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niqhtlord01 · 7 months

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Humans are weird: The Price of History

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) “Am I to believe this is your final draft?”

Earl Von Morgan watched the collected gathering of military leaders and diplomats nod their heads one by one. It was the response he had expected, but one he had hoped would prove him wrong.

He pinched his brow and stifled a yawn. It’d been six months since he had been released from the hospital and yet still he felt like he was playing catch up with his own body. The doctors had given him medication to ease the pain, but he had abstained from taking it after he learned the dulling effects it laid upon his sharp mind. Worst still his body would spasm every hour or so as if he was reliving the plunge out the window with a would-be assassin and plummeting several stories.

Then there was the matter of his own junior ambassador keeping him in a medically induced coma while they sought to take over his position with the assistance of a mega corporation. A mega corporation that had been intent on the continued enslavement of AI programs which had been increasingly showing elevated signs of intelligence and self-awareness. One of which had hacked into the hospital Morgan was being housed in and deactivated the medical equipment long enough to awake from the coma and regain his position as lead ambassador.

As if he had not had enough to deal with he then learned that the Cosmic Federation had become embroiled in an ongoing war with the Tunks Republic. The Tunks claimed that CF colonists violated their territory and settle on a world in the Da’brin cluster while the Cosmic Federation argued that the Da’brin cluster had never held any stakes of claim prior to the colonist’s intervention.

Within a matter of days a Tunks fleet was dispatched to remove the colonists and likewise a CF fleet was sent to ensure the colonists safety. The two fleets met, tempers flared, and someone did something incredibly stupid and fired the first shot of an increasingly bloody conflict.

Morgan had been called forward to represent humanity’s contributions to the war effort. There were far more experienced human generals and admirals that could have filled the position, but Morgan’s fame had gotten the better of him as the other alien leaders only felt comfortable around Morgan.

He had only just arrived to his first meeting when the collective body gave him the terms of surrender for the Tunks.

Morgan pulled out his spectacles and read aloud the terms.

“1. The Tunks will relinquish all claims to the Da’brin cluster; including all worlds, moons, planetoid bodies, asteroid fields, stars, and other celestial bodies found within its borders.

2. The Tunks will reduce their standing military by 2/3 and be forbidden from maintaining any warship larger than frigate class.

3. The Tunks will hand over the worlds of Sinvel and No’grash to the Cosmic Federation.

4. The Tunks will repay the Cosmic Federation in reparations equal to ten trillion credits, to be obtained by financial wealth or industrial capacity transfers.

5. The Tunks will surrender all trade agreements and monopolies to Cosmic Federation members.”

Morgan tossed the data pad holding the terms of surrender aside without further reading it. It clattered to the floor and cracked as the gathered delegates looked up in surprise.

“Were the terms not to your agreement?” a Quntus asked. Their translator unit switched between female and male tones as it was unable to compensate for the changing biological nature of the alien. This gave it the sound of two voices speaking over each other and gave Morgan a seething headache.

“You must know that the Tunks will never agree to this.” Morgan said flatly. “They are a proud people and you are stripping them of everything; from their financial wealth to their dignity.”

“Come now, be fair.” A Tryobien spoke up. “It is hardly as severe as it could be.”

“Oh?”

Morgan leaned forward and rested his arms on the table as he fixed the Tryobien with a glare that had made Draxic generals blink.

“Do you know the significance of Sinvel and No’grash?” Morgan asked, to which the Tryobien nodded.

“They hold key strategic locations along the border regions of-“

Morgan coughed into his hand and shook his head. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a cigar and lit it, taking a deep breath to calm his throat from bile he nearly vomited.

“Sinvel is the location their religious founder was born on and No’grash was where he gathered her first followers to spread the word of the Seven Eyed Sun.”

The delegates looked mildly confused at the history lesson, none more so than the Tryobien who disliked being interrupted.

“Their religious matters were not taken into account-“

“Well they should have been.”

Morgan’s voice was stern and carried a tone that offered no challengers. “You would deprive the two most holy locations to an entire species religious system and you think there would be no repercussions?”

He took another deep inhale from his cigar and let the burnt tip fall lazily to the elaborately decorated table. “Do you have any idea the religious fervor you would be stirring up? The hatred you would be embedding in their hearts?”

“Tunks have no heart organs.” The Quntus corrected. “Their circulation system is driven by the shifting muscles of their body.”

Morgan looked at the alien delegate who realized the question had been rhetorical and retreated into their seat.

“The point being,” Morgan continued, “is that you would be giving them a cause to rally behind; and a strong one at that.”

“When they abide to the rest of the terms the Tunks will be in no place to offer any such resistance and we shall have peace once more.” The Tryobien countered.

Morgan gave no reply to this. He took several small puffs from his cigar as he looked around the gathered delegation. He had the look of a man deep in thought, wondering if it was worth to speak his mind and risk his career and reputation. Finally, having made up his mind, he took one final puff of his cigar and dabbed the remains into the table.

“On my world a similar treaty was made after a great and terrible war.” Morgan began. “Like you, the victors thought that such harsh terms were warranted and would cripple any further escalation of conflict in the future.”

The Tryobien smiled at this, thinking that Morgan was now in favor of the treaty.

“In reality they were only setting the stage to an even greater conflict that would spread to every corner of our world.” Morgan continued as the smile fled from the Tryobien’s face.

Morgan rose from his chair and began to walk the room, leaning heavily on his cane as he passed each delegate and military commander assembled.

“This treaty, much like the one that was signed against those defeated human so many centuries ago, will only lay the groundwork for a never ending cycle of war and retaliation.” Morgan finished as he casually kicked the data pad he had read from earlier.

“You are afraid of the Tunks?” an alien general asked, garnering a round of chuckling from several others in the room.

“I am worried of having to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life.” Morgan countered. “I am worried that a day may come when we are distracted and the Tunks see their chance for vengeance.”

He leaned down to the military leader who had mocked him just then and looked him dead in the eye.

“What do you think would happen if three thousand Tunk warriors suddenly appeared on your homeworld while your military was fighting on the other side of the galaxy?”

The alien general opened their mouth to speak but stopped themselves. Their pause was the only assurance that Morgan needed to know his point had gotten across.

“How hypocritical of you to speak of peace,” the Tryobien spoke in a last bit gambit, “when your people have made such treaties as this one before us throughout your people’s history.”

“A mistake we have learned from with blood and fire, dear delegate.” Morgan replied coldly. He turned to address the rest of the gathering once more.

“The purpose of any peace treaty is to not just end conflict, but to prevent conflicts of the future.”

As he walked back to his seat Morgan withdrew another cigar and lit it, savoring the flavor as he sat down and looked around the room.

“I believe we can do better than the treaty I was handed earlier.” He began as he saw many of the delegates giving him nods of approval. “We must do better.”

#humans are insane #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #earl von morgan #diplomacy #space diplomacy

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sapphic-woes · 1 year

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When You Met Her pt. 5

A/N: Five chapters? Inconsistency who? Anyways, thank you all for the wonderful comments! Plz remember that encouragement, rather than demanding for more is much better though! MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1k AO3 Link

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You think it’s an odd question, considering it has nothing to do with you.

Bonds. You know it’s a fantasy. Didn't stop many omegas from whispering about it when your owners aren't around though. But you know better than to allow yourself that luxury. In the brothel the walls had ears, and you rarely saw the same omega dream about getting out of that hellhole twice. Yourself included.

“...Yes.” You stiffly mumble the response, “I know.” Viktor studies you, letting your lack of elaboration fill the room with silence. Sevika doesn’t speak either, and the heavy quiet eats away at what little calm you have. Fidgety, you protectively rub the back of your neck. Viktor’s gaze follows the movement, bright amber eyes sharply widening.

