#and also the HUNDREDS OF OTHER PRISONERS WHAT THE FUCK

[jm-ethereal33]

⚠️ Explicit terms are used below ⚠️

I don't know why something from a while ago happened to cross my other blog @love-is-your-hand-in-mine , but it did and I feel like it's a good time to bring these issues up- that are still relevant to this day and they have followed Jimin into the military with Jungkook.

The hate towards Jimin is one of the reasons they enlisted together, since it was very openly suggested that Jungkook would protect him.

It was by some stroke of luck, thanks to the universe stepping in- that their papers were selected and they were nominated to be able to leave together right before their time was up.

This ⬇️ is something from one of my followers anonymous "asks" that I saw on my newsfeed this morning and they will also remain anonymous for obvious reasons.

This is a very alarming issue and it goes to show how toxic most of the community really is, because HUNDREDS of people participated in sending Jimin death threats and various other things, including women trying to claim they would show up to the airports with guns and harm him.

Once it was announced they would be traveling together AFTER the announcement was made about their service date- the hate only fucking grew and it's easily the most hate that Jimin has ever had to endure.

Jungkook and Jimin went dead silent on social media and they didn't really resurface again, until the live they did with Namjoon and Taehyung.

At the bottom of their "ask" that I shared a little bit from up above- my follower says that Jimin isn't "miserable" over the antis and their behavior, when in fact yes he is.

Just because you don't see it publicly, doesn't mean it's not happening.

Based on Jimin's sensitive personality and the severity of the issues at hand, it most definitely is- but the difference is how he has Jungkook by his side.

So he doesn't need to endure it alone and it makes it easier for him.

▪︎

Anyone who thinks the hate from this time isn't a big deal, needs to learn a thing or two about the country they live in- because the fact that the antis knew RIGHT where to hit Jimin- shows how most of them were in fact from Asia.

Because of the laws and such surrounding their military service and the government in general over there.

It's VERY different as opposed to other countries like America or Canada and Jimin could have literally been sent to prison over the allegations and accusations they were sending DIRECTLY to the government and military themselves.

He could have been facing prison time or worse- they could have killed him, due to how homophobic The Republic Of Korea really is.

You guys seriously have no idea how extreme these countries are, because you're not willing to learn anything aside from those fantasies you have in your head about these places.

▪︎

After enlisting together, MinKook will come back so much stronger than before though and all of these "children" that are taking tantrums will be silenced.

You're not allowed to speak on something that has nothing to do with you, so your tantrums were ignored and you're not happy with that- are you?

That's all it was- they made it known publicly that they were going to choose to grow together for the next 18 months and you panicked, because Jungkook would be with someone you don't approve of.

Jimin could have backed out and given in to the hate, but he chose Jungkook through and through and no amount of hate you give him will change what they have.

Love always wins 🌈

#bts #bts army #bts jimin #jimin #jimin bangtan #jimin bts #jimin icons #jimin is beautiful #jimin park #jiminie #jimin gifs #park jimin #jimin pics #bts park jimin #bts pics #bts photos #jimin and jungkook #jeon jungkook #jikook #minkook #kookmin #jk #bts bangtan boys #bts jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkoooook #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungguk #jeon jk

[nerdpoe]

Superboy wakes up in a prison. In the cell, sitting across from him, there's a teen that looks like another offshoot clone of Clark.

He learns in bits and pieces that he's been captures by a shadow government organization hellbent on ridding the world of anyone "ecto-contaminated", or anyone who has ever been dead.

Since he'd died before, even though he came back, he set off their sensors.

He doesn't remember how he got caught, doesn't remember what he was doing prior, but the walls are made of a weird material that glows green and cancels out his powers. It also doesn't hurt him.

Diluted kryptonite? He'll have to steal some and give it to Tim.

According to the kid, they've been forcibly detained to "serve their sentence for illegal immigration from the Realm of the Dead to the Realm of the Living" by way of routinely allowing themselves to be subjected to medical procedures. They are always being watched, they aren't the only ones captive, that apparently his entire high school had been condemned to it as well as some literal ghosts, and if he struggles then they won't give him the mercy of sedation while they do their experiments.

And Kon can't use his power to escape, or free this kid, or free any of the other prisoners. It's the worst case scenario.

Thank fuck he's best friends with a paranoid Bat that might have more contingencies than the Big Bat Himself.

Kon activates the only subdermal tracker he'd allowed Tim to place under his skin, and settles down to wait.

A prison of this design, but more high tech and with less privacy. Apparently the idea behind it was that you couldn't see the guards, but they could see you, and the lights would move at random to make you think they were paying attention all the time.

So psychological torture on top of imprisonment.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #phanfic #story prompt #pow tw #prisoner tw #prison tw #trapped tw #torture tw #medical malpractice tw #psychological distress tw #psychological torture tw #imprisonment tw #Young Justice making a teamup to break their friend out #and also the HUNDREDS OF OTHER PRISONERS WHAT THE FUCK #you can bet ur butt the Justice League will be hearing out this violation of meta and human rights #ecto shielding has the same power dampening effect as kryptonite but none of the pain

[astraystayyh]

Israel doesn't want to repopulate Gaza, you loveable dummy

Seriously, find one Israeli on this site who'll say otherwise. And no, quoting Ben Gvir doesn't count (assuming you even know who that is) anymore than quoting, say, Rudy Giuliani would count for anything, even though he supposedly spoke for the president of the USA for a time.

Hamas has 136 hostages. Including women, and actual literal babies, assuming they're still alive, that is. This could all have ended weeks ago if they'd fucking returned them. Israeli society would physically march on Benjamin Netanyahu's home and remove him in a coup if the hostages were returned tonight. But as long as they have Israeli people, and are unwilling to negotiate their return, that's an ongoing war crime. Is Israel evil for being a bull in a China shop trying to get back a "mere" 136 innocent civilians? Maybe. But Hamas started this and they can end it, they just don't want to. Please, justify that.

Hello, since you asked for one Israeli, here, I'll give you multiple statements:

Hundreds of activists at an Ashdod gathering in late November called for the reestablishing of Jewish settlements. “Let it be known that you support the appeal to renew Jewish settlement throughout all of the Gaza Strip. The nation is waiting for you”— Yossi Dagan, head of the Samaria Regional Council.

Israel “should fully occupy the Gaza Strip”— Heritage Minister Amichai Eliyahu, of the far-right Otzma Yehudit party.

An Israeli real estate firm pushes to build settlements for Israelis in Gaza. “Wake up, a beach house is not a dream” reads the ad.

Israeli Knesset member Limor Son Har Melech posted a video of herself in a boat with other settlers off the coast of Gaza. “Settlement in every part of the Gaza Strip … A large, extensive settlement without fear, without hesitation, without humiliation. This land is the land that the creator of the world gave to us.”

Israeli Settler, Daniella Weiss says Palestinians who live in Gaza, have no right to stay in Gaza.

An Israeli soldier saying that Israelis should start “investing” in Khan Younis.

Also why would the words of Ben Gvir not count? He is an elected minister, his words hold weight and they expose Israel’s clear intent to make Gaza inhabitable for Palestinians so that Israelis could settle in there— by destroying the infrastructures, making the health system collapse entirely, bombing entire residential neighborhood, Israel is trying to ensure that Palestinians wouldn't be able to return back to their land, because there is nothing livable left there.

And I'm glad you bring up all of this ending if the hostages were returned— Hamas tried to strike up a deal for the return of ALL the hostages, in exchange of the release of all Palestinian prisoners. Israel refused. You know why? Because this has never been about hostages and their safety for Israel.

There is a reason why Israel shot its own hostages when it mistook them for Palestinian civilians, waving a white cloth. There is a reason why the IDF called to shoot indiscriminately on Oct. 7, knowing that it could kill some of the hostages too. Because Israel wants to kill Palestinians, to "thin out its population" (or maybe we shouldn't take into account the says and actions of Netanyahu too ://). This is why it targets schools and mosques and hospitals and ambulances and refugee camps. Israel knows that if it does get all its hostages back, then there would be nothing to “justify” its genocide in Gaza (although, as UN Secretary-General said : "Nothing can justify the collective punishment of the Palestinian people. The humanitarian situation in Gaza is beyond words")

Israel is the only reason why the hostages aren't fred yet. THEY are unwilling to negotiate the return because they don't want to stop this genocide. What good is a five days ceasefire only for the bombings to return? Do you even realize how psychologically traumatizing it is to have a countdown of when your massacre would resume? The only acceptable deal is for Israel to establish a permanent ceasefire, something that it refuses to do. The only one to blame is Israel.

And you say Israelis would instigate a coup to oust Netanyahu, that's nice, then what? Will you return the land to its rightful people? Will you give back Palestinians their rights unequivocally? Will you call for the dismantlement of Israel that was built on massacres? The reason why Israelis are angry at Netanyahu is rooted in the unresolved hostage situation. Just because you don't support Netanyahu doesn't mean that you aren't a zionist who finds the murder of more than twenty thousands Palestinians justifiable. A young girl had her leg amputated with no anesthesia on the kitchen counter of her home and you talk about “Israel being a bull in a China shop”? You consider the targeted attacks on civilians as careless actions by Israel? It actually astonishes me how inhumane some of you can be.

And here is what Dr. Refaat, who was targeted and murdered by the IDF btw, had to say about this matter:

Whether it's Netanyahu or someone else, it does not matter because Israel as a whole is an occupation, one built on the bloodshed of palestinians.

And it is funny how you choose to distort history whichever way you like it, to regard October 7th as an isolated instance that happened out of the blue. Hamas didn't start anything, Hamas was created in response to the indiscriminate and careless shooting of palestinian civilians in the first Intifada, that was decades ago. October 7th was a resistance to an ongoing colonization, Israel started this when it displaced and murdered palestinians on 1948. None of this would've happened if Israel did not colonize Palestine. It has been 100 days of this ongoing genocide, wake up and stop deluding yourself into a reality where Israel is the victim.

#dismissing Ben Gvir's statements #(yes i know who it is thank you for your concern) #then diluting this genocide into a mere matter of “hamas should return the hostages” #it must feel nice to change up the narrative so you'd be able to sleep nicely at night #and not take into account the statements that disturb you #but thanks for thinking im loveable! you are right on that point #maybe there is still hope left for you then #free palestine #palestine #gaza #free gaza

[normspellsman]

She Is Mine

part one | part two

pairing: neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader

genre: violence, bit of angst + fluff, & comfort

word count: 2.7k+

warning(s): death threats, mentions of death + injuries + blood, reader thinking she’s going to die + accepts it, neteyam going apeshit on an avatar soldier, reader being stabbed, mentions of brutal killings / violence, reader crying, & a bit of dark!neteyam

taglist: @aonungsmate @dearstell @optimisticblazetrash @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @liyahsocorro @amortencjja @universal-s1ut @goodiesinthecloset21 @chshshhshshshshshshshs @minkyungseokie

word bank: mawey — calm; calm down, eywa / the great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, ikran — winged creature used for flying + hunting, yawne — beloved, & yawntutsyip — darling; little darling

note: literally wrote this within two to three hours so it might not be that great, so bare with me. hope you guys liked it & let me know if i should do something similar to this with lo’ak <3

It was stupid really.

When you think back on it, it was definitely stupid to agree to tag along with Lo’ak and the rest to wherever the hell they were planning on going. But you could not say no to Tuk when she asked you to come with them. She was your weakness and used it to her advantage.

You’d been silently weaving a new armband for your boyfriend, Neteyam, when his youngest sister had approached you, hands interlocked behind her back and the all too familiar ‘innocent’ look plastered on her face. You knew that whatever she was thinking of saying or asking you would end up in you ultimately agreeing to it, most likely getting you in trouble with your lover.

“Join me and Kiri to the mountains with Lo’ak. Pretty please?” She had asked, pouting and widening her amber eyes up at you as she gently swayed from side to side.

You gave in immediately.

It was sad how fast the youngest Sully got you to cave in so quickly. You had restraint with the others, even Neteyam, but had none whatsoever when it came to Tuktirey. You had such a soft spot for her and Tuk took advantage of it every time.

Should’ve never said yes, you grumble to yourself inside your head, head shaking to yourself as you struggled against the restraints the RDA soldiers had put you in upon catching you all when you attempted to leave the scene you weren’t supposed to be at.

Jake instilled it into you guys so many times to never get close to the abandoned shack. You needed asked why. It was something that Jake wasn’t going to argue about and made it very clear after his youngest son tried to pry the answer out of him the first time he mentioned it. Should’ve listened to Jake.

Everything went by so fast, you had barely had time to process what was going on before you were shackled in handcuffs and essentially held prisoner by RDA Avatars.

“Who is she?” A deep voice asked, pulling you out of your seething thoughts.

Quaritch had a good estimate on who was who in the little rag tag group he caught. The five fingered teens one-hundred-percent belonged to Jake Sully while the human boy was a result of the Corporals past. So, that left you and Tuk. He would give it a fifty-fifty chance that the both of you were also Jake’s kids. Man, he and the Missus sure was busy, he thinks to himself, smirking at the thought.

By the only Na’vi boys reaction, Quaritch could tell that you were something else to the kid. A girlfriend perhaps?, he thinks, best friend?.

Lo’ak knew he was fucked the minute Tuk managed to convince you to join in on their little ‘adventure’. Neteyam continuously told him to look out for you whenever he left to go hunt or do whatever their parents told him to do, threatening bodily harm and death if he didn’t obey. He had a bad feeling about the whole thing but regardless of it, still continued on with his plan. Neteyam was so going to kill him.

“Our sister,” Lo’ak muttered, the soldier behind him still had a tight grip on his queue, tightening it before he answered.

Everyone on the scene could tell that Lo’ak was lying. It was evident. The boy's ears were pinned back, mostly in pain, and his tail fell limp beside him as it gently curled in on itself.

Bingo, Quaritch thought to himself, more leverage.

“Hmm, I think you’re lying, boy,” the Corporal starts, inching closer to Lo’ak, “And do you know what I do to liars?” he asked.

