#asylum or the final commission

[dare-g]

Asylum (2000) 

#asylum #asylum or the final commission #chris petit #iain sinclair #micheal moorcock #ed dorn #james sallis #marina warner #talks

[stxr-du5t]

The Horrors of Pennhurst

part two

Summary: Pennhurst Asylum was the worst place Sam and Colby could have chosen

Pairing: Colby Brock x Olive Blake (Medium)

Warnings: Angst, Horrible Place History, Descriptions of Violence and Sickness, Shadow figures, Reader is an empath/medium, Hidden feelings

A/N: this, I'm so proud of this, and also part three with all the fluff i could possibly write

Pennhurst State School and Hospital, also called Pennhurst Asylum in Pennsylvania was with no doubt haunted and she could definitely feel it, all the sadness and anger, Olive had read multiple stories about the place and the terrors that happened in there, she saw the pictures but didn't connected it to her dream, Sam and Colby were joking and saying things Olive was not listening at all, she was being really quiet as the three of them walked to the entrance, Olive Blake finally saw the building in front of them, sent shivers down her spine, an overwhelming feeling growing in her

"Colbs" She called absolute terror in her eyes

"Is this the place? Of your nightmares?" Colby asked as they were crossing the entrance to the asylum, he was worried by the fear in her voice

"Is there anything you want tell us?" Sam asked, she looked at the building then to Colby

"No, everything is fine" She said walking in front of the group, leading them inside

Sam got closer and whispered to his best friend

"What happened? She's acting weird" The blond boy asked, whispering as quiet as he could

"Nothing, just this place freaked her out" Colby responded looking in the direction she was walking

"And between you two?"

"Why you ask me that?" Colby said, with a defensive tone on his voice, Sam knew everything about everything, he could read him like a book

"Because you two like each other, she goes with you when she has nightmares, I've seen you two cuddling in the couch, so had Kat" He accused his friend "And you have liked her since so long, it's about damn time"

"I don't think it's the time to discuss that, plus it's just cuddling, I'm not gonna marry her" He gave his final statement, looking at Olive Blake again, walking ahead of them, silent, repeating the dream on a loop on her head

There was still some daylight, so Pennhurst didn't looked as terrifying, but for Olive it still was the worst, they went out so Sam and Colby did the intro of the video in the front of the building while the redhead girl just waited to be introduced, but their audience knew her since the exploring videos

They entered the place, it was almost pitch black, the walls were just as they were on her nightmare, deteriorated and full of graffitis, most of them satanic, the air was thick and Olive felt it almost immediately having difficulty breathing, before filming the history of the place, which she knew it was so sad and dark

She saw a grey shadow on her peripheral vision, peeking on a door, already she was seeing things, she dismissed the whole situation and went back to get close to Colby, feeling protected when he put his arm around her shoulders

She felt a cold breeze on her neck, and looked to her friend in complete terror

"Did you felt that?" She asked

"Yeah... Maybe it's the wind, there's a lot of open windows" He said, to try and calmed her down "Don't worry"

"Please don't leave me" She pleaded to Colby, there have been a while since she had contact with whatever was in the other side

"I won't" He reassured her, Sam passed him the camera and he puted it in a window sill as they were getting ready to tell the story of the place

Olive was in between the two boys

"Are we ready?" Sam asked and everyone just nodded affirmatively, starting to film "On January 23rd of 1903, Pennhurst State School was commissioned as the eastern Pennsylvania state institution for the feeble-minded and epileptic" Sam said explaining the beginning of the place

"A place for people with intellectual disabilities and people with epilepsy to live, learn and be cared for in a safe environment" Colby continued

"Unfortunately, the facility fell into quick disrepair and poor living due to overcrowding, understaffing and lack of funds" Olive continued with the story, as accurate as she read on the multiple pages Colby and her visited the week before the trip "Regardless of their age, all residents were called children, the average age was 36 years old"

"That sounds so degrading" Sam said, feeling bad for the people that once lived there

"People with ADD and ADHD would also be put in here" Sam added to the information they were telling the camera, and later the viewers "About 60 years later, a documentary Suffer the Little Children aired, that finally revealed all the horrors of the facility"

"There was a doctor here, who was called Dr. Fear" Olive Blake dropped as a fun fact, but nothing about that place was fun, just bizarre his name was that

"That's so villainy like" Colby joked, trying to lighten up the mood for the sake of the video

"Yeah, i know, like a Marvel villain or something" Olive Blake responded to her friend, and he just chuckled softly "In one occasion he injected patients with a non damaging shot, it did nothing but cause pain"

"What a piece of shit!" Sam exclamated, the two presents just nodded

"Also the documentary stated that the largest zoo spent 7.15$ per animal a day, Pennhurst spent 6.90$ a day per patient" Colby added

"That's horrible" Sam commented "Did you two made more research that I did?" Sam asked surprised

"Neither of us wanted to watch the documentary alone, so we took some notes" Olive said softly and Colby just smiled at his friend

"Let's start the investigation, we need to make contact with the doctor" Sam said, exited to finally start doing things

"He is already here" Olive Blake said with no filter, she wasn't supposed to say it like that

"Did you..." Colby asked and she knew what the question before he finished "Did you saw him?"

"In my dream i did, and I saw a shadow over there" She finally confessed, pointing to the door frame of one of the rooms where she saw the figure "But it might be a patient"

Silence, terrifying silence then a loud thud, followed by heavy footsteps

"He's here, somewhere" Olive announced to the group "I think we should put a rempod in the main hallway just in case"

Sam took a rempod out of the backpack they have been carrying with them, set it and waited far away, then Colby set a couple of cat balls

"Those never work" Sam said pointing at the cat balls

"Those heavy footsteps might make it go off" Colby explained and Olive nodded behind the camera

"Great thinking, that was what I was going to say" She praised Colby, and he felt proud of himself "Ok, if there is any patient, doctor or nurse roaming this hallways can you get close to the device here?" She asked

"That's so specific"

"We don't need any more attachments from demonic little girls" Colby joked

"Dude, that's in the past, i got rid of Sally" Sam exclaimed looking into the camera with a frown

"Are you sure about that?" She said and the rempod started going off a lot, as if someone was holding the antenna furiously, the boys were absolutely freaking out as Olive was calm "Thank you, can you step away?" The rempod went to normal with a slight temperature change

"That was freaky, how can you be so calm?" Sam asked and the rempod went off again more calmly

"Well... I'm used to it, i always could do it, since I was a kid, i just chose to ignore it" The redhead girl explained to the boys "I can't keep running away from it"

"True, we have a human rempod now, sweet!" Sam exclaimed exited

"No" Colby said out of nowhere, with that protective tone in his voice, same that comes after those nightmares and comforts her in the night "She is our friend and roommate, we can't use her to get evidence, at least not if she doesn't want to"

Olive Blake felt her stomach flutter, because of the brunette's words

"I'm already here, let's keep going until i feel dizzy" She smiled at both of them sincerely

The three of them walked down the hallway, Sam had the EMF and Colby held the camera switching with the blond boy every now and then, Olive was holding the ovilus and it was off, she got lured into the punishing room by voices asking for help and never noticed when the boys disappeared but she was all alone in one of the most haunted places, she had an urge to cry and run but she stood in the room for a moment deciding what to do, make contact was her first thought, she took her phone out and started video recording for the boys to see later, if she got anything

"Hello? Is there anyone here with me? Knock once for yes, and two for no" She asked gently, she felt a presence, a woman in her mid thirties, one knock immediately after her question "Are you a doctor?" Two knocks, she sat in chair that was close, she felt out of breath but not terrible

Suddenly Olive Blake got overwhelmed by sadness

"I feel what you felt in the moment and want to tell you that I'm sorry about what happened here" She reached for the ovilus on her tiny backpack and turned it on

"We can talk better like this" She said, now feeling a cold breeze again "it would be amazing if you stopped making me cold"

"Sorry"

"Empath"

"Doctor"

"Careful"

"Fear"

"I'm not afraid, don't worry" She got incredibly comfortable now, it had been years since she had a conversation with a non living person "I'm glad to talk to you"

"Malevolent"

Olive's heart skipped a beat but she didn't stopped, even when her gut feeling told her that

"Coming"

Olive Blake started to feel dizzy and nauseous, her fingers felt tingly, her chest closed, making her feeling like she was chocking, the readhead felt the need to run as fast and far as she could but felt like paralyzed

"Guys, what I'm getting from all of this is the doctor is coming, and I'm in the punishing room, so we all know where this is going" She tried to joke about it

"Leave"

"Run"

"Protecting"

"You"

The ovilus startled her, as she got up to leave, finally being able to move, taking her backpack and still recording, she felt tired but she had to find Sam and Colby, Olive just needed a hug as she felt drained mentally and physically

"I'm leaving, thank you so much for talking to me tonight, but you are not allowed to follow us home" She walked down to long hallways, starting to think like Sam and Colby to find them, top floor was her first thought, the most active area, she was just there, basement, no fucking way she was getting there, her mind was racing as she was afraid to look somewhere in case the doctor was lurking, the ovilus was long dead after she left the room and then out of nowhere

"You"

"Supposed"

"Aren't"

"Be"

"To"

"You aren't supposed to be here" Olive whispered to herself, now desperate to find Colby "just like in my nightmare, curious"

"He"

"In"

"Danger"

"Is"

The ovilus spoke again, words that made her think of Colby, she really wished no one pull of his hoodie or did anything to him, she knew she couldn't do anything to prevent any of that from happening, but hoped he was ok and the doctor was just trying to trick her

she saw a light on door frame and then that familiar masculine voice in the distance

"Sam, this is my fault, she shouldn't have come" The brunette sounded as desperate as she was feeling

"We are going to find her, Colby, and after that you're telling her, you have been yearning for years" Sam kind of scolded him, it was true everything he said but he was not going to do it

"Safe"

The boys heard the ovilus close in the same hallway they were walking, Colby let out a sigh of relief when he saw her, pale as paper, sweaty and scared, feeling his heart shattering for her

She run to his arms holding him tightly

"You would not believe what just happened to me" She said now exited to tell her friends everything and stopped recording

"You scared the living crap out of me, Liv!" Colby exclaimed holding on to her shivering body and comforting her like he always did

"Let's do the outro and get to the car" Sam said, feeling like he was third wheeling, he knew Colby would not tell her, that he was gonna wait until he couldn't anymore

"Let's get home, Katrina needs to hear this, it was a crazy night" The three of them drove back home, where Katrina was with Stas, Olive sat everyone down waiting for them to stop talking and her to calm down from her adrenaline

To be continued...

