a sensuousness that sent shivers down your spine. "Mmmm, delicious, truly," he murmured, his voice laced with a tantalizing allure that left you trembling. "Did you already warm my brother's bed?" The man chuckled darkly, his tone dripping with mockery. "I pity you if you did. He looks so gross, and he is just a ruthless dog," he continued, one of his hands slipping down to rest on your hip. "But if you'll be a good girl, I can help you out, little one."

His words were a disturbing blend of disdain and desire, leaving you in a disconcerting predicament, trapped between your vulnerability as a thrall and the unsettling advances of a man who seemed to delight in pushing boundaries. "Let me go," you pleaded once more, your voice laced with desperation as you tried to yank yourself from his grasp. A whimper escaped your lips when one of his hands slipped beneath your skirt, pulling it upward. His smooth hand glided up your leg and caressed your inner thigh.

"Mmmm, so soft. You Christians have the softest skin, I must say," he mused with a dark chuckle. "Oh, don't resist. I promise I'll take good care of you. What? You've never been possessed by anyone until now? That's even better," he continued, his words a disturbing blend of arrogance and desire, "I'll show you what a real man has in his pants."

Your heart raced, and a sense of fear and vulnerability washed over you as you found yourself trapped in this perilous encounter with the young man. Summoning a surge of courage, you swiftly raised your knee, delivering a well-aimed strike to the man's groin.

He groaned in pain and released his grip on you.

Seizing this opportunity, you made a break for it, rushing out of the stable and turning left, only to stumble and fall into the arms of a tall figure who had intercepted your path. Gasping, you looked up and realized it was Dabi.

"Are you okay?" he inquired, tilting his head with concern.

Still trembling from the encounter with the other man, you instinctively snuggled closer to Dabi, casting an anxious glance back to see the man leaving the stable as well.

"Oh, Touyaaa," the younger man mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with our dear father, celebrating your successful raid?"

The tension between the two brothers was palpable, and you found yourself caught in the middle of their complex dynamic, uncertain of what to expect next.

"I could pose the very same question, Shoto," Dabi retorted, his tone low and filled with irritation.

So it was Shoto Endeavorson, the youngest of the earl's sons, you realized.

"Missed the festivities, Dabi?" Shoto continued to taunt, his voice dripping with mockery. "Or did you get tired of drinking mead and listening to the warriors' war stories?"

Dabi, his expression unyielding, responded with a hint of sarcasm, "Unlike you, I had more important matters to attend to."

Shoto's grin widened as he continued his verbal assault, "Important matters? I'm sure you were busy with looking for your new thrall here." His eyes flicked toward you with a knowing smirk. "She's a delicate one, isn't she? I can see why you're so taken with her."

Dabi's grip around you tightened as if to shield you from Shoto's insinuations, and he retorted in a low, measured tone, "Jealousy doesn't suit you, brother."

Shoto's taunts only grew more sarcastic, bold, and dark. "Jealousy? Me?" he feigned innocence, his grin never wavering. "Why would I be jealous of your newfound… entertainment?" He cast an appraising glance in your direction that made your skin crawl. "I can have any girl I want. I can't say that about you. Ah, our dear Touya, always the less loved of us, has managed to find himself a woman who pities his tragic past and those unsightly scars. How delightful," Shoto sneered with biting sarcasm, not stopping himself from checking you out again. "She has nice legs and ass. I'm sure her pussy is sweet too."

Dabi's patience was wearing thin, and the tension in the air thickened. His voice was low and dangerous as he warned, "Watch your words, Shoto."

But Shoto seemed determined to push his brother's buttons, his tone now dripping with malice. "Oh, Touya, you've always been so protective. But perhaps it's not jealousy I'm feeling, but concern." He walked in closer, his voice a venomous whisper. "After all, we wouldn't want another accident like the last time, would we?"

The insult hit its mark, and Dabi's temper flared. In an instant, Dabi gently pushed you aside and closed the gap between himself and Shoto. His hands shot out, gripping Shoto by the front of his shirt, nearly lifting him from the ground. "Apologize to the girl," he grunted, his voice laced with a protective edge.

Shoto, far from intimidated, mocked the situation. He sneered at Dabi, his voice filled with defiance, "Apologize? Why would I apologize to a mere thrall, Touya? She's nothing but our slave."

It happened in the blink of an eye - Dabi was the first to land a powerful blow on Shoto's face.

The confrontation between Dabi and Shoto escalated rapidly, the air filled with tension and the sound of fists connecting with flesh. The fight was fierce and unrelenting, each brother determined to gain the upper hand.

Dabi's anger fueled his strength as he delivered powerful blows, attempting to subdue his defiant younger brother. Shoto, however, was agile and determined, his own strikes landing with precision.

Amidst the chaos, you screamed for help, your voice echoing through the little paths, desperate for someone to intervene and separate the two men.

The battle raged on, a whirlwind of fists, grunts, and the sound of bodies colliding.

Dabi and Shoto ended up on the ground, a tangle of limbs and fierce determination. Shoto somehow managed to pin his older brother to a sandy path, raining blows down upon him.

Desperate to stop the violence, you rushed forward and grabbed Shoto's shirt, attempting to pull him away from Dabi. However, Shoto abruptly turned, and with a swift, brutal motion, aimed a blow at your face. The impact sent you sprawling to the ground, and you whimpered in pain, feeling warm blood trickle down from your injured nose.

"Touya! Shoto!" The deep, commanding voice reverberated through the air, halting the fight in its tracks. The imposing figure of the earl himself stood nearby, putting an end to the violent clash. "What are you doing?! Stop it right now!" Endeavor's voice commanded authority, and in that moment, Dabi seized the opportunity to push Shoto off himself, swiftly getting to his feet and bowing his head.

"Forgive me, father."

Shoto also stood up, dusting off his clothes, and gave you a cold, dismissive glance before looking up at his father. "Not my fault he started it. I just…"

"Enough!" Endeavor's growl cut through the tension. "Return to your chambers. I don't want to see any of you tonight." The earl's stern order left no room for argument.

Shoto quickly retreated from the scene with a scoff as he witnessed Dabi extending his hand to help you up from the ground.

Dabi asked if you were okay, his tone genuinely concerned, but you simply nodded and moved away from him. Being your captor, you weren't willing to stay too close to him for too long.

He offered to lead you back, but you declined, shaking your head and wiping the blood from your nose with the hem of your sleeve. Instead, you returned to the stable to retrieve the wooden locks you had left.

Later that night, after Hilda had treated your nose, you lay in your bed, shivering slightly from the cold. The unfamiliar surroundings and the tumultuous events of the day made it difficult for you to fall asleep. The night seemed to drag on, but eventually, exhaustion claimed you, and you slipped into an uneasy slumber.

In the days that followed, you hadn't seen either Shoto or Dabi. The routine of daily chores and duties kept you occupied, and it was during these tasks that you had some pleasant conversations with Natsuo, the middle brother. Despite your different backgrounds, you found him to be a kind and intelligent young man, and you developed a growing respect for him.

As you worked on preparing food, cleaning, doing laundry, milking cows, and collecting herbs, you found solace in the busy routine. It kept your mind occupied and helped you feel like a part of the settlement.

During the evenings, you always found a quiet moment to say a little prayer, clutching the small cross you wore as a charm on your necklace. It was your silent act of faith, a private connection to something beyond the Viking traditions and beliefs. So far, no one had noticed your small act of devotion.

One evening, Hilda asked you to bring food to Touya's chamber as the prince hadn't eaten anything for almost two days. Reluctantly, you agreed, taking a wooden tray and heading to his private room.

You knocked on the door, but there was no immediate response. Deciding to step inside, you found Dabi sitting in front of a long mirror, focused on sewing something. "Good evening," you greeted him, holding the tray with a meal. "I brought you a meal."

Dabi's tone was unusually cold as he said, "Leave the tray and go."

Confused and concerned by his abrupt change in behavior, you couldn't help but frown. He had never been this harsh with you before. You mustered the courage to ask what was wrong, and when he turned to face you, your heart sank.