You gulped at the man’s words. You could only assume his following answer would entail torture or death. You all were totally fucked either way.

Lo’ak refused to answer the man’s question, making Quaritch smirk even more.

“I punish them,” he answered, a sick and disturbing glint in his eyes as he stared down Jake Sully’s second son.

Anxiety spiked in all of our systems, making you struggle further in the soldier's grasp.

“Don’t hurt him,” you and Kiri pleaded, the soldiers behind you yanking back on your braided queue, making you cry out in pain.

Quaritch tsked at your response, turning towards you as he stalked towards your figure. “I’m not going to hurt him, sweetheart. Just you,” he finalized, pulling out a knife that was sheathed in its carrier on his hip.

You and everyone else began to protest at his words.

“(Y/N)! No!” Lo’ak cried out, trying to inch closer towards you to protect you but was pulled back by a soldier, hissing out in pain and frustration.

Tuk began to cry as she saw the knife inch towards your face before it dipped down to your neck.

“You fucking asshole!” Spider yelled out, struggling in the grips of the two Avatar soldiers holding him, surprisingly making them struggle to keep him in their grasps in return.

Kiri could only close her eyes in response, not wanting to see you get hurt in front of her.

You stopped at the contact the cold knife made with your warm skin, the temperature of it making you lightly flinch back at it. Your heartbeat rose increasingly within the confines of your chest, hammering against the bone. Holy shit, you thought, this is how I’m going to die.

As you looked around and saw your friends' reactions, you accepted your fate. You accepted that you were going to be murdered in front of them. You could only hope that your death would help the Sullys and Spider escape from the soldiers and Quaritch safely and unharmed. You also hoped that it was going to be a quick death. You didn’t want them to see you suffer.

It’s okay, be calm. Don’t fight back, it’ll only make it worse. Mawey. Eywa, please ensure the safe return of the Sully’s and Spider. And make sure that Neteyam finds only happiness after this, you prayed.

Quaritch had taken your queue from the soldiers grasp behind you, granting you momentary relief from the tight hold only to be replaced with an even harsher grip. You hissed out at the returning pain.

“Now, listen here boy,” he starts, pointing the clean knife at Lo’ak, making him look at him, “I want ‘ya to contact your Father and tell him that if he isn’t here after the sun sets, girly over here,” he gestures to you with the knife in hand, “Is going to be gutted and strung up on the tree line as a little surprise for your Daddy. Am I clear?”.

His words makes Tuk cry even harder, making the soldier behind her give up on her hold on the girls queue and instead hold her up by her arms.

Lo’ak reluctantly nodded at his words, swallowing down the gathering spit in his mouth. His eyes jumped from Spider to Quaritch to you, then to Kiri and Tuk. He was dreading the moment his parents and Neteyam arrived, knowing that regardless of how much they cooperate, Quaritch is going to do whatever he wants to even if that includes staying true to his words of harming you.

———

The three were close to nearing the old abandoned shack when Lo’ak called in again, the line going static for a second before he spoke up.

“Quaritch is giving you until after sunset to arrive,” he shakingly starts, anxiety clearly evident in his tone as he speaks, “Or…or he’ll gut (Y/N) and string her up as a welcome gift for you.”.

Neteyam nearly crashes into a tree when he hears his brother's words.

Quaritch was threatening the life of you, his mate, in hopes of riling up Jake. Well, it was working, except it was Neteyam who was riled up and not his Father.

All the boy could see was red as the three of them silently continued their flight towards your destination after Jake told Lo’ak that they were on their way and that the message was clearly received.

Rage boiled up inside of Neteyam’s body, causing him to slightly shake from the emotion atop his ikran. He was going to kill every single one of the soldiers there once he arrived. He’d do anything to get you back. Anything.

———

Everything ached.

From your queue, to your scalp, to your neck, and to the fresh new wound Quaritch left after he decided Lo’ak was taking too long to relay his message to his Father. He had sliced your thigh and stabbed the wound in response, jamming it into the flesh/plush of your thigh. You cried out to the brutal attack, growling out in pain as a handful of tears fell down your cheeks. Quaritch only smirked at your reaction, throwing you down onto the ground as the rest of the soldiers followed suit in discarding their prisoners, herding them into a circle.

Kiri helped you up, allowing you to lean into her. She quickly assessed your wound and deemed that you were going to be fine, as long as no one pulled the knife out from your leg.

Lo’ak held your head in the palms of his hands as he looked for any other slices Quaritch managed to make before stabbing you. He didn’t find any and sighed out in relief from that.

Spider had gathered Tuk in his arms and tried to silence her crying before any of the soldiers got inspiration from Quaritch and decided to punish the child for crying.

“Fucking son of a bitch,” you whispered between grinded teeth after the attack, trying your best to not yank out the foreign object in your thigh. You began to think that maybe you will end up dying out here after all, amongst the beautiful greenery of Pandora. Albeit it not being the way you wanted to go out, it still wouldn’t be the most gruesomest death you imagined happening. You just wished that you were able to kiss Neteyam goodbye one last time.

———

Furious wouldn’t even begin to describe the type of emotion he was feeling at the moment. There probably was no word equivalent to the emotion he currently felt.

Neteyam had ended up disobeying his Fathers orders of him staying with the ikrans, saying that he was ‘too emotionally invested’ and that his anger was too risky for what he was about to face. He thought it was utter bullshit that he wasn’t allowed to aid his parents in rescuing his siblings and his lover from Quaritch. If anything, it gave him more of a reason to focus and get everyone out of there safely.

He had managed to take down two Avatar soldiers in his search for you. He decided that they weren’t worthy of wasting his arrows on, slicing and stabbing them until their throats were practically open wide in exposure or had any time to process the pain. He’d been quick and brutal in his attacks. The more bodies he left behind, the more closer he was to having you in his arms.

His Mother had already released her arrow by the time he arrived on the scene, causing the other soldiers to shoot out into the trees and pull you all up in response. He was forced to hid behind a tree, eyes desperately searching for your familiar figure amongst the Avatar bodies and his siblings.

Neteyam’s eyes finally found your body, still in a soldiers grasp as they tried to pull you away towards where the others were gathering.

His gaze narrowed at the soldiers tight grip on you, robotically notching an arrow and drawing his bowstring back, almost immediately letting it go just as quick as his initial drawing of the arrow.

The arrow lodged itself in between the eyes of the soldier, it’s body slumping backwards as it’s grip loosened on your body, allowing you to follow its descent to the ground.

You groaned out in pain when your body made contact with the forest floor. You were too tired to move out of the way once you realized the soldier that had you in its arms had died, accepting your fall to the floor as gracefully as you could. The knife was still in your thigh, shooting electric hot pain up your leg upon being disturbed from the short fall.

You felt another pair of hands grab you and roughly pull you upwards, you screaming and kicking in retaliation. But just as quickly as their arms grabbed you, they let you go, a loud grunt and hiss following as their body was thrown to the side.

Neteyam had quickly made his way to you once he spotted another Avatar pull you up. He had unsheathed his knife and jumped on the soldier, causing the two of them to roll around on the floor before Neteyam brutally and repeatedly drove his weapon into the Avatar’s body, not stopping until he was certain that he caused enough damage to the fake Na’vi.

Stay away from her, he thought after every stab he inflicted, it’s not her time.

You had looked up when Neteyam delivered the final blow, slitting the insignificant soldier's throat.

You had never seen your mate this angry. Sure there were times where he lashed out at you after an argument or got so angry he hissed and growled at his brother for his ridiculous antics. But never, never have you ever seen him so vengeful. You didn’t even know if vengeful was the right word to describe how Neteyam looked like at the moment. But nothing else came to mind.

“Yawne,” you whispered out, desperate to catch your boyfriend's attention, wanting to get out of the line of fire as quickly as possible.

The teen whipped his head towards you, eyes dilated to the point where they looked like slits in his pupils. His chest was heaving up and down heavily, lungs taking big gulps of air as he did so. A few braids fell in front of his face, masking some of it as he looked at you.

His whole expression softened once he laid eyes on you. He could tell that you wanted to get as far away from the scene as you quickly could, that sad and traumatic look in your eyes at you pleaded with him.

Neteyam quickly shook out of his stupor and gathered you in his arms, being weary of the knife in your leg that he just noticed. Another thing that made him want to kill Quaritch himself.

“It’s okay, I got you yawntutsyip,” he whispered back, dodging all of the flying bullets and arrows he could as he weaved into the heavy forest foliage. His grip on you never faltered as he jumped over logs and ducked under stray branches to get you to safety. His whole body was on autopilot as he ran around, solely focused on getting you out of there alive.

Once Neteyam had decided he was far out enough to not be chased or caught by any more Avatar soldiers, he gently laid you down onto the soft grass, eyes quickly assessing your figure for any other injuries he should be aware about. He let out a sigh of relief when he came to the conclusion that you had no other wounds that needed tending to, softly bringing you into his arms for a warm embrace.

You immediately broke down into the hug, burrowing your face into the crook of Neteyam’s neck and wrapping your arms around his back to bring him in closer. Your sobs were a telltale sign of how distraught you were from the events that just occurred, brain still racing to process it all.

Neteyam softly shushed you as he put one hand on the back of your head and the other on the lower portion of your back, softly rubbing the skin in attempts to comfort you.

“You’re safe now, my love,” he whispered, kissing your hair, “I got you. You’re safe.”.

You relaxed into your lovers arms as he comforted you, feeling safe in his hold.

Neteyam had never gotten that blood thirsty before and that frightened him a little. If he acted like this when you were in trouble, can you imagine how’d he act if you actually died as a result of tonight’s events? He didn’t know the answer to that. All he knew was that you’re his and he’d do anything to ensure that it is not your time yet.

#atwow imagines #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar: the way of water #atwow #atwow x reader #atwow x you #avatar x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam #neteyam imagines #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x you #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader

[xinxiaogato]

— love at first thrust

summary. as an ambassador from mondstadt, your goal was to persuade the duke of fontaine’s underwater fortress (who reportedly had a herculean physique and an absolute bakery) to agree with your plan on improving international relations. the last thing you anticipated was for him to agree to you getting his rocks off.

love interest. fem!reader x wriothesley.

warnings. unedited, 18+ content (mdni), nsfw, cursing, masturbation, voyuerism, size difference kink, cunnilingus, fingering, name calling (slut), slight orgasm denial, skin biting, almost a handjob, angst (somehow) and comfort, mentions of murder, mentions of pregnancy, porn w plot, virginity loss, unprotected sex, p in v, fondling, rough sex, impregnation, bdsm (handcuffs), soft dom!wrio.

word count. 5,303.

note. my first time dabbling in smut… to whoever is reading this that somehow knows me irl, pls turn straight around ! you are referred to as “reader” by the way.

romance schmomance. how did anyone expect wriothesley to allocate time in his schedule for a lover while properly running the fortress of meropide? his grace was perfectly content with teasing his two tsundere subordinates, who refused to face their feelings for each other. besides, love appeared too complicated of a matter, as evidenced by the prisoners he overheard lamenting on a day-to-day basis about their marital affairs and unsuccessful endeavors in flirting.

but sigewinne thought otherwise, pestering him recommending that he seek a partner because not only would it fulfill his social needs but also satisfy his sexual urges (he scrunched up his nose every time she made that point). frankly, all the duke needed was his right hand, some lotion, and a thirty-minute break of privacy.

…so what was a pair of eyes doing from the staircase to his office, staring incredulously at him fucking his cock into his curled fist during the thirty-minute break of privacy?

keyword: privacy, meaning no one was supposed to be in his office during this time!

a few minutes earlier…

“ah, ms. reader, right this way!”

an eager guard ushered you to an imposing set of metal doors to which your house back in mondstadt paled in comparison. as the guard, who appeared to be a rookie, fumbled with the keys to the administrator’s office, you turned your attention to the rest of the surroundings that seamlessly blended together due to the lack of decor. rusting pipes ran from the bottom up in austere grandeur, and warm lights were scattered across the stronghold, illuminating the faces of the few dozen or so prisoners wandering around the open space. 

although the conditions weren’t all sunshine and rainbows (literally, since the fortress is hundreds of feet under the surface), serving time in the fortress of meropide was bearable enough to the point that some convicts continued living there even after their sentences were up. this was the piece of information that piqued your interest during extensive research into the nation of justice, as access to rehabilitative programs while incarcerated had reduced the crime rate there.

thus, there you stood, prepared to present the ultimate strategy for promoting bilateral relations to the administrator of fontaine’s correctional institution. in exchange for advice from monsieur wriothesley on how to reform mondstadt’s prison system, the two neighboring countries could collaborate on an event similar to that of the “neighboring nations congenial poetry gala” between mondstadt and liyue.

it made sense since both fontaine and mondstadt were renowned for their romanticism, and the only other thing you could offer from your hometown besides poetry and artistry was… wine, which you knew wouldn’t fly. no government wanted more drunkards bumbling down their streets than they already had.

finally, the guard pushed the doors open (not without almost popping a vein) and gestured for you to enter monsieur wriothesley’s office, and once you did, you averted your gaze to the spiraling set of stairs.

however, prior to making your presence known, strange… grunting noises from the upper floor sent a shiver down your spine and planted you firmly to the ground. rapidly, your mind swirled with a million possibilities of what the source could be. although the duke was allegedly benign, he was still a warden through and through. was he personally punishing someone for their misconduct?

it frankly sounded quite painful, and you were getting worried that you came in at a bad time. after all, you did arrive an hour earlier than scheduled.

…one peek couldn’t hurt, right?

then you’ll be able to determine whether or not he needed a minute.

curiosity killed the cat, and that cat was you. because after gingerly ascending the staircase and stopping to be able to peek just above the metal floor, you chanced upon a scene that not even your wildest dreams could conjure.

the black-haired duke’s coat was popped open, with the hem of his dress shirt stuffed between his lips to muffle groan after groan that flowed past them. for several long seconds, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scars running down his neck and heaving pectorals, gleaming in a slight sheen of sweat.

and when you did manage to tear your eyes away, they instantly flitted past his abdomen (which needed its own place in a museum) to the sight of wriothesley’s large—and you meant large—appendage thrusting desperately into his calloused hand between his gargantuan thighs. a bit of precum dribbled from the tip, trailing down his length only to be pushed back up by his fingers and creating a frothy ring near the head of his cock.

you had to stifle a gasp behind your clipboard, trying to process what the hell was happening. the prison administrator and his little friend definitely needed a minute, so you quickly swiveled around to give them just that—only for the sound of his chair screeching backward to freeze you in your tracks.