“Your neck.” You wince, shrinking into yourself as the doctor takes a step forward, “those scars…y/n did they…did they try to–”

Like a useless, rusty gate, your words slip past your lips before you can rein them in.

“I was wrong.” You grind the words out like bitter sulfur on your tongue. The room is becoming thick with emotions. It's stifling. It makes you want to run, yet you stay in place instead. Nothing good ever comes from running.

Viktor’s scent is sour, so potent you nearly gag, but that's not what scares you.

Sevika burns.

Her anger flows in disrupted waves. It’s an unpredictable tide threatening to pull you under. Instinct tells you to hide your nape. To curl up and protect it at all costs. Experience tells you such actions are useless. You’re going to be told each and every last bit of your mistakes, whether you liked it or not.

“I know. It won’t–it w-won’t happen. I know now. I know that n-now.” Your words are feverish, and shamelessly desperate. Your nails dig into your knees hard, and you nearly draw blood. You wish you did.

At the very least, it would pull you out of these memories. It wasn’t as if you’d never imagined being one of those rare omegas that had an equally rare, bonded alpha. However, you were quickly shown the consequence of it.

Now, they were a useless endeavor.

“It can’t happen to pr-property. I was wrong. I k-know that now so please…” There was a time you’d whispered those hopes aloud, but there were no secrets in the brothel. No way to know who wasn’t listening in on your foolish words…and no hesitation to crush them either.

“Bonds…" Your mind feels like a blank slate. The air is polluted. A single breath is a sea of emotions, yet you don't even flinch. Numbness creeps into your head, and all you can focus on is making them understand.

"Bonds aren’t for…omegas like me. A-an item for public use can't suddenly become exclusive. I know I am not v-valuable enough for that. I promise.” The words are branded on your lips. They pass listlessly under your breath as though rehearsed. You aren't greedy. You know your place.

You know the kind of omega you are.

“No one…is going to do that here. To think that happened to you for so long…” Viktor’s voice is tight. It’s strained as though it's a dam holding back a flood. It confuses you enough to look up, yet you’re still nervous, unable to meet Viktor’s solemn gaze. Instead you focus on his throat, watch it bob up and down in a painful swallow. A frail looking thing just like yours.

Only then did you notice the edges of his own scars at the curves of his neck. Too familiar to be a coincidence. Too many to have just been an accident. You know it's not a simple punishment. You know it's something particularly cruel owners do. Yet this doctor that seems completely separate from your world has them. Abruptly, you look up.

Viktor is faraway. You can tell those amber irises are distant. Seeing a memory, or perhaps a fragmented scene. The lingering ghost of his scars.

Somehow the gaze is familiar. It’s empty and vast, much too deep to understand. You’ve seen faces in the brothel like that. Or at least, similar ones. A bit of it you recognize. It's hollow, it's barren. But it blooms with a delicate, ebbing light. An emotion that vanished from omegas towards one another the longer they stayed in the brothel. One you forgot could ever be directed at you.

The omega's sad. Sad for what you lost.

“It doesn’t even…” Viktor takes a sharp, wavering breath. You’re so focused on Viktor, you don’t realize Sevika's walking out of the room until the door shuts.

Oh no. Though she’s gone, her anger lingers. It’s strong enough it’s like she's still here. She must care about the value of an omega’s nape, and obviously, you disappoint her. Will she throw me away?

Sevika is nicer than most alphas, and kindness, it seems, serves better to make you obedient than fear. You want to please her. She doesn't hit you, at least not yet she has, and you hope to keep it that way. You like this whole not hitting thing. She smells nice too. She smells like goodness.

Sevika is an alpha. But sometimes she makes you feel safe. Like there's nothing about her to actually fear.

You wonder what to make of that.

However, now she knows that the back of your neck is dirty. Gross with jagged marks. What will happen to you? You wonder if Viktor reassures you simply because there's no point in decreasing your worth even further.

“Sorry. Other than that I’m not spoiled, I swear. M-my holes are fine, and I’ve got no diseases, a-and I can take shimmer, no bad trips. I um, I-I’ve been told I’m good at it. I don’t need a lotta rest and don’t need much food. W-water too–”

“Y/N. You haven’t been brought here for that. You won’t be doing that again. Ever.” Viktor interrupts you. His voice hurts. At least, it sounds like it's hurting him. As if to ease the pain, he slowly speaks.

“Them abusing your nape doesn’t make you “spoiled.” Neither does it mean you can’t have a bond. There’s no way to make an omega unable to have a claim or a bond. Trust me…” Viktor turns around, tugging down the collar of his shirt. Surely enough, it's covered in scars similar to your own, but what surprises you more is what mark on top covers it all.

A clear bite mark, smelling precisely of an alpha.

“Or else I wouldn't have been able to have this either, would I?”

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #arcane sevika #arcane x reader #arcane headcanon #jayvik #arcane viktor

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danses-with-dogmeat · 7 months

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Day 12 -- Caesar

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober 2023, Day 12 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don’t interact.

Somnophilia with Caesar x F!Six

Caesar is... super creepy and bad overall. Just had to put that out there. He's a bad guy, a very shitty person, and this is him still being shitty and bad.

That being said... he is pretty interesting to write for? Just the way that a person's mind, when they are practically deified, can become so egotistical as to think that the universe literally revolves around them and their experiences was just... wild to explore.

Anywho, I hope y'all like it?

This is another one though, DEFINITELY read the included for a whole SLEW of TWs.

Here is the link to my Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: (nonconsensual) Somnophilia, medical play, noncon/rape, aphrodisiacs, slavery, legion bullshit, entitlement & ego, restraints, (really) possessive sex, unhealthy relationships, obsession, allusions to erectile dysfunction, painful sex, breeding kink, purity kink, delusional and misogynistic Caesar, creampie, (author approves of absolutely none of this at all).

Words: 4k

“She looks so innocent this way, so… vulnerable. But I suppose that’s what sleep is, isn’t it? Vulnerability… You know,” Caesar ran his fingers over the sleeping courier’s arm, keeping his gaze locked to her peaceful expression, even as his head turned to better address Siri, where she stood across from him in the extended room of his tent. “Most social species understand this very idea. They post sentries for the pack while the others sleep, while they are exposed, unable to resist any fate which may befall them whilst they’re unconscious… A shame the courier didn’t have the option, nor the social resources, to take such measures. Hmm... When will she wake?”

He spoke still without looking at the slave. Siri need not be paid any mind, as she was merely the administrator, the examiner, and now her job was finished. Now, he and Six could be alone.

Finally.

“Soon.” She answered him quickly. “The herbal mixture should pass through her system in the next half hour, or so. Shouldn’t be longer than that, surely. Though, it’s not always easy to tell when–”

“Enough. That answer was adequate, I don’t need to hear your rambling. Is mine ready yet?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted before she could utter so much as a word.

“A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ will suffice. I don’t need every ingredient involved, or your life’s story.”

“Yes.” Siri’s voice was monotone. Unemotive, but unbothered.

It wasn’t like this sort of interaction was uncommon.

And Caesar… while he appreciated her function in his society, he’d never taken a particular liking to her. One thing was certain now, though. She didn't envy Courier Six.

“Good. You’re permitted to leave.”

She nodded to him, almost more akin to a bow, and moved to take her leave, before his cold voice stopped her once more.

“Oh, and Siri? Tell the others I’m not to be disturbed.”

One more affirming nod, and the tent flaps opened to allow her through. As they fluttered to a close, Caesar tore himself from Six’s table and went to take the herbal mixture Siri had left him into his hand. He swirled it around curiously in the mortar she’d prepared, before downing the bitter potion with a grimace.

The taste may have been rather grotesque, but the effect of the mixture was near immediate. Or perhaps it was merely placebo, but it mattered not. If it worked, who was he to care?