#paranormal #sam golbach #colby brock #sam and colby #ghost hunting #colby brock fluff #colby brock x reader #xplr

[thedeafprophet]

I look at your May, and I think, "This is a man who I would trust to take care of me when I'm Having An Episode", while still being recognizably and visibly the kind of person who'd run the FL equivalent of Bedlam Asylum. Kudos. On an semi-unrelated note, do you take commissions?

Ahajdjdjgjhjhjshfjgj yep!! that's my guy! Off-putting and dangerous but also I think he'd give good hugs. Oh, to be kidnapped to a fancy hotel whenever my nightmares get too high...

Thank you! Not at the moment unfortunately (finals week for prophet right now lol). I've never actually done it before fun fact, still something I'm pondering on for the future.

#on one hand itd be nice to make thing for folks and get paid for the labour #on the other hand...monetizing a hobby is a complicated area #etc. etc. #we shall see when i am less busy! #thank you none the less <3 #asks

[bisexuallilapitts]

I'm not feeling well and ranting about Tua S2 is my default so I thought I'd put some thought into what I'd change about the storylines for my own (personal) entertainment

Disclaimer I am not a writer, I just have opinions and this got way longer than I anticipated (especially the Viktor bit) so it's all under read more

Luther - I actually don't mind Luther's storyline too much, or what little he had going on anyway - it does make sense that he'd seek out another figure to fill the hole that his distrust in Reginald created, it makes sense that he is once again being used by that figure for their own gain, and it makes sense that he finally sticks it to Reginald in 2x06 - I just wish there was more of that and less of whatever the fuck they were doing with him and Allison (can they not just be friends please god) - I feel like expanding on his parental figure issues also just fits great with S3 and his confrontation with Reggie - and trying to trust someone who has betrayed him only to be stabbed (quite literally) in the back for trusting again

Diego - I'm just gonna be honest and say Diego should have spent longer in the 60s than a couple of months, maybe switching the dates Diego and Luther arrived, I don't know - a little more insight into how Lila got close to Diego in the asylum, and more time expanding on how therapy and his time in the 60s changed him, and expanding on the racism he endured in S2 not just with the asylum guards - it's something he and Allison talk about in S3 amd it's no doubt something they both grew up dealing with

Allison - again, very little Id change other than keeping it going for longer, it seems like after 2x06 racism stops existing in S2 (other than one mention) and so do all the characters Allison's interacted with at this point beyond Ray, obviously there's only so much you can fit into 10 45 minute episodes and the last three barely have any outside interactions beyond the commission but I still think even just one shot of Odessa, Ray and the others hearing about Allison being linked to JKFs death was warranted

Klaus - oh Klaus, I could go on for days about you - I am a firm Klaus joining an anti war movement truther, hell I even like the ghost cult theory that people had going on, I just feel like nobody really knew what to do with Klaus in S2 - and he was very much disjointed from the rest of the characters in the way that was obvious - yes he was in s1 and S3 (S3 again slightly more obvious with it than S1) but he was also connected to the main plot, S2 he was doing his own thing pretty much 99% of the season and it only served as more disconnect - I'm not saying he needed to be a main character, he wasn't in s1 and he still had things going on, I'm saying that it's at least expected that if everyone else is related to the plot by coincidence and what else, and Klaus is just there, why is Klaus there? What is he providing? S1, he had a hand in the apocalypse as much as everyone else, and it's sadly missing here.

Five - This is related to Diego too, but it fits more with the Five stuff. Drop the Handler stuff, just completely drop it. She didn't need to come back, have AJ take her place. And if you're gonna bring in the Commission then set them up firmly against Five (and by extension the other Hargreeves) for fucking with time - set it up that Five is dangerous and AJ knows it, that he's building an army (2x10) to try take Five down - his own adopted daughter (Lila) included, no deals, no bargains, AJ wants to destroy Five for even daring to try stop the apocalypse, and he's more ruthless than the Handler to get his way - and let Five get the satisfaction of killing him

Ben - I would say drop the possession stuff but that is plot relevant so maybe change it around to be on a more consensual sort of weird thing Klaus and Ben do - it could still be funny, with the siblings talking to Ben and Ben trying to act as Klaus (for whatever reason) and because Klaus is pretty much a strange character to his siblings already they don't question how wildly out of character he's acting ie "Because that is a thing, I, Klaus Hargreeves, do." "Uh? Sure buddy." / "I think I'm really nailing acting like you." Meanwhile the siblings side eyeing Ben acting as Klaus but they just don't know what the fuck is going on - and just for extra funsies (aka pain) have it established to Ben that he knows possessing Klaus (and by extension anyone else) is slowly destroying him but he wants to be a part of the family again, and he wants to experience life again so badly that he keeps going, and going, until he ends up passing on helping Viktor - and let that be part of the message with Klaus

Viktor - ohohoho where do I even begin? I think the only thing I will be leaving untouched is Sissy and Harlan, the rest? Gone. Personally I am not a fan of amnesia storylines, but Viktor needs to almost end the world somehow, right, and come to terms with his childhood trauma and the end of S1 somehow and doing it off screen hardly seems fair

I'm so glad you asked :) so Viktor, following have a gun go off by his ear and getting hit by a car goes deaf in one ear and it's affecting his powers obviously cause they're related to hearing at least somewhat - he's losing control, or can't make them work when he wants and he feels like the progress he made is thrown back as well as feeling conflicted and guilty for using them after what happened, after almost killing Allison - but still angry at his siblings for what they did and a lot of conflicting emotions also fuelling his powers being out of control

He's desperately trying to hide his powers (not the LGBTQ+ Merlin metaphor) from Sissy, Harlan and Carl and maintain the life he's created in the 60s but it's growing increasingly more difficult and only adding to his stress

So when he sees Luther again, he's obviously feeling a lot - happy to see someone he knows, anger, pained, guilty, confused - maybe even feeling like an outcast again, assuming that they all knew where each other was this entire time and left him out again - and leaves before Luther can talk to him, the conflicting emotions and his powers make something happen in Sissy's house (idk maybe something breaks enough to scare Viktor into leaving before he thinks he'll hurt someone else) and bumping into the Swedes and meeting Five again, and this time they properly talk it out - Viktor seeing the hurt he caused Five during his years in the apocalypse, even if the events that led to the apocalypse weren't only his fault, he admits fault for his part in it, and Five, aptly says something like, "You were a cog in a machine, Viktor. If not you, it would've been someone else, the Commission made sure of that." And it's clear they've at least talked it out somewhat to be able to trust each other

The second Luther and Viktor reunion is still hard - Luther apologises like in canon, and Viktor is wary of his sincerity, pointing out the last time he trusted Luther he was locked in the basement - Luther admits that he has no reason to be trusted, but he'll prove it to Viktor if he can - and it's cautious predicament with the two of them from here on out, eventually Viktor and Luther both realising the positions they were manipulated into by Harold and Reginald (and Pogo) and their own actions respectively

The other reunions and slightly less tense - Diego and Viktor's being the most tense of the remaining three - but again, they both apologise - Diego's therapy and Viktor's own realisations with the apocalypse playing a part, and it's slightly cold but still forgiveness, Allison is still trying to deal with her own problems in the 60s along with pushing down any of the negative feelings she has about what happened in S1 so it plays very much the same s1 to S3 wise but maybe Viktor is more wary of Allison's forgiveness, and Klaus is the one with the least stake in that plotline

So, okay, he's made up with the majority of the siblings, his emotions are under control, and his powers are more or less under control, how does he cause the end of the world? I'm still so glad you asked besties BC here's the plot twist he doesn't - in which I'll explain, so how does Ben still help Viktor and end up dying but it's nothing to do with the end of the world, and what about the apocalypse at the beginning of s2 - it's all been set up to look like Viktor will cause the apocalypse again in Five (and the audiences) eyes

So why does Ben help Viktor and end up passing on? Instead of running away with Sissy, Viktor tries to decide to stay in the 60s instead - it's not ideal but if he can't bring Sissy with him, then he'll stay, it's the obvious solution only Carl isn't happy with that - and the gun fight ensues - the gun going off throwing Viktor back to the theatre and into a flashback - one no one can reach him in - except Ben

And they still have their talk, and Viktor manages to find his own peace with what happened

So how does the world end? Well, the Commission being dickheads and AJ manipulating Lila for a reason bb with something like this going down between AJ and Five

"Today, tomorrow, next week, almost sixty years from now, it doesn't matter. It's all the same to me."

"Time matters, you can't erase all that time. It'll cause a paradox that could destroy the universe!" (Hello S3 hint) "Surely the rest of the Commission don't see it that way."

"The world was always doomed to end, and your pathetic attempt to save it only doomed it and your siblings faster. I'd almost congratulate you, Five, you managed to fail so incredibly that you made my own job easier."

They figure out the Commission are targeting the Federal building to make it look like an attack and start a nuclear war with Hazel's tape, and stop it from being blown up in time, but bad news - Harlan still has powers and AJ's army is ready and 2x10 plays out basically the same

And where is Reggie in all this? Keeping an eye on what's happening in the background - having his own people investigate the siblings and keeping note of their powers which will come bite them in S3 - he's not explicitly a part but he's definitely doing something in the background

And then, Sparrows.

#i dont claim for any of this to make sense #i just have thoughts and again im not a writer these are just my own opinions #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #tua #tua s2 #ill tag as neg just in case #tua negativity

[nicktremblaywayfu]

Personal Emotional Support (18+)

Author Note : Sorry for the long hiatus, schedule has been busy and this asylum patient cultist man keeps running around in my brain like a feral dog.

Characters : Arthur Harrow, You (reader)

Tags and Warning : Unprotected Sex, Penis in Vagina, p in v, Older Man/Younger Woman, Height Differences, Height Gap, Age Differences, age gap, Sleeping with a cult leader, Trespassing, Porn Without Plot, Clit Stimulation, Choking, Cunnilingus, fingering, obsession, short fics

Available on Ao3 as well

(Artwork by Kino Art. You can see the full here but mind you this is a personal commission.)

—

Tidying up your blazer while striding through the hospital’s corridor, the nurses greeted and welcomed you in the facility. You smiled and nod, knowing already who you’d be heading to. His door was left unlocked, like usual. That’s how he’s always been long before he lived here. Knocking on the door, you called his name gently as you didn’t want to startle him. He might be taking a nap, or lost in his own thoughts.

“My love, my life, are you in there awake or a nap is what you are indulging right now ?” 

“I am awake as a deer on the shiny day. Come in, my loved soul.”

You gently opened the door, smiling as you saw him leaning on the window edge. White hospital outer with matching set of clothes, he smirked as he cocked his head.