“who goes there?” his voice boomed throughout the office.

shit!

your heels weren’t doing you much of a favor as you bolted down the staircase, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins overrode every inconvenience to get you to the doorway as fast as possible. however, you didn’t have the strength to budge the doors open (what were they made of? tungsten!?), and before you could even blink, wriothesley had you trapped between the only way out and his bulky figure.

“you thought you could get away?” he snarled, grabbing you by the shoulder (with the hand that was just wrapped around his dick, mind you!) to twist you around and get a good look at your face. your clipboard clattered to the floor, and you nearly screamed when his cock—which was somehow more enraged than he was—prodded against your stomach, making your insides feel like they were doing backflips.

you tried your best not to look at… it… as you spoke up to defend yourself. “sir, it isn’t what it looks like—”

“i think it’s exactly what it looks like,” he interjected angrily, thick eyebrows furrowed above a pair of piercing blue eyes. “what? did one of your fellow inmates dare you to snoop on the warden for blackmail? how many coupons did they offer? hmm?”

“inmates? coupons?” now your eyebrows were furrowed. “monsieur, if you could please let me explain!”

it took a second for wriothesley to regain his senses, and after noticing your foreign attire and trembling form, he retreated at once. “archons, i…” he stroked his face with his hand and covered his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. “i’m terribly sorry. i thought you were one of them.”

“them?”

he nodded dejectedly in response before dropping his hand to the side and meeting your eyes, but this time, it wasn’t with indignation. “yes, a group of ill-intentioned people recently formed in order to unmask my secrets…” he had to look away for a moment before continuing. “...one of them being what i do in my office during lunchtime.”

“...oh.”

“as for you…” over his broad chest, he crossed his arms that could crush watermelons with one flex (okay, maybe you were overexaggerating.) “how did you gain entry into my office? it should have been locked.”

you cleared your throat. “a guard let me in.” wriothesley parted his lips to question that, but you were already one step ahead. “he seemed new.”

the warden managed to put two and two together, and a sense of dread began consuming him from head to toe. “you’re… the envoy from mondstadt,” he realized, a taste in his mouth more bitter than the tea he oversteeped this morning. “i must say: you’re a bit early.”

you replied with a light shrug, “the cavalry is expeditious.”

“right. that’s… great.” he gave you a tight-lipped smile. “could… could you give me a minute? i would like to make myself presentable so that i can give you a proper introduction, and… again, i want to apologize for having you walk in on something so vulgar. i’ll be sure to compensate for it in any way possible.”

your original plan from the beginning was to give this man a minute, but… the longer you stood in his presence, the more aroused you felt. he was really handsome, standing many heads taller than you and practically oozing with sex appeal. the tidbits about his appearance that you heard through the grapevine in mondstadt couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing. watching him jerking off earlier, there was definitely a moment when you wanted to replace his hand with your cunt.

pause.

this might be the only opportunity for you to break away from the perfect image you were constantly upholding. throughout your adolescence and young adulthood, you had trained to become a professional in your field and garnered copious experience in diplomacy so that you could obtain a high-ranking position in government. this caused you to miss out on a lot of the joys in life, including sex. that was the first time you had seen a penis in the flesh.

“did you say any way possible?” you inquired.

“of course, i’m a reasonable man. i doubt i’ll be opposed to anything during today’s negotiations.”

after a moment of hesitation, you braced yourself for an eternity’s supply of humiliation and let your last thread of sanity snap in two. you fell to your knees right in front of his throbbing member, which was still as hard as a rock.

“...then you won’t be opposed to this, right?” you murmured. in a bold move, you leaned forward to press your cheek against the side of his cock, all while maintaining eye contact with him.

wriothesley sharply inhaled through his teeth, blood rushing to his face as he took a step back. “what… what are you…!?”

but he wasn’t dumb. he knew what you were intending. however, this felt more like you were doing a favor for him when he was supposed to be doing one for you.

and do one he shall. 

in one frame, you were hunkered down on the floor in front of his grace, and in the next frame, you were being carried to the second floor of the office in his sinewy arms. you were in no danger of being dropped, but you clung onto his shirt regardless, squealing your head off and flailing your legs like a feral animal, which only added to wriothesley’s amusement.

“are you regretting your decision?” he asked, his lips curled into a smug smile. “i can always stop. just say the word.”

your heart was racing at a mile a minute as he kicked a coffee table out of the way and plopped you onto the couch. when he crouched between your legs, a sheepish you batted his greedy hands away and hurriedly shoved your thighs together. “wait, i… this is escalating way too fast!” you quavered. “are we about to…” do the devil’s tango? the pickle in the jar? the train into the tunnel!?

a gruff chuckle rumbled from his chest. “you were the one who initiated it,” wriothesley pointed out with a wolfish grin. “i’m just finishing what you started, mondstadter.”

“but i just wanted to help you with your… ‘problem’!” you shot back, cheeks rivaling the red of a tomato. “why am i suddenly on the receiving end!?”

“ah, that’s where you’re wrong, because this will help me with my problem,” the duke replied, tugging your pants down your hips to reveal your drenched undergarment. you instantly convulsed and buckled your knees as he pressed his thick fingers against your clothed pussy, and when he drew them back, a string of wetness extended from your underwear to his fingertips.

remember when wriothesley convinced himself that all he needed was self-love?

fuck that.

“your grace!” you cried out as he dove forward and, with his hands anchoring your thighs, began ravaging your clit through the fabric, his tongue swirling and swiping against it ruthlessly. you had not even a millisecond to breathe as your vision blurred from tears of unmitigated satisfaction. with little strength, you reached out to wrench at his dark locks of hair, which only spurred him on further to attack your quivering folds.

archons almighty, what would it feel like if he—

as if he was reading your mind, wriothesley peeled your panties to the side, and the roughness of his tongue along with his pointer finger sliding in sent your body into another realm of pleasure. if accidentally smacking the back of your head against the couch’s gilded crest rail wasn’t the reason you saw stars just now, then it undoubtedly had to be the duke’s skillful ministrations.

“you’re so responsive,” wriothesley murmured, his hot breath deliciously fanning your skin. you were going crazy from his nose nudging against your sensitive bud as he flattened his tongue to completely coat each and every taste bud with your essence, and his digit continued to slide in and out at an inhumane speed, coaxing more and more of your whines and moans. “fuck, and your slut pussy is taking my finger so well. how many people have gotten the chance to see this pretty view?”

pretty view? you mentally scoffed while struggling to keep your wits about. says him! not every day did a tall, dark, and handsome man lap at your arousal like it was his last meal! you questioned how he could even breathe down there.

“no, i… j-just… just you…” you managed between labored gulps of air, your cheeks flushed of color. “i… i’ve never… d-done this… before.”

in the midst of leaving a bite mark on the side of your thigh, wriothesley abruptly extricated his finger, which made your pulsating hole very unhappy. “are you saying this is your first time?” he asked in disbelief.

you nodded timidly. when he didn’t respond right away, you grew worried that he got turned off by your admission, but weirdly enough, he snickered.

“looks like we’re in the same boat,” wriothesley stated to your bafflement. having withdrawn his finger, he brought it to his mouth and sucked it clean of your fluids before returning to lightly thumb your clit using circular motions. you had to scoot away because how else were you going to speak clearly with him doing that!? 

“y-you’re a virgin!?” you spluttered, ogling down at this man like he had just grown a horn on top of his head. 

“way to rub it in,” he jeered at you in a mocking tone. “yes, i’m a virgin. what’s so surprising?”

“because… you’re you!” you stressed. “have you seen yourself in the mirror? it’s a crime for you to look like a sex god without having had sex!”

once again, wriothesley found himself enlivened by your visceral reactions. when an advisor informed him of a diplomat’s advent this week, the warden was ready to be bored to tears by another mundane businessperson. and could you blame him? a few weeks ago, an ambassador hailing from sumeru went on and on about an invention that they wanted to promote to the fortress of meropide’s inhabitants.

…that invention boasted a 41% success rate.

so imagine wriothesley’s gaping jaw when, the moment you bent your knees and voiced your offer, all of his expectations were chucked out of the window.

“‘crime’?” he echoed, followed by a husky chuckle. “i see what you did there. how does it feel to be in love with a criminal?”

a frown weighed down the corners of your lips. “hold on. i may or may not be succumbing to a criminal, but who’s saying i’m in love with one?”

“your body is telling me everything i need to know,” rizzley wriothesley crooned as he rested the side of his head against your thigh. “well, except for your name.”

“…reader,” you answered breathily. “my name is reader.”

“reader.” he nodded in approval. “well, reader, let me show you how we do it in fontaine.”

with newfound vigor, wriothesley mounted the couch so that he was now towering over you and interlocked his hands with yours, pressing them into the vermillion back cushions on either side of your head. as if he was communicating to you that you could no longer escape his advances, even if they became too much.

for some time, he gazed intensely at your blushing face, committing each detail to memory, before he bent down and connected his lips to yours. you tentatively reciprocated his tender kisses, moving your mouth in ways that were unfamiliar yet exhilarating, and shutting your eyes slipped the ground away from your feet and made you feel like you were floating. he let go of one hand to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, which grew into him absentmindedly caressing your cheek like you were made of glass. your neck tickled. your ear burned. every single touch felt like fire on your skin. every kiss was slowly melting your body into mush, melding your body with his. there was no longer a distinction between where you ended and where he began.

after you parted your lips to impart the permission wriothesley’s tongue frenziedly sought, it wasn’t long before the kiss spiraled into a battle for dominance—a battle you lost in the blink of an eye. you could taste remnants of yourself on his tongue from his previous indulgences, which successfully heightened how aroused you were tenfold. your free hand crept up and started kneading your breast through your blouse, your moans swallowed by wriothesley’s mouth.

when he noticed you began touching yourself, he pulled away to your dismay.

he really liked how you craned your neck toward him at the very end of the kiss when he disentangled from you, as though his and your pairs of lips were opposite ends of a magnet. he liked seeing you craving more.

he didn’t like that you were getting ahead of yourself.

“nuh-uh, love,” he whispered, pulling your wrist to the side. “that’s my job.”

wriothesley tugged the hem of your blouse up to expose your bra, and he whistled at the sight. “beige?” he just had to point out with a smirk, bearing a canine. “you really know how to rile me up.”

you internally facepalmed at morning you’s choice of wardrobe. “i was walking into this expecting to have a proper conversation, not to get laid.”

he cocked an eyebrow and suddenly went into business mode. “what was your proposition anyway?”

you couldn’t help but laugh out loud before grasping his large hand and placing it on your chest. “are we really about to do our meeting now?” you chided him.

“you and i are already ‘meeting’ in every sense of the word.”

an affectionate smile broke through your face, and you tugged the man forward by his red tie. “come here, you big hunk.”

wriothesley mirrored your warmth and captured your lips in a searing kiss before traveling down to pepper smooches on your neck and suckle along your collarbone, his teeth the paintbrush and your skin the canvas. he slithered his fingers into the confines of your bra and pinched your nipples to elicit more r-rated sounds from your mouth, and in the corner of your low-lidded eyes, you became very conscious of the reality that his dick would twitch every time you moaned.

anemo archon, forgive me for mine own sins.

“reader,” he gasped. he hunched forward and almost smothered you with his chest as you began to stroke his cock, a bolt out of the blue. you weren’t expecting him to display such a visceral reaction, so you halted at the base of his manhood (which your hand couldn’t even fully wrap around…)

“did i do something wrong?”

“no, not at all,” he affirmed strongly. “i think the problem…”

…was that the sensation of your touch felt astonishingly different to him greasing the pole. it was a shuddering ecstasy that sprinted along his body and unlocked the carnal desires he had kept stowed away.

the key to his dick heart was supposed to have been eternally lost at sea. that was something he was sure of. that was something every person who tried to get close to him was sure of. so he ignored sigewinne’s recommendations, he ignored the rumors of his impotence among the prisoners, and he tried to ignore the hot flashes that jolted him awake in the dead of night, reminding him again that he had always been devoid of love since the start.

but then you came prancing into his office, swinging that key around your finger.

wriothesley’s breathing became shallow, and he pressed his lips firmly into a thin, white line as he stared down at you. how were you shining so splendidly in contrast to the dull lights of his office? how did your frowning lips still look so kissable? how were you looking at him like you were seeing right through him?

he didn’t even know you.

was he deluding himself?

did sigewinne spike his tea?

should he keep going?

what if he hurt you?

a gentle tapping on his forearm hauled wriothesley out of his rumination. he realized he was sweating a lot.

“now i’m sure i did something wrong,” you said worriedly.

wriothesley swallowed harshly before shaking his head, his tufted black hair swaying from side to side. “no… the problem is that… i don’t think i can hold back.”

…

“then what are you waiting for?” you deadpanned. “are you into blue balling?”

wriothesley blinked. “uh, not necessarily…”

“then let’s do it on your table.”

…

“reader…” wriothesley covered his blushing face with the back of his hand. “has anyone told you how… forward you can be?”

a giggle bubbled from your throat. “i’m pretty sure my field requires me to be forward. is it a turn-off?”

“i couldn’t be happier,” he reassured you gladly, and you were soon swept up into another bridal carry. “i will warn you though. if you make a mess of my documents, there will be punishment.”

you smiled. “looking forward to it.” (hopefully, wriothesley didn’t notice he was already going to need new seat cushions after this.)

wriothesley set you down onto his hardwood table, your back toward him, and had you prop one leg up onto the edge, putting your pussy on full display for his enjoyment. he watched in a hypnotic trance as your fluids dripped like a leaking faucet, and he wanted nothing more than to plug you up and fill your needy cunt to the brim. the warden soaked his fingers in your juices to lather them over his shaft, but while he had one hand gripping your hip and the other lining his member up with your entrance, his muscles stiffened. you peeked at him from over your shoulder.