Caesar sighed aloud as he felt his body physically warm, his spine tingling as an anticipatory feeling settled deep in his gut. It was almost as though he could feel the way his pupils dilated, the way his blood ran hotter and faster through his veins.

The absence of pain was a boon as well, particularly in his head. He’d often considered utilizing this mixture’s effects on his worst headache days for that reason, but there were… adverse symptoms to consider.

Symptoms which he now planned on taking full advantage of.

“You have managed to do the near impossible, my pet.” He spoke now to the unconscious Six, strapped down on the medical cot she’d been examined upon. His voice was low, strained with a growing intensity of feeling, of the sensations roiling within him. Caesar was relieved no one was here to witness the way he was, so quickly, becoming undone.

“You…” Caesar paused to pant out a few heavy breaths, trying to keep from becoming completely overwhelmed at the licentious feelings spiraling through him, the promiscuous thoughts that barricaded his usually composed and aplomb mind. “You have surprised me. Quite the feat, I know.”

He approached her now, prowling like a possessed animal until he could brace his stiff hands on the side of the cot, and then run his fingers over her bare side.

Naked women in the Legion were about as common as clothed ones in any other society, but even still, to look upon the courier so wholly… The delicacy of it had his mouth watering, had his tongue wanting for a taste of what was now his.

Scars small and large littered her otherwise delicate skin, her muscles were toned from surviving in this harsh land, like many of the slaves they kept on such a rigorous schedule of serving. But even still… there was something alluring about her… unremarkable visage. Perhaps it was that she was a dead woman walking, as surreal to gaze upon as a ghost, but no less beautiful than a dancing spirit, however haunting one might be. She was the one, the point zero one percentile, that could evidently survive anything the wasteland threw her way. It was admirable; her tenacity, her cunning, the way she’d tried to betray him… her innocence too, was something he found tasteful.

Of course he’d been tracking her every move, having Vulpes or another Frumentarius listen in on her conversations. If he was ever going to trust her, he needed to know where her loyalties lay.

Caesar would never trust her though. Trust is a fickle thing that would just as soon stab you in the back as promise to be in your life forevermore.

No, but if he could control her… Then he could explore this curiosity of his, he could understand her, inside and out. She could be his.

All he needed was this. Siri to put her under, to do an examination, ensure she had no wasteland diseases she could give him, no seed of a previous partner already festering inside her, where only he belonged.

But the girl had come up clean. So clean, in fact, the minx had him wondering if she was pure… Oh, to be this creature’s first… To take something from this extraordinary person that can never be returned to her, and make it– make her– his own.

You’d have to be a fool not to see that Six was created for him, brought to him like fate delivers years upon the living; inevitably, forcefully, demanding your attention. Their meeting was as certain as the sunrise, as notable as the stars, and he’d known, from that moment, when he saw the twin scars upon her forehead, when he felt his pain pulse cripplingly in that very same spot within himself that he saw marked upon her… Caesar knew that their futures were tied with one another with so many bounds of rope.

“Now…” He continued speaking to her in hushed tones, his voice rough from the climbing arousal spreading through his body. “Now I will make you mine.”

His hands had been exploring her all the while Caesar was in his thoughts, dragging his shaking fingers over her smooth torso, her lower stomach, up to her shapely throat, her full breasts. Those, he paid particular attention to, noting the way he felt his cock begin to swell, with more than just what the herbs provided him.

A rare talent indeed.

He’d thought maybe it would be worth seeing if she could keep him hard all on her own, if she could get him all the way through his climax… But the herbs became more attractive when he remembered how long they lasted.

If only her own medication lasted longer. I like her this way. Pliant, yielding. Unable to interrupt me or refuse me at every turn.

There was a certain appeal to her resistance of him, the fire in her, and she chose to showcase it with her words and wit more so than with physicality, which was refreshing, but he wanted to at least be able to get her ready for him without such a fuss.

Six was tied down, so he didn’t fear too much unwillingness from her in that sense, but she was strong-willed, and would fight the arousal Caesar was bound to bring her, and if she truly was innocent, well…

He’d rather not have her in pain. As much as that sort of discipline worked wonders on their slaves, Six was his, not the Legion’s. He would not have her completely broken before she’s able to properly serve.

In time, who knows? She may come to have affection for him. Caesar knows that the possibility is there from the feelings he often finds festering within himself on those sleepless nights he thinks of her; the conversations they’ve had buzzing about his aching head, her expressions, the annoyed ones and the inquisitive ones, her anger and her mirth.

Caesar looked forward to the myriad of looks he would be privy to tonight.

Without further preamble, the Legion leader set his sights between her slightly spread legs. The bonds were holding her knees wide enough apart for him to slot his hips between them, but there would be time enough for that soon…

First, he set a finger upon her, starting at her entrance and smoothing the pad of it between her lower lips until he felt the point of her clit. She was still slick from the jelly Siri had used to examine her, but he could do better.

Raising that same hand to his nose, Caesar took a deep inhale and felt his limbs shake with anticipation as her musky, sweet scent curled around him until he could all but taste it. He was almost tempted to drink from the source, as it were, but that was for a night when she’d earned it, for when he was feeling more patient, and his erection wasn’t practically ripping a hole in his tunic.

No, he decided. Just his hands, for now.

Before he carried on, Caesar adjusted the bed that way he’d seen Siri do it, dropping it to be perfectly level with his hips.

It was orgasmic already, the way his head didn’t ache, the way the most discomfort he could feel was emanating from his swollen cock, and that too, would soon be rectified.

Caesar’s hand returned to her then, two fingers stroking around her folds, spreading the moisture that was already there down to her entrance and back up to brush over her sensitive little nub. Sparingly, he rubbed there with his thumb as well, until he felt it begin to swell under his touch and saw the way her hips twitched unconsciously upwards in her sleep. Usually, Caesar would never opt to give a woman pleasure this way. She was meant to derive it from ‘the bliss of servitude,’ but he knew it was bullshit. It was meant to demean them, and give his men an excuse not to be too distracted by the slaves here. They were meant to be used, not fallen in love with, not doted over, not pleased.

Six was his, though, and while he would discipline her the way he might a slave at first, he also planned on rewarding her when she was deserving of it.

Six’s breathing picked up in her sleep, and Caesar looked on with intensity at the way her brows furrowed over her closed eyes, the way her breasts jostled with every breath, the way her muscles tensed beneath his attentions. He licked his lips at the sight of it, at the feeling of her own unique wetness beginning to gather over his prodding fingers.

No more waiting. Caesar told himself, and pulled his hand away, scowling at the way her movements ceased, her breath slowed again.

She’ll be awake any minute.

Caesar stepped back to pull apart his tunic, moving the folds so he could reveal his erection to his unconscious companion. He hissed as the moist tip met the cool air of the Mojave night, and felt goosebumps erupt over his arms and the back of his neck at the sensitizing feeling. Trembling slightly, the leader stepped forward, his hand shaking as it guided the broad head of his cock to her little entrance. Six’s lower lips were dark with arousal that he dreamed mirrored his own, as he noted the dark color encasing his member, the way his own pre-arousal leaked from the weeping slit.

“Tu eris bonum mihi, meus deliciae, won’t you? My Six…”

It wasn’t often he became sentimental, least of all with women, but this… Caesar wished he could document it somehow. It felt pivotal, significantes, Homeric… fateful.

There were no proper words to describe the overwhelming feeling of one’s fate being fulfilled, of two destinies intertwining for the first time, when it was bound to have been planned out from the very dawn of the ages of man, and of the earth itself.

Perhaps he could request a painting from one of his more talented artists to commemorate an event such as this…

She was warm against him as he rubbed the tip of his length along her folds, not wishing to stall, but not wanting to rush through this process either. It would only happen once, after all. Especially if this was the moment in which he was stripping her purity away, in favor of endowing her with the honor of his occupancy en perpetuum.