“My, you are as gorgeous as usual without fail. " He walked away from the window, hand reaching to caress your cheek.

"And you are still looking handsome day and night. But perhaps you just need a little bath I suppose." You pointed at the stain on his shirt. It was faint, and luckily this man always put his hygiene on his concern. Although perhaps he was a messy eater today.

"I'd love to, but it would be a waste of water if you take a bath right now and only get dirty the next few minutes" He held your chin, aiming your gaze upon him. How hypnotizing those icy blue eyes, like looking through a frozen sea in the clear blue sky.

"You do realize I just arrived, right?"

"And you do realize as well that i can be impatient as well." He pulled you in, closer and closer, lips finally meeting each other, the sound of two folks kissing each other passionately that he grasped onto your shoulder like he was about to fall. You closed the door behind you with your feet, moving along with him as he devoured your mouth whole. Exploring every inch inside, his tongue felt like a new explorer in a cave. He groaned slightly as your tongue met his, dancin to each other and overlapping for the top position. 

 His hands found their way under your blazer, sliding slowly down the curve of your waist. His tongue traced the outline of your bottom lip which led to you opening your mouth more to deepen the kiss. As you did so, he took advantage by sucking on your tongue, making it hard for you to breathe. With one arm around your waist, the other slipped from your back to your hair, pulling you closer to him. You were breathing heavily as well, your body heating up with desire as he kissed your neck lightly. He nibbled at your skin softly and sweetly, then licked a mark on your neck he had left from earlier. 

He carried you to the bed, carried you and laid you down on the mattress as he shifted his position right above you. His shoulder length hair fell like covering his aged face, as he breathing heavily in full of lust. He stripped your blazer, unbuttoning the shirt to reveal your bra inside. He pulled down your pants, caressing the soft skin beneath your underwear. Then pulling1 down your undies, eagerly, to see the bare folds inside.

"Careful down there, Arthur. You acted like a hungry crocodile haven't been fed in two weeks." You chuckled as you tried to reach his head, stroking his brown greying hair. He just laughed, with that weird bellowing tone along with the laughter. You have no idea how in hell he made that noise, but it wasn't like he scared you. Quite the contrary, his bellowing sounds sexy as fuck.

"I am indeed haven't been fed by you in two weeks. I miss you, and i want to cherish this moment in my own way as well pleasuring you." He finally went down to what's between your thigh, inhaling it and teasing it with the tip of his tongue. You squeaked as your back arching, with him instantly putting a weight on your stomach preventing you from moving too much.   You whined quietly when his tongue started to lick it again, his teeth grazing against the skin on the thigh, drawing small dots of blood.  The pain, the pleasure, no one would understand why you were willingly to sleep with this...lunatic. No, he was never a lunatic for you. Those words sounded very unpleasant to you, as people often use them in degrading ways. But again, that's what they called him. He's dangerous, they said he was insane for no normal reason. Episodic agony, pain, and rage, scaring everyone including those who knew him more than you. 

What happened when he was on your side, was the opposite. No more monstrous screaming, no more of this patient throwing tables across the room and randomly sucking people's souls. Just him demanding to be served in lust, fulfilling his humane need that he has withheld for decades. Sometimes he just wanted to be cuddled, being the little spoon, or leaning to the crook of your shoulder as you were busy with your phone. He was charming, soft, a true gentleman of dreams. What he gave to the doctor was abstract scribbles, what he gave to you were beautifully drawn sketches of yourself.

"Are you alright, sugar ?" You snapped from your thought, looking down below served with the sight of concerned puppy eyes. His eyebrows shape made him look like a sad guy all the time. You rarely see him with an angry face, even when you pull a prank on him for shit and giggles.

"I'm fine. Just thinking how lucky I am to be with you." You stroked his hair again, with Arthur closing his eyes. He loved it. He loved being stroked on his head like a little boy. "Please, do continue."

"As you wish, darling." There he stuck his tongue out to taste every inch of your skin. From the inner thigh, the crook between, then the main course.  

He sucked and tasted every part of you, loving the sound of your moans and gasps. He kept going until he found your clit, playing with the swollen red bump, stroking and massaging it in his fingers, causing shivers to run up your spine. Goosebumps ran through your body as your toes curled up in sensation. His tongue tip teased it, making it wet with his own spit. Then he licked the whole inner slit, from the entrance to the clit. Licking it many times, then finally reaching your hole after the teases. He did it like kissing with your own lips, putting the whole area into his mouth as his tongue inserting itself in the hole. Licking the inches inside of the wall, preparing your canal by stimulating it.  He licked your walls and tunnel, spreading them wider. Then proceeded to suck your clit, letting out a deep moan whenever he swallowed the last bit of you, making you squirm and shake. 

Once he was done, you were left panting and moaning, feeling extremely sore and needy for more attention. As you thought he was finished with the foreplay, he suddenly jabbed his fingers inside your vagina. You cried with the sudden continuous thrust as he choked you. The slick fluid mixed with the spit made his fingers easily move inside, giving a friction on that specific spot.

"I want you to beg me for it. I want to hear how much you need me." His husky, hoarse voice only made you feel more lust like a pathetic touch starved human. Your heads getting lighter, it's a race in time to either obey or be a brat for him.

"That's- that's not fair- You're the one who needed me in the first place." You pinched his elbow, giving a code to loosen his choke a bit before you actually lost oxygen.

"Well I want to know how much we mutually needed each other." He leaned closer, stopping his pace for mercy although his fingers were still inside.. "Tell me, and we shall complete this moment for each other." 

You wanted to disobey, curious at his own limit. But oh, those blue eyes knew your deepest desire that you couldn't deny.

"Then just do it already, let us shower each other in lust and love." Your feet touched the bulge in his pants, making him groan. He looked at bellow, then you, smirking in satisfaction. 

"Then get on all 4, I'd like to face that beautiful bare back of yours. " You obeyed as you stripped the rest of your own outfits. Arthur just needed to take off his lower garments, revealing the glory of his girth standing up. Just as you positioned yourself, he grabbed a handful of your hair then pulled it back. You mewled with the pain, with him aiming his tip to your hole. Your entrance was actually smaller than his dick, leaving a gape for a moment before it returned to its original size just for him to widen in another moment.

He scissored your folds, trying to make the hole slightly wider. Then thrusting his shaft from the tip to the base. Your fingers curled on the bed sheet, your breaths became shaky.  He kept hitting at your cervix, as well passing through the g-spot stimulating it as well.

"Arthur-..oh god.." You couldn't see his face, but you could feel he loved his name being moaned. He hunched a bit, grabbing a hold onto your breast. Squishing it, his fingers playing with the nipple as well. 

"What a good girl." he murmured under his breath. "You're so tight. After all these times i have entered you, you remain the same like the first time i stripped away your virginity"

Your legs quivered as he inserted himself deeper inside you. A loud moan escaped your mouth. He held you tighter onto your breasts, letting go of your hair to slap your ass then grasp on it.  You squirmed and writhed in pleasure.

"I'm gonna fill you whole and raw, as you belonged to me myself only." He grunted as he started thrusting hard inside your tightness. You whimpered pathetically while biting your lip. His thrusts was rough and fast, driving deep into you as he grunted loudly. You clutched onto the matress, moaning and shaking. His pace became more powerful as he thrusted harder and deeper.

You could feel the warmth of your own cum, coating his shaft. With a loud groan of exertion he came to a climax that felt like lightning struck his whole body. He stopped, taking his breath as he almost drained his stamina. He then pulled out, slapping your ass in satisfaction as his seed leaked through your gaping hole.

"That's my girl" He said, as you let your trembling body fall to the side. "Say, what do you think about taking a bath together ?" He lied next to you, kissing the corner of your lips.

"You definitely owed a scrub on my back for you being impatient." You pouted as he laughed sweetly. No one will understand how you fell in love with this asylum patient, no one but you and him. And perhaps whoever possessed him in his episodic agony.

—

#arthur harrow #arthur harrow x reader #arthur harrow imagines #arthur harrow headcanons #arthur harrow fanfictions #moon knight #moon knight (2022) #moon knight fanfictions #marvel #mcu #marvel villains #x reader #self-insert

[nebulouscoffee]

7, 23, 27, and 33 for the Star Trek ask meme?

Thank you for the ask!

7. Who would make up your crew dream team?

You know, this is something I've thought about before (shoutout to @fancy-a-dance-brigadier for always asking the real questions lol) - but I could never quite find an answer I was satisfied with! Because I don't think taking all my favourites and smushing them together works, they just aren't as interesting together as mixups between characters who have bigger ideological differences. Like, he might be my fav captain but I don't want to choose Sisko over Janeway and Picard, I want to see him interact with Janeway and Picard, you know? So here's a sort of half-cooked, this-would-change-every-time-you-asked-me answer:

Captain: Ben Sisko First Officer: Michael Burnham (I wanna see them interact!!) Chief of Operations: Data Chief Xenoanthropologist: Chakotay (I know this is not an actual position in Star Trek but it should be!! The dude who makes sure dealings with alien cultures are being handled with respect, basically) Chief of Security: La'an Singh (trying to mix and match here) Chief Science Officer: Jadzia Dax (ft. Harry Kim always giving her ideas) Counsellor: Deanna Troi (ft. trainee Ezri Tigan) Chief Medical Officer: Julian Bashir (ft. Kes starting graphic and unhinged conversations about autopsies with him) Chief Engineer: Geordi La Forge (ft. B'Elanna on staff. Drama!!!) Helmsman: Ro Laren Communications: Hoshi Sato Also There: Kira Nerys (recurring character who works with them when it's relevant), Guinan (bartender), Admiral Picard (recurring character that makes Sisko do the iconic "Kai Winn is boarding the station" facepalm), Jake Sisko (son), Garak (local menace), and Admiral Janeway (temporal menace)

23. Favorite tropes?

Character's past comes back to haunt them. Character is forced to confront their inner demons in a way that blurs the line between imagination and reality. Member of an alien society seeks asylum. A peek into the world from the "outsider" character's eyes. Two people from opposite sides are forced to spend time together (and the guest character SLAPS). Captain is out of commission and the unlikeliest people are forced to step up. Oh no the holodeck isn't shutting down and the only way we can save everyone's life is to LARP through this thing fully committing to the bit. Here is a spacial anomaly that makes everyone act weird one by one (either revealing important hidden truths about the characters, or just letting the actors have too much fun). ALL of us have to go back in time together for some stupid reason (and it's amazing)

27. What do you wish they had handled differently?

SO many potential answers- but since it's always on my mind, I wish they'd followed through on the thread of Jem'Hadar dissent. In 'The Abandoned' we find out they're genetically engineered to (rapidly) grow very strong, be dependant on drugs, and loyal to the Founders while demanding no individual rights, which frames them as tragic victims. Then we get a Jem'Hadar character who not only broke free of the Dominion's hold on him, not only expresses but also acts on the dream of freeing his fellow soldiers- and a lead character (Julian) risks his career for him! Sisko tries to get through to them in 'Rocks and Shoals'. They're so clearly complex beings with unique thoughts & personalities & feelings & needs, and are constantly fighting this inhumanely imposed programming that tells them they're just killing machines who live to serve their masters. Even in lighthearted episodes like 'One Little Ship' we see conflict between the Gamma and Alpha Quadrant soldiers, for example. We could've had this be relevant to the Dominion War's resolution! We could've had a defector Jem'Hadar as a recurring character! We could've had Julian finally make that breakthrough & help start a Jem'Hadar revolt!! It could've been so much more interesting (and so much less racist)

33. Whose twitter feed would you most want to follow?

My first instinct was Dax, but I'm leaning more towards Jake Sisko- I feel like because he's the son of a Starfleet officer (but not in the service himself) he'd have absolutely zero fear of authority & he'd just post the most savage things about prominent Starfleet officers and blow up incredibly unflattering pics of all the admirals lol

#thanks again for the ask! unfortunately I am terrible at choosing things (notice how many characters I crammed into that first answer :D) #but this was a great brain workout <3 #ask game

[galactic-murmaider]

The Raven Called Sin (1/??)