“blue balling bastard!” you almost shouted, but he appeared too distraught to be badgered.

“i don’t have a condom,” wriothesley moaned, falling forward and smacking his forehead against your shoulder. for the first time in a long time, he really wanted to cry. “i would have to walk over to the infirmary and grab one for us, but—”

“—i can’t wait much longer,” you two finished in tandem breathlessly, eyes fixed upon each other. in a matter of seconds, this became a pressing matter that left you and wriothesley in deep contemplation. two strangers—total virgins at that—were literally about to raw dog it. honestly, your parents would be bouncing off the walls over this since they always lamented their graying hairs yet shortage of grandchildren.

but wriothesley… you knew a man of his status was much too preoccupied with handling prison affairs as opposed to prison "affairs". although the iudex of fontaine would be anyone’s first thought at the word “justice”, the administrator of the fortress of meropide delivered his own fair share of justice to maintain order when fights broke out in corridors, to overlook the production of gardemeks, and to protect the peace he had fostered in this very structure.

these things were what made you hurriedly request an audience with wriothesley in the first place. his impressive accomplishments as the new leader of the stronghold were what brought the you from mondstadt to the him in fontaine. however, you now found yourself in a sticky situation that would burden wriothesley further if you two took this risk. a child between you and him… that hadn’t been in your agenda.

plus, the steambird would really get a hoot out of this. “breaking news: mondstadt ambassador walked into the fortress of meropide and walked out with a baby lump.”

so, you made up your mind.

“wrio—”

“will you let me come inside of you, reader?” he whispered against the shell of your ear, making your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. your vaginal walls automatically clenched around nothingness at the thought as you gasped and gaped back at him in bewilderment.

“what…? are you sure!?”

wriothesley nodded. “i-i promise, reader, to be a loving partner to you and devoted father to our child,” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve dreamt of having kids with the person i cherish so that they can grow up in a household where they feel safe, but… my greatest fear in life is becoming the monster that… th-that my foster parents were to me and my adoptive siblings.” his face went white. he could feel himself on the verge of vomiting, which he swore he had rooted out long ago. the scars on his body had never felt more painful. “i know that that belief is unfounded, but… i’ve been a violent person since i was a teenager. since the day that i… i killed them.”

“so if you do not wish to bear a child with a person like me, i understand,” wriothesley avowed, his eyes turned down in shame. “i can find other means to make you feel good, and i’ll just… go to the restroom to finish my business.”

you were finally learning about the warden's haunting backstory, sealed behind his assertive exterior. immediately, tears sprung to the corners of your eyes. you twisted your torso to cup his face with shaking hands and look him square in the face.

“wriothesley… you are so much more than your past,” you insisted earnestly. “are you not aware of how incredible of a person you are? of how many lives you have changed for the better? you couldn’t change the past, so you made it your life mission to change the future of every person who’s living and breathing in this stronghold right now. you converted your suffering into something that led to the liberation of many others’.” you gave him a wobbly smile through the tears streaming down your cheeks like waterfalls. “that’s why i wanted to meet you, wrio. i wanted to meet the man behind the operations, behind the smiles on these prisoners’ faces. so please… don’t ever think badly of yourself.”

as the color returned to wriothesley’s cheeks, the duke couldn’t look away from the eyes that sparkled up at him so brilliantly. it was mesmerizing. his heart had never felt this full, and he wanted it to be as close to yours as possible. without missing a beat, his arms wrapped around your body, lightly brushing against your nipples in the process and causing them to harden on contact. he pressed his entire frontside against your back, and you could clearly feel his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage (and his dick saying hi from between your thighs).

“you’re so good to me, reader,” wriothesley mumbled. “what did i do to deserve this?”

you laughed and caressed the side of his head. “i just told you, idiot.”

his signature smirk returned in all of its glory, and he trailed his hands down to rest on your hips. “hold onto something.”

“what? agh!”

your body lurched forward once wriothesley drove his cock into your sopping heat, every inch dragging along your walls until he reached your cervix and his pelvic bone was right against your ass. a guttural moan escaped as he remained perfectly motionless, reveling in the feeling of your pussy rippling along his length, and you clamped a hand over your mouth to mask the embarrassing noises seeping through. the pain was unexpectedly minimal, but now you had to deal with this enormous object penetrating you to your very core. and not a moment passed before he started pushing in and out of you, squelching noises rebounding off the metal surroundings as your bated breath was yanked from your throat. throughout wriothesley’s grunts of exertion, a moan poured past your lips at each thrust, his balls slapping against your puffy lips and the table legs screeching in reply. his hands slid up to mercilessly flick your nipples with his thumbs at a rate that engendered tightening sensations to build up inside of your lower abdomen.

“wrio!” you exclaimed, writhing in ecstasy. you didn’t think you could handle the pert beads on your chest being fondled in unison with him pistoning your cunt from the back for another minute. “wr-wrio…! hnngh… ah! i feel so w-weird… ah! nngh…!”

“it’s a good weird, yeah?” growled wriothesley amid nibbling on your earlobe. “i can tell by the way your womb is descending to meet my cock, just begging for my seed. and that’s exactly what i’ll give you.”

“nngh, i… i’m… a-agh!” you pathetically blubbered. a stream of saliva ran from the corner of your lips as he pounded into your tight channel with savage intensity, the whites of your glazed eyes beginning to show. “i-i think i’m gonna c-come…!” 

“shit…” he rasped, noticing the telltale signs of an orgasm building up in both of you. “me, too…” he roughly grabbed your chin, fingers digging slightly into flesh, so that he could witness your expression contorting with bliss as you reached your cusp. “i want you to take every drop of my cum, reader. every fucking drop until nothing but my essence flows from your depraved hole.”

you nodded and pursed your lips, overwhelmed by the persistent and passionate onslaught on your pussy that was utterly molded into the shape of his velvet-wrapped steel. “yes, p-please…! wrio, please shoot it inside of me!”

finally, wriothesley bit down on your shoulder and slammed home into your depths, burying himself inside of your womanhood while releasing thick ropes of semen. your muscles convulsed and clamped down onto his cock with a vice, milking it until he had emptied his balls completely. the light humming of the industrial fan above commingled with the heavy panting of the two bodies that have become one, drunk on the languid atmosphere.

“you’re so obedient,” he cooed, nudging aside a lock of hair that was clinging to your sweaty forehead, whereas you were still reeling from wave after wave of endorphins. as you endeavored to muster the strength to respond, wriothesley glanced down at his files freshly marinating in your juices. “well, for the most part,” he added. “what did i say about my documents?”

“i…” you scowled and snapped back at him haughtily, “i wasn’t trying to ruin them!”

his mellow chuckle resonated in your ears, and in the ensuing seconds, the sound of clinking metal pivoted your attention.

“well, you can’t argue that they’re illegible now,” he said, effortlessly restraining your wrists in handcuffs from archons knew where. you also came to the startling realization that his member hadn’t softened one bit since he came within your spongy walls. “and as the duke of the fortress of meropide, i must carry out punishment where i see fit.”

“…lord barbatos.”

“haha, i love you, too.”

(several days later, charlotte got her big paycheck after spotting another “meeting” between you and wriothesley behind café lutece.)

© xinxiaogato. please do not translate my work without permission or attempt to plagiarize it.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #wriothesley x reader #fluff #crack #comfort #angst #smut #stella writes — ! #love at first thrust

[txttletale]

Hi! Do you think you could link me to some resources about the problems/ evils of the EU? Would love to find some but it's hard to know what's reliable when I have no base knowledge in this area + you seem very well informed :)

sure. let's start with what the EU does to its own member states--in 2009, the EU bailed the greek government out of severe debt on the condition that they establish brutal austerity measures, cutting public spending and welfare. these measures served to immiserate and destroy the lives of thousands of greek people:

Greek mortality has worsened significantly since the beginning of the century. In 2000, the death rate per 100,000 people was 944.5. By 2016, it had risen to 1174.9, with most of the increase taking place from 2010 onwards.

[forbes]

Since the implementation of the austerity programme, Greece has reduced its ratio of health-care expenditure to GDP to one of the lowest within the EU, with 50% less public hospital funding in 2015 than in 2009. This reduction has left hospitals with a deficit in basic supplies, while consumers are challenged by transient drug shortages.

[the lancet]

The homeless population is thought to have grown by 25 per cent since 2009, now numbering 20,000 people.

[oxfam]

the most brutal treatment, however, the EU of course reserves for migrants from the global south. the EU sets strict migration quotas and uses its member states as weapons against desperate people fleeing across the mediterranean. boats are prevented from landing, migrants that do make it to land are repelled with brutal violence, and refugees are deported back to countries where their lives are in lethal danger. these policies have led to many, many deaths--and the refugees and migrants who do survive are treating fucking inhumanely.

After a perilous journey across the desert, Abdulaziz was locked up in Triq al-Sikka, a grim prison in Tripoli, Libya. Why? Because the EU pays Libyan militias millions of euros to detain anyone deemed a possible migrant to Europe [...] A leaked EU internal memorandum in 2020 acknowledged that capturing migrants was now “a profitable business model” [...] in Triq al-Sikka and other detention centres, “acts of murder, enslavement, torture, rape and other inhumane acts are committed against migrants”, observed a damning UN report.

[the guardian]

Volunteers have logged more than 27,000 deaths by drowning since 1993, often hundreds at a time when large ships capsize. These account for nearly 80% of all the entries.

[the guardian]

Refugees and asylum seekers were punched, slapped, beaten with truncheons, weapons, sticks or branches, by police or border guards who often removed their ID tags or badges, the committee said in its annual report. People on the move were subject to pushbacks, expulsion from European states, either by land or sea, without having asylum claims heard. Victims were also subject to “inhuman and degrading treatment”, such as having bullets fired close to their bodies while they lay on the ground, being pushed into rivers, sometimes with hands tied, or being forced to walk barefoot or even naked across a border.

[the guardian]

In September, Greece opened a refugee camp on the island of Samos that has been described as prison-like. The €38m (£32m) facility for 3,000 asylum seekers has military-grade fencing and CCTV to track people’s movements. Access is controlled by fingerprint, turnstiles and X-rays. A private security company and 50 uniformed officers monitor the camp. It is the first of five that Greece has planned; two more opened in November.

[the guardian]

i could go on. i could cite dozens more similarly brutal news stories about horrific mistreatment, or any of the dozens of people who have killed themselves in the custody of border police under horrific conditions. the EU is a murderous institution that does not care about the lives of refugees and migrants or about the lives of the citizens of any member state that is not pursuing a vicious enough neoliberal political program

#ask #sa mention

[ebenelephant]

look i've been partaking in fandom for a number of years now but nothing so far has affected me quite so much as ninejackrose, and doctorjackrose in general. i feel nauseous just thinking about them.

because you have the obvious angle; they seem so in love, then jack is abandoned and waits for the doctor for 150 years only to find that rose is gone and the doctor a) has a new face and b) has moved on. after they left him, after all that sincerity and affection, they just carry on as normal as though he'd never been there to begin with. but also, rose clearly doesn't know about jack's immortality, so we have to ask, what does she think happened to him? what did the doctor tell her? how do you even begin to untangle the fucked up ethics of that one?

rose made this man immortal because she couldn't bear to think of him as dead, and no one even told her he'd died in the first place. she was nineteen. the doctor was over nine hundred. jack was in his thirties. she made him into essentially a perfect companion; somebody who the doctor loves, and who he cannot outlive. a reminder of rose's boundless capacity for love, and ten can barely even bring himself to look him in the eyes.

by the time ten meets him for a second time, when the daleks invade, jack is already older than him. jack is more than a thousand years older than him, in fact, because he was buried alive in 27ad and was forced to live for a millennia as a prisoner to the earth and to his own brother. jack finds a new family, finds somebody to love, and they all die. rose gets an imitation of the doctor to love in a world that isn't really her own; their lives will be a blink that the others won't get to see. the doctor also finds love and a family, and also loses them - every version of them.

they meet in a prison millions of lightyears away from where they first met – thousands of years after, depending on who you ask – because jack heard that the doctor needed help. he's barely aged; the doctor has had two faces between this one and last time. she recognises him immediately, though he mistakes someone else for her.

they still remember rose.

#shaking crying throwing up etc etc #chewing at my own ankles #ninejackrose #tenjackrose #doctorjackrose #doctor who #the doctor #rose tyler #jack harkness #torchwood #mine #ninth doctor #tenth doctor #captain jack harkness

[tropes-and-tales]

Five Times Vigilante Definitely Does Not Have Feelings (and the One Time He Does)

Characters:  Adrian Chase/Vigilante x f!reader

CW:  Crude language; yearning.

Word Count:  3982

Adrian Chase will tell anyone:  he doesn’t have emotions like people do.  He doesn’t feel sad or angry or embarrassed.  When Peacemaker gave him the nickname “Thimble,” he certainly didn’t cry.  When Peacemaker was sent to prison, he certainly didn’t feel lonely.  

Not having emotions is what makes him a more evolved human.

And yet, when ARGUS springs Peacemaker and sets up a black ops outfit in Evergreen, Adrian finds himself toeing the line of feelings.  He doesn’t have emotions like people do, but he comes awfully close a handful of times…until he crosses the line entirely.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Vulnerable

As the Vigilante, Adrian gets hurt all the time.  He’s become proficient at stitching up his own wounds.  His body is littered with the scars of his own handiwork.

But when Goff tortures him for information, and when the ARGUS team comes to his and Peacemaker’s rescue, he finds himself missing half of a pinkie toe.  It’s the most important toe on the human body, and he’ll probably never walk again…and no one seems to care.

Except for you.  In the van as they return to headquarters, you sit across from him, watching him as he studies his mangled foot.  You murmur something that sounds sympathetic, but he barely hears it over Peacemaker laughing at him.