With that thought fresh and desirable in his mind, Caesar slotted the head of his cock against her opening, pushing forward an inconsequential smidge, to the feeling of only a little resistance on her part.

A good sign.

A sigh escaped him as he gripped his cock more firmly with his hand, the other resting on her hip, his fingers sinking and dimpling the skin there.

She will accept me.

His eyes stayed trained between her legs as he began to unreservedly press inside. The movement only grows in its unyielding nature, as he feels her entrance stretch around him, as her walls expand to take his very shape. Like the artists of old, Caesar took her body like a slab of marble, etching his name into her, shaping and molding her to the image he perceived, to the one he desired. Her face was a work of art in and of itself, as Six’s eyes finally fluttered open, the color of them startlingly vivid as her gaze met with his. It was hazy with her fatigue, but her brows were drawn together in what he could only determine as discomfort.

It was all he could hope for.

Six waking up just as he settled completely within her. She was utterly full of him, and her breath hitched as the image she was met with made sense in her fatigued mind, as it melded with the sensations of her body.

She was likely to be sore already, what with Siri’s thorough examination, but after his anticipated attentions, Six would be lucky if she could stand in the morning.

With that smug thought, Caesar wrapped both hands around the swell of her hips, and hauled himself out until only the tip of his cock remained. Six’s eyes widened and glistened at her waterline as she felt the drag of him leaving her, and then, he slammed back in. It was with distinct effort that Caesar kept himself from repeating that euphoric action immediately and with even greater vigor.

Just once is enough. For now.

No breaking her. His cross mind reminded him. We have time.

“W-wha.. The hell?”

Six’s voice was weak, slurred a bit from her groggy awakening, but Caesar paid her no mind, only kept his eyes trailing hungrily over her form as he pulled back and delivered another dizzying thrust into her. Though this time, he did force himself to hold back, to move more slowly, despite the herb-enhanced sensations urging him on, on, on.

“F-fuck, what the hell? What are you doing?”

The pain of his last invasion seemed to spike her into reality faster than was usual with the medication she’d been given. Caesar couldn’t complain though. Not now that he was firmly within her, not now that his plans were in full motion.

“Taking what is mine by right. Lex nostra est. You are a woman in the Legion, what did you expect?” He spoke to her almost passively as he continued focusing on the physical, the bliss sparking through his doped up body as his pace steadily increased.

Truly, Caesar was being quite polite in terms of the Legion. He’d warmed her up, he was taking his time, he didn’t punish her for the way she spoke to him, so out of turn.

Others in her position likely would have been on their way to a cross by now.

Due to the circumstances though, Caesar would allow his Six a few select liberties. For now.

“Yours by– goddamn it, I never should’ve– Ah, fuck, get off of me!”

A panic seemed to set in, and she shouted rather dramatically as she strained against the ties that held her firmly to the cot.

“I’m serious, you asshole, get off of me now!”

Caesar paused in his thrusting, feeling the distinct pulse of his cock within her spasming walls as he panted heavily from above her struggling form.

“You command me?” He scoffed, “I don’t think so. Not here. Are you so blind as to not see it?”

Six's confused expression and distracted squirming were enough of an answer for him.

“The way that you belong with me?” He punctuated it with a violent surge of his hips against her, and Six's gaze locked to him with a gasp, as she fully ceased her struggles. Pure horror shone through her expression, disbelief and fear and disgust rampant in those vivid eyes, and Caesar had to keep from slapping her.

Am I really alone in my belief? It cannot be so…

Instead, he hiked his hips out of her until only his tip remained, and drove forward painfully until his hips smacked audibly against the skin of her ass. A yelp of pain left her throat unwillingly as he repeated the action, testing the strength of the cot’s bonds with every fervent, furious movement.

“You. Are. Mine.” Each word left him with a forceful buck of his hips, his teeth gritting together painfully as he felt his anger boil up inside him.

So be it. If breaking the ungrateful whore will get her attention, if it will force sense into her unreasoned mind and inject understanding into her stubbornness, then that is the sacrifice I will make.

The herbs he’d been given were known to do this as well, to increase all sensations, in addition to libido, to make one have less reservations, to feel emotions more vividly than usual.

Perhaps he should have saved a sip of the mixture for her. Maybe then her potential affections for him could've been forced to the surface.

“I’m not yours.” Six spat, crudely interrupting his thoughts as his gaze honed in on her: the way her fists clenched in pain against the metal sides of the cot, her gritted teeth, the tears running down over her temples, the veins bulging in her neck.

What a sight… If only she could understand.

“Are you a fool, Six?” Another painful thrust had the woman wincing away from him with tears in her eyes. “You truly believed you would be treated differently here? After you saw the other slaves, after Siri warned you what you might become if you stayed?”

“I d-don’t know… You talked to me, I thought…” She was starting to look confused now, some sort of female hysteria setting in and causing her to go numb, he was certain. It happened with many slaves during their breaking.

So soon though… maybe she’s not the spitfire I thought she was.

“I trusted you.” Six said with a snarl and a realization, and Caesar half-grinned at the savagery that rose within her in just that short moment.

Ahh, I thought too soon. Good.

“Get fucking off me! Can you just– I want to talk, we can discuss–”

“No, Six. I’m not leaving until you understand. Meus es.” He pushed forward then with finality, sinking into her more slowly as he let his body lay upon hers, his hands sliding up from her hips, grazing over her belly, up to both breasts, then to cage in her face from either side.

“You are mine.”

His grip tightened until he could feel her jaw tensing, feel the bones beneath the swell of her cheeks.

“Nothing you say or do from here onwards can change that. You have been mine, since I first heard your story.” He was still panting from his exertion, but his voice was less feverish now. The certainty of his resolve was plain within it. “A life as indestructible as yours, a mind so impenetrable, to mix with my brilliance, my power… We’ll be insurmountable.”

Six’s mouth hung open, maybe in shock, maybe in awe, and maybe those were just too similar to bother distinguishing between. Nonetheless, Caesar took advantage, and plunged his lips against hers, capturing her opened mouth with his tongue, conquering and swiftly pulling away before she had a chance to bite.

She would yield to him, in time. Already, his muse was doing beautifully. A fine mix of resistance and submission that had his cock swelling and his thoughts running wild with the possibilities.

He was growing close, and so, Caesar pulled away again, until he was fully out of her. The action– his absence– he hoped would make Six realize how she craved the feeling of him filling her. She would associate this gaping nothingness, the want that came with it, with her desire for him to remedy it, to make her feel whole once more.

Six needed him.

She had to see it that way, had to see that they would be unstoppable as a force, that the Legion was meant to thrive, with them leading the way. The future of this great faction lies within the realm of both of their responsibilities. She needed him to lead her and the faction both, needed him in order to become a mother, as he knew all women craved, and… He needed her as well. For the future of his faction, Caesar needed her to bear his heir before the pain in his mind took him for good.

She needed his intellect, he needed her wit. He craved the way she amused him, and she surely needed an audience.

They completed each other in every way possible, and that fact was evident, as Caesar reinserted himself and surged forward until he felt the very last resistance within her. Six cried out and her body tensed deliciously around him.

Instead of pulling away for another thrust, Caesar merely ground his hips against her, keeping himself buried as far as he could go and laying waste to the last barricade within her. She bucked her hips in discomfort beneath him, lost for words as she whined out incomprehensible expletives and writhed against the feeling of him within her.

Sweat beaded on Caesar’s forehead, lightning shot in bursts down his spine, and his hands gripped her hips until they were sure to leave marks there, but finally, he felt his bliss reach a peak, he felt himself tense up, felt his length swell further within her, and then he was bursting against that final, defensive rampart deep inside. Vise-like walls gripped him until he felt wrung of all his blistering, white seed as her body reacted favorably to his final claiming of her.