Summary: After an incident at the asylum, Jeremiah Arkham finds himself confronting both Jonathan Crane (aka the Scarecrow) and his past, what was supposed to be a straightforward reprimand ends up being a journey through his memories, discovering long buried parts of himself including quite a few skeletons in his closet.

Word Count: 4,457

Content Warnings: Canon typical depictions of mental illness (by that I mean I love this franchise, but mentally ill people are more likely to be the victims of crimes than the perpetrators), mental institutions, medical restraints, tasers, non-consensual drugging, claustrophobia (and general gross invasion of personal space).

A/N: Sorry I kept all who waited an entire year since the wonderful @keithsensei posted the image I commissioned for it, but it's finally out after so much hardship. Hope it was worth the wait.

#IT'S FINALLY OUT! #the raven called sin #🖍️ #fan fiction #batman #jeremiah arkham #jonathan crane #the scarecrow #lyle bolton #lock-up #oc #original character #dc comics #arkham asylum #horror #psychological thriller #mind screw #ao3 #locked in a room #sirenverse

[slothgiirl]

deferred duties (childe x reader)

2.2k. flirting. cringe fail childe. no use of y/n. sangonomiya reader. this is my first time writing fro childe so idk how in character it is ngl. probs lots of spelling errors bc thats my brand. reader is implied to be a few years older than childe (i was thinking early twenties childe late twenties reader). ayatos there too ig.

The fact that the 11th Harbinger made no move to capitalize on the infighting and fractional splits in Inazuma put you on edge. The Tenryou commission continued to be leaderless since the Raiden Shogun had yet to appoint anyone into position of commissioner only caused more strife. Ambitious Samurai and noble families alike saw the power vacuum as their opportunity to rise, haining power and influence following the downfall of the Kujou clan. The peace the Divine Priestess had brokered came with its own complications leaving you in Inazuma City to advocate for Watatsumi Island. This had not been what you had in mind when you swore to protect your younger cousin as a shrinemaiden. 

“With international trade resuming we finally have pumpernickel again,” a noble jokes and you dread the punchline. “It pairs deliciously with salmon roe.” He meets your gaze, “I mean no offense Shrinemaiden. Your people are quite close to fish, are they not?”

This again.

Really. 

There was no way the Harbinger wasn’t gaining an angle. Why else would the Cryo Archon send Childe instead of a fatui regiment to collect a body? This was below his purview. 

“Truthfully I’ve never cared for salmon roe,” you reply back evenly, “the texture is off putting,” you choose a piece of fugu on rice instead, uncaring about the preparation. More than one speculated assassination in Inazuma history had been carried out by botched fugu but you had long since built a tolerance to the poison.You smile pleasantly, barring your white teeth at the man. 

Inazumans loved to remind the people of Watatsumi Island that they were not the same. As if Watatsumi Island was lesser. No. You had your pride. 

Had your people not proved their strength when they alone stood against the Raiden Shogun? Had the citizens of Inazuma City not sought asylum in Yashiori Island? 

The nobleman looks away first. 

Good. 

You’re about to thoroughly humiliate him. His fur trim around the kimono’s collar was Scheneznayan mink, not the prized Inazuman fox which could only be gifted by pleasing a kami and as such the piece would be passed down through countless generations. Of course that’s when the lone Fatuus at the event decides to speak. 

Childe, barreling through political intrigue as usual, tells you, “Then you’ve never tried sturgeon roe. I would be more than willing to give you a tin to try as long as you share,” he winks, smiling casually as ever. 

You had to admit it was endearing how he kept at it. Either Childe’s ego was overly  inflated or he was simply that confident that he could win you over. (Both were incredibly likely.)

Without missing a beat, you reply in saccharinely sweet, “I’m sure General Gorou would love to try a new type of roe Lord Tartaglia.” 

Childe’s smile sharpens, more genuine than his usual patronizing smile and laugh. “Comrade,” he places a hand over his chest in mock pain. “That was cruel even for you.”

You roll your eyes, abandoning the bureaucrats for Commissioner Kamisato. 

Undeterred, Childe follows at your heels. 

A passing thought makes you wonder how true his actions were. 

It was dangerous for anyone in your station to wear their emotions so readily, where anyone could see your weakness. It must be doubly so on the international stage the Harbinger’s worked on.  

Ayato tilts his glass of sake at you, “Shrinemaiden Sangonomiya.” 

“Commissioner Kamisato,” you incline your head respectfully. Ayato was a better man than most, though his interests were not your own, so you would never fully trust him. 

“That’s a mouthful,” Childe notes idly. 

“An astute observation, Lord Harbinger Tartaglia,” you reply pleasantly. Perhaps his aim was less concrete than the dead Harbinger, merely to sow discord in an already tense situation. Plant the seed of suspicion that the Divine Priestess remained allied in some form with the Fatui. 

Childe pouts, “there’s no need to be so formal Comrade. Not with me.”

He was too himself to be smooth in his flirtations. 

It made you wonder about his experience. He was only a handful of years younger than you. Childe was undeniably handsome in a rugged way, tousled hair and easy manner. He swaggered about Inazuma, uncaring of the scorn and glares he received from the shopkeepers. 

There had to be someone who’d been charmed. Some green girl back in his country who could overlook his bloodthirsty remarks? 

“A kind gesture Lord Tartaglia,” you say with finality, wanting to interrogate Ayato now that you had him cornered, “but I only wish to show you the proper respect that is due a man of your station.” Words were such an effective weapon. 

Childe splutters, blinking, processing. His ears have turned an interesting shade of red, darker than his copper hair. 

You take the opportunity to turn the tables on Ayato. “I have heard troubling reports that my requests with the Kanjou Commission have been blocked. I only seek to finally work towards the solution Kujou Sara and the Divine Priestess spoke of when it comes to importing and exporting. It does no one in Inazuma any good to tax goods entering and leaving from Watatsumi Island as if they were from another nation, wouldn’t you say?”

You know it’s Ayato’s doing. To what end is the question. 

“A most unfortunate situation indeed,” he replies evenly. 

“Matters such as these only stall the work to restore Inazuma from its wartime state.” You really weren’t looking to be difficult. The Kamisato clan had worked towards overturning the Vision Ban decree. Still, bitterness remained. It had been your people who had subsisted on rations, who had been on the front lines. 

“I agree with your sentiments entirely, Shrinemaiden.” 

A nonanswer. 

“The Tsaritsa would never allow such an arrangement,” Childe muses sedately, “insurrection and special administrative zones.” 

You frown. Neither had the Electro Archon. Orobaxi has been slain not long after raising your people from Ekanomiya. 

Ayato is quick to craft a response. “It is all thanks to the Raiden Shogun’s benevolence that she tolerates the many forms of worship and cultures unique to each island.”

Childe scowls, “it’s a tenuous peace at best if the nation is not united.”

“Even if it is by force,” Ayato asks pointedly. 

“If it means an eternity of peace afterwards,” the fatuus shrugs. You’d have preferred fervent zealotry to this casual acceptance of the Tsaritsa’s worldview she had no doubt ingrained in every Schenezayan since birth. Inazuma was not as liberal as Mondstadt but questioning the Electro Archon’s will was hardly cause for arrest. 

“The Raiden Shogun is wise to allow plurality among her people,” you say as a matter of fact, “otherwise the Fatui’s undermining of Inazuma’s government might have continued on undiscovered.”

Childe shrugs, “I won’t complain if it means she doesn’t strike you down Comrade,” he flicks your ear which once again strikes you as inexperienced if this is the best way of flirting he can come up with, “I’d hate to see you a charred corpse like Signora. . .bloodshed is more satisfying.” His blue eyes gaze past you, daydreaming of battle and running his hydroblades through a worthy opponent. 

By now, you know Childe enough to write off his words. It wasn’t a threat. You don’t think he’d threatened much, simply get to the point and draw arms. No, this is just Childe being Childe. The quirk didn’t even bother you. 

Yes, he was bloodthirsty, but he was not an uncontrollable mad dog. 

All the same, Ayato takes pity on you. “If I may do so without overstepping, may I have this dance Shrinemaiden?” He holds out his hand, ever the gentleman. Of the Inazuma bureaucrats, you liked him the most. 

You sense Childe fidget besides you. 

“I appreciate your concern over my vows, but I assure you a dance will not break them,” you place your hand in his, letting him lead you to the dance floor. This way you could have a private conversation over the Kanjou Commission’s laws governing Watatsumi Island trade. 

~~

You had arrived earlier than anticipated onto Ritou Island. It would be some time before your meeting with the Kanjou Commission. 

Already, you had memorized the terms, the concessions you were willing to make, and what you refused to bend on. Trade negotiations were not so different from battle strategy. Kokomi’s military treatises applied here too. 

You wondered how your cousin was managing back home as you walked around the beach of Ritou Island. 

You were not at all surprised to run into Childe. Kujou Sara had sent notice of yet another departing squad of Fatui soldiers. In fact, the small part of you unfettered by duty and loyalty was thrilled.

“Comrade!” Childe grins, a touch of softness in his blue eyes you don’t want to think too hard about. (There were lines that could not be crossed.) 

“Lord Tartaglia.” You greet him easily.

He clicks his tongue. “Haven’t we been over this,” he waves a hand between you and him. 