Dabi was sewing his cheek right by the corner of his lips, mending the area where the purple skin had cracked from the healthy one. The sight of his self-inflicted wounds left you in shock, and you gasped, unable to contain your horrified reaction, instinctively covering your mouth with your hands. Oh, God…"

"There's no God of yours arund," he replied. "Just leave."

However, you couldn't bear to see him in pain, and you shook your head, silently offering to help him. "Let me help you, my lord."

After a long moment of tense silence, he finally nodded in reluctant agreement.

You approached him carefully, not wanting to make the situation worse. "I can assist you with that," you offered, your voice soft and filled with concern.

The wound on Dabi's face was a gruesome sight. His cheek, near the corner of his lips, bore a jagged tear where the purple skin had cracked in several places. Blood oozed from the fissures, creating dark, crimson streaks down his pale skin of his fingers. In one hand, he held a needle, and in the other, a set of metal staples, tools he was using to attempt to mend the torn and damaged flesh. It was a painful and gruesome process, and you couldn't help but wince at the sight. "Are you in pain?"

Dabi, his voice strained and hollow, spoke, "I don't feel much anymore. My dark skin, it's been destroyed to the point that I can't feel much of anything." He went on to explain, "It happened after my fight with Shoto. He hit me in certain spots, several times, and it left me like this, with my skin tearing like a fucking paper." The indifference in his words contrasted with the evident pain he had endured.

You felt a pang of guilt, knowing that this had happened as a result of your fight with Shoto. You took the responsibility for their intense confrontation upon yourself. "I'm so sorry, Touya… I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Dabi's expression softened as he replied, "It's okay. I don't hold a grudge. Honestly, I'm just grateful that I was in the right place at the right time. I shudder to think what might have happened if I hadn't been there for you that night. My youngest brother, he's unpredictable."

You carefully assisted him, holding the needle and thread as he began to mend the torn skin. Each stitch made you wince in sympathy, and you couldn't help but ask, "Am I hurting you?"

Dabi, with a playful smirk, teased, "No, not at all. I'm just mocking." His words were light, and he continued the process, bearing the pain as he let you help him, a strange connection forming between you in that moment.

Once the task was completed, you couldn't shake the curiosity about the full story behind Dabi's scars. "Could you tell me the whole story behind your scars?"

He glanced at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Are you sure you're strong enough to handle it?" he teased.

You looked back at him, determination in your gaze. "I want to know, Dabi. Please share it with me." Despite the teasing and his enigmatic persona, you wanted to understand the man behind the scars and the mask.

Dabi nodded, and he began to recount the harrowing tale of his scars. His voice carried the weight of years of pain and betrayal as he spoke. "I was just a child when it happened. My father, the earl, decided that he needed to 'toughen me up' for the battles to come. It was just him making an excuse. He invited one of his most loyal warriors, a man known as Hawks, to help with my 'training.' The so-called training involved boiling tar being poured over me. The pain was excruciating, and I could feel my skin blistering and burning. Hawks and my father just stood there, watching, as I screamed in agony. They hoped I'd die." His voice trembled slightly with the memories, and there was a profound sadness in his eyes. "I endured that torment, and it left me scarred, both physically and mentally, I won't lie. But I didn't succumb to my wounds," Dabi explained, his voice holding a note of grim determination. "No, I survived. I was reborn, but not in the way my father intended. I emerged from that torment stronger, more ruthless, and unwavering in my purpose. This is the person I've become, shaped by the brutality I endured." His eyes held a fierce resolve. "As for my father's hopes of having an great heir, well, he can rest assured. No woman would willingly share her bed with me, not after what I've been through. His precious Shoto is likely to inherit the title of earl when he passes, and then his kids. It's a fate I've accepted, but the sorrow within me is still strong as it was the day it happened."

As he shared this shocking and heart-wrenching story, you couldn't help but feel a deep sympathy for the man before you. His past was filled with unimaginable suffering, and it had shaped him into the person he was today. In a moment of empathy, you placed your hand on Dabi's scarred shoulder. "We come from two different worlds, yes," you began, "and I can't pretend to understand everything you've been through. But I don't pity you. Instead, I see how the cruel path you've walked has shaped you. It's made you strong, in your own way."

Your words seemed to take Dabi by surprise. He looked at you, his turquoise eyes locking onto yours, a hint of shock in his expression.

As you turned to leave his chamber, the impact of your words lingered in the air. Dabi couldn't help but think about what you had said. Despite the brutal circumstances that had brought you together, there was something about your meeting that had left a mark on him, like the tar all those years ago.

Two months had passed since you were brought to the Viking settlement, and the seasons had shifted from summer to full autumn. The days were marked by rain and cold, but you were slowly acclimating to the new climate and your life as a thrall.

During this time, you found yourself spending more moments with Dabi. He allowed you to assist him with various tasks, whether it was helping him with chores or lending a hand in the stables with his stallion. The surprising part was how friendly his horse had become with you. The stallion would allow you to feed him hay, carrots, and apples, forging a peculiar bond between you and the majestic creature.

These moments, in the midst of a harsh and unfamiliar world, were becoming a source of connection and comfort in your life as a thrall.

Shoto dismounted his horse, his boots hitting the rocky terrain as he arrived at a quaint little hut nestled in the mountains. The view from this vantage point was breathtaking. Below, the settlement sprawled out, framed by the bay's sparkling waters that lapped against the shoreline. It was a mesmerizing sight, a serene blend of natural beauty and human existence.

He tethered his horse and entered the hut, a touch of irritation in his voice as he spoke, "Finally. I was getting slightly worried you failed me."

The hut's interior was dimly lit, a fire crackling in the hearth, and an air of secrecy hung around them.

The tall man, with his golden eyes and a hint of mockery in his voice, replied as he sat near the fireplace, "Failed you, my lord? How could I fail you?"

He was Keigo, one of Shoto and Endeavor's most trusted subordinates. Hawks was a formidable Viking warrior known for his imposing presence. Tall and lean, his blonde hair framed a strong jawline, and his golden eyes had a piercing intensity that sent shivers down his enemies' spines. What truly set him apart, though, were the intricately detailed wings tattooed on his back, a symbol of his prowess and the source of his moniker, "Hawks." Among the many tales surrounding Hawks, one gruesome reputation stood out. He was known for performing a ritual called the "blood eagle" on his defeated enemies. This horrifying act involved the careful removal of the victim's ribcage, which, when spread out, resembled the wings of an eagle. It was a terrifying spectacle designed to send a message of dread and fear to anyone who dared to cross paths with him, solidifying his reputation as a ruthless and feared warrior.

Shoto folded his arms, still a touch irritated. "I need to know, Takamison, did you do as I instructed? Did you find the information we need?"

Hawks nodded to Shoto, his golden eyes filled with the excitement of discovery. "I did as you instructed, my lord, and I've learned some intriguing information. Earl Gizzor is indeed working for another, very powerful earl. He resides in the northern part of Sweden. What's even more interesting is that this earl used to work closely with your father, Endeavor, years ago. They were allies in many ventures, but it seems their partnership turned sour due to a significant conflict of interests and businesses."

His voice held a hint of anticipation, eager to see how Shoto would react to this newfound information that could have far-reaching consequences.

Shoto lounged casually in a chair near the fireplace, his legs crossed, and one arm draped lazily against the chair's back. "Alright," he said with a nonchalant air. "Tell me everything you've discovered."

Keigo, still standing, couldn't resist a hint of mocking amusement. "Well, my lord, before I share such valuable information, I believe it's only fair that I see my payment first, don't you think?" He grinned, clearly enjoying the moment of leverage.

Shoto's eyebrows narrowed as he reluctantly reached under his leather vest. He retrieved a small woolen money bag and tossed it casually at Hawks' feet. The bag jingled with the sound of golden coins.

Hawks picked it up, his glare quickly replaced by a sly smirk as he counted the coins inside. "You're surprisingly generous today," he commented. After a brief pause, he leaned in, his voice lowered. "The powerful earl your father used to work with is none other than Toshinori Yagison."

"All Might," Shoto grinned. "Well, well."

"So, what's my mission now?" Keigo inquired, polishing his sword.