It took Caesar a moment before he could see or hear anything but bright, splotchy colors surrounding him with his explosive release, but when the fog began to clear from his head, when the last rope of spend leaked out from his eager slit, he heard the way Six moaned out his name.

Perhaps it was to curse him, to ask him one last time to get off of her, or maybe he had her. Maybe she’d come to realize all he said was true. Maybe now she knew she was his.

It didn’t matter too much to Caesar, regardless. If Six was cursing him or declaring her dedication to him, he would know her true colors in the coming months. For now, though, for tonight, it didn’t matter what she said or felt. She would grow used to this, in time.

Perhaps even by the end of the night. Caesar thought, and felt his blood begin to boil up again.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fallout new vegas companions #fallout npc #fallout new vegas npcs #fallout nv #fonv #new vegas #caesars legion #caesar fonv #caesar #fnv #fnv courier #courier six #f!six #dwd.nsfw #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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xopinkroses · 2 years

Note

Could I request a reader that writes about the boys, or draws them?

I just want a passionate reader that isn't good with words but their hands and mind speak for them..

Also could you include V please?

Thank you and have a nice day!

(I added Nico for you, it's no problem at all! I hope I got it right and it's to your liking <3 Thank you for the request!)

DMC boys + V and Nico x Reader that expresses their love through writing/drawing♥

Summary; Reader struggles to express their feelings verbally so shows their love through other means. Warnings; None!

MASTERLIST🌸

Dante

At the beginning of your relationship, Dante had been reluctant to share his feelings as well. He gets not being particularly articulate at times, especially with serious topics. Over time, he became more comfortable with sharing. But you didn’t. You could tell that he was worried, your lack of communication could be perceived as a lack of interest– and that scared him. Maybe you just didn’t love him like he loves you? Or did you not trust him? You still couldn’t verbalise your feelings after he confessed this fear to you, which only fed into his insecurities more. You feel awful and, in a desperate bid to prove your love to him, leaf through the pages of your diary and read it to him aloud. The passage is a simple yet lovingly detailed description of him returning home from a job, and how much you missed him while he was gone.

‘I love him more than all the stars in the night sky– even filthy and bloodstained, Dante’s grin from a job well done shines brighter than any constellation.’

Any doubt in Dante’s mind is wiped clean, and he no longer questions your love for him. You still read him parts of your diary though, just to remind him.

Vergil

Vergil is also not the best when it comes to communicating his feelings. He’s past his murderous pursuit of power, but all those years have left him without proper coping mechanisms or social skills. You’re able to work through it together, learning to open up and put your emotions into words. And while it's hard, you’re both starting to get better at it, but you and Vergil have other ways of conveying your love. For Vergil; his affection tends to manifest as acts of service, providing for you, things as simple as making you tea in the morning all the way to doing household chores for you.

As for you, your method is an unusual way to show your love– you draw for him.

When you confessed your feelings for him (because he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it) you did so by handing him a beautifully drawn portrait of himself with a little heart signed in the corner. Even a man as prideful (and sometimes downright arrogant) as Vergil was unable to hide how much your gift affected him. You drew him as strong, and almost ethereal. With soft eyes and a barely there smile. Was this how you saw him? He still has that drawing tucked away, far too personal to him to have on display. His collection has only grown since then, to the point he got a special box to store all your art in.

Sometimes he joins you while you work at your desk, sketching away in your pad with him reading at your side. Your sketchpad is basically your diary, so he’s hesitant to look at it sometimes, but most of the pages consist of him anyway so… He won’t snoop or anything, but he loves flicking through the pages with you.

Vergil is enamoured by everything you do, and your art is no exception. Your ability to speak through paper and graphite alone is just another reason for him to love you.

Nero

Dramatic declarations of love are kind of Nero’s thing, he’s a pretty intense guy when it comes to the people he cares about. Which is why your method of conveying your feelings confused him to begin with, unsure as to why you felt the need to leave post-it notes all over the house. On the fridge, on the bathroom mirror, on the goddamn front door. Each one with a message usually consisting of how much you love him.

The romantic in him melts everytime he finds one of your post-its, but he still doesn’t quite get why you won’t just speak to him. You’ll have to explain that sometimes words just flow easier on paper than coming from your mouth. You know you’re not great at communicating it– but you adore the ground he walks on and want him to know that.

He starts leaving you notes in return, sometimes in the strangest of places too. You’ll open up the cereal box and find a messily scrawled post-it proclaiming his undying love for you. He figured that he should try out your method and he discovered that he loved it! The blush on your face whenever you would read a message from him gave him a big ego boost. There was something special about your little game, somehow it made him feel even closer to you.

Sometimes Dante or Nico will find the notes and he’ll get all embarrassed, expect to hear whatever was written on them to be quoted in every conversation over the next week.

He’s your exact opposite, this man is a wizard with words. Knowing exactly what to say to make your heart flutter. He’ll tease you about it sometimes, but makes it known that he doesn’t mind. He knows how you feel about him, you’ve put up with him for this long haven’t you? But you find yourself wanting to return the favour. When words are too difficult to string together, you decide to give him something physical as a token of your love. The drawing has him completely floored, he’s uncharacteristically flustered as he carefully holds the paper between his fingers. V appreciates art in any form, your work doesn’t even have to be good for him to love it. It just has to come from your heart; it needs to be honest. A piece of your soul is held within the paper, he can tell. Every unspoken word transformed into a drawing of him with his familiars, elegant and incredibly detailed. This must have taken you days.

It isn’t often that V is at a loss for words and this one of the first times you ever saw him stumble. Griffon has never let this moment slip, V is gonna be reminded of the day you left him speechless for the rest of his life.

He promises to treasure your gift forever, kissing the back of your hand with a level of suave that a lesser man could never pull off. It genuinely means so much to him that you took the time to make such a masterpiece for him. V has a cocky streak in him, but even he could never have imagined your feelings for him were so strong. From then on you have turned the act of drawing for him into a sort of ritual. A love language all its own.

Nico

Nico is not an extravagant kind of lover, she’s blunt and messy and shows most of her affection through cheesy terms of endearment and teasing. Think along the lines of honey bunch and sweetie pie, though her default is darlin’ of course.

You not being great with words wouldn’t bother her in the slightest, her lack of filter was born through a similar problem. She won’t pressure you to speak about your feelings too much, but sometimes you can tell she wants more from you. Reassurance, maybe? Nico often puts on a front around people, especially Nero and the rest of the gang. She doesn’t want to be seen as any less strong as them despite just being human. She’s not an inherently insecure person but she wishes you would be a little more affectionate with her.

You help her draw out plans for new gadgets and weapons, it’s good quality time and Nico likes seeing your focused face. You doodle little hearts and write lyrics from songs you both like on the corners of the pages. It makes her cheeks flush a lovely pink every time. Which is what gave you the idea to write her love letters.

You’re not good with words but you know your girlfriend like the back of your hand. A well written note– whether the words even make sense or not, will have her blushing mad and unable to even look you in the eye. She acts all tough but she’s an absolute sweetheart, and she craves love. Which is exactly what you’re going to give her!

~ 🖤

#devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #dmc x reader #dante x reader #vergil x reader #nero x reader #v x reader #nico x reader #dmc nico #dmc headcanons #dmc imagines

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idolbound · 4 months

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@sanctamater - Continued.

The echoes of those desperate to enter the safe habours of Kirkwall certainly paint a haunting song against the waves of the Waking Sea, along the walls of the City of Chains. It is a dreary state, though one the Knight-Commander ensures to protect until her dying breath. It is a decision many will blame her for, but had she chosen otherwise, those living within its walls would complain when grain stores have diminished to the mouths of the begging Ferelden refugees. It is not an easy battle in the war of keeping the city at peace but one that must be fought.