You arch a brow, “and yet proprietary must be observed. I am surprised you are not used to it, given your role, I imagine you deal with the political arena more than me.”

Childe rolls his eyes, scrunching up his nose as he closes the distance between you. “Yes. I’m quite sick of it. The double meanings and bullshit.” You can see the freckles dusting his skin, a light scar on his jaw that was no doubt healed by a skilled allogene. 

“I thought I’ve been very clear?”

“No,” he nods, “you have. Which is why I’d much rather you call me Childe.” His smile is sweet and teasing and you can’t help the way your heartbeat speeds up. 

“There’s no difference.” Both were aliases. 

“Indulge me.” 

“No,” you shake your head, looking out over the water. “I don’t think I will.” You smirk, “it would set a terrible precedent.” 

“Ha, probably,” Childe admits in the same sort of brutal honesty he often spoke in. “Not that you mind Comrade.” To prove his point, he wraps his arm around your waist.

“I haven’t decided that yet.” 

This could never be anything but a fling for you. You had sworn vows after all. It would be alright if you and Childe were on the same page. (His stay in Inazuma was short after all.) 

Childe pulls you close, while looking towards the horizon. With clear skies, you could just make out the peak of Dragonspine. 

His body was warm against yours. 

You swallow, steadying your breath. 

“The water around Inazuma is so clear,” he comments nonchalantly, “perfect to spill blood in.” 

You snort. 

Childe is so. . .

“You’d make a much better Divine Priestess.” 

There’s no way to interpret that but as a threat against your cousin. You turn to look at him. “Kokomi led us to victory. The Shogun’s army would have crushed ours if not for her. Besides, I have no ambition to be Divine Priestess. It’s a huge burden.” You knew how exhausted Kokomi was all of the time. 

Childe frowns. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’d do better. It would be easy enough to defeat her.” He sucks on his bottom lip, looking every bit an excitable child, “I’ve never fought a descendant of a god. But I have fought gods.” An offer.

Only you weren’t sure if this was a personal affair or Fatui plot. 

You flick his ear. “Careful Childe. If you threaten my cousin it’ll be your blood in the water.” It was no secret Kokomi was your cousin by blood. 

“Promise,” Childe asks, voice gone breathey. 

You try to ignore the flush to his cheeks, the fondness in his dead eyes, the way his fingers had tightened against your waist, digging into your skin. It was hard when your own skin felt aflame. His attention, knowing Childe wanted you so clearly; it made your thoughts all fuzzy. 

“That is how threats work,” you pause, “Childe.”

He grins, leaning in, meaning to kiss you. Instead, Childe bumps your nose with his. 

You wince. Not that he’d put you off. No. You liked Childe. You could be honest with yourself about that much. His eagerness; the way he spoke candidly; the expanse of pale freckled skin visible along his abdomen: it was a pity about the Harbinger business. Still, a fling wouldn’t hurt. Childe’s inexperience sent sparks down your spine as you imagined what it would be like to teach him how to please you: to bite down on his bottom lip until it bled. 

Childe flushes scarlett as he steps away. He rubs your nose bridge with his thumb, “apologies comrade.” He attempts to play it off, chuckling, but his eyes keep flicking from your face to the ground. 

You can’t help yourself. You reach up, pinching his cheek, “Eager aren’t we?” 

“Heh. Well yeah.” The ginger man practically swoons. 

You laugh, patting his cheek before indulging yourself and raking your fingers through his moussed hair. “So you are self aware.”

“I wouldn’t make a fool of myself for just anyone.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Or offer to usurp their Priestess cousin,” you reply archly, shoving him away.

Childe blinks. He looks you over. “You’re right. A woman like you,” he licks his lips, “you’d be the Divine Priestess if you wanted to already.”

Ignoring the heat under your skin, you turn away from him, intent on resolving actual matters and not arriving late to your meeting. (It was more fun this way.)

You didn’t want to think about how you’d miss Childe when the last of the Fatui troops loose on Inazuma soil (illegally all thanks to Signora) were rounded up and expelled from your country.

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #childe x you #deferred duties #idk why alliterations always do it for me when i write #reader is wrong hes def slept w ppl but hes also a loser and not often #reader having slight corruption kink at a harbinger theyre both a lil unhinged #probs has incorrect lore

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Key to My Heart

Summary: In the Buffy the Vampire Slayer tie-in book "Prime Evil," the villain named Shugra--who posed as a Sunnydale High teacher--messed with Buffy's mind some (in sensing that she could be a threat to her plans, and wanting to shake her confidence) and gave her panic attacks around her. And in not being able to sense anything wrong with her, Buffy began to think that she was going insane for having such a reaction around her. The night the threat is vanquished--and she and Angel are relaxing, just trying to catch their breath--Angel asks Buffy why she never told him that she doubted herself in such a way. (You don't need to read "Prime Evil" to understand this fanfic.) Set during Buffy S3. Bangel. Birthday gift for @bisexualblckcanary.

Key to My Heart

Buffy was spending time in the mansion with Angel, after the defeat of Shugra.

The Slayer knew it was probably getting old to think such things—and surely cliché—but she really hadn’t been sure that they were going to be able to win this one. The witch had been super powerful: much more than Amy Madison’s mother had been. And she’d had so many of Sunnydale’s youth under her thumb, willing to give her power in order to see their “wildest dreams come true.” And many of her followers had been powerful, themselves, like Michael and Anya. And when the witch had put Willow out of commission, so that she couldn’t use any spells, Buffy had thought there’d be no way to stop Shugra’s plans for the Hellmouth.

But they’d persevered, once again. This time, because she and Angel had been willing to dip their toes into spellcasting. And the others—including Buffy’s own mother—had given Buffy their strength once more and it had been enough to see everything done, once Willow had convinced Shugra’s followers to not buy what the sorceress was selling.

"Buffy… was it because you think I'm crazy—the Angelus part of me, I mean--that made you not tell me you thought you were losing your mind before?" Angel asked completely out of the blue, as he lied behind her on the couch and continued to stroke her hair, much like he had earlier in the night before they went into the final battle against the woman.

She knew what Angel was talking about, of course: another of her absolute favorite traits about this villain, Buffy thought sarcastically: she somewhat messed with the Slayer’s mind at the start of everything to make her doubt herself. And that was something Buffy hadn’t realized she was doing at the time; and since she had sensed nothing about the threat—her usual spidey sense not tingling—to explain why she was giving her panic attacks, Buffy had thought she was losing it.

"Of course not, Angel,” Buffy was quick to reassure her boyfriend, gently rolling towards him and cupping his face now. She knew how sensitive he was about how he’d been when he… wasn’t himself. And understood why he was questioning her about this.

People were supposed to be honest with each other if they dated, weren’t they? And while the two of them sometimes did have trouble with that, Buffy knew that they both aimed for that with each other, and of course wanted it to be an aspect of their relationship. If she’d known Angel hadn’t told her something like this, she would have been curious, too.

That, however, didn’t mean that she was exactly comfortable talking about it now. Or that she was entirely happy that he’d brought it up, when they were supposed to be relaxing, forgetting all of the Shugra stuff. Even if she did understand it.

“So, then what-” Angel started, moving gently so that Buffy was now sitting on the sofa, and then following suit. He looked at her with penetrating, confused eyes. But Buffy was already cutting his question off with, “Thinking there was maybe something wrong with me… was something I could barely face.” It was enough that Buffy had been in an Insane Asylum once, when her parents had thought she’d gone coocoo for Cocoa Puffs—and a part of Buffy wondered if Angel knew about that, since it seemed that he’d been around when she’d first been Called in L.A.—so she’d only just been able to tell her Watcher about all of that. So to then tell Angel that there was something wrong with her? Buffy hadn’t even been able to imagine it.

“…And I wanted you to know it least of all,” Buffy finished lamely. And only after she said the words, did she realize that it was lame. Because surely, Angel would tell her that it was exactly when she was hurting so much, and clearly needed him, that she should tell him things the most.

But Angel seemed to show mercy on her—perhaps realizing that she really did want to return to the lighter mood of the night—as he smiled ever so slightly and attempted to play it off with, "…I guess that makes sense. It would kind of be like me when I didn’t want my parents to know I did badly on a test."

Buffy had to blink at Angel owlishly at least three times before she laughed slightly, because she did know Angel was trying to make her feel better about everything tonight, and pushed her boyfriend in the arm. After all, it wasn’t like him to be so tactless. Usually, it was her. "Wow, Angel. I can't believe you made that comparison. But knowing you're from a time where people didn't talk about their feelings—and also what a big deal bad marks would have been with stricter parents, I guess—I suppose I’ll allow it.”

“Just as long as I know I am ‘allowed’ things,” Angel said shyly now, playing with Buffy’s left hand and refusing to meet Buffy’s eyes. Even though he was twisting some of her last words, Buffy thought she understood what he was asking: “Would she try to tell him things from now on?” Especially since she had gotten around to explaining all of this eventually?

Well, Buffy did think that honesty was the best policy, of course. Some of her and Angel’s problems in the past were no doubt because they hadn’t spoken enough.

And Willow, recently, hadn’t been wrong, when she’d told Buffy “that’s how it should be,” about her and Angel really talking after he’d ripped out the heart of a demon and fed it to her.

So Buffy found that definitely she could agree to this, so long as Angel understood that there would be times that she might need time to organize her thoughts first.

“Of course you’re allowed the key to my heart, honey,” Buffy replied, putting her hands on her hips. She tried to say it in a matter-of-fact way, so it seemed less like she was quoting some cheesy romance novel or one of those Japanese cartoons that Xander loved so much, but she supposed she still might have sounded like one of those.

Because, after all, what she’d said was just too true. She was in love, after all.

And even when Angel would eventually stand a far distance away from her, and stare her down before leaving to go to L.A.—breaking her heart into a million microscopic pieces in the process—it would still be true.

Author's Note: I started this fic a long time ago, but while I could figure out the main parts of the conversation I wanted these two to have, I had a hard time with the things beyond that: namely the ending. I’m still not entirely sure, but whatever. I will say it’s better than some things I tried.

I just really wanted to finish this fic for bisexualblckcanary on Tumblr’s birthday this week. I hope you like it, honey:)

#buffy the vampire slayer #bangel #btvs #buffy #buffy summers #angel #based on the buffy book prime evil but you don't need to read that #buffy season 3 #buffy series 3 #buffy season 3/buffy series 3 #fluff #oneshot #canon #canon compliant #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #gift fic #bisexualblckcanary #mine #my work #shanna's various forms of art #shanna writes

[mariacallous]

After decades talking tough on immigration and a year after becoming Italy’s most right-wing prime minister since the Second World War, Giorgia Meloni finds herself dealing with a surge in arrivals from Africa that is sorely testing her electoral pledge to keep irregular migrants away from Italian shores.