Shoto couldn't help but grin widely. "You see, after Touya's successful raid, he's been gaining favor in our father's eyes. I can't allow that to happen; Touya can't regain a powerful position in our family again. I need him either dead or sent on a mission he'll never return from."

Hawks considered Shoto's words, and a dark, intriguing plan formed in his mind. "I've got an idea, a mission that might just solve your problem," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Hawks leaned in, outlining his devious plan to Shoto. "Here's what we'll do. We'll create a fabricated map, detailing a journey to a remote and dangerous territory, one that's rumored to be filled with riches. I'll make sure it falls into the right hands—specifically, someone who will share it with Dabi. And once Touya embarks on this perilous journey, we'll ensure he never returns. Whether it's the treacherous terrain, bandits, or an 'unfortunate accident,' he'll be out of the picture for good."

Shoto nodded in approval, his grin revealing the sinister pleasure he took in the plan. "Very well, Hawks. Let's set this plan into motion, and rid me of my brother's growing influence."

Hawks pulled aside his shirt, revealing a massive scar that marred his otherwise unblemished skin. The scar extended from the side of his neck all the way down to his lower abdomen, a gruesome reminder of the harrowing encounter he'd had in the North of Norway. "I ventured to a dark place up north," Hawks began, his voice heavy with the memory. "A desolate, forgotten land where it's easy to get lost, and danger lurks in the shadows. I was attacked by something… something I've never even seen. It left me with this."

Shoto couldn't help but flinch at the sight of the scar.

"The locals speak of a malevolent force, a powerful draugr said to inhabit that forsaken place. It's haunted, and some claim the spirit of a vengeful Viking warrior resides there. I barely escaped with my life, and I'd advise no one to venture into that cursed territory."

Shoto listened intently, and a wicked smile crossed his face. "Perfect. That's precisely the place we need to send my dear brother. If the draugr doesn't get him, the treacherous terrain will."

Shoto left Hawks' hut with a dark grin etched on his face. As he mounted his horse, his mind was abuzz with the sinister plan he was concocting. The idea of getting rid of Dabi, his older brother, appealed to him more with each passing moment. With Dabi out of the way, he would be next in line to claim the throne after their father's demise. The pieces of his twisted plan were falling into place, and he was ready to set it in motion. As he rode back towards the Skjaldvargr, a wicked glint danced in his eyes, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of power and anticipation. Shoto was determined to ensure that Endeavor's days as the earl would be far from long and happy. He was willing to do whatever it took to ascend to the position of power he believed he deserved, and nothing would stand in his way.

heathen wolves: @indignant-alpaca @misafiryanki @roast-toast @within-eyesight @crystalwolfblog @haseki-huricihan

[txttletale]

i'm genuinely curious about your stance on the russia/ukraine conflict in its entirety, if you'd be willing to talk about it? your viewpoint sounds interesting based on the posts you just made but idk how to really ask about the complexities of it in particular

the russia/ukraine war is an interimperialist war between russia & the NATO bloc using ukraine as a proxy (hence why i compared it to the similarly inter-imperialist world war i). obviously first and foremost it is a horrendous tragedy for all the working-class people involved who have been killed, tortured, & displaced. on this blog i am more critical of the horrific neoliberal economic reforms, open state embrace (sometimes literally!) of neonazi paramilitary groups, intensification of ukrainian state repression, and blatant bloodthirsty militarism of ukraine's imperial sponsors than i am of russia's imperialism & war crimes because i am blogging on a majority-western website to a majority-western audience who are already being exposed to relentless media coverage about the russian atrocity de jour to manufacture consent for the constant escalation of military conflict (i talked about this a while ago).

ultimately it is best understood (like any war, or any foreign policy event in the history of humanity) as states on all sides amorally pursuing their own interests--in this case, as all states involved are bourgeois states, the interests of their national bourgeoise--which only rarely and tangentially align with the elementary well-being, let alone the interests, of any of the human lives at stake. a ceasefire and peace negotiations should be arrived at as soon as possible, and anti-imperialists and communists in both russia & the NATO bloc should be doing everything in their power to bring that moment closer by eroding consent and support for the war and obstructing the industries and insitutions that are allowing it to continue

[6lostgirl6]

Ties That Bind Part 2

Pairing: Yandere!Anakin Skywalker x Fem Jedi!Reader

TW: General Yandere Behavior, Kidnapping, Mentions of Murder, Angst, Arguing.

A/N: I hope everyone enjoys the second installment of Ties That Bind! I really enjoyed writing this with the amazing @britany1997! She is just so pleasant to work with and made this collab fun and exciting! Please, make sure to support both writers by reblogging both versions. Both writers put equal amount of work into this collab and both deserve equal treatment. Reblogs are always appreciated!

Word Count: 2.1k

When you regained consciousness, your eyes began to flutter open. The momentary confusion was evident in your gaze, and the surroundings around you felt hazy. However, the darkness was something you easily recognized. Your brows furrowed in slight pain, and you felt a severe headache pounding against your skull. Your Jedi senses appeared dull, leaving you feeling a touch jaded. While your mind was trying to catch up, you laid there for a brief period of time, letting your fingertips feel the silk sheets of a strange bed.

Slowly, you sat up in bed, wincing slightly as the movement worsened the ache in your head. Your eyes finally began to adjust as you took in your surroundings. Your brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of your surroundings, scanning the room with a mixture of curiosity and bewilderment. The fog of unconsciousness slowly lifted, allowing you to regain a basic awareness of your immediate environment. It was dark; the walls and floor were painted black, which matched the furniture within, and the blinds of the window shielded the outside world. The room looked extravagant yet simple, which reminded you of your home back in the temple-

The temple. 

There was a subtle shift in your facial expression—a flicker of recognition—as your mind grappled with a dark realization. Your eyes widened as you proceeded to throw off the sheets, trying to hastily spring from the strange bed. You yelped when you almost stumbled, and your legs were tangled in the sheets due to haste. Your mind was in shambles as you continued your way to the window, blocking out any source of light. Despite your headache and the panic surging through you, you pressed the button on the wall to remove the blinds. You couldn't help but gasp at the sight, wishing that you had stayed unconscious. 

You were surrounded by land that had been burned by fire, molten from lava, and much more. This gave you the impression that you were in an inferno or inside a volcano that destroyed everything around it. There are many tales of a planet like this that you have heard over the years.

Mustafar. 

Your heart began to race as your mind whirled. ‘No, no, no,’ you repeated to yourself over and over again. You begged to be awoken from your slumber, surely this could be nothing but a bad dream.

But as much as you pleaded, you would never wake. Your nightmares had turned to reality.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you fought a losing battle to stay calm. You fell against the door, pounding it with your fists and sobbing as you called for Anakin. 

When no one answered your pleas, and the door remained firmly shut, you pressed your back against it and slid down. With your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, you wept.

You wept for all the lives lost in the temple massacre as every face you would never see again passed through your memory. You wept for Anakin and whatever sickness had overtaken him to act with such carelessness for life. But most of all, you wept for yourself.

What had you done wrong? What atrocity had you committed to be deserving of such a harsh fate? 

You were a prisoner who’d committed no crime, and you fought to resign yourself to an unknown future. You were at the mercy of a man you’d once thought more virtuous than any other. He’d taken everything from you.

After a few hours of weeping, you began to hear the distinct sounds of approaching footsteps from the hallway, heading towards your room. Your mind switched into defensive mode, quickly bringing yourself to your feet and facing the closed metal door. Your heart pounded against your chest, with anxiety and adrenaline rushing through your veins. You feared not what you would see on the other side.

But rather who. 

It was at this point that the footsteps halted in front of the metal door, after which it automatically opened. The sliding of the door revealed the last person you had ever wanted to see, as your heart would no longer be able to withstand it. You couldn't bear to see him.

Anakin stood in the doorway, dressed in his previous robes. Your eyes darted over the fabric, looking for any hints of blood, that horrific shade of red that used to appear across the floor of the temple and in the cauterized wounds of your fellow Jedi. However, those hints were nonexistent, and you felt sick to realize that there was a glimmer of relief you possessed within. Perhaps he didn’t want to upset you more. 