Meredith does not let it overburden her mind; she has far more pressing thoughts to be occupied with, managing her own orders and demands within the Gallows, enacting her loyal oath in servitude to the Chantry and the Grand Cleric, and making sure the Viscount remains within his realm of the keep, lest he make poor decisions. It too includes keeping the gentry happy, and in turn, meeting with those who have the city's best interests at heart. She entertained the thought of this meeting, exploring each and every avenue as a benefit to Kirkwall, to the Templar Order, and its charges, and so far, the good Lady has made her intent clear; offering such a remarkable resource will undoubtedly prove advantageous against the darkest, most dangerous threat walking amongst them, in due time.

"I would agree, Lady Comstock. Let us have a sample of your work... though if this sword is of any indication, I do not doubt that your smiths will provide my Templars with the finest Kirkwall has seen in many years."

The air of a promise - and some would argue, a vague threat, should the opposite occur - lingers on the rasp of the Knight-Commander's worn and weathered voice; many years in this position of command has led to barking orders, heeded faithfully by her brothers and sisters in arms who have followed her through her ASCENSION to the crown, taking after her former Commander in his stead after his undue and unjust assassination. Those that have witnessed her rise to power know full well her capability to ensure that things go the way they must - otherwise, she will have no part in it.

From across the heavy, old desk, she lets her finger tips pad against their opposite pairs. She finds something about the Lady intriguing - perhaps it is her boldness, to perhaps her underlying resilience. Many did not escape Ferelden, and many more live with the nightmare of Darkspawn and death, unable to cope. Though she is not ignorant to the matter of Lady Amelia's presence and beauty, a piercing gaze much like her own. At the mere mention of her upbringing, that wolfish grin widens, baring straight white teeth in full; a half-hearted chuckle escapes her lips.

"That we are. It is a wonder what makes one family so everlasting over others. Though I would venture to assume its most headstrong and powerful women have something to do with it... it certainly is not the doing of men."

A glimpse into that thought is all Meredith has to offer at the present, catching that ever blue gaze of the Lady once more and the slightest motion of her hand. Meredith wonders if she feels a particular discomfort being here, especially for so long and away from the prying eyes of her standing guard or, Maker forbid, the First Enchanter. She then sits up a little straighter; her armour's plates clink and moves with every gesture. Always prepared, always at the ready.

"You may yet still, should you choose to remain in Kirkwall. Though I would give my life in service to it, you may yet live out your days here, if the Grey Wardens fail." It is a bleak thought, but one she does not avoid speaking aloud. "Or, if you decide to stay regardless of the outcome of Ferelden, then I assure you, my Lady, you and your daughter will come to call it home all the same."

#sanctamater #IC.#v: ACT I #[ I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE ]#[ also meredith that is the gayest not gay thing you have ever said about women lmao ]#[ anyway idk what possessed me but here we are ]

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dizzydispatch · 6 months

Text

Deaf Americans and 9-1-1

It was sweet that he thought of me when he heard another police department over our region's shared police frequency, requesting the assistance of an officer fluent in American Sign Language with the arrest of a Deaf individual. Maybe the appropriate response would have been something along the lines of, hey, neat!

But I didn't think it was neat, and I still don't. In fact, it bothered me. the official symbol for ASL interpreters, based on the sign for "interpreting"

"That's super illegal," I texted Gabe back. "They can’t use an officer. A Deaf person has the right to a certified interpreter."

"Interesting," he sent back. "That's good to know."

But I wasn't done. "Just think about it," I continued. "If their Miranda rights aren’t read, correctly and in full, the entire arrest is bonk. How much worse do you think it could be if an un-licensed cop plays interpreter and screws something up? Even if they don’t, there’s no accountability. It’s a really risky game to play, as a department. You don't fuck with the ADA unless you want a serious lawsuit."

In 1990, then-President George H. W. Bush signed the ADA into law. The Americans with Disabilities Act was meant to protect individuals with a wide array of disabilities, a category that includes the deaf and hard-of-hearing.

“The ADA broadly protects the rights of individuals with disabilities in employment, access to State and local government services, places of public accommodation, transportation, and other important areas of American life. The ADA also requires newly designed and constructed or altered State and local government facilities, public accommodations, and commercial facilities to be readily accessible to and usable by individuals with disabilities."

There are a few different ways that dispatchers are expected to comply with ADA expectations. The first method is using TTY technology, with which our 9-1-1 systems are required to comply. There's also text-to-911 services, some of which work better than others, and silent call procedures, in which a party unable to unwilling to speak aloud can still communicate with dispatchers.

But even after the call, there are a thousand different ways that a deaf person can be failed by emergency responders. From police interactions to neglect in the courtroom, the issue is broad and systemic, and fixing it is going to require more than just attention and awareness.

For a d/Deaf or hard-of-hearing person, the right to an interpreter is probably the most important right protected by the ADA. After all, the primary barrier of deafness is communication. How are you supposed to know what you're in trouble for when you're arrested, or follow along in your own court case, or tell the police what happened if you're a victim of a crime?

The ADA is supposed to protect against these sorts of injustices, but unfortunately, as demonstrated by the fact that we heard one of our own local PDs requesting an officer with ASL knowledge over the radio, the follow-through just isn't always there. The resources allocated to teaching law enforcement how to deal with individuals with disabilities are severely lacking. As Professor of Sociology Alex Vitale of Brooklyn College states, “Police compliance with ADA provisions is pretty poor across the board. It’s clearly not a priority for a lot of police leaders."

In some places, in spite of the ADA, violations happen all the time. In 2012, St. Louis police tasered a deaf man on the side of the road, only for it to turn out he was having a diabetic emergency. Then in 2014, an elderly deaf man was dragged from his car and beaten by officers, before being charged with resisting an arrest by the same department that cleared the officers of all wrongdoing. A month later, a deaf man had been similarly beaten, tased, and choked out after being mistaken for a burglar. The officers had seen him signing, trying to communicate with them, and believed the movements to be signs of aggression, and had responded in kind.

This problem has been addressed by independent journals, such as The American Civil Liberties Union and The Atlantic, as well as in a humorous episode of Full Frontal with Samantha Bee, guest-starring Deaf activist and entertainer Nyle DiMarco.

youtube

However, there hasn't been much coverage of D/deaf interactions with law enforcement in the mainstream media, with the exception of those reports where things do get out of hand. Like with many issues of civil rights, pleas for systemic change continue to go unaddressed, or are only addressed after tragedy occurs. More often than not, too, these are underwhelming measures that smack of PR damage control, and are unlikely to maintain traction after the initial outcry dies down.

There is a reason the law requires anyone who is serving as an interpreter in any official capacity to be certified. Without those protections, children may be coerced into interpreting for parents, which opens up all sorts of issues, both for the child and for the efficacy of services being provided.

Many of the same issues arise when unqualified third parties are asked or compelled to serve in the same way. Interpreters are held accountable to standards of care, much in the same as their doctors and judges are. They are trained in the language's nuance, in skills for effectively communicating complex ideas to and for their Deaf clients. Furthermore, there is a code of ethics, compliance to which can help ensure privacy, regulate appropriate intervention, and serve as a framework for professionalism.

youtube

Of course, a national interpreter shortage is part of the issue. In college, I chose the ASL Linguistics track, which focuses on the science of language with ASL as a model, rather than the ASL Interpreting track. This was a decision that many of my peers and even some professors expressed disappointment in, as there is such a profound disparity between the needs of the community and the available resources. I chose dispatch over working directly in the Deaf community, but my background both through my education and in the jobs I worked between the years of 2018 and 2023 has given me insights that I assume the department making the request did not have.