With political instability, war, poverty, and global warming plaguing much of Africa and the Middle East, more than 140,000 migrants have already reached Italy by boat this year, almost twice as many as in the whole of 2022. Thousands more lost their lives during the journey. Last month, 7,000 people arrived over just a couple of days in Lampedusa, a small Italian island between Malta and Tunisia that has become a flash point of Europe’s migrant crisis, overwhelming reception facilities there.

As the European Union reels from Islamist attacks in the French city of Arras and in Brussels, which highlighted the shortcomings of its migration system, and amid heightened security concerns linked to the war between Israel and Hamas, Meloni’s immigration woes show the struggles of populist leaders with so-called easy solutions confronted with the reality of government. More than 70 percent of Italians believe that Meloni has done less than she had promised on immigration, and 66 percent say the government is not capable of handling the issue.

“This is a big problem for Meloni,” said Matteo Villa, a senior research fellow at the Italian Institute for International Political Studies. “The government is under a lot of pressure.” 

Right-wing populists around the world are often accused of selling simplistic, unrealistic fixes to complex problems, especially immigration. Former U.S. President Donald Trump never did build the wall, though his successor still aims to do so. Britain continues to be reached by tens of thousands of irregular migrants every year well after pro-Brexit right-wingers convinced it to break away from the EU to “take back control” of its borders. France’s centrist President Emmanuel Macron repeatedly trounced far-right leader Marine Le Pen in presidential debates by laying bare the incoherence of her program. 

Italy, meanwhile, is the main point of arrival for migrants leaving from countries such as Libya and Tunisia in a bid to reach Europe by sea. During last year’s electoral campaign, Meloni claimed that “illegal immigration threatens citizens’ security and quality of life” and promised to stem the influx. Her proposals included establishing an EU “naval blockade” off North Africa’s coasts as well as setting up EU immigration centers in Africa to evaluate people’s asylum requests there.

One year on, Meloni’s government and her voters are facing a harsh reality check. 

An Italy-sponsored deal struck by the EU and Tunisia in the summer, entailing the payment of hundreds of millions of euros to the country in exchange for its help to stop departures, appears to be faltering, with Tunisian strongman Kais Saied saying this month that he will not accept any “charity.”

Meanwhile, despite some vague pledges from the European Commission to step up border surveillance, the kind of massive military operation that would be required to “blockade” large stretches of Africa’s Mediterranean coasts is nowhere near to becoming reality. Finally, repatriations of failed asylum-seekers, which over the past decade hovered at a dismal 18 percent of all those ordered to leave Italy, have only slightly grown on Meloni’s watch compared to last year.

In a bid to maintain support from hard-line voters, the Italian government—which includes Meloni’s post-fascist Brothers of Italy party, as well as the far-right League and the conservative Forza Italia—has resorted to a mix of blame game and headline-grabbing announcements.

Senior right-wing figures recently lambasted Germany over its public funding to a nongovernmental organization rescuing migrants in the Mediterranean, which the Italian government says incentivizes human trafficking. The NGO’s ship has rescued and disembarked 753 people in Italy this year, barely 0.6 percent of total sea arrivals, yet Meloni formally complained to her German counterpart, Olaf Scholz, with a letter leaked to the press, while a top League member alleged that the German left-wing government was seeking to make Meloni’s cabinet look bad by “filling us up with illegals.”

But Meloni’s government has done more than rant. Over the past year, it has approved a slate of measures including tougher punishments for smugglers, stricter procedures to grant humanitarian protection, and more detention centers and longer detention periods for rejected asylum-seekers awaiting deportation.

“For years, center-left governments have simply been passive toward a phenomenon that, on the contrary, we are governing,” said Sara Kelany, a member of parliament with Brothers of Italy. 

Critics say most of these actions will achieve little but make asylum-seekers even more miserable than they already are. “Initial reception is being blended with a detention system,” said Fabrizio Coresi, a migration expert at Action Aid, a human rights NGO. And due to the lack of agreements between Italy and many of the migrants’ countries of origin, rejected asylum-seekers often can’t be deported, and after being locked up for a certain period, they are simply released. The government has also run into legal trouble, facing adverse rulings in recent weeks on parts of its asylum policy.

“These are measures adopted with an eye on the government’s base, rather than actual solutions,” said Lorena Stella Martini, a migration analyst based in Milan.

Meloni may be achieving better results on the European level, where she can take some credit with her electorate for putting the migrant issue back on top of the agenda. EU Commission President Ursula von der Leyen accompanied Meloni to Tunisia over the summer and visited Lampedusa last month, aligning herself with the Italian prime minister on the need for urgent action to reduce arrivals and promising “a coordinated response.”

The EU is also making progress on a new pact on immigration, which entails stricter procedures for asylum-seekers coming from countries deemed safe, looser rules to expel rejected applicants, and the transfer of thousands of migrants from front-line countries, such as Italy, Greece, and Spain, to other member states—which would otherwise have to pay thousands of euros for every asylum-seeker they refuse to take. 

“For the first time in years, the majority of European countries are converging toward the Italian stance,” said Kelany, the Italian parliament member.

It might be less than a blessing. Experts note that the deal, which confirms the rule that most migrants should be processed by the country of first arrival, is less of an Italian triumph than an own goal. “Meloni’s diplomatic victory is being able to show that everybody in the EU now accepts that the objective is curbing irregular immigration,” said Villa, the research fellow, “but then when you look at the policies that are being discussed [from an Italian perspective], if they were actually implemented, it would be a disaster.”

And yet, for all the grumbling over her handling of immigration, Meloni’s party continues to top the polls with an almost 10-point lead. That might be because Italy’s so-called migrant crisis is not as bad as it seems. Since many migrants end up moving on to other countries, over the past decade, the total number of foreigners in Italy has actually remained stable. Italy has half as many residents born outside the EU as Germany, and 2 million fewer than France, which has only a slightly larger population.

Italy could even use more immigration: Over the summer, Meloni’s government quietly approved the entry of almost half a million non-EU workers by the end of 2025 to fill gaps in the Italian labor market.

The bigger question is how long her voters’ patience will last. “Despite the talk of stopping immigration flows and carrying out mass expulsions of irregular migrants, neither one will happen or is even possible,” said Martini, the expert from Milan.

[dare-g]

Asylum (2000)

#asylum #chris petit #iain sinclair #micheal moorcock #ed dorn #james sallis #marina warner #talks #asylum or the final commission

[beardedmrbean]

Poland and Hungary have blocked a joint declaration on migration policy after an informal gathering of European Union leaders in Granada, Spain, on Friday.

Their disagreement comes despite an earlier agreement among the bloc's diplomats this week to present a migration reform package to the European Parliament, aiming to share responsibility for undocumented arrivals better.

Hungarian Prime Minister Victor Orban insisted the decisions should have been taken by consensus.

Polish Prime Minister Mateusz Morawiecki also rejected reference to the migration policy in the Granada summit's joint statement.

French President Emmanuel Macron said though Poland and Hungary disagreed with EU migration policy, it did not necessarily mean that any final deal on the matter would be blocked.

German Chancellor Olaf Scholz rejected Poland and Hungary's stance. 

"I am convinced that the rules which we agree on with each other will then also apply to everyone," he said.

The summit's statement only addressed the other issue on the agenda, the bloc's enlargement.

European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen insisted, "the accession process to the European Union is a merit-based one."

Speaking after the meeting, she said there were "no short cuts" regarding this accession process.

[huesohnobro]

You Don't Love Her

Chapter 5: Nightcrawler

Content Warning: Wanda Being Traumatized, Wanda being kind of a bitch ngl

When you came back to your senses, all you could feel was a sick sense of violation, as if the most sacred of places had been invaded and ransacked. In a way, it was, your mind was just that: yours, not some witch’s plaything. Staring up at the ceiling of the room ‒the cell you had been placed “oh-so-delicately” into‒ you laid on the ground begging and praying to yourself for your brain to finally shut itself off. All you wanted, all you needed was a moment's reprieve from eyes the color of freshly tilled soil, from a voice with the power to make even Odysseus’ crew, with their ears filled with wax, fling themselves into the wine-dark sea.

That was all over now, she was long gone. It doesn’t matter how powerful, how divine, how exalted you become; it doesn't matter how many people you conscript into your care, how many souls you aided in passing on, how many piles of entrails your business sifted through and dealt out to the highest and most gracious of bidders. None of it matters, you can’t bring her back from the dead, can’t teleport through hellfire and brimstone into the heavens to retrieve her soul, can’t build a body perfect enough to house what little remains of her personality you could encode into it. She’s gone, she’s been gone for… how long has it been… at least a decade now. Her bones were likely dissolved into the smoke that follows your step, her skin melded with the ground of your personal realm; the realm that became your hell, the realm filled with her aura. It’s only natural that your space between spaces reeks of your first love, it was the place she had died after all, the place you had inadvertently become her executioner. Her eyes were filled with so much love and pain as she…

No. Not here, not now. Sitting yourself up, you took in your surroundings with eyes freshly wet by saline tears. Smooth, white walls, bright lights embedded in the wall, it reminded you almost of an asylum room without the padding. Looking at your arms, you could see two black bands wrapped around your wrists; you could feel something sharp stabbed into each as you rolled them, wincing slightly. Breathing deeply, you attempted to teleport to the other side of the small room you found yourself confined to, immediately feeling an intense heat against your skin. Biting back your scream, you stared at the offending pieces of metal as you listened to the sizzle of your own flesh. So this was what Natasha had meant by less voltage. You could work with this, you’d just have to get used to it. Electricity was one thing but fire? Fire was what you were birthed from, what you step into every time you go into your dimensional highway. As you stared unblinking at your arms you began to grin; yes, you could work with this, work through this, all it would require was a bit of pain. Anything worth doing is worth bleeding for after all, and so you shall stain this pretty white room crimson.