He moved towards you, kneeling to your level, his hand outstretched to cup your cheek. You recoiled out of instinct, turning your head to avoid the caress of your captor.

A look of pain crossed Anakin’s face before he quickly masked it. This was what he’d been afraid of. He’d let the whole galaxy think he was cruel, but not you. He’d never hurt you. He loved you. Why couldn’t you understand that?

“My love…” Anakin began, but you cut him off with a humorless laugh.

“Love?” you scoffed, “is that what this is to you?”

You turned to meet his gaze and your heart clenched inside your chest. His eyes looked into yours with longing and desperation. But their yellow tone confirmed your fears and reminded you of what he was. He was not your Anakin, not anymore.

“This is not love,” you whispered, “love should never come at such a high and terrible price.”

Though he hid it well, frustration ran through Anakin. He had to make you see.

He caught your wrist in his hand and brought it to his chest, holding your palm over his heart. You gasped and tried to pull back, but he would never let you go.

“Please listen,” he begged.

You sighed, if only to understand why he had done what he’d done, you would listen.

“I’ve spent my whole life loving you,” he confessed, “I couldn’t let some code keep us apart my love. You are my world, my whole universe, without you there is no reason to breathe. I could not stand another night pretending that I don’t want you, that I don’t need you. I’d sooner destroy every planet than live only loving you from a distance. I couldn’t keep denying what was true in my heart.” His grip tightened gently on your hand that was still pressed to his chest. 

“I would do anything for you baby,” he leaned forward until his lips were pressed to the shell of your ear, “I already have.”

Your eyes brimmed with tears once more; the sick affection lacing his words made your heart skip a beat, and if the situation had been different, you would have returned his passion. However, the haunting images of those people who’d once walked among you, now dead in the hallways, couldn’t leave your thoughts. 

“Anakin…” You began, your tears threatening to fall down your face once more as your body became rigid from the way his forehead pressed against your temple, his lips brushing against your skin. “You killed innocent people, our people; I would have never agreed to this!” 

You pulled away from him slightly, making Anakin reluctantly follow suit as your eyes met once more, his yellow irises seeming to pierce your entire being. His grip on your hand pressed against his chest was strong, refusing the notion of losing your sacred touch. 

“I know you wouldn’t, my love,” He replied, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “You’re so sweet and innocent, but that’s why I had to take you baby, don’t you understand?” Anakin brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, “every night I’d be plagued by visions of your corpse my love, I needed to protect you but the high council never would have let us be together. I did this for you. I refuse to lose you over some code; I’ll destroy the entire galaxy if it means making you mine and safe.” 

His golden gaze darkened for a moment, which you almost didn’t catch. The idea of his visions coming true caused a sick feeling that threatened to overtake him. 

“You’ll understand that one day.” He concluded. 

Your jaw dropped. You were sure Anakin had had his fair share of girls falling at his feet, and maybe one of them would have envied your position.

But you were a Jedi Knight. You were once a youngling, chosen to be a Padawan, eventually advancing to your station now. You’d earned your place alongside Anakin and all those who had fought to maintain order and justice for the peace and freedom of the galaxy.

You may be sweet, but you were not innocent, and you certainly didn’t need anyone else’s protection.

The fear that had crept into your heart was replaced by a burning anger. It wasn’t up to anyone but yourself to decide what was best for you. Anakin wasn’t the master of your fate, you were.

“Anakin,” you began, maintaining your calm demeanor so as not to upset your captor, “you have to let me go. Nothing will hurt me Ani, I’m going to be fine, but you must atone for your crimes.”

You gathered your courage, “what you did was wrong, no matter if you think you did it for the right reasons. You have to turn yourself in, and you have to let me go.”

Anakin’s eyes widened, his heart racing from the words he was hearing fall from your precious lips. This wasn’t what he was expecting at all. In his mind, he thought you would have been happy for what he did—fall into his arms and return his feelings. He didn’t expect you to retaliate and say such horrible things. You’ve never spoken against him before, ever. 

“Turn myself in?” He repeated as his eye gave a subtle twitch, his yellow orbs darkening as he tried to swallow his anger. “Don’t you turn against me now; nothing is going to harm you because I’m here, without the code getting in my way. You're safe because of me. You would do well to remember that, my love.” 

"No Anakin..." You whispered, pulling yourself out of his grasp once more, the storm in your eyes growing stronger yet the breaking of your heart was undeniable. "I'm imprisoned by a monster and I would rather die than return your feelings." 

"W-What?" He whispered, feeling like his heart was being ripped from his chest. It was like he could barely breathe. as panic began to course through him for the first time in a long while.  "Don't you ever say that to me."

"I love you, my sweet girl..." Anakin continued, trying to step closer to you but you continued backing away. He felt like he could die at this moment, being refused your affection and love. "I know you feel the same way..." 

"I did once..." You answered, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing your arms, ignoring the tears threatening to escape you once more. "But I will never love a monster, the Anakin I loved is gone."

Anakin fought to keep tears from rolling down his cheeks, your words cut deeper than any swipe of a lightsaber he’d ever received. You were his everything, yet here you were, treating him as if he were nothing.

“Then the Anakin you loved was a lie,” he whispered, “I am who I’ve always been.”

He grasped your wrist firmly, careful not to hurt you but desperate to remind you that he was a powerful man. “All I want,” he ran a hand down your cheek causing you to flinch away, making his heart clench, “all I’ve ever wanted…was you.”

You pulled your wrist from his grasp. He sighed as he let you. “Now that I have you, I’m not letting you go, not ever.” 

You lip quivered as you fought back tears of your own. 

“I’ll be back when you’ve learned to accept that,” he told you, his voice breaking. The door closed behind him, sealing you into your room that might as well have been a cell.

“No! Wait!” you rushed to pound on the door but to no avail.

“Let me go Anakin,” you sobbed, “you have to let me go. Please, please let me go.” Your body shook and you choked as your tears flowed, forming a puddle on the ground.

Anakin leaned on the other side of the sealed door, head in his hands as his own tears fell. He hated to hear you so upset. He longed to pull you into his lap and wrap his arms around your cute, tiny frame. He imagined how he’d hum to you and dry your tears as he rocked you back and forth. 

Yet he knew that you’d only reject his comforting embrace. He wept, your desperate cries too much for him to bear. He’d do anything for your love. 

Anything but let you go.

Spam Liking W/O Reblogging = Blocked

Tagging: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed @leiasolo77 @britany1997 @misslavenderlady @arianamhm @rottent33th @slaasherslut @vampirefilmlover

[pumpkinbxtch]

Hope you’re having a good day!! I haven’t requested anything in a second…so may I request an apollo x reader :3 ??? fem! I don’t have any other specifics in mind, maybe just daughter of hermes!reader ??

that’s all

tyy you’re the best mwah ❤️❤️

painting date ｡⁠*ﾟ

— apollo x daughter of hermes! reader

warnings: none

a/n: oh gods, I have never done a daughter of Hermes, I feel like I have to improve. I promise to do it but for now, I offer this to you with all my heart.Thanks for always coming, you know I got your back, girl. kisses 💙

You let out a big sigh and tossed the brush onto the grass with resignation. Apollo glanced up from his own canvas resting on his lap and gave you a gentle look.

— Finished?

— It's really bad. Not my thing — you said, puffing out your cheeks as you watched him continue working on his painting. The idea of painting each other's faces wasn't going as well as you had imagined. Half an hour had passed, and you had already given up on Apollo's portrait, while he couldn't tear himself away from the canvas, smiling satisfactorily.

You were curious about how his was going, so you stretched your neck for a glimpse, but he immediately tilted the painting to avoid it.

— I could... steal something for you. I'm good at that.

— No stealing.

— Connor has those cookies you like.

— No — Apollo said firmly, taking another brushstroke.

— A prank on Mr. D?

Apolo rolled his eyes and leaned against the tree trunk, still holding the canvas out of your view.

— As much as I'd love to see my brother covered in something gooey or something like that. No.

You pouted and admired your own painting. A total disaster, the proportions weren't good at all. You decided not to give it to him; it would be an offense to his ego. Apollo coughed, drawing your attention.