At headquarters, you look at him and jerk your head in the direction of the back office.

“I can stitch you up, if you want,” you offer. 

He starts to shake his head, but the mean blonde woman—Harcourt, her name is—makes an offhand comment about your superior patch-up abilities, so he accepts your help.  He limps painfully behind you, follows you into a room that has been converted into a rough sort of exam room and budget clinic.

“Hop up on the table,” you tell him, and even though he doesn’t trust you—or any of your team—he does as you say.  It’s clumsy.  He hurts in a hundred different places:  his half-amputated toe, his electrocuted crotch, all the scrapes and bruises from the fight with Cobra Kai. 

“I won’t take off my mask,” he warns you.  “I take my secret identity very seriously.  If you saw my face, I’d have to kill you.”

“Duly noted,” you reply dryly.  “But I only need to see your foot.”

He pulls off his boot and regards his mangled half-pinkie toe sadly.  You pull on a pair of latex gloves and turn on a bright lamp, angling it at his bare foot.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you say as you prod the wound gently.  “In fact, you really didn’t lose anything but a couple layers of skin.”

“The blade was as dull as fuck,” he replies. 

You wheel your stool over to a cabinet, then pull out some supplies:  needle and thread, disinfectant, gauze and tape.  Then you wheel back over to him and set to work.

The mean blonde woman was right—you’re quick, efficient.  He looks down at your bent head as you stitch him up, and he sees that your needlework is better than his own.  He doubts he’ll even have much of a scar once it heals.

But it’s the strange feeling that creeps over him:  makes his vision waver, makes him feel a little light-headed.  Your hands are deft but also gentle.  Adrian can’t remember ever being touched so gently.  Maybe when he was really small.  Maybe his mom was gentle like that when he was so small that he can’t remember it now.  It makes him break out in goosebumps.  He shudders at the touch of your warm hand bracing his foot, and you misunderstand the involuntary gesture.

“Almost done,” you murmur, and a moment later you tie off the last stitch and snip the thread.  You wrap his toe in gauze, pat his knee softly in a reassuring way.  Then you straighten up and ask if there’s any other injuries he needs patched up.

“Goff electrocuted me,” he blurts out.  “With a car battery.”

You look at him, level, but the corner of your mouth quirks in a near-smile.  “You want me to look at that for you?”

“Oh, no.  No.  No, I just wanted to mention it.  I’m not asking you to look at it.”  He’s grateful for the mask; he can feel his face heating up at the idea of taking off his suit in front of you, and the sudden flush confuses him.  Irritates him.  Something about the thought of being exposed makes his stomach churn in a way he doesn’t understand.

You hum thoughtfully, then turn back to the cabinet of supplies.  You rummage around, then pull out a small white tube that you hand him.

“Antibiotic gel for cuts and burns,” you say.   “You can put a cool cloth on…well, any burns you may have.  If there’s blistering, don’t pop them.”

“Okay.”

“And, you know…if you have any lingering side effects of being electrocuted, you should see a specialist.”

Vigilante reaches down and pulls his boot back on, but already his toe feels better.  “What sort of side effects?” he asks.

He looks up at you in time to see that same half-smile.  You peel off your gloves, toss them in the trash.  

“I can imagine where you were electrocuted,” you reply.  “So if those parts don’t typically work the way you’re used to, see a real doctor.”

Adrian Chase is not good at nuance or subtlety.  “Huh?”

You blink at him before you say, “if you can’t get or maintain an erection, see a urologist.”

“Oh.”  He blinks too, behind his visor.  “Okay.”

You turn to leave the room but then glance over your shoulder before you do.  “Thanks for your help tonight,” you say.  “The mission was a success because of you.”

Neither Vigilante nor Adrian Chase ever get any thanks.  He flushes even hotter under his mask, and he grumbles in reply, uncomfortable to be seen, to be recognized for the first time.

To be vulnerable.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Embarrassed

The next afternoon, he’s at Peacemaker’s trailer, helping him clean up from when the police tossed the place.  They are blasting Guns and Roses, drinking beer…it’s like the old days, almost.

A knock at the door then, and Adrian has only a second to pull on his mask before you stroll in.

“Hey, Chris.  Vigilante.”  You nod in greeting, then reach into your bag to pull out a thick manila folder.  You hand it to Peacemaker.

“Murn wanted me to bring this by.  It’s the latest intel we got from Goff’s place.”  

You stand there as Chris takes the folder and sinks down onto his couch, already paging through the information.  Vigilante stands there too, awkward, so he crosses his arms to keep from fidgeting.  There’s a long stretch of silence once the Guns and Roses record ends, and Vigilante struggles with silence.

“I got hard last night,” he tells you.  “And this morning too.”

“Dude, what the fuck?” Peacemaker sputters.  “She doesn’t want to hear that!”

“She mentioned it last night!”

Peacemaker scoffs, twists his face into an expression of disbelief.  “Yeah, I’m sure she mentioned your dick last night.  Sure.  Okay.  Fantasize much?”

“She did!”

“You seriously need to get laid, dude.  Stop making shit up.”

“He’s not lying,” you tell Peacemaker with a sheepish shrug.  “Though I mentioned it in the context of his injuries and not…some other context.”

“See?”  Vigilante says, and Peacemaker rolls his eyes, makes a jacking-off motion with his hand.

You don’t linger.  You beat a hasty retreat, waving over your shoulder as you leave the trailer, and Peacemaker gives him more hell—calls him weird, calls him annoying.

“No wonder you’ve never had a real girlfriend, dude,” he says as he turns back to his folder of intel.  “You say the creepiest shit the minute a cute girl is around.”

Vigilante doesn’t think about it much more until later.  That night, in bed, he lies awake for far longer than he usually does.  He replays that moment, tries to understand why he just blurted that out.  

He wonders if you would have stayed at the trailer longer if he hadn’t been creepy.  His face burns in the darkness of his bedroom, and his stomach twists painfully as he replays the moment over and over.  He replays his stupid blurting out about his dick, and he has no idea what it means.  He never obsesses over his stupid mouth like this.

If he had feelings like other people, he’d recognize the emotion as embarrassment.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Despondent (and Comforted)

Adrian gets himself arrested on purpose.  It’s the best way he can help Chris:  get arrested, get booked into the same prison as Chris’ racist supervillain father, then kill said racist supervillain father.

Easy enough.  It’d set Chris free and make his life so much better.  Allow him to move forward and not be bogged down, like Adebayo said.

Adrian fails.  He only manages to make things worse—clues Auggie into his plan accidentally, possibly points law enforcement in Chris’ direction.  So Adrian doesn’t just fail—he fails miserably.

He’s released that night.  He’s surprised at first, but as he changes back into his clothes and collects his personal effects from the guards, he realizes that ARGUS has its sticky fingers in all sorts of things and probably sprung him with just a few keystrokes.

When he leaves the prison, you’re sitting out front in your car.  You lower the passenger window and call out to him.

“C’mon,” you say.  “Harcourt sent me to take you home.”

He’s too upset to even feel bad about his cover being blown.  He climbs into the car.

“I think I made things worse,” he says, and he tries not to cry.  He only wanted to help his best friend (even if he’s not Peacemaker’s best friend).  Somehow he messed up, and it could ruin everything.  

“Okay,” you reply softly.  “It’s okay.”

You drive him home.  He doesn’t give you his address, but you know it—another screw-up, he thinks, getting tangled up with people who easily cracked his secret identity.  You know his name, his face, where he lives.  Some instrument of vengeance he is.  You probably even recognize him from his job at Fennel Fields.

Outside of his apartment, you park, then turn to face him.  In the half-light from the streetlamps, he can just make out your soft smile.

“This entire ops is nothing but mistakes,” you tell him.  “And yet, we’re doing okay.  We’ll figure out how to handle Auggie Smith.  Don’t worry about it.”

He nods, and something about the barest bit of comfort—paired with your smile—makes him turn to face you too.  

“I’m Adrian,” he says, even though you know his name.

Your smile broadens and you say your name, even though he knows it.  You hold out your hand and after a beat he takes it.

“Good to finally meet you, Adrian,” you reply as you shake hands.  

For whatever reason, as low as he feels, he falls asleep that night with a weird lightness in his chest—because he doesn’t dwell on his failure at the prison.  

Instead, he falls asleep with the memory of your smile, your kind words.  Your warm hand in his.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Protective

The attack on Goff’s house yielded some leads, and the team travels three hours away to take out a nest of Butterflies.  Everyone is exhausted, filthy, and bruised up.  

It’s in the van—you sitting beside Adrian—when you start to nod off.  He catches it the first few times, the way your head dips forward, the way you jerk back awake.  It’s cute, the way you fight sleep, and then it happens.

You fall asleep and you don’t wake up.  Your head drifts towards him, then settles against his shoulder.

Adrian freezes.  

He and Peacemaker—they used to go out together, looking for crimes or bitches or both.  He’s no virgin.  He fucks.  He’s no stranger to touch, and he’s certainly no stranger to women.  And yet…this feels different.  It feels new.

Peacemaker notices.  “You got a new girlfriend, dude,” he points out with a laugh.

Harcourt rolls her eyes at the teasing.  “Leave her alone.  She puts in way more hours than you, asshole.”

“I put in plenty of hours,” he replies, defensive.  “It takes a lot of time to maintain this impressive physique.  Do you know how long I work on my small muscle groups alone?”

Harcourt rolls her eyes again, then returns her attention to her phone.  Peacemaker turns back to where Adrian sits, rigid, as you sleep against him.

“If you get hard, just don’t tell her about it,” he advises the younger man.  “You’ll creep her out again.”

It’s strange, the feeling of your head against him.  It’s not sexy at all, obviously—in fact, it’s a little uncomfortable.  He doesn’t want to move you, doesn’t want to jostle you and wake you up.  Harcourt said you’re tired, and you took a hell of a beating as you fought the Butterflies.  

Adrian has always approached his work as Vigilante from a perspective of vengeance, not protection, so the feeling is strange:  how he wants to let you sleep, how he wants to protect your sleep.  How he wants to make you comfortable.

A quiet falls over the team; the swaying of the van lulls everyone into comfortable silence.  Adrian breathes in carefully through his nose, then shifts his body.  Slowly, carefully.  He leans away from you, allows you to lie against him more.  He changes the angle enough that he can get his arm out from where it’s trapped between your body and his.  He shifts again, gets his arm around you.  Gently moves you—changes it from your head awkwardly pressed against his hard molded shoulder pad to your head tucked against his chest.

You wake, a little, as he moves you.  You blink up at him sleepily, say his name—Adrian, not Vigilante or Vig or V—and your voice is husky with exhaustion.  There’s a questioning lilt to how you say his name, so he shakes his head softly.

“Go ahead and rest,” he says, quiet.  “Everything’s fine.”

You nod, then settle back against him.  It takes only a moment until he feels your breathing slow down, deepen.  He feels your body go heavy and lax against him.  Tucked against his chest, his arm holding you against him, he can smell you, feel how warm you are.  If he moves his head just a little, he can press his cheek against the top of your head.

Go ahead and rest, he thinks.  Everything’s fine.  I’ll keep you safe.

Vigilante has always been an instrument of vengeance, but this is the first time he’s felt protective of anyone.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Fear

The 11th Street Kids have one chance to eradicate the Butterflies forever:  if they can kill their only food source, the so-called cow, they will eventually all die off.  When they make their final assault on the farm, the team splits up:  Adebayo and Economos stay back, while the warriors—Peacemaker, Vigilante, Harcourt, and you—charge into action.

Whether the cow is killed or not, Adrian doesn’t find out until after the battle is over.  He fights off the onslaught of Butterflies, but for the first time, his attention isn’t entirely on his own fight.

His attention is on you, now, too.  

He manages to keep you in his sightline for the beginning of the fight.  He sees you, admires the sight of you when you’re in your berserker mode:  furious and deadly, well-fitted black suit, guns flashing as you empty clip after clip into the skulls of the Butterflies.  

Then he loses sight of you. 

His chest clenches in an unfamiliar tension, and when he finally catches sight of you again, that tight-chest feeling cedes to something else, something worse:  an ice-cold shard of fear that lances through him, settles in his gut where it sits like a stone.

When he finally catches sight of you, it’s the exact moment you are shot by a Butterfly.

One shot hits your shoulder, spins you around.

Another shot hits you square in the chest, makes you stagger backwards as the force is absorbed by your vest.

The final shot hits you low in the belly, and Adrian (who has studied your gear closely) knows you have little protection there.  The icy fear blooms in him, fills up every bit of him until it feels like it’s in his veins.

He screams your name.  He barely even feels the bullet that hits him (“oh, shoot” he mutters, and tosses a knife behind him to kill his own attacker), but then he stumbles and falls, and he loses consciousness.

He wakes a moment later.  He has no idea how much time has passed, but he manages to get to his hands and knees, then to his feet.  He makes his way to where you fell and he finds you.  

It’s bad.  It’s so bad that the icy fear turns acidic in his veins, makes him burn with fear.  With terror.  You gaze up at him but you don’t seem to see him, and each breath makes a fresh pulse of blood trickle from your mouth.

Adrian has never been very good at social situations.  He never knows the right thing to say and if he does, he doesn’t know the right time to say it.  He wishes these things came more easily to him; if it were Chris here right now instead of him, Chris would know the right thing to say.  He’d know how to keep you awake, how to give you comfort.

All Adrian can offer is what you told him the night he got out of prison, when you drove him home.  Now, as you lie under the night sky, dying in front of him, as he presses one hand against the worst wound to try and staunch the bleeding, he repeats your words back to him.

“It’s okay,” he says, and he says it over and over and hopes you believe it.  “It’s okay.  It’s okay.  It’s okay.”

The Time Vigilante Definitely Feels Love

You have no memory of the fight at the farm.  The last thing you remember is the drive there, but everything after is a blank.  Adebayo stops by when you finally wake up and fills you in on the salient details.  