Ever since the interrogation room, the bags under Wanda’s eyes had darkened tremendously. As Natasha watched the brunette trudge down the hall through the conference room window, a subtle concern could be seen in her eyes. She’d have to talk to Wanda later tonight, maybe make her some of that tea that she has Steve buy- The tea that’s been getting restocked by Tony as an act of goodwill while Steve rests in the medical ward. The inventor had been on edge ever since the super-soldier was taken temporarily out of commission; both he and Bucky checked on Steve by the hour, anxious over any potential changes in his state of health. With how whipped up the two were added to the overt anxiety and distress displayed by the witch, it made Natasha’s problems seem much smaller, much easier to overlook. It was convenient, especially as she and Bruce discussed the current situation of your captivity. The team, especially Clint, had taken to calling you Nightcrawler in order to avoid speaking your name directly. Whatever the hell Wanda had seen in your mindscape had her paranoid, flinching at the mention of your name out of the fear that you would somehow hear it. Clint offered a solution in the moniker, after the team as a whole had shot down the frankly ridiculous idea of calling you the boogeyman; Tony every now and again laughs at the name, imagining a blue demon with a camera trying to capture the perfect “money shot”. A gentle clearing of the throat by Bruce brings Natasha back to reality, her gaze returning to the file in his hands. “Honestly, I don’t get why you agreed to switching the restriction methods used on Nightcrawler. The nervous-disruption cuffs were shown to work just fine-” Sighing, Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose for what felt like the 5th time that day. It seemed frustration was in high demand for the spy. “Promising to not electrocute them anymore got them to talk.” “Yes but, it didn’t get the information we needed… we had to use Wanda for that.” “I’m aware of that Bruce, but the current means of confinement have worked time and time again on metahumans. They’re the best approved method we’ve got until Stark can make something long-term.” “I get that but, don’t you think that they’re a bit inhumane?” Bruce looked guilty as he made the comment, Natasha’s disbelief palpable. He of all people would be understandably preoccupied with the treatment of supposed monsters, especially with his own self perception of being one, but this was different. “Bruce, you can’t treat something with humanity if it has none. Especially not if it’s capable. We’ve been ordered to keep them detained until further notice, and to continue with our questioning. If you have an issue with the Nightcrawler’s humanity, maybe you should ask Wanda to show you what she saw them do.” Getting up from her seat, Natasha walked out of the office towards the common room. This whole situation kept piling the stress higher and higher onto Natasha, but it wasn’t like she could step away from it all. Not only was it her responsibility as an Avenger, but she had been assigned as your handler until further notice. Instead of trusting the issue to someone new and risking the potential of traumatizing any more agents, Fury had decided to take the frugal right and allow for the Avengers to handle you on their own. What better way to show off his favorite task force than by having them take care of a psychopath, right?

Entering the common room, Natasha’s attention was immediately drawn to the soft sounds of a laugh track and a gentle yawn. Wanda was practically curled into the arm of the couch, her head resting against her knees as she focused on the flat screen in front of her; the sight would have been cute had it not been for the obvious exhaustion present on the witch’s face. Glancing over at the coffee table Natasha notes the now empty ceramic mug, the deep red glaze fading into a cream colored terracotta at the lip. It had been one of the first things Wanda had bought for herself, Steve had picked it out for her, saying it reminded him of her magic. Walking in front of the couch, the red-head scooped the mug up and headed to the kitchen, ignoring the confused stare as she did so. As tired eyes watched her every move, Natasha boiled the water and spooned honey into two separate mugs; during the process she made sure to note the brand of tea. It was an organic blend, the leaves staining the water with an amber haze and perfuming the air with the scent of lavender. “Natasha, what are you doing?” Wanda’s gaze tailed after the ex-assassin, apprehension practically glinting off of her eyes as Natasha handed her the mug of tea. The red-head shrugged, watching the animated intro of Bewitched play out before turning back to Wanda. The Widow’s soft smile was disarming, if Wanda didn’t know better she would think it was purposefully so. Maybe Wanda shouldn’t know better, maybe knowing puts you at a disadvantage. Then again, wasn’t she always at a disadvantage against Natasha? Why not let her gain the upper hand again. Taking a sip of her tea, Wanda watched as Natasha shifted her body towards her. “Well I figured you could use a tea party, even if it’s not 3 am. You said it helps you relax right?” “I did, but I am already relaxed, I don’t exactly see what you’re here for Natasha.” The red head scoffed, raising an eyebrow and looking over Wanda’s slightly disheveled appearance. Looking behind Wanda’s shoulder, Natasha stiffened up and reached for her belt, watching as Wanda’s eyes were immediately overtaken by red as her head whipped around, the tea mugs and scalding liquid floating in the air; all for an empty space behind the two. As the tea returned to its proper place into the women’s hands, Natasha cocked her head to the side and chuckled softly. “So relaxed Wands. Seriously, what's wrong?”

Sighing deeply, Wanda leaned forward and placed her mug back onto the coffee table, watching as Natasha does the same. Running her fingers through her hair in a weak attempt to brush it out, Wanda’s eyes shift to her lap. Her soft green irises were filled to the brim with embarrassment as she spoke, rubbing her arms to stave off an imaginary chill. “Every time I close my eyes, I end up back in that.. That freak’s head. I can’t blink without seeing their smile, I can’t eat without seeing their.. their monsters… I can’t-” Taking a shuddering breath the witch leaned back against the couch cushions, flinching at the feeling of a warm hand on her shoulder. Quickly drawing her hand away, Natasha wrapped her arm around the back of the couch and waited for Wanda to continue. “I don’t know what to do Natasha… I feel like they’re behind me or watching me somehow or- I don’t know… Is this how you all felt about me during Ultron? It feels-” The spy watched as the red-head’s shoulders tensed back up, her back straightening against the couch. “Horrible?” Natasha knew the feeling, the guilt that burrows into your chest like a mole into the earth; it broke her heart to watch the brunette nod. Natasha understood how Wanda must’ve felt when she first came, the feeling that she was being reminded of now. The uneasiness in people’s eyes, the lack of give a damn as to how someone so ‘dangerous’ may be faring in their new environment, the terror and grief that could potentially fill someone when reminded of what they were. It wasn’t a feeling that would make sense to someone like Tony or Bruce or Clint, the feeling preferred to make itself home in those like Natasha and Wanda. How would the boys understand? To them, there was nothing to fear when you were fear itself; and the witch was practically the manifestation of such fear before you had come along. “Yeah… horrible.” “Well if it’s any consolation, no one felt as bad as you do right now when Steve brought you here.” Wanda rolled her eyes as the corner of her mouth lifted, her eyes shifting to the sitcom playing in front of the two. “I don’t know what to do Tash… I need help.” Green met green, Natasha’s mind caught on the usage of a nickname before refocusing on the conversation at hand. Moving her hand from the back of the couch to rest on the top, Natasha took a second to think; all that came to mind was Wanda’s visit to her office. Then again, wasn’t that office visit enough? It had calmed Natasha considerably, maybe she could do something similar for the woman in front of her. “What if I stayed in your room while you slept, to make sure nothing got to you? Or started cooking with you to help take your mind off of things when you eat.”

Wanda had snorted at the idea, actually snorted! It wasn’t that ridiculous was it- Before Natasha took it all back, she looked at Wanda’s smiling face as her head laid back on the cushions. The brunette looked more alive than before, Natasha could’ve sworn she saw a bit of the exhaustion melt from the witch’s face. “That is a very calm way to word a potentially stalkerish idea, Tash.” There was that nickname again, it was different from the usual shortening of Nat… a good different, Natasha thought. “Well, I was the world’s best spy when I was younger, the best Black Widow at that.” Humming, Wanda rested her hand on top of Natasha’s, the cool touch resting on top of warmer skin. “Then perhaps you will make the world’s deadliest dream catcher.” The two women smiled softly at each other, the moment almost felt as though it was in time frosted over. As the two settled in Wanda yawned softly, doing her best to relax into the fabric of the couch. Watching the opening theme to Bewitched play out yet again, Natasha sighed softly. “We’ve got to show you some more modern sitcoms.” “Well, I’m always open to suggestions if you have any.” “Have you ever heard of Brooklyn Nine-Nine?”

Despite the human need for comfort and healing, Wanda and Natasha both had a job to do; a job that required being in contact with sights and people that would bring even the bravest of men a state of panic. Walking into the “containment chamber”, a fancier than necessary name for what was essentially a glorified holding cell, the two women were met with a grisly scene. The air smelled of burnt flesh and hair mixed with iron, maroon smears covering sections of the floor and walls. You watched as the two Avengers entered the room, sitting cross legged in the center of the room, your tail waving on the floor. As they closed the door you rose to your feet, meeting the eyes of the witch with a cool grin and being met with a harsh glare. “You look worse than the last time I saw you, little red-” Your smirk widened at the clenching of her fists in your peripheral, “-is something troubling your sleep?” The witch’s face contorted into a disgusted grimace as she stepped forward, a pale hand landing on her shoulder to pull her back. Lazily shifting your view, you inspect Natasha; her stance was like that of a coil now tightened, ready to move at any moment. Scrutinizing her face, you came to an unexpected realization: The Widow cared about little red. “We aren’t here to get questioned about sleep. You’re lucky we didn't take you back to the interrogation room.” Natasha’s statement made you chuckle, did they really think that was a threat to you? “Maybe you should, I need to get a good look at my hair cariña. As fantastic as the showers in the building are, you don’t carry the product I use.” Your nonchalance made the witch’s lip twitch, her arms crossing as she stared daggers into your skull. “Why did HYDRA have to kidnap your monsters, L/n. We both know you like power, why not work with someone who could give it to you?” It was your turn to look disgusted, a sneer replacing your confident grin as you matched Wanda’s withering stare. “I’m a god, I would never stoop so low as to work with Nazi’s who can’t understand that they will never hold the world. I have far too much respect for myself and my followers to subject them to the tortures of facists. It's a shame you can’t say the same for yourself, can you little red? That seemed to stop the Avenger in her tracks, her tongue effectively halted in tandem with her body. If Natasha felt any surprise or anger at your comments, she didn’t show it; instead she elected to continue the questioning. “So you don’t work with Hydra, meaning you aren’t under their influence. Why transform your own followers, what were you trying to achieve Y/n.” You raised an eyebrow, images of freckles and skin that shone bronze in the sun flashing across your mind. Sighing softly, you made eye contact with Natasha, losing yourself briefly in her fields of green. You suppose you could give her a bit of honesty, it might work to get her into your arms, to have her join you and your followers, to bring her closer. Sinking down to sit on the ground, you look up at Natasha and rested your hands on your knees, your palms facing the ceiling. As the two heroes looked down at you, they noticed the wear at the sleeves of your suit jacket, the ripped fabric of your sleeves, the hints of raw and bloody skin peeking from behind their silk covers. Natasha had never seen you look so defenseless, not even in the recovered footage from your compound. “Have you ever loved someone so much that you would do anything to get them back? That you would hurt anyone, break down anything, corrupt any and everything if it meant getting them back? People often say they do, I’m showing her that I would.” Natasha’s stoic expression faltered for a fleeting moment, shocked by the display of infuriated vulnerability; she didn’t know who ‘she’ was for you, but she understood your sentiment. She’d do the same for her sister if she ever came back.