— Can I see it, darling?

You abruptly refused. You wouldn't let him see the atrocities you had done to his face for anything in the world.

— Come on — he insisted, smiling slightly.— I've finished mine.

— wasn't very smart to suggest a painting date to the god of arts — you said.

He chuckled. Your heart was racing faster than you could accept; you didn't want to know what would happen once Apollo saw the portrait you had made. He'd probably throw it in your face and stop talking to you for eternity; he could make that possible.

— Dear — he called, still looking at your own work, and with a surge of courage, you revealed it to his eyes.

Apolo smiled eagerly and sincerely. Not a hint of mockery showed on his face, and you felt envious of his self-control. It felt like those times when you showed your mother something you had done in kindergarden, yes, those same times when they praised your clearly null artistic talents.

— It's spectacular! — he exclaimed, and where his eye was supposed to be, the paint began to spill. Now it looked like his mascara had run.

— Liar! — you turned the portrait and smeared the paint to avoid more spillage. Apollo tried to stop you, but you had already spread the paint across the canvas, leaving his face stained with the tone.

— Hey, I still wanted it.

You sighed and put it aside.

— Yeah, sure.

Apollo looked at you over his lashes and reached out to take your hand.

— Do you want to see mine?

You nodded, despite your bad mood, you were curious about his. He turned it around, and as expected, it was beautiful, except it wasn't just you, but a painting of both of you doing exactly what you were doing at that moment: Both sitting face to face, canvases in your laps, and covered by the shade of the tree on a sunny spring day.

Your heart squeezed, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

— It's beautiful.

Apollo smiled and took advantage of your admiring his painting to take yours. Before you could snatch it away, he snapped his fingers, and it disappeared in a golden cloud.

— I hope you sent it to the Manhattan dumpsters.

— Now it's hanging in my palace room.

Your cheeks flushed, and you shook your head. He raised an eyebrow and conjured up a vision on his palm.

Above his bedhead was your painting, not only that. It was the first time you could see that everything you had given him was cherished in that place. The origami frog? That paper with a red lipstick kiss? Your commemorative shirt with the Hermes cabin symbol that you gave him after you won a race? Everything was there.

Your lip quivered; you were about to cry. Apollo already had teary eyes; seeing you like this gave him so much feeling.

— My love —you sobbed, and Apollo made the vision disappear, starting to raise his arms towards you.

— I love you, darling — and he drew you into him.

He was the god of the arts. He could see beauty in everything, especially if it was something you had done.

[writing-for-marvel]

Dear January

Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: While everyone else is celebrating the new year, all Bucky can think about is his resolution and you, though the two are inextricably linked.

Warnings: a little angst with discussions of Bucky’s past & references to him having PTSD, reader has empathy related powers, fluffy ending

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: banners by @vase-of-lilies, dividers by @newlips. Happy New Year everyone!! I hope 2023 is the year all your wishes and dreams come true 💜💜

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

Dear January, please let the new year be kind to me.

It was nearing midnight when Bucky strayed from the festivities, sneaking away from Steve’s overprotective, hovering presence while he was distracted with one of the new recruits Natasha was attempting to set him up with.

A crowded room with loud music and dancing couples might have been his scene in the 40’s, but was far from the solitary life he enjoyed in the 21st century. Steve had insisted that the party would be a good opportunity to get to know everyone outside of a work environment, and also confirmed you would be in attendance.

If Bucky were honest, that was the only reason he had chosen to come.

This was Steve’s world and Bucky was simply a visitor - if you could call someone who had been living in Stark tower with the rest of the Avengers for more than 6 months a ‘visitor’. But this was Steve’s home, Steve’s friends, Steve’s team, and as happy as Bucky was to see his best friend adapt to these modern times and surround himself with a community of people who trusted and respected him, Bucky still felt like an outsider.

No one trusted or respected him.

Well, with the exception of Steve himself, and perhaps you, the other newest member of the team. But Bucky wasn’t sure if your kindness stemmed from wanting to make a good impression as a newcomer, or if you genuinely liked his company.

He hoped it was the latter.

Bucky’s thoughts as he descended the tower to the small, concealed area in the basement he used to get away from the bustling upper level floors, was that this new year brought a fresh start, and that’s what he needed most right now. A clean slate. To hit the reset button on life.

He knew it was arbitrary, nothing would actually reset at the tick of midnight - his troubles of December 31st would still be his January anxieties; his murderous past would continue to follow him around like a shadow, something he couldn’t simply shake off and which only became darker the more light you shed on it.

But a change in calendar year could at least come with a change in mindset. That would be the first step in achieving his New Year’s resolution and to move on with his life.

Perhaps finally forgiving himself for the atrocities his body committed without permission from his mind would be the first step in feeling like he truly belonged.

“Hey, whatcha doing all the way down here?” Bucky recognised the voice immediately - of course it would be you to find him down here. You were the only person besides Steve to care enough to notice his absence.

“How did you find me?” Bucky chose not to turn around, he didn’t want you seeing the affliction on his face it seemed only you could detect, no matter how hard he tried to mask it.

“It’s not too difficult when you have a cloud of melancholy following you around.” There were times when Bucky relished your powers, being able to sense his emotions meant he didn’t have to find the right words to vividly express how he was feeling when he didn’t have the strength to describe just how miserable and despondent the weight on his chest felt on a particular day. Though, today was not one of those occasions. “What’s wrong?”

“This is technically my first new year since the 40’s, I wasn’t sure how I’d react to the fireworks. Loud sounds sometimes still…” He trailed off, embarrassed at how pathetic it sounded when he tried to articulate that loud sounds still triggered flashbacks to events of a war which occurred eighty years ago.

The concern brimming in your eyes in response to this almost made him feel guilty for not telling you the entire truth - yes, he was concerned that the sporadic, popping sounds of the fireworks would set off one of his PTSD episodes, but what he failed to mention was he was frustrated with himself at not being able to make conversation with the team upstairs as easily as he’d have hoped.

With you it came so easy. Expressing himself to you was effortless and didn’t carry the same nervous weight as it did with everyone else. But that only made his futile efforts earlier that night all the more infuriating and discouraging.

You reached out and took hold of his hand. Even though Bucky had known you for around six months, it still surprised him every time how gentle, almost affectionate, your touch was. It made him flinch, but not in the same way physical touch usually made him recoil. He liked the feeling, he was simply not used to it. Not used to being handled like something cared about, something treasured.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be with you through the whole thing.”

The basement of Stark Tower was the depot for all previously loved items that Tony refused to throw away, so with the items on hand, you set up a blanket fort between a few old chairs, loaded with comfy pillows and sought out some old card and board games to keep the two of you occupied.

When the clock suddenly struck twelve, and the new year commenced, Bucky could barely hear the crackling sound of the fireworks from the haven of your blanket fort, even with his enhanced hearing. You said a quick ‘happy new year!’, kissed him on his cheek and went straight back into the game of uno you were teaching him to play.

He was far too engrossed enjoying his time with you, and trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks, to pay any mind to what was occurring outside the four walls of the basement.

“Do you have a New Year’s resolution?” You asked as you played a draw two card. Bucky groaned in annoyance, though your cute chuckle in response to this was the real reason he had done it.

“Are you really meant to share resolutions? I thought that jinxed them.” Was what Bucky said to avoid saying his out loud.

“It’s not like a wish Buck, you can say a resolution aloud - it’s the work you put into them that makes them come true.” Bucky hesitated a moment but eventually gave in to your curious expression. He knew his aspirations would be safe with you.

“To try and be kinder to myself. Forgive myself for the deeds I was forced to commit and to remind myself what I did doesn’t define who I am now.” His statement sounded recited and even he wasn’t completely convinced by his words, so he knew you, who was privy to every inflection of emotion through his body, would not be satisfied with his answer. “That I’m not a killer anymore.” Bucky added feebly.

“James, you were never a killer.” He had seen the way his own teammates looked at him with utmost caution and terminal wariness every time he entered a room, as if they were all predicting his complete disintegration where he would revert to his brainwashed state and attempt to kill everyone in the tower. He was positive they considered him an executioner.