She tells you how Vigilante—who was also shot, who had been blown up earlier in the day—carried you to safety.  How he kept you from bleeding out, how he held your very life in his hands and kept you from dying.  How hospital security had to separate him from you, once you were laid out on the gurney and being wheeled into surgery.

How he still tried to fight to stay by your side, and how he only failed because of his own injuries and blood loss.

“That man is stupid crazy about you,” Adebayo chuckles with a shake of her head.  “I don’t even think he’s really a psychopath.”

You chuckle with her, wince when the action pulls at the thousand stitches and staples that are keeping you held together.  “He’s not bad, right?”

“We’re literally the Island of Misfit toys,” she replies.  “But yeah, he’s alright.”

-----

Adrian is hospitalized too, and once he’s healed up to a point, he starts sneaking into your room to visit.  It’s not really sneaking—every time he undoes his IV and heart monitor, it sends the nurses into a panic—but after Adebayo’s press conference revealing the existence of Task Force X, the hospital staff is pretty tolerant of his harmless shenanigans. 

He helped ward off an alien invasion, after all.  You both did.

You have to agree with Adebayo.  You’ve never quite believed that Adrian is a psychopath or a sociopath or whatever.  You certainly never believed him when he said he didn’t have feelings or emotions.  The guy is nothing but a walking ball of emotions:  obvious love for his friends, a yearning to belong, a sweet desire to be liked and included.  Sure, he kills without compunction, but he seems to love in equal measure, even if he doesn’t believe he does.

When he visits you, he doesn’t talk about feelings.  He chatters endlessly about his and Peacemaker’s exploits—criminals they’ve busted, ways they’ve destroyed old appliances in the woods behind Peacemaker’s trailer.  He talks about how it was when Peacemaker was in prison, how he kept calling and leaving voicemails to make it seem like everything was normal.  He talks about his job at Fennel Fields, all the terrible customer service stories he has.

He discharges himself against the advice of the doctors (he’s healed enough, he tells you), and you think he’ll stop visiting, but he doesn’t.  He visits every day still, and when you start physical therapy to build up the muscle tone and endurance you’ve lost, he sits in a nearby chair, watching you.  Cheering you on.

Adebayo wasn’t wrong.  You know Adrian has feelings for you.  You’re more socially adept than him, and you’ve had relationships before.  You’ve had crushes and been the object of them.  You guessed his infatuation early on, and you can guess that it’s only grown for him since then.

It probably confuses him, you guess.  You know what love feels like.  What a crush feels like.  All that feeling, in so many places:  the fluttery stomach, the pounding heart, the thoughts that just circle ‘round and ‘round about a single person.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have similar feelings for him.  He’s easy on the eyes, sure—but he’s earnest and sweet, a brutal killer with a heart of gold.

You can also guess that Adrian might never make a move.  This has to be unfamiliar territory for him.  You know he’s no virgin (he’s chattered endlessly about his and Peacemaker’s exhaustive threesomes too), but he seems to have no relationship experience.

But your entire short working relationship with him has been give and take.  You stitched him up, comforted him when he was feeling low after his failed attempt to kill Auggie Smith.  He let you rest against him, held you gently as you slept after a mission.  He saved your life, kept you from bleeding out.

Give and take.  The best kind of relationship, in your opinion.

“Hey, Adrian,” you say one afternoon after PT.  You’re exhausted and sore, but you’re quickly approaching your own discharge.  You are healing up nicely.  You have things to look forward to.

“What’s up?” he asks, and he bounces over to your bedside like a Golden Retriever puppy, eager.

“Doctor says I’m good to go in a few days.”

“That’s great!”  His face breaks open in a wide grin that transforms him from nerdy-handsome to downright gorgeous.  “That’s good news!”

You swallow, push down the nerves that flare up.  “I thought maybe we could celebrate.”

“Yeah!”  He grins at you.  “I can call Chris—”

“I thought maybe just me and you,” you cut in, clarifying.  “Just this time.  Maybe we include Chris some other time.”

“Oh.”  The smile falls from his face, and he looks at you.  His brows are knit in confusion.  

No sense in backtracking now.  “Like a date.  Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Oh.”  A beat.  “With me?  Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

What you’re asking him finally sinks in—a beat longer than it might with someone else, but that’s just part of Adrian’s charm.  The smile returns to his face, brighter and wider than before.

“Yeah,” he replies.  “Hell yeah, dude.  I’d love that.”

#adrian chase #adrian chase imagine #adrian chase x reader #vigilante #vigilante imagine #vigilante x reader #peacemaker #tropes-and-tales

[its-wabby-stuff]

Krang Will Rise

I have a couple theories, regarding the Krang.

There is such little evidence for it, that I don’t even think there’s evidence against it. But hear me out.

I think only Krang prime can abolish mystics. It’s not an ability tied to every Krang, only to him.

Thé Krang value strength above all else, putting no remorse into losing those deemed weak. As such, wouldn’t that make Krang Prime, their leader, the strongest? And what better way to deem yourself the strongest than carrying a unique ability that takes away your enemies greatest potential threat.

Another reason: it seems there are three types of krang. The biotech, the warrior, and the interrogator. I’m not sure how much they overlap, but I do think they carry specialities. Given krang brother is most often asked to- spread their krangness. He is responsible for krangification, domain expansion, and manipulating the technology they have (Nevermind how all these abilities make him the perfect match for Donnie)(also think Krang Brother is mute). Krang sister is the most skilled and best fighter. I’m sure she outclasses the boys in that regard. I’d go as far to say she’s second in command, leading the charge while brother krang stays behind (her role as commander matches as Commander O’Niels opposite in war, hence their quarrel). Leaving Krang Prime, who has the ability to dig into a persons mind, manipulate their captives, control the hive mind, and abolish mystic powers. Perhaps rare amongst Krang, this makes them the perfect leader (do I even need to explain why he’s Leo’s main antagonist, his opposite in every way?).

I mentioned how krang brother is likely responsible for krangification, which leads me to a second point. Clearly, from the start of the invasion to the end in the bad timeline, the krangs numbers increased 100 fold. From 3 lone survivors to hundreds if not more. Which has led me to wonder how krang are created. I have two theories: 1) in the bad timeline, the krang in the prison dimension didn’t die. Meaning that when Leo grabbed the key in the movie, and altered time, the resulting explosion caused the krang to be wiped out. 2) the probably more likely one- they repopulated.

Thé krang are clearly parasitic creatures. Meaning their reproduction is likely from a source, that source being humans. “Recreating this world in the image of krang.” Krang possession is simple, and any krang can do it, latch a bit of themselves to a human and start the battle of wills. Krang dogs are amother easier way to make more, a quick process that mangles the hosts body. We see this happen with the foot clan. But if you want powerful krang, with no chance to turn on you, and to truly become one with krang, you transform them.

Raph was found in a bubble. In a slimy krang cocoon stuck to the ceiling and filled with glowing yellow goop. He was going to be turned, transformed into Krang. And he was going to be powerful, his source material being stronger than most. He was- until the process was interrupted. Notice how the krangification didn’t come from the outside, it wasn’t attached, it was growing inside him. And, unlike the other krangified peoples we saw, his eye turned purple. It wasn’t just covered in hoop with the yellow hive mind eye, it was purple. Let it be a testament to Raphs inner strength cause he very well may have accomplished a feat deemed impossible to overcome. The process wasn’t supposed to be reversible, he wasn’t supposed to be able to break free, he was krang now. Krang Prime could feel his struggle, sense his resistance, and hear his thoughts as the turtle fought it off.

Once you turned, there was no going back. You were krang. Your old life didn’t matter. Your old friends didn’t matter. You had a new family. A new purpose to fulfill. New powers to explore. And given treasures for the hunt. The mark of a krang and a fucking massive piece of armor. This way of reproduction was useful when hunting new prey, as their knowledge of the species past through, truly allowing them to know their enemies and conquer planets. Krang can never die.

Then again. I could be wrong.

——————

Thanks for reading! Likes and Reblogs appreciated! Other related theories and stories:

Resistance to Krang; The Shredder armor; Emperym Life Blood

#wabbystuffpost #rottmnt analysis #rottmnt theory #krang #krang 1 #rottmnt krang #krang raph #krang 2 #krang 3 #krang prime #krang brother #krang sister #krangified #Krang will rise #this gives me an idea #anyho #future timeline #bad timeline #commander o'neil #but that’s just a theory

[rozcdust]

The little princess

Pairing: Haitani brothers x younger sister reader

Genre: Fluff, crack

Word count: 2.3k

Warning: Canon divergent, ooc, profanity, kid on a leash, kid close to gang business, jokes about hating men, Kisaki

“Haitani brothers, the rulers of Roppongi. They could get a hundred men to come with just a call.” Chifuyu solemnly explained to Takemichi, nodding in the direction of two men sitting to the side, carefully observing.

“A hundred men?” Takemichi turned to look, halfway expecting hardened criminals with murder in their eyes and prison tattoos, and could already feel himself shake with fear.

What he found instead, was intimidating two men, yes, but one of them, the one with glasses, was tightly holding onto a small child, bouncing his leg, clearly not even noticing the tiny girl trying to braid his hair while putting sparkly clips in it.

Takemichi blinked.

“IS THAT A TODDLER?”

“Shut up about the toddler before they hear you. They’ll kill you.”

Takemichi could only stare as the child climbed into the lap of the other man, who allowed her to adjust as she pleased, with no issues quickly unbraiding one of his braids, combing through the locks with his fingers and letting the girl do as she pleased.

These were the feared Haitani brothers?

Takemichi found that hard to believe as he watched the two men coo at the child, Rindou’s fingers lightly tickling her stomach as the squirmed, giggling.

And why was the kid on a fucking leash?

“Ran! Ran, look! Rinnie too! There’s a pretty lady there!”

Ran glanced between his sister and the general direction as to where she was pointing her finger, trying to figure out who the hell was she talking about.

He really started considering if she should have some positive female influence in her life.

Ah, there, he found it.

The one from Toman, with a mask covering his face and long, platinum hair, clearly busy boxing some guy’s face.

“Princess, pretty sure that’s a guy.” Rindou chuckled, ruffling the girl’s hair as she visibly wilted with disappointment, “Don’t worry though, Ran is also a pretty lady.”

Ran shot a glare at his brother, who merely grinned.

“Luna! Luna!” A tiny voice called, drawing both the attention of Mitsuya and his younger sisters.

A small girl, no older than 5, was running towards them clumsily, in clearly too pretty of a dress and too impractical of shoes for such a task, almost tripping and falling multiple times, yet persisted until she reached Luna, slamming into her with a bone-crushing hug.

Luna’s face lit up as she hugged the girl back, a smile splitting her usually serious face in half.

“Y/n! Hi! How are you?”

“I’m okay!”

Before Mitsuya could as much as ask who this child was, and why was she on the busy streets of Roppongi by herself, a panicked, breathy voice interrupted him, calling for the girl.

“Y/n?! Y/N! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

“She’s here!” Mitsuya called out, presuming the male voice was the girl’s father, but as a familiar, rather unpleasant face pushed through the crowd, Mitsuya’s heart sank to his heels.

The older Haitani seemingly didn’t even notice him, instead scooping up the tiny girl into his arms, pressing her close to his chest.

“Good god, sweetie, you can’t do that, we talked about this! Rin and I got scared to death! What if something happened to you?!”

“Sorry,” The small girl murmured, burying her face into Ran’s collar, “I just wanted to say hi to my friend.”

“Haitani y/n, you have to tell us where you want to go so we can go with you!” Rindou appeared out of nowhere, out of breath as much as his older brother, his glasses crooked and slightly steamed. He glared at the child with a stern expression, “Next time I’m putting you on a leash.”

“Sorry, Rinnie.” The girl mumbled against her older brother’s neck, whose panic finally seemed to dissipate and turn to relief as he stroked her hair, gently rocking the child in his arms.

“Don’t worry, sir! Y/n would be safe with us and my brother! You’d get her back in one piece!” Luna enthusiastically responded, nodding wildly as if that affirmed her statement.

Ran finally looked away from the girl Mitsuya assumed was y/n, glancing at Luna, then at Mitsuya.

A grin split his face practically into two.

“Mitsuya, lovely seeing you here.”

“Haitani.” Mitsuya nodded, acknowledging him, if rather unwillingly.

He still hasn’t forgiven him for slamming a brick into his fucking head.

“Hi, Mr. Haitani! I’m Luna, y/n’s friend from school!” His younger sister grinned, taking a step towards the two brothers before Mitsuya could as much as try to pull her back, extending her tiny arm to offer the Haitanis her hand to shake.

Ran, then Rindou, both took it, shaking it rather softly considering the bullshit Mitsuya has seen them be capable of doing.

“Hi Luna, what a pretty name!” Rindou leaned down to be at a more of an eye level with the girl, smiling lazily.

She spoke too fast for Mitsuya to try and rather firmly excuse himself and his sisters.

He would literally rather lick the asphalt clean than spend a minute more with the Haitani brothers.

“Thank you! You could go with us if you want? I haven’t seen y/n in so long-“

Long time, his ass.

Luna hasn’t seen her friend since literally earlier that afternoon.

The girl perked up, still in Ran’s arms, and looked between both her brothers with excitement.

“Yes, yes! Can we, please? Please, please, please?”

“Well, princess, since you asked so nicely.” Rindou nodded, extending his arm to offer the girl a quick pat on the head. He unclipped one of the numerous colourful butterfly clips littering the girl’s hair, fixing it to hold all the strands back into place.

Of course the fucking Haitanis, rulers of Roppongi and flashiest bastards alive, had to also dress that tiny child like she won’t be running around and ruining the dress.

Idiots.

Mitsuya truly, genuinely did not want to go anywhere with the two bastards, but he was pretty sure Luna would throw a tantrum if they didn’t.

Come to think of it, Luna and Mana rarely cared for men, only liking their older brother and tolerating Hakkai on best days, as opposed to being obsessed with any girl they met, but they seemed to like the Haitani brothers well enough, probably due to their long hair and the fact Ran looked like a living, breathing doll with his long braids and stupidly soft facial features.