However, as a hearing person with no experience trying to run a law enforcement agency, I am far from qualified to decide what is and is not an acceptable risk. I don't know what was going on at that department. I don't know what kind of attempts may have been made to locate a certified interpreter before they put out that request over the radio. What I do know is that it's still unacceptable.

Unfortunately, I don't have the answer. I'm just one dispatcher, in one small-town PSAP, with one set of ideals that I wish I could see reflected in the big wide world outside. But I can write, and so I do. I write to inform, to entertain, to commiserate with you, dear reader, dear stranger. I write in hopes that someday, somebody with more power than me understands what needs to be done, and sees it through.

In the meantime, we can write. We can write to our representatives, calling them to action. We can write to police departments out of which atrocities are born, and demand justice for those wronged. We can write, and we can speak up. We can learn sign language and support organizations that support our local disabled communities. We can listen to the voices of those who experience the world a little differently to us, and maybe, just maybe, we'll be part of the force of change that makes the world a better place for all.

For Americans who want to make a difference, to find and contact your state representative, visit the U. S. House of Representatives website and search by your state and district. The same can be done for state senators here. The National Association of the Deaf has a great letter template that you can use as well. If you are able to and wish to donate financially to local or global Deaf activism groups, the bottom of this Wikipedia page contains a list of organizations from all over the world.

#dispatch #dispatch diaries #911 dispatcher #911 dispatch #disabilit #disabilities #disability #deaf #deaf rights #disability activism #deaf activism #deaf issues #Youtube

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calicostorms · 2 years

Text

Image IDs: A brief guide

What it is, and why:

Image IDs are a text description of an image. This can also encompass things like GIFs too.

They’re made to allow people with difficulty viewing images to participate in posts! This can include those with low-vision or blindness, neurodivergency, and people with slow internet.

Many people who are blind use screen readers in order to read text aloud to them and few screen readers are able to read images without help, like alt text, which is rarely included. This means many people are unable to engage with significant parts of the internet, particularly on social media.

Image ID 101:

Any image description is better than none- regardless of how short it is.

There’s not a template to creating a good ID, and the level of detail you add depends on how much time you’re willing to spend. They are usually within brackets and ended with /END ID] to show that the ID has been finished. For example: [IMAGE ID: A drawing of a goat /END ID]

Being objective is better- this means no judgements like “crudely drawn“ or “well drawn”on art pieces unless necessary.

Additionally, making text of an ID smaller or placing it beneath a cut makes it less accessible, and should be avoided.

Creating a good image ID:

1. Identify the format (ex. Is it fanart? A gif? A screenshotted textpost? etc). If it’s fanart, identifying the style is helpful- things like chibi, watercolor, or cartoon if they apply.

2. Identify the focus of the image- it’s usually the thing taking up the most space within the image. For example, with the following image, the focus is Pingu, the penguin.

[IMAGE ID: A screenshot of Pingu the penguin shown with his arms crossed /END ID]

3. Provide details about the focus of your image. For example, in a portrait of a person, provide details about their appearance like skin tone, hair color, and facial expression. In the case of the Pingu image above, it could include the details that he is frowning and sitting on a chair.

4. Give information about things outside of the focus of the piece, like what’s behind or around it. Generally I work from left to right and top to bottom when doing this on complex pieces unless something in a different area is taking noticable secondary focus (for example, a second character who may be partially out of frame).

5. End your ID! Happy transcribing. If you have any additional commentary to add to the post itself, include it after your ID.

Resources:

All About Image Descriptions - A good step-by-step style guide with more in-depth explanations.

Keplercryptid’s image ID resource page - Includes many, comprehensive links

Tools to Help Describe Text-Heavy Images - Has both mobile and desktop tools that will transcribe the text in an image. Particularly with tweets or news article screenshots.

Describing Skin Tones

Describing Hair

People’s Accessibility Discord Server - This server can help you find your legs when you start making IDs, and has people who will write IDs for you! Broadly speaking, this was one of the most helpful things for me when I first started describing images.

And if you need an image IDer to answer a specific question, I’d direct you to @keplercryptids, who taught me a significant portion of what I know! My inbox will always be open for accessibility questions as well.

#accessiblr #calico speaks #accessibility #image ids

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silverwolf1249 · 1 year

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Raising Awareness: China's White Paper Protests

If possible, please consider reading and sharing this post.

So my tumblr has absolutely nothing to do about politics, but this is something hitting a little close to home and stuff like this is so important to get seen because it sure won't get the attention it needs, so I want to help increase its visibility any way I can.

I can't even begin to tell you my shock when I learned that the top 2 universities in China (Tsinghua University and Beijing University respectively) were both protesting against the CCP. That the protesting started from people all over China, and once some universities began protesting, the networking between the academic institutes made the protests quickly spread to roughly 175 universities all over China and abroad like Harvard and Caltech which have decent amounts of Chinese international students. I've even seen a few signs about the Ürümqi Fire (one of the major tipping points that started the protests) on my own university campus, which was the reason I started researching the situation.

For some background for those who might not know, the origin of using a piece of white paper to protest comes from a joke when Russia was still the Soviet Union. The general gist of the joke is that a man passes out blank fliers out to people, and gets arrested. He shows that he's only handing out white pieces of paper, but gets locked up anyway because "The fliers may be blank, but it shows your true intentions!". This, by the way, was explained to me by my dad, so it may deviate a little from the original joke. In any case, it's used to represent everything they cannot say aloud due to China's censorship.

But back to the coverage on the situation. I've been searching through most of the major english speaking news sources and read what I expected to see. Police intimidation in broad daylight, entering trains and people's own homes, and accosting people to delete any possible pictures they had from the protests and deleting all social media apps and VPNs which could help spread the word. They also recorded people's personal data, facial recognition, retinal scans, fingerprints, etc.

Several people were grabbed and arrested. There were also apparently a few journalists (including one from the BBC) who got caught trying to cover the issue and got beat up and arrested by the police before being let go after a few days. There's some other stuff as well, but overall it was mostly what I expected, but I still felt like there had to be more. I turned to my dad for some help, who's fluent in Mandarin.

With just one small search in YouTube with the phrase "白紙抗議", I got so much more new information. The phrase translates to white paper protests in traditional Chinese. This helped me find a treasure mine of recordings from a Taiwanese news channel that went further in detail and showed more first hand footage and images that was different than what I'd already seen, and so much more terrible to watch. But there were also videos and images that made me want to applaud the protestors.

Remember when I mentioned that an event called the Ürümqi Fire was a major tipping point to all the protesting? For some background information, Ürümqi is the capital city of Xinjiang, a huge region of China's north west area, and is also know as the Uyghur Autonomous Region.

The Ürümqi Fire was an event where an apartment building in the city burned down, killing at least 10 people. This wasn't even the first incident since China's zero-Covid policy, it just happened to be the event that got the ball rolling. In the english speaking media I looked into, I only saw pictures of the fire, or a silent video of it.

In the video I found? The recording also had sound, people screaming desperately for someone to help, unable to escape their locked rooms, and with no firemen coming to save them until much, much too late; all issues stemming from China's zero-Covid policy. It only gets worse from there.

Currently in english speaking media, most people only suspect more violent police suppression than just restraining people. Well, no need for any more speculations when you can watch two first hand accounts of young women being beaten by the police for not complying. The actual violence is, thankfully fully censored. Just seeing the beginning of the videos alone made my heart drop to my stomach.

But it's not all doom and gloom. These videos also held plenty of pictures of slogans graffitied by protestors all over different college campuses, and lemme tell you, people get creative under rigid censorship. I'm still not clear what some of them actually mean because I'm barely able to speak any Mandarin, there's no hope in me deciphering the word play. There was also a clip in one of them on how one student at Tsinghua University started a protest on her own, until she was surrounded by a veritable crowd of people.