Bucky paused - you had never looked at him like that.

“I killed people, I’m pretty sure that makes me-”

“No it doesn’t, because that wasn’t you.” You interrupted. The ease at which these words rolled off your tongue and the steady conviction of your voice as you doubled down on your argument, prompted Bucky to think you actually believed them. “You do not hold any of the blame for what you were forced to do, you are a war veteran who fought for the freedoms of so many people, you gave your life so others could live theirs free of Hitler’s regime. You should be commended, not punished.”

“Thank you, for having that faith in me, I’m not sure I deserve it.”

“Yes you do. And I’ll always be around if you need the reminder.” You placed your second last remaining card down on the ever growing pile and claimed ‘uno’. Bucky was too preoccupied with the words you had said to continue focussing on the game.

“Always?”

“For as long as you want me to, Buck.”

“What if I wanted you around forever.” Bucky commented, chuckling slightly so you’d think he was half joking, even though he wasn’t. He bashfully broke eye contact to place a card on the central pile, but it didn’t stop his cheeks from heating like an ember.

“Then forever it is.”

Bucky was absolutely positive you were currently able to sense his feelings of deep affection and devotion for you as easy as noticing the warm sunlight on your skin during a cloudless summer day. But with the way you were earnestly smiling at him, and those kind eyes looking at him like he was all that mattered to you, he didn’t feel panicked that you knew how he felt. In fact, right here with you was the most serene he had felt since the 1940s.

As you placed your final card on the pile, a triumphant smile blossoming on your face as you won the game, he found he could not tear his eyes away from the magnificent sight.

Bucky realised in that moment he would do anything to see you smiling like that every day of his life.

The thought he actually had a remainder of a life to plan for frightened him, but if he would be able to spend it with you then he considered that a life worth living.

“Bucky?” You queried with wide eyes, scooting closer to him in the fort. His heart started pounding rapidly in his chest with anticipation - you wouldn’t have to have empathy powers to tell your proximity made him nervous.

“Mhmm.” He hummed, licking his lips as his gaze quickly averted to your own before returning to your yearning eyes, which were making the carefully constructed walls he used to keep the pain of rejection out, weaker by the millisecond.

“You know, it’s tradition to kiss at the beginning of the new year.” You stated with a contagious cheeky smile.

“I do remember that one.” He chuckled shyly, hopeful excitement buzzed in his stomach at the prospect of what was about to happen.

“I’d like for you to be my first kiss of the year.” You requested, and Bucky’s heart felt like it would explode in his chest it was beating so powerfully. “Also for you to be the only person I kiss all year, if that’s okay with you.” And with that he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

“Perfectly fine with me.”

You reached across the paltry space between you and tenderly placed your lips on his as your eyes fluttered shut. The kiss was tentative at first - you were allowing Bucky to set the pace, determine how deep he wanted to delve. It was Bucky’s first kiss since the 40’s, he was worried he would disappoint you, but when he felt your eager lips against his, it gave him the confidence to go all in.

Reaching across the space between you, Bucky pulled you into his lap, simultaneously silently asking permission to explore your mouth with his tongue, which you freely gave him.

Your bodies pressed together, your hands pulling you ever closer to him, was the unexpected, yet perfect way to start to the new year.

Dear January, thank you for already making this year better than my last.

[britany1997]

Ties That Bind

Part Two

Hope y’all enjoy part two of this series!!! @6lostgirl6 and I put equal work into this so please interact with both her post and mine equally! I couldn’t have done this without her!!! I loved working with my bestie on this it’s such a fun time for me:) Sixx is an awesome writing partner! (Don’t worry there will be a part 3)

Yandere Anakin Skywalker x Fem! Jedi Reader

Warnings: general yandere behavior, kidnapping/imprisonment, mentions of deaths

Part One dividers by @6lostgirl6

When you regained consciousness, your eyes began to flutter open. The momentary confusion was evident in your gaze, and the surroundings around you felt hazy. However, the darkness was something you easily recognized. Your brows furrowed in slight pain, and you felt a severe headache pounding against your skull. Your Jedi senses appeared dull, leaving you feeling a touch jaded. While your mind was trying to catch up, you laid there for a brief period of time, letting your fingertips feel the silk sheets of a strange bed.

Slowly, you sat up in bed, wincing slightly as the movement worsened the ache in your head. Your eyes finally began to adjust as you took in your surroundings. Your brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of your surroundings, scanning the room with a mixture of curiosity and bewilderment. The fog of unconsciousness slowly lifted, allowing you to regain a basic awareness of your immediate environment. It was dark; the walls and floor were painted black, which matched the furniture within, and the blinds of the window shielded the outside world. The room looked extravagant yet simple, which reminded you of your home back in the temple-

The temple. 

There was a subtle shift in your facial expression—a flicker of recognition—as your mind grappled with a dark realization. Your eyes widened as you proceeded to throw off the sheets, trying to hastily spring from the strange bed. You yelped when you almost stumbled, and your legs were tangled in the sheets due to haste. Your mind was in shambles as you continued your way to the window, blocking out any source of light. Despite your headache and the panic surging through you, you pressed the button on the wall to remove the blinds. You couldn't help but gasp at the sight, wishing that you had stayed unconscious. 

You were surrounded by land that had been burned by fire, molten from lava, and much more. This gave you the impression that you were in an inferno or inside a volcano that destroyed everything around it. There are many tales of a planet like this that you have heard over the years.

Mustafar. 

Your heart began to race as your mind whirled. ‘No, no, no,’ you repeated to yourself over and over again. You begged to be awoken from your slumber, surely this could be nothing but a bad dream.

But as much as you pleaded, you would never wake. Your nightmares had turned to reality.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you fought a losing battle to stay calm. You fell against the door, pounding it with your fists and sobbing as you called for Anakin. 

When no one answered your pleas, and the door remained firmly shut, you pressed your back against it and slid down. With your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, you wept.

You wept for all the lives lost in the temple massacre as every face you would never see again passed through your memory. You wept for Anakin and whatever sickness had overtaken him to act with such carelessness for life. But most of all, you wept for yourself.

What had you done wrong? What atrocity had you committed to be deserving of such a harsh fate? 

You were a prisoner who’d committed no crime, and you fought to resign yourself to an unknown future. You were at the mercy of a man you’d once thought more virtuous than any other. He’d taken everything from you.

After a few hours of weeping, you began to hear the distinct sounds of approaching footsteps from the hallway, heading towards your room. Your mind switched into defensive mode, quickly bringing yourself to your feet and facing the closed metal door. Your heart pounded against your chest, with anxiety and adrenaline rushing through your veins. You feared not what you would see on the other side.

But rather who. 

It was at this point that the footsteps halted in front of the metal door, after which it automatically opened. The sliding of the door revealed the last person you had ever wanted to see, as your heart would no longer be able to withstand it. You couldn't bear to see him.

Anakin stood in the doorway, dressed in his previous robes. Your eyes darted over the fabric, looking for any hints of blood, that horrific shade of red that used to appear across the floor of the temple and in the cauterized wounds of your fellow Jedi. However, those hints were nonexistent, and you felt sick to realize that there was a glimmer of relief you possessed within. Perhaps he didn’t want to upset you more. 

He moved towards you, kneeling to your level, his hand outstretched to cup your cheek. You recoiled out of instinct, turning your head to avoid the caress of your captor.

A look of pain crossed Anakin’s face before he quickly masked it. This was what he’d been afraid of. He’d let the whole galaxy think he was cruel, but not you. He’d never hurt you. He loved you. Why couldn’t you understand that?

“My love…” Anakin began, but you cut him off with a humorless laugh.

“Love?” you scoffed, “is that what this is to you?”

You turned to meet his gaze and your heart clenched inside your chest. His eyes looked into yours with longing and desperation. But their yellow tone confirmed your fears and reminded you of what he was. He was not your Anakin, not anymore.

“This is not love,” you whispered, “love should never come at such a high and terrible price.”

Though he hid it well, frustration ran through Anakin. He had to make you see.

He caught your wrist in his hand and brought it to his chest, holding your palm over his heart. You gasped and tried to pull back, but he would never let you go.