Heavy-hearted, Mitsuya took Mana’s and Luna’s hands and continued, now in tow with the Rindou and Ran fucking Haitani, to the carnival.

That was the start of their long-lasting, if begrudging, comradery.

Izana curiously stared down at the small girl, who confidently stared at him back, her small head tilted up to look at him properly.

When Kakucho said the Haitani brothers had two demands, Izana did not expect… This, whatever the hell this is, to be a part of them.

He was pissy about them having different uniforms, the cocky bastards, sure, but he stomached that well enough, no issues there.

This, however-

This.

He knew they had a younger sister, but he expected her to be younger by maybe a couple of years, probably around Kakucho’s or Kisaki’s age.

Not by a whole decade and some change.

Apparently, they did not trust anyone else to be left with her, so they just casually brought her around gang members and let her run wild and do whatever she pleased, as long as she was within their eyesight.

Come to think of it, she was tiny for her age, hold old was she even? 4, 5? A baby, basically, and Izana had to wonder, what the fuck do they feed her?

Clearly not enough milk.

Maybe Izana was just short.

The girl took her tiny rucksack off her back, rummaging around it as she stuck her tongue out in concentration.

Finally, she seemed to find what she was looking for.

“You look sad, Mr. Kuro- Ku- Kuroka- Mr. ‘Zana! Do you want a juice box? Or a snack?” Holding out an apple juice towards him in one hand, a small bento box in the other, she tilted her head cutely, “It always cheers me up, and Rinnie says it’s important to share.”

Izana could now understand why the Haitanis adored the kid.

In his defence, he wasn’t soft, not at all, no ma’am, nuh-uh, not the feared Izana Kurokawa, he has never been soft in his life.

It was just hard to see a tiny child, dressed like a doll, her hair in pigtails with pom-poms, offering him her afternoon snack, and not immediately wish to scoop her up and coddle her to death.

If the other Tenjiku members wanted to comment on Izana letting the girl sit on his shoulders, they didn’t, but he noticed the smug look Kakucho gave Ran.

Bastards.

Now, Mucho and Mochi were never particularly liked by kids, they usually either started crying or hid behind their parents when the two men passed, and honestly? They were fine with that.

You, however.

You apparently decided they were just two huge teddy bears, and perfectly appropriate for jumping on, often tugging on the leg of their pants to ask them to pick you and throw you in the air.

And they always indulged you, because you were too damn cute with your wide eyes and tiny face.

No, Mochizaki Kanji and Muto Yasuhiro were not soft for the youngest Haitani sibling, don’t be ridiculous.

Glancing up from his game of shogi with Mucho, Sanzu found you fixated on him, situated on Ran’s lap as you stared intently in awe.

They were in the Tenjiku hideout, doing nothing at all really, mostly just hanging around and playing games, one of the rare slow days when everyone was exhausted and just wanted to relax.

And of course, the Haitians brought you along, seemingly forsaking the usual dresses they put on you in favour of a frankly adorable outfit of floral-patterned overalls, hair braided and clips added to match, and a turtleneck, fretting about you possibly getting sick.

It was undeniable, to say the least, that you were Tenjiku’s favourite little creature, each and every member, including Izana, practically tripping over each other in a rush to cater to whatever need and whim you may have, constantly offering you snacks and toys, bundling you up in blankets whenever you as much as shivered, and rarely a second passed when you weren’t either in somebody’s hands or on someone’s lap.

Sanzu fretted imaging the kind of spoiled brat you’d grow up into, but shockingly, the Haitanis, seemed to be doing a good job of raising you to be a perfectly polite little girl, always saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and insisting on calling everyone ‘Mister’ even if they did tell you to just call them by their name.

The Tenjiku members did make a competition of who would be your favourite, and even if Ran and Rindou continuously held the first place, the others fought tooth and nail for the second, going as far as to try and bribe you.

They all offered you to buy anything you wished if you just said they were your favourite, but you always diplomatically shook your head, shyly noting you liked them all the same.

Even if everyone knew Sanzu was the second favourite.

He wasn’t even sure why, he never interacted with you much, as he found kids to be sticky and loud messes he preferred to keep as far away from himself as possible, and yet, you persisted.

You insisted on calling him miss at first, not grasping the concept of a man being as pretty as he was, and bloody no one corrected you, as they found it adorable, even if Sanzu was not amused.

After a couple of mishaps, however, you learned, but still stuck to him as glue.

You toddled out of Ran’s lap, who merely glanced at you to make sure you weren’t gonna wander off too far, before focusing again on his conversation with Izana, and towards him.

“Mr. Sanzu? Mr. Mucho? Can I watch you play?” Tilting your head so your nose was touching the table, Mucho and Sanzu both nodded, Mucho already reaching out to pick you up under your armpits and seat you on his leg, but you shook your head, gently pushing his arms away.

“Sorry, Mr. Mucho, would you be upset if I sat with Mr. Sanzu today? Brother said I can if Mr. Sanzu agrees.”

Mucho smiled, barely, amused as he glanced up at Sanzu, quirking his eyebrow in question.

Containing the urge to roll his eyes, knowing his captain will tease him about this for the foreseeable future, Sanzu nodded, picking you up and letting you curl up into his lap.

Shrugging off his jacket, he tucked it around your shoulders, proceeding with the game as Mucho and he both started to explain the rules to you.

“Mr. Kisaki? What happened to-,” Unsure of how to explain your feelings, you simply gestured to your face, “That?”

“Huh?” Dumbly, Kisaki stared down at you, unsure of how to respond.

He couldn’t stand you, almost wanting to punt you across the room every time you toddled up to him, but he knew that would be a sure-proof way to get massacred, so he at least tried to be polite.

Ran’s burning and obvious hatred of both him and Hanma seemed to be infectious.

“Your face, I mean. Was it some kind of accident?”

Kisaki felt his eye twitch as Hanma started wheezing next to him.

“That is quite rude, y/n.”

“Nuh-uh! Brothers say it’s okay to ask men why they’re ugly, but not women, because there are no ugly women! Only men! They also say men are trash!”

Kisaki looked up and glared at the two men, hard, who merely smirked in amusement, focused on their game of cards.

“How the hell are you raising her?!”

Ran didn’t even spare him a glance as he spoke.

“We’re currently hoping for a raging misandrist.”

“Yeah,” Rindou nodded, fixing his glasses, “Though, just a regular amount of hatred towards men would be okay too, don’t wanna put too much pressure on her, ya know?”

Kisaki considered shooting them both on sight.

. . . next

🔖Taglist:

@dilf-city @wakasa-wifey @rinsie @kisekihany @bajifairyy @cryszus @r-xochitl @graythecoffeebean @mukounisuru-gashadokuro @sunahyejin @crybabylisa @yamaguccitadashi @minoozi @trashmemebitch @frogtits1 @sup-zfam @whydohumansss @xashiui @bontens-whore @nqctre @lumi-does-some-stuff @hana-patata @hxked @erza-uzumaki @sh4nn @sisnot @soushswag @kneeapartman @anahryal @reiners-milkbiddies @satsuri3su @aretheea @bluerskiees @luvjiro

#tokyorev #tokyo revengers #haitani brothers #haitani brothers x reader #rindou haitani x you #ran haitani x you #rindou haitani x y/n #tenjiku #izana kurokawa #kakucho hitto #haruchiyo sanzu #mucho tokyo revengers #kanji mochizuki #kisaki tetta

[runa-falls]

cat and mouse - 1

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Supervillain(?)!Reader

Warnings: none -- oh you get thrown into a vat of radioactive liquid, but it doesn't hurt too bad.

a/n: when you think of another fic idea in the middle of writing your other WIP :D

Summary: Every time you try to convince people it was an accident, you immediately get ratted out to the Spider. But really, it was! You don't know why you're being hunted, you didn't even do anything wrong. Yet.

w/c: 716

part 2 part 3 part 4

masterlist

----

Here’s a riddle:

“What do you get when you push an unemployed woman into a vat of radioactive liquid?”

Apparently, an unemployed enemy of the state. 

You were never the kind of girl who grew up ripping the heads off of your Barbies, or a woman who falls in love with a guy at the insane asylum. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

As soon as your head ducked under the burning liquid, you thought you were dead. So you let go and stopped struggling. But really, is there anyone in history who hasn’t survived being pushed into a vat of something?

For example, there's Electro with the eels, and Sandman with the, uh, sand, so you really shouldn’t have been surprised when you woke up with more energy than you’ve ever felt before, though your back was killing you.

Opening your eyes, you noticed you were splayed over a sidewalk, clothes barely covering you as most of the fabric disintegrated in the power plant. Then you saw fire. Lots of fucking fire.

With a quick turn of your head, your eyes followed the trail of destruction all the way back to the exploded building where the accident happened. And before you knew it, you were in cuffs, being questioned by the police.

It’s easy to break out of jail, especially when you can burn right through the iron bars. And it’s easy to lose the cops too when you can scale buildings.

Despite your increased strength, agility, and sensitized hearing, there are several setbacks to being a random woman full of radioactive energy. Your hair, for one, is completely orange. Who knew radioactive juices acted like cheap boxed bleach?

You constantly have to re-dye it back to your original shade and use tons of hair oil to keep it from frizzing up but it only really lasts for a day or two. Talk about having awkward one-night stands…

Unfortunately, your hair is the most recognizable feature of yours so civilians started to call you “Blaze” like some sort of Fantastic Four character. You hate it. 

You also can’t get a job because you’re the most wanted woman in Nueva York. So you resort to “borrowing” some money from rich people who definitely wouldn’t notice or care. And then you got caught.

“So it’s been you this whole time?” The low voice makes you jump. You weren’t expecting anyone to be home. “So you’re the one stealing hundreds of dollars from innocent civilians?”  The Spider-man slowly walks out from the shadowed corner of the office, making the moment as dramatic as possible. 

You quickly close whoever’s laptop you were trying to get into before holding your hands up in a dumb attempt to act innocent. He looks unimpressed by your ‘sneaky outfit’, eyes pouring over the black turtleneck and faded black jeans. Look, it’s not like you had a closet full of options.

You frown, “They’re hardly innocent.”

“Hm,” He slides the laptop toward himself, opening it up to see how far in you got. You didn’t. You were about to give up and leave before he interrupted you. “How so?”

You scoff without thinking about it, “You think a person can make billions of dollars without taking advantage of people?” Apparently, your words amuse him, and a small smirk quirks on his lips. The light of the computer reflects against his cherry red irises. He’s… pretty.

“All I know,” He shuts the laptop and finally looks up at you, dropping any hint of his previous smile. “Is that you blew up a power plant, escaped prison, and now live off of the money that you’re taking from others.”

“C’mon Spider-Man, it’s only a couple of bucks. I don’t have a job–”

“No kidding.” He shakes his head and takes a second to think about something before offering you a hand over the desk, almost like a peace offering. “Here’s my proposition: you come with me and we can get some dinner before getting you back to where you belong.” You quirk a brow upwards, suspicious of his change in tone. “Come on, it’s late. I’d rather avoid the fighting part.” 

“Back to…where?”

“Prison, honey.” 

That was the start of your cat-and-mouse relationship with the one and only, Spider-Man.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #spider-man across the spider verse #cat and mouse

[thehorrorsoftheblackbunnymask]

Just curious in the prison AU how did the character yk react when being arrested? I’ve seen a few videos and some people like yk resist arrest or like make it difficult for the cops to load them into the car and others just kinda let it happen? I’m just curious on how much of a struggle did the cops have when trying to arrest the proxy’s/pastas

THIS MAY INCLUDE SPOILERS FOR FUTURE PARTD OF THE PRISON AU, IF YOU DONT WANNA SEE, SCROLL PAST.

I like to think the proxies got raided, so I'm going to take some inspo from my Insane Asylum AU

Maybe Toby left a piece of evidence that led the cops right to them. For this mission, the Proxies were staying in a motel. It was the middle of the night, Toby's watching lord knows what, Hoodie's looking at some photographs he took of the victims, and Masky's smoking outside. But, as Masky's smoking, he sees bunch of cop cars in the distance. He'd run inside and tell them that they gotta leave now.

However, they got caught. Hoodie would probably be the most willing. Hoodie's the most logical of the group and he knows damn well that he isn't going to get away unless they all have a plan. He'd have the most annoyed look on his face but he wouldn't do anything.

Toby almost gotta away. Toby's had so many run ins with the cops, starting back when he was a late teenager. He would've gotten away to if his tics didn't start to act up like crazy. He'd be screaming, maybe bite a cop or two, they wouldn't definitely put a muzzle on him because he'd been sent to jail before, as mentioned in Part 1.

Masky is similar to Hoodie where he's more so annoyed then anything. But, I can see him being extremely paranoid about what the Operator and Slenderman are going to react, not even Kate has gotten caught and she works alone. He'd curse out the cops, but during the car ride, he'd be mumbling to himself, and maybe even have a panic attack.

Now to everyone else!

Ben, Jeff, and EJ were also caught together. They were all hanging out in a cabin where Jeff killing the current residents. However, Jeff had left a piece of evidence at one of his old crime scenes that led the cops to them.

EJ was dissecting one of the people Jeff killed with Ben looming over him, smoking a blunt while asking him hundreds of questions. Jeff would come over and now all of them are looming over this dead guy's body, his stomach cut open with his kidneys ripped out.

I just wanna note that these guys were the hardest to find because they're not always together, EJ eats the evidence, Ben's killings rarely leave a mark on the real world, and Jeff is good at what he does.

When the door got kicked in, the cops stared at the three in horror.

Since Ben was high as hell, he'd start laughing while saying they were fucked. Might I add, if Ben wasn't high, the three of them deadass could've escaped no problem because the cabin had a TV.

Ben was caught first and he'd be laughing, yelling "Fuck the police" while spitting on the floor. The most unserious motherfucker.

EJ killed a good chunk of the cops, but then his hunger kicked in. He ended up eating a cop, but he was able to get knocked out because of it.

Jeff got carried away and got knocked out as well.

Liu's arrest was actually recorded on live TV.