To Natasha, your outburst made you seem just the slightest bit more human. To Wanda, your outburst was nothing but a poor excuse for your actions, a pretty bow to put on top of your immorality. Your position remained relaxed as the witch walked towards you, her jaw clamped tightly shut as she glowered down at you. You watched her eyes shift into a deep scarlet as you felt her magic trickle into your mind, swirling around your cerebrum. Her voice echoed deep inside your brain, her message ringing out loud and clear: ‘I don’t know who you mean by her, but she’d better be long gone for your sake.’ Laughing softly, you tilted your head back and let it stay in that position, the pale white lights shining down onto your skin. Wanda’s eyes never left your face, watching as water welled in the corners of your eyes. Her magic still touched your mind, coiling around the edges as though it were Ouroboros. ‘You don’t have to worry about that. She’s long gone, and I’m afraid that I have changed too much for even her to be able to recognize me.’ Returning to her previous position, Wanda’s sneer turned into a self satisfied look, like a cat basking in the sun. “Good.” The witch allowed Natasha to step forward, rings of moss-green tracing your stance as you rose back to your feet. Her stance was almost casual, filled with false calm and a sense of pity.

Pity as she looked at you, at your disheveled state, at the tears that held themselves at bay as though they were some potent acid. The clemency present in her pupils made bile rise into your throat, your shoulders raising as your lip twitches at the fake softness, at the faux empathy present in her eyes. “If you tell us how to neutralize your soldiers, we can work out a deal with you. We can’t promise your freedom, but we could get you better accommodations than this.” “Better accommodations? Is that all the earth's mightiest heroes have to offer me? I have done nothing wrong, you broke into my compound, destroyed my office, and now you question me about my family. Those who have been enlightened are not some threat to be neutralized-” Striding forward until your nose was but a hair's breadth apart from Natasha’s, you felt an invisible force press on your chest and pull at your wrists, pushing you back as your body tensed. “-they aren’t warriors for you to slaughter and kidnap after HYDRA is done with them. They are people, people who have seen the true light. If you’re going to hurt my children then you’ll have to do it when I’m buried underground.”

Shaking her head, Natasha caught a glimpse of red tendrils pushing you further into the cell from the corner of her eye; hearing how you fell as she signaled for Wanda to leave with her. After the two left, you allowed yourself to lay on your back, bringing your hands up to look at your mangled forearms beneath the once pristine material of your suit. Breathing in, you prepared yourself for the burn, the sound of sizzling skin and muscle popping in the air. As you held your arms in the air, you watched droplets of ruby red begin to peak through the metal of the cuffs. It was still liquid, just how you wanted it. Bringing your arms back down, you watched as the blood trailed down back into the cuff, hearing a pop and a crackle of electricity.

You finally had the timing down, now you just needed to raise the amount. Demon blood has always been very potent.

#you dont love her #demon!reader #wandanat #natasha romanoff x reader #trauma #the reader is in prison so thats cool #Wanda gets Called out for being in HYDRA #References to greek mythology #Odyssey references #enemies to lovers #slow burn

[usafphantom2]

Russia says that confiscation of Antonov An-124 in Canada “will have consequences”

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 18/06/2023 - 19:04in Commercial, War Zones

Canada confiscated an An-124 freighter from Volga-Dnepr that was "stranded" in Toronto. For Moscow, the state confiscation of Antonov An-124 is "conical and shameless heft". And that's not all.

The Russian Foreign Ministry this week described the confiscation of an Antonov An-124 in Toronto as a "shamless cynical and heft". The government of Canada ordered this last week. Ottawa is following a "Russianphobic course" and is rewarding Ukraine "with stolen Russian property," the Russian government said angrily.

The Antonov An-124 with registration number RA-82078 was on a humanitarian flight commissioned by the Canadian government last February. The special freighter delivered antivirus agents to Toronto, writes the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs. But she was not allowed to leave for her return flight.

"Now it is becoming clear why," continues Moscow: it is the "long-range goal, as it now seems, to steal the single aircraft and deliver it to 'customers' in Kiev". The ministry is carefully hiding the fact that Russia went to war in Ukraine soon after the landing of An-124.

Canada ordered the confiscation of Antonov An-124, which has been detained in Toronto for 16 months, after the country imposed new sanctions on Russia in April. Volga-Dnepr was also included in the list of blocked Russian companies. The reason given was that the cargo airline supports the Russian government. She is not yet on the U.S. and European blacklist.

The confiscation must have hit Moscow in full. Because the ministry of the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Sergey Lavrov, was harsher in his statement. According to the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the expropriation is "continuing the 'tradition' of the predecessors", who "granted asylum to Nazi accomplices among the obstinate Bandera activists in Canada".

Stepan Bandera was a Ukrainian right-wing extremist and leader of the militant wing of the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists, who cooperated with the Nazis. His family and many of his followers fled to Canada. In this tradition, the "Trau regime" is now instructing "the Ukrainian authorities to wage a war against Russia until the 'last Ukrainian'," according to the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

To further express anger, on Wednesday (June 14) Russia also invited the deputy head of Canada's diplomatic mission in Moscow for a stagecoach at the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The Canadian diplomat was informed that the government's actions in Ottawa “will bring the most serious consequences for Russian-Canadian relations, which are on the verge of collapse because of the Trudeau regime”.

Ottawa wants to deliver the An-124 to Ukraine. But it's not so easy. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Canada recently announced that the asset would be administered "in accordance with federal laws". If it finally falls into the hands of the state, the government of Ukraine will find ways to "redistribute this asset to compensate victims of human rights violations, restore international peace and security or rebuild Ukraine".

Tags: Antonov An-124 RuslanCommercial AviationVolga-DneprWar Zones - Russia/Ukraine

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Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Daytona Airshow and FIDAE. He has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. Uses Canon equipment during his photographic work around the world of aviation.

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[ceddar-cheez]

Y’all wtf how to the Fallout Universe predict Covid and 2020-2022??

Ok so I’ve been doing a research on Fallout Lore cause I’m wanting to write a fanfic where the Sole Survivor is Japanese and received political asylum to America yadda yadda you know shaking up the rigid box Bethesda put the possible back stories. Anyway I needed to read up on the pre-war lore so I can write out what happened to Japan in their alternate history and so that Sole Survivor can talk about what life was actually like back then.

And my dudes, it’s basically what the fuck is happening now. So America was at war with communist China over oil running out. (Sounds a little familiar). But the. I keep reading and it references a New Plague and a massive nation-wide quarantine. Like bruh it even says there was never a cure and they just fucking dealt with it.

New Plague (2053)

Main article: New Plague

Another blow was struck in 2053, when the New Plague virus emerged. The virulent nature of the plague and the speed at which it had spread led to the first-ever national quarantine and the closing of American borders, as tens of thousands died.[Non-game 16] In 2055, the government commissioned West Tek to develop a cure for the virus. Though no cure was known to have ever been found, the research into a cure paved the way for subsequent biochemical research efforts.[10]

This is from the Fallout Bible written in 2002, so it’s not some shit that got added recently. (Now what’s happening today isn’t that hard to predict, I’m just saying this lore isn’t based off Covid)

Oh and this started 24 years before the bombs fell. So if your Sole Survivor is any older that 24, they’ve lived through it.

So now I’m just here stuck cause I wanna write my silly little Fallout 4 fanfic to fix my problematic fav Maxson (I can change him UWU) where others can read and get away from the horrors of today… only for when pre-war is asked about the Sole Survivor will canonically describe the general feeling of modern ass 2022 America. (So much for escapism).

Isn’t that fucking wild?

You’re more connected to the Sole Survivor now than in 2016. You are basically Sole Survivor in the intro going to your little fucking event and giving a little fucking speech and care for your child like the world isn’t crumbling around you and it’s on every channel.

So that makes me wonder, what would you think if you were asked about pre-bombs? Would you grieve in your Old World Blues? Would you be happy to be free of today’s societal shackles? Or just relieved that the show has finally dropped and at least that’s not hanging over your head.

“I can’t imagine being frozen for so long. What do you think of the wasteland?”

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout lore #sole survivor #just some musings #just think how jarring it would be to be reading an overly written smut fic of Maxson and then the MC starts talking about a fucking quaran #but like it’s cannon my dude

[aroundtheworldiej]

Sir Alfred: A life spent waiting

By Nassim Belhadj

On November 12, Mehram Karimi Nasseri known as "Sir Alfred" died at Roissy Charles de Gaulle Airport at the age of 77.

An eventful start to life

Born in 1945 in Iran following a love affair between a dead father and an English mother who never wanted to recognize him. Mehram left to study in September 1973 at the University of Bratftordin in England, thanks to a student scholarship. While in England in March 1974, he participated in a demonstration against the Shah of Iran. He returned to the country on August 7, 1975. As soon as he arrived in the country he was tortured and imprisoned for 4 months by the Iranian secret police, before being expelled from the country without his papers.

The beginning of a great crossing of the desert

He will seek asylum several times in Berlin, then in Netherlands in 1977. But also in France and Yugoslavia in 1978 and in 1979 in Italy. All of these requests will be rejected. On October 7, 1980, the United Nations Commission granted him his asylum request. Mehram lives until 1986 in Belgium. He decides to go back to the United Kingdom, to look for his mother with proper papers. He embarked on November 16, 1984 for Folkstone. Arriving in Great Britain, he returned his refugee card from the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees in Brussels, thinking that he could no longer be sent back to Belgium. He found himself in Boulogne sur Mer in 1985, where he was sentenced by France to three months in prison for illegal stay on the national territory.

Credits: FreeRoyaltie

Release from prison, and a life that ends in France

After his release from prison, he will live in Terminal 1 at Roissy. In 1988, he will do 5 months in prison for trying to reach England without papers. He finally succeeded in obtaining French papers in 1989. He then went to Bobigny, to be able to collect his new papers. But when he arrived there, he declared: “I refuse to sign his papers, they are not in my name. I am no longer who I was. My name is now Sir Alfred Mehran and I am not Iranian. My father was Swedish and my mother Danish. He then returns to live in the departure hall of Terminal 1 of the airport. He resided at the lower level of the shop, in the middle of many boxes, he receives postal mail and visitors. Sir Alfred leaves the airport at the end of July 2006 to be hospitalized. At the end of January 2007, he left the hospital. He was cared by the Red Cross, then has been transfered on March 6 to an Emmaüs France foster home in the 20th arrondissement of Paris. Nevertheless, he return live to the airport in October 2022.

Credits: Own Work

He dies a few weeks after his return to the airport. He was 77 years old. His incredible story will notably inspire Steven Spielberg in the film: "The Terminal".