“Please listen,” he begged.

You sighed, if only to understand why he had done what he’d done, you would listen.

“I’ve spent my whole life loving you,” he confessed, “I couldn’t let some code keep us apart my love. You are my world, my whole universe, without you there is no reason to breathe. I could not stand another night pretending that I don’t want you, that I don’t need you. I’d sooner destroy every planet than live only loving you from a distance. I couldn’t keep denying what was true in my heart.” His grip tightened gently on your hand that was still pressed to his chest. 

“I would do anything for you baby,” he leaned forward until his lips were pressed to the shell of your ear, “I already have.”

Your eyes brimmed with tears once more; the sick affection lacing his words made your heart skip a beat, and if the situation had been different, you would have returned his passion. However, the haunting images of those people who’d once walked among you, now dead in the hallways, couldn’t leave your thoughts. 

“Anakin…” You began, your tears threatening to fall down your face once more as your body became rigid from the way his forehead pressed against your temple, his lips brushing against your skin. “You killed innocent people, our people; I would have never agreed to this!” 

You pulled away from him slightly, making Anakin reluctantly follow suit as your eyes met once more, his yellow irises seeming to pierce your entire being. His grip on your hand pressed against his chest was strong, refusing the notion of losing your sacred touch. 

“I know you wouldn’t, my love,” He replied, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “You’re so sweet and innocent, but that’s why I had to take you baby, don’t you understand?” Anakin brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, “every night I’d be plagued by visions of your corpse my love, I needed to protect you but the high council never would have let us be together. I did this for you. I refuse to lose you over some code; I’ll destroy the entire galaxy if it means making you mine and safe.” 

His golden gaze darkened for a moment, which you almost didn’t catch. The idea of his visions coming true caused a sick feeling that threatened to overtake him. 

“You’ll understand that one day.” He concluded. 

Your jaw dropped. You were sure Anakin had had his fair share of girls falling at his feet, and maybe one of them would have envied your position.

But you were a Jedi Knight. You were once a youngling, chosen to be a Padawan, eventually advancing to your station now. You’d earned your place alongside Anakin and all those who had fought to maintain order and justice for the peace and freedom of the galaxy.

You may be sweet, but you were not innocent, and you certainly didn’t need anyone else’s protection.

The fear that had crept into your heart was replaced by a burning anger. It wasn’t up to anyone but yourself to decide what was best for you. Anakin wasn’t the master of your fate, you were.

“Anakin,” you began, maintaining your calm demeanor so as not to upset your captor, “you have to let me go. Nothing will hurt me Ani, I’m going to be fine, but you must atone for your crimes.”

You gathered your courage, “what you did was wrong, no matter if you think you did it for the right reasons. You have to turn yourself in, and you have to let me go.”

Anakin’s eyes widened, his heart racing from the words he was hearing fall from your precious lips. This wasn’t what he was expecting at all. In his mind, he thought you would have been happy for what he did—fall into his arms and return his feelings. He didn’t expect you to retaliate and say such horrible things. You’ve never spoken against him before, ever. 

“Turn myself in?” He repeated as his eye gave a subtle twitch, his yellow eyes darkening as he tried to swallow his anger. “Don’t you turn against me now; nothing is going to harm you because I’m here, without the code getting in my way. You're safe because of me. You would do well to remember that, my love.” 

"No Anakin..." You whispered, pulling yourself out of his grasp once more, the storm in your eyes growing stronger yet the breaking of your heart was undeniable. "I'm imprisoned by a monster and I would rather die than return your feelings." 

"W-What?" He whispered, feeling like his heart was being ripped from his chest. It was like he could barely breathe. as panic began to course through him for the first time in a long while.  "Don't you ever say that to me."

"I love you, my sweet girl..." Anakin continued, trying to step closer to you but you continued backing away. He felt like he could die at this moment, being refused your affection and love. "I know you feel the same way..." 

"I did once..." You answered, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing your arms, ignoring the tears threatening to escape you once more. "But I will never love a monster, the Anakin I loved is gone."

Anakin fought to keep tears from rolling down his cheeks, your words cut deeper than any swipe of a lightsaber he’d ever received. You were his everything, yet here you were, treating him as if he were nothing.

“Then the Anakin you loved was a lie,” he whispered, “I am who I’ve always been.”

He grasped your wrist firmly, careful not to hurt you but desperate to remind you that he was a powerful man. “All I want,” he ran a hand down your cheek causing you to flinch away, making his heart clench, “all I’ve ever wanted…was you.”

You pulled your wrist from his grasp. He sighed as he let you. “Now that I have you, I’m not letting you go, not ever.” 

You lip quivered as you fought back tears of your own. 

“I’ll be back when you’ve learned to accept that,” he told you, his voice breaking. The door closed behind him, sealing you into your room that might as well have been a cell.

“No! Wait!” you rushed to pound on the door but to no avail.

“Let me go Anakin,” you sobbed, “you have to let me go. Please, please let me go.” Your body shook and you choked as your tears flowed, forming a puddle on the ground.

Anakin leaned on the other side of the sealed door, head in his hands as his own tears fell. He hated to hear you so upset. He longed to pull you into his lap and wrap his arms around your cute, tiny frame. He imagined how he’d hum to you and dry your tears as he rocked you back and forth. 

Yet he knew that you’d only reject his comforting embrace. He wept, your desperate cries too much for him to bear. He’d do anything for your love. 

Anything but let you go.

Taglist❤️:

@misslavenderlady @ghoulgeousimmaculate @pixielostboy @anna1306 @kurt-nightcrawler @arenpath @bloodywickedvamp @vampirefilmlover @dwaynesluscioushair @dwaynedelight @arbesa-mind @johnnyringodarlin @flower-crowned-lady @lostboys1987girl @rynsfandomsfun @ria-coolgirl @walmartfairy69 @bitchyexpertprincess @warrior-616 @f4iryfxies

[seiya-starsniper]

❛ it would have been better to die. ❜

WHOO BOY HERE WE GO KRIS, have some midnight angst cw: mentions of torture, blood mention

--------------------------------------- Dream cradles Hob’s broken body in his arms. It is his fault this has happened. The spell Roderick Burgess performed had been meant to capture an Endless, had meant to capture Death, or even Dream himself, but instead, the trap took hold of his oldest friend. 

His friend. How foolish it is now, to realize he cares so much for Hob Gadling, while the man bleeds out on the Burgess’s basement floor.

He could have prevented this, Dream thinks. He could have stopped this as it happened, if only he’d thought to pay attention.

But Dream’s arrogance has cost him once more. After their fight in 1889, Dream had withheld himself from Hob’s dreams, had not even bothered to check to see that the immortal still visited his realm night to night. Which of course, he hadn’t after his capture in 1916. But Dream had washed himself of Hob by then, had resolved he would not address the matter on their next meeting, that a hundred years of silence would be enough to relieve Hob of his foolish notion to consider them friends. 

And then, Hob did not appear in 1989. 

Dream had thought himself stood up. He raged once returned to his realm from the Waking World, feeling every bit the fool for waiting. The Dreaming was clouded with storms and fire for days after, and not even Lucienne would try to go near him in the throne room.

It was only when, in his anger, Dream sent a nightmare to haunt Hob’s dreams that he realized something was amiss.

The nightmare had returned, shaking and terrified, and reported it had been unable to perform its function. Because Hob Gadling had not been seen in the realm in almost 70 years. 

Dream had set out to find Hob then. Had hired the services of one Johanna Constantine, who like her ancestors before her, performed her job brilliantly and had triangulated Hob’s location within days. 

“I don’t like this,” Johanna had said as they descended the stairs of the Burgess estate together. “Something’s not right. Something smells wrong here.”

She was right. 

Roderick Burgess and his followers had all desired one thing: immortality. And what better way to gain immortality, they thought, with their stupid, simple human minds, than to cut it out of another immortal?

Dream glances at the unconscious bodies of the Order of Ancient Mysteries, and resolves to curse them with all manner of nightmare, waking and dreaming. They will never know peace for the rest of their pathetic short lives. 

But then Hob is gasping in his arms, finally conscious, and Dream shoves all thoughts of revenge to the back of his mind as he tries to stall the bleeding. 