After going on a minor killing spree in a city he was in, he was seen in the background of some guy's livestream.

Liu's identity was roughly unknown by the police, and they had a few sketches of what he might look like, and unfortunately for him, they had one that was really close.

When Liu realized he was being followed by a helicopter and a few police cars, he booked it. The entire chase was live, and in broad daylight too.

He ended up cornering himself after he ran into an abandoned building. When he realized he was caught, he just sat down and waited for the cops to catch up.

When the cops walked in, they saw him sitting on top of a crate, his head facing the floor as he spinned a knife in his hand, humming a lullaby to pass the time. Tbh with you, he let himself get caught. When Jeff found out, he was so fucking pissed off. When he saw him enter the inmates ward, he yelled and playfully hit him for 30 minutes straight, Liu couldn't care less tho.

#.Prison AU #yandere creepypasta #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #yandere creepypasta x reader #Yandere creepypasta #eyeless jack x reader

[hayateart]

Moshang Arranged marriage AU but with a twist.

Shang Qinghua is forced to enter arranged marriage with Mobei Jun as a show of goodwill from the human cultivators in face of Luo Binghe raising to power and forcefully uniting the human and demon realms. The catch? Linguang-Jun is the one who ascended to the Northern Kingdom throne and is the current Mobei Jun.

Many years ago, when Qinghua was still an outer disciple, there was another transmigrator, a big fan of the original PIDW. Since there was no Luo Binghe yet, he figured he would take his place and make his name as the greatest human cultivator with hundreds of wives. Airplane noticed too late what was happening and by the time he did, the guy already managed to ruin the plot. Which wouldn't be so bad, Airplane did not much enjoy his fate in the original, but the guy made it so so much worse.

In order to avoid competition, the transmigrator threw Binghe into the Abyss as soon as the little protagonist set foot into the Cang Qiong mountain. Little Binghe managed to escape the Abyss after 10 years and mostly crazed took over the demon realm quickly in order to take revenge on the humans.

In that time, the other transmigrator, using his plot knowledge, rose to power and became the leader of human cultivation world. He knew he fucked up, so he quickly threw Shen Qingqiu to Binghe as the man who wronged him (little Binghe did not remember his offender's face) and basically gave up human realm to serve the new demon emperor and thus uniting the kingoms.

He offered Binghe multiple brides, some his own wives, all in hope of appeasing the crazed protagonist.

Where is Airplane in all that? Well, unlike in the original, Airplane never met his Mobei Jun and as such never became the spy for the demon realm. A change from the plot but he did not complain. At least he would not die after betraying his favourite character, so even if the world is fucked, that's better for him, right?

Well, no. The marriage happens. Shang Qinghua has no choice but to comply, or he will be forced to face the transmigrator and the crazed protagonist's wrath.

The marriage is not happy. On good days Linguang Jun simply ignores his husband. On bad days, he reminds him that he absolutely detests humans and the only reason he agreed to the marriage was Luo Binghe - the Emperor found the situation funny. Also, with one of the Peak Lords in the court, the Demon Emperor had more influence on Cang Qiong Sect.

In the meantime Shang Qinghua tries to find out what happened to the OG Mobei Jun and discovers that Shen Qingqiu who is locked in the Demon Emperor's dungeons, fortunately not turned into a human stick yet, also recently transmigrated.

So what happened to Mobei Jun? Well, the same transmigrator who tried to get rid of Binghe, tried to get rid of Mobei as well. He remembered from the PIDW that Mobei was once held by Huan Hua Palace as prisoner and he tried to kill him then and there. As his last defence, Mobei Jun encased himself in never melting ice tomb and is still in the Water Prison, waiting. He ages and dreams, and, surprise, since all he can do is dream, Meng Mo instead of Binghe latches onto Mobei. From his prison, Mobei Jun become a pretty powerful dream demon himself.

Mobei, in his dreams, wanders to the Northern Kingdom often and finds very unhappy Qinghua by the side of his uncle. Together with Qingqiu, they all plot to overthrow Linguang Jun and get Mobei to his rightful place as well, defeat the other transmigrator and expose him to Binghe, and maybe help Binghe as well since he does not seem happy. Qinghua still considers him his son, and since the story is now real and very much off the rails, he wants his son to have a proper happy ending as well.

#shang qinghua #mobei jun #moshang #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #bingqiu #fanfiction i will never write #svsss #mxtx

[rosedom]

a, d, f for anyone you want :3

(also, i'm new to genshin, so i literally know no one besides childe so far... i haven't played in a couple weeks.)

"your challenger has summoned CYNO to the event . . ."

A/N : more cyno world pls ;c

✦ㅤㅤA = aftercare (what he’s like after sex, what he needs from his partner)

for such a tough guy persona, cyno is among the softest during and after sex. he's gone so far under that it's difficult for him to come back up afterwards; he's all soft n' bleary, blinking up at you with still-wet eyes and moving slowly, lethargically. he trusts you inexplicably ! this trust, then, manifests in a clinginess; he's wrapped himself around you and refuses to let go. you need to get a cloth? he's holding onto you and refuses to let you move even a foot away. time to take a bath? he's got you in a bear hug—feet wrapped around you waist, arms holding your neck, his own face buried into your neck—, and he forces you to go about setting the water and the soaps and the towels while he's stuck to you.

anyway, how long aftercare lasts with him is impossible to parse. over most night-time fucks, usually all he needs is to sleep it off; he'll wake you up the next morning as his usual, chipper self. a whole night's sleep or a nap is typically enough. but, sometimes he needs the day: for those midmorning and afternoon delights on those rough days—especially on lazy ones—, cyno will be floaty for the entire day. you could have fucked him over the couch at 10 a.m., and he'll still be rather quiet and endearingly clingy at 6. (you won't admit it, but these are always your favorite days—the days where cyno allows himself to fully relax and not worry his pretty lil' head about a single thing !) this quiet, however, is also his favorite to share jokes in—the silence filled only with your light laughter.

here, he does not try to carry his jokes with his voice. he murmurs them breathlessly into your ear, your throat, letting your laughter wash over him and soothe him. you staying, even after all of this—it means the most to cyno.

✦ㅤㅤD = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of his)

it's embarrassing for the general mahamatra to admit, but cyno regularly fantasizes about you being the general, he the prisoner. he just has so much control in the day to day; he holds the power to judge others, and it is a hefty burden he so bears . . . but, god—imagining being not the hand in control, being wholly helpless under someone else . . . it really, really gets cyno goin'.

because he'd never say this out loud, it always starts the same: with cyno on his knees, wrists held neatly together as he looks up at you with those doe eyes you so love . . . "please?" is all he needs to ask for you to assume your role in charge of him<3

✦ㅤㅤF = favorite position (this goes without saying . . . )

cuddle-fucking, easily. the exacts don't matter: front to front, front to back—all that matters is that he's enveloped in your arms (the same way your cock is enveloped in those strong thighs or his small cunt). fast n' desperate, or slow and so-very sweet—cyno doesn't care so long as you've got him wholly wrapped up in your arms. he protects everybody—it's not so greedy of him to want to be protected in turn, is it? just this one? (these few hundred times?) with you, he's allowed to indulge in what he desires most. it's a good thing you're eager to abide by his every whim, hm?

it hurts my heart to see such a strong man left to rely on nobody but himself . . . please be sweet to him for me.

moving along very slowly . . . i think i may start writing less and less. this event is burning me out more than i thought it would LOL i'm so repetitive . . . (also fun fact 'cos i've had so many 'nari asks ,, i only care for cynari nsfw when cyno is subbottoming 😵‍💫😵‍💫)

21 APR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#ㅤ✦【 EVENT 】 #the note is irrelevant i just #. i've been thinking of them lately . . . #alphabet #sub cyno #cyno smut #sub genshin #genshin smut #dom reader #okee that's all !

[respectthepetty]

Only friends is messy and I love the messy! But then I think about the other messy stuff that has yet to be messy but will be messy when it comes to light!

For example, Like is Sand still ‘helping’ Rays Dad? What with?

Wild Ass Theory -

RAY'S KARMA'S COMING!

ANON! You know I love a wild ass theory, yet I have none for Only Friends. The show feels normal to me, and not as unhinged as I need in order to make a wild ass theory but . . . @nothingsbetterthancoffee, I was answering this ask when your ask popped up

TLWR: Ray's dad is paying Sand to babysit Ray.

And Ray is gonna be really fucking LIVID when he finds out that Sand is working with his dad!

Because Sand is definitely helping the dad with something.

And Sand almost getting arrested to save Ray after he made a pact with Nick to move on makes me think that the something Ray's dad asked him was to make sure Ray doesn't end up in prison.

The dad is too busy to keep in eye on Ray, so he asked Sand to do it instead. Even though Sand has genuine feelings for Ray, the dad is paying him to keep an eye on his son.

Let me allow Dangerous Romance, where we also see the poor boy x rich boy dynamic, to explain this arrangement.

Get the poor boy who is close to the rich wild child to monitor him in exchange for money. It's a win win!

But remember just like his fellow Slut for Christ Kang, Ray is quick to throw out that his poor boy is, well, poor and by extension apparently a money grubbing whore.

So I'm pretty sure having a magical honeymoon stage

Only to find out that daddy is paying this whore to take care of you would really set Ray off.

And to add to this Wild Ass Theory - it'll be Ray's karma.

I'm not getting into the morality muddy waters about this. I'm not writing if any of this is right or wrong. Instead, let me present the facts:

Karma

Boston recorded his friends making out, used it to get Top to have sex with him since he was jealous of Mew, then threw it in Ray's face to ruin his chances with Sand.

And Nick recorded him having sex with Top, told Sand about it who told Ray, who then told Mew and now everyone hates Boston.

Play stupid games (record your friends in an intimate moment and use it for your advantage), win stupid prizes (your recorded tapes, plural with an "s", become your downfall).

Then there is Mew, our beautiful virgin who judges his rich boy friend who does drugs and his other slutty friend.

Who then gets *cheated on by a rich boy who does drugs and sleeps around, then proceeds to do drugs and attempt to enter his slut era. (I'd argue Top did NOT cheat, but that's not what this post is about).

Ultimately, you will become the one you hate.

And now here we are with Ray. Raymond. My Ray of Sunshine. Fellow Slut for Christ. The love of my life! Who constantly degrades Sand by throwing money at him and calling him a whore.

Sand has tried to be a friend to Ray.

And yet . . .

Ray has made it where they can't be friends.

There are twenty million instances where Sand has told Ray that Ray treats Sand like a driver, a drinking buddy, a cook, a therapist, a nurse, and plenty more, but never a friend. There are fifty million instances where Sand has commented on Ray throwing his money at Sand to avoid acknowledging his fuck ups. Then there are another hundred million instances of Ray implying or directly stating that he thinks Sand is a whore.

So wouldn't it funny if this friend group is actually getting confronted with THEMSELVES?

Boston got hurt by the exact same thing he hurt others with. Mew got hurt by all the things he judged others about and is now turning into that.

And Ray is about to experience his own self-fulfilling prophecy because if you speak of the devil whore enough times, he will eventually appear.

#only friends #only friends the series #wild theory time #this is ray's karma #what goes around comes around

[15-lizards]

Imo there is not enough Valyria content out there so I would LOVE to see your thoughts/headcanons on what the geography, city, fashion, etc. looked like

okay this ones a little difficult because even though Valyria is clearly inspired by Rome, I don't like roman (aka greek) architecture for them it just doesn't really fit to me. Honestly its hard to assign any real life inspo because the existence of dragons would have had some major impact on the society as a whole, architecture included

However, if I had to pick a type to ascribe to Old Valyria, my first choice would be a twist on Hindu architecture. I am absolutely obsessed with the sheer amount of details on the buildings (especially the Meenaskshi Temple at the bottom, everyone please go look at more pictures of it it's gorgeous). It's incredibly complex but also tends to be very symmetrical, the styles perfected over hundreds and hundreds of years. I also really love the idea of the spaces being open and well lit, it fits well.

Another alternative is traditional Chinese architecture, with the added bonus of dragon motifs that are already there :D Another type of architecture with an intense focus on details, symmetry, and how the design of a space affects a person. Architecture is a reflection of where a society is in their development, and I find that this could be a good inspiration for Valyria, an advanced culture with the excess time and resources to build things like these.

Woof okay clothing is all over the place I need to brainstorm and tighten my focus on different inspos (also I wish I could draw well so I can blend these styles properly but alas...anyways we ball). The main thing is mediterranean cultures I know that much. The Iberian Peninsula, Rome, Greece, the Minoans, Malta, Cyprus, etc etc all the ancient clothing and traditional costumes from around the Mediterranean Sea. Valyria was in a warmer, damper climate, meaning lots of loose fabric that could let air through but wouldn't weigh you down. Also doubling as shields from the sun. You get the gist I use this type of clothing all the time.

Okay Random Cultural Things Time

Art and literature? honestly really important because while yes this was a conquering civilization, they needed their exploits to live on in wall frescoes and written epics and dramatic pantomimes. I think they were literate, and probably spread written Valyrian to all the colonies, so that they were easily assimilated. People particularly fond of their dragons had pictures of them made and statues sculpted so that they would live on after their death.

Sports and entertainment also pretty big as well. Valyrians were a highly competitive people To Me so I think that riding, swimming, wrestling, racing, and other games were popular with the people, even those in the higher classes. Also fuck it I bet they raced their dragons. A really tall amphitheater where rich men lost money as they watched dragons circle around the ring. Or fight in midair, if the dragon riders were prisoners or sentenced to death.

As for religion, the Valyrians worshipped the gods that gave them dragons, but also tolerated the other faiths of the places the conquered, just in order to ease tensions (and because they had no dragons so why would they worship dragon gods). I like the idea of Roman household gods, with small altars in every home. Statues of the gods of the home, along with any gods a particular family might favor, along with ancestor veneration and dragon veneration. Dragon skulls and dragon masks on the walls baby!

#woah this was really long #spent my entire women and gender studies class doing this sorry Judith butler #asoiaf worldbuilding