“You are safe now, Hob Gadling,” Dream murmurs, trying to be as quiet and gentle as possible. “Your captors have been punished for their hubris,” he promises. 

Hob coughs, and blood gurgles from his mouth. Dream wipes it with his sleeve, willing the fluid to disappear as quickly as it appeared. He inhales as deeply as his lungs finally regain their function, and it is only then that he truly sees Dream.

“It would have been better to die,” Hob rasps, his vocal chords hoarse from disuse, “than live as I did, chained down here for so long.”

Dream stutters and despite himself, his whole body begins to shake. He cannot believe what he is hearing. Hob has not once wished for his sister’s gift in all the centuries they have met with one another, had not even given the slightest inclination that he had grown weary of living. Even at his lowest point in 1689, destitute and with no prospects, Hob’s expression had shone with endless hope and vitality for life.

Now there is no hope left in Hob’s eyes. 

Could Dream let him go like this? When he had just realized how much Hob means to him? How much he loves him? Was there nothing he could do to convince Hob to continue, despite the unforgivable atrocities committed against his person?

But that has never been Dream’s choice to make.

“So do you no longer wish to live?” Dream asks, voice steady, even as his heart is breaking.

Hob stares up at Dream, eyes resolute, and opens his mouth to speak.

Angst Prompts

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

how do you keep your faith even while such horrific things are going on in palestine? i've been a christian all my life and i understand that the question of why god allows suffering is one that people have always been asking, that we can never really know the answer to, but it's just so hard for me to see things like this, all of these innocent people being terrorized and murdered in such evil ways, and understand why god can't stop it from happening. in church we pray for both israel and palestine and it feels so pointless, and just makes me frustrated that i can't actually do anything to stop this. especially knowing that even bethlehem, the place of jesus's birth and home to many palestinian christians, is being attacked and churches are being bombed. it seems pretty clear that the people committing these atrocities are never going to open their hearts and stop, and the world leaders who would have the power to make them stop either don't care or directly support them. i do not want to believe that god doesn't exist, or that god would just sit by and watch all of this happen if it were possible to stop it, but it's such a struggle at times like this. i feel like it shouldn't be and like i should've had this figured out by now. it's okay if you don't answer this, i just love your blog and have learned a lot from it over the years, and am incredibly saddened by the state of the world right now.

Hey there, anon. I feel with you and stand with you in your struggle. I also gently suggest you work on letting go of the sense that you "should" have this figured out by now. Firstly because learning to release myself from "shoulds" is something my therapist taught me and it's been super helpful for showing myself love; secondly because I believe it is deeply, deeply faithful to ask these questions, to demand to know where God is in the face of evil — not just once, but continuously across our lives.

If at any point we think we have it "all figured out," if we think we've reached a fully satisfying solution to the problem of how a good God could "let" evil things happen, we're more likely to be numbed by fatalism or become complacent in the face of injustice. As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (may his memory be a blessing) put it when asked why God lets bad things happen to good people,

“God does not want us to understand, because if we ever understood, we would be forced to accept that bad things happen to good people, and God does not want us to accept those bad things. He wants us not to understand, so that we will fight against the bad and the injustices of this world, and that is why there is no answer to that question.”

Ask the questions. Bring all that you feel — your grief, your confusion, your frustration, your doubt, your fear — to God. Study and pray and converse with others.

And while you're doing all that, and accepting that it'll be a lifelong exploration, act.

Let your love, your words, your actions be the divine response to injustice — because for whatever mysterious reason, God chooses to act through us, through all who follow Their call to "do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly" (Micah 6:8).

___

So yeah, I can't tell you why God doesn't just jump in and stop the evil, why God seems to limit Their own power to intervene (or even to lack that power to begin with), why God respects our free will even when we misuse it to such great harm (though you can see the bottom of this post for places to explore all those questions).

But I can tell you where I believe God is in the midst of all the questions, all the loss, all the suffering — and that's not on some lofty throne indifferently observing our pain; God is right there in the midst of that pain.

Where is God in the face of hate, violence, death? God is co-suffering with us, shouldering the burden with us.

In Exodus 3:7, God says They don't only see the enslaved Hebrews' misery, don't only hear their cries, but that They know the people's suffering — an intimate knowing, as of one who experiences it themself.

In Matthew 25, Jesus tells us that when humanity fails to welcome the stranger, visit the prisoner, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, comfort the oppressed, we fail to do those things for him — for he identifies so intimately with all whom the world calls "least" that he is one with each and every one of them.

So I don't know why God doesn't just fix everything, dammit! — it's the first question I'll be asking Xir when I die, because wtf!!

But I do believe, and I do draw some comfort knowing, that God does not leave us to suffer alone. God is one with the oppressed; God shows ultimate solidarity to the oppressed; and God acts with each of us who act for and with and as the oppressed.

And the good news in the midst in this horror is that there are things that all of us can be doing to act in solidarity with the oppressed!

Our efforts truly are making a difference. Politicians and whole governments across the globe have been startled by the resistance to pro-Israeli propaganda and solidarity with Palestine. The change is slow, but our protests are making an impact. Palestinians have been asking that we keep protesting, boycotting, educating, spreading the word. Because it is helping, slowly but surely.

As long as Palestinians refuse to give in to despair, we too must continue to fight. Palestine will be free. We will not stand silent as genocide occurs.

Boycott as many of the companies named by BDS as you can. Notice that they're focusing on a narrower, more targeted group of companies than some of the enormous lists people keep sharing — that's to help us avoid becoming overwhelmed! So boycott what you can from their list; these are the companies directly contributing to Israel's violence. And spread their list to anyone you can.

If you live in a country with a government that has yet to join the call for a ceasefire — and especially if you, like me here in the US, live in a country that is actively funding/otherwise supporting Israel's violence — call or email your representatives to demand a ceasefire.

Resistbot can help make that easy, in the US at least.

Educate yourself about the history of Palestine and Israel. It's important so that you can recognize lies and propaganda, and also so you can speak knowledgeably about the issue with others. It's also important because understanding and simply bearing witness are two big things Palestinians ask of us. You don't need to know everything, but know enough to bear witness, to remember the loss, and to debunk bullshit when you see it.

Here are some places you can get educated — link to free ebooks; article on current events; article with current perspectives from Gaza; and I've been reblogging news & resources as I see them over on @a-queer-seminarian

Post about what Gaza is going through on social media!! Don't let the fight die down! Talk about it with friends or others you think might be swayed to join the fight if they had the information that most media stations are failing to report on.

Stand up against Islamophobia in all forms.

Stand up against antisemitism in all forms. As Christians, this includes recognizing and uprooting supersessionism in our biblical interpretation, our liturgy, our hymns, etc. It also means learning about Christian Zionism.

One of Israel's primary arguments for the "necessity" of its oppression of Palestine is that Israel is necessary because nowhere else on earth is safe for Jews. They're right that nowhere else is safe for Jews; but they're wrong that Israel is safe for Jews — an settler-colonialist state, a war zone, a state that requires every civilian to serve some time in the military, is not safe for Jews either. But as long as they can point to the antisemitism rampant across the globe, they can use that as an argument. So to counter Israel, and much more importantly to stand in solidarity with Jewish people across the world, don't let antisemitism go unchecked.

Join in protests in your area. Follow Jewish Voices for Peace or Jews Against White Supremacy for info on such events.

Link to places to offer fin.ancial support

Want more ways to act? Check out https://www.palestineaction.org/

___

There is no easy answer to the question of suffering — but even so, it can be helpful to explore it deeper, to examine what conclusions others have drawn over the eras. If you want some resources for your wrestling, here are some:

This post goes into the basics of theodicy, the "the intellectual effort to jerry-rig three mutually exclusive terms into harmony: divine power, goodness, and the experiences of evil"

Then there's my #theodicy tag where I put all posts / links about this issue

I also have a long-ass YouTube video diving deep into "the problem of suffering"!

___

I hope this response brings you comfort and courage, friend. Don't be afraid of questions, of grief, of concern — let them galvanize you for the struggle. Solidarity forever <3