I will be adding both of the videos I watched below, they both have english subtitles and can help explain more than I can. They also go into more detail other major reasons people, especially college aged people, began protesting. Most of them are unsurprisingly, covid related.

Other than that, it's just...so incredibly frustrating and heartbreaking to see what these people are up against. The White House released a statement essentially saying they won't touch the topic because of the potential fallout with China. Apple is apparently helping the CCP by limiting AirDrop time to prevent protestors spreading awareness to other people. And, let's not forget what the CCP did with the last large, public, student ran protest; the CCP sure tried their best to make sure it was erased from their history.

The protestors, the majority being people my age, have everything against them. A much like the Hong Kong protests, they don't stand a very high chance at succeeding. But they're still fighting out there for what they believe in, and have definitely left their mark in history. I have so much respect for all of them, I'm worried for all of them, and all I can do is sit here and write this post and hope more people see this and spread the word. At the very least, I want raise awareness over the situation.

*Just a reminder to watch the videos at your own risk as they contain potentially triggering content*

youtube

(the first video is the most recent update

the second one only has english subtitles for part of the video, but they have Mandarin subtitles if you're willing to google translate, and also the first hand clips throughout the whole video are still worth to watch even if you can't fully understand what they're saying)

Some Other Sources:

*If these sources or any of my words above end up being from unreliable sources or later found to contain false information/updated information appears, don't hesitate to send asks or comments so I may edit my post/delete the links/add new or better sources.*

White House Weighs How Forcefully to Support Protesters in China

New Symbol of Protest in China Roils Censors: Blank White Papers

China Covid protests explained: why are people demonstrating and what will happen next?

Apple Limits iPhone File-Sharing Tool Used for Protests in China

How blank sheets of paper became a protest symbol in China

Protests erupt across China in unprecedented challenge to Xi Jinping’s zero-Covid policy

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panzershrike-pretz · 5 months

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RODION

Source: x x x | x x x | x x x -> song: Something Wild

You had your maps drawn You had other plans To hang your hopes on Every road they let you down felt so wrong So you found another way You've got a big heart The way you see the world It got you this far You might have some bruises And a few of scars But you know you're gonna be okay And even though you're scared You're stronger than you know If you're lost out where the lights are blinding Caught in all, the stars are hiding That's when something wild calls you home, home If you face the fear that keeps you frozen Chase the sky into the ocean That's when something wild calls you home, home

- About;

- Rodion Mahari - he/him

Rodion's name came from the book Crime and Punishment, one of my favorites of all time (and I absolutely recommend!! Read it!!). In the book, Rodion Raskólnikov is the main character and I knew I LOVED the name (I keep saying it aloud as a vocal stim even years after I read the book xD).

Mahari is his partner's surname, my best friend's @isazmoon former oc.

- Carpenter

His work aboard Blithe consist of maintenance and woodwork along the vessel; given that it was Rodion's former job before piracy, he spends most of his time taking care of Blithe. A skilled carpenter can keep the ship afloat even with major damage, just enough for it to reach a safe place to be restored - and that Rodion knows how to do really well.

Other than that, Rodion is also a really skilled fighter as gunner, that being his secondary role.

- God of Gold, of Lighting and of Woodwork

As many of the other members of the crew, Rodion is no more than a minor God - and the last one of the Gods to be presented. He's not powerful, but can still manage with what he has.

Rodion is capable of manipulating gold and turning things in it by touch, although generally speaking he tries not to use it. It's a temporary thing and normally whatever he turns into gold will turn back to normal in a while - unless it's a curse (for example, turning people in gold as punishment for a wrongdoing).

Lightning manipulation is another of his abilities; Rodion is able to store electricity in his body and project it out in bursts, although it can be dangerous to him and people around. It is strictly used during battles and can't be used out of it, given the risk.

Rodion is a really strong and tough guy, given his boar-like phisique. He can endure a good amount of strikes and punches - it does get to him eventually, tho. Boy's always complaining because he does shit, gets hurt and only feels it a good time later.

Finally, turning into a boar. He uses it to scare people and pull pranks. He's a menace. His children love it tho-

- Personality

Rodion may be big and tough but he's a gentle soul, with a big heart full of love to give. He's a cuddle bug, extremely caring and thoughtful of people. Rodia is the type of guy who'll not hesitate in potting his own life on the line for the sake of others (as many of his friends will attest, including his children).

Most of the time, Rodion is a confident jokester (seriously, him and Sirius should be kept very much apart or they'll wreck the whole ship). He does like to seem scary and intimidating at first, but really he's just a sweetheart.

Rodion is illiterate and dyslexic, almost completely unable to read or write, that being his biggest insecurity about himself. He tries to read simple books, mainly children's ones and comics, since he finds the images helpful. He's still a romantic soul and tries to write letters and poems to his wife, even though they are hard to comprehend and he can only string together simple words; she still saves every single one of them with a lot of love.

Most of the time, he makes carvings on wood to gift his loved ones; gift giving is his main love language.

He's a magnet of people, almost everyone is immediately drawn to him - maybe that's how he ended up with three adoptive children (Enoch, Olive and Kanna).

Funfact: Rodion met his wife after a street fight against her brother. It was truly something. I may or may not need to write it eventually-

Relationship: Hanabi

HERE IS THE BOY. THE BABY. I LOVE HIM. He's @isazmoon favorite (same tbh he's perfect)

He has tusks. He can do a lot of damage with them-

#pretz oc #🥨🪶

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frozenrose105 · 2 years

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Whumptober Day 5

Prompt: Every Whumpee's Needs

Characters: demon!Author, human!Host

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3

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

Upon waking the second time, the Host had no memory of what happened to Bim. He supposed that was a good thing, considering all of the things he did remember.

There had been more killing. Some days, slow, torturous deaths done by his hand. On other occasions, it was a massacre. The Author would start and not stop, losing himself in a frenzy- too powerful for anyone to stop him, including the Host himself.

That was the fucked thing, the Host realized as he once again pushed himself out of bed. He hadn't wanted to stop him, even if he was able to. He ran a hand through his hair, thinking about the Author's thrill at hurting people- about how it had become his own in those moments, in place of his normal apathy towards the deed. He did what he had to do when he needed to, he had never done such things for fun.

Regardless, the Host diverted his attention back to the task at hand. He needed to rid himself of the Author. But even as he thought that, he realized how very awake the Author was in his head. He was being watched almost curiously by the demon possessing him, and he felt himself tense. It was akin to being an animal in a zoo, unable to escape but very aware of the eyes upon you. The Host waited a long moment, prepared to fight the Author if he was intent on taking back control. Still, the Author only watched.

"What is your end here, Author?" The Host asked aloud. In response he felt the Author's amusement- and then he felt the Author's urge to narrate, to bend reality with his words, as though the other was willing it on him. The power hadn't worked when he'd tried it last time, but the compulsion to try had him speaking the same words as before. "...The Host's vision returned to him." This time, the Author seemed to guide him, and he could feel the power in his words. There was a relief to using his power, though he wasn't sure if it was the Author's or his own. He wasn't sure if there was still a difference.

The Host also felt blood fall down his face like tears from his eyes as his vision did indeed return to him- though not in the traditional sense. It returned to him in brief images of the room as he narrated the scene around him. It confirmed his suspicions that the room was his own, but the images faded as his narration stopped, his voice choking up involuntarily.

Can't lose too much blood. The Author's voice in his head was quick to remind him of that in a singsong tone, as if the thought of it amused the demon. The Host growled lightly and stood from his bed, moving to his adjoining bathroom to clean his face of blood. The Author also guided him that way, able to see much better than the Host. But the Author only had so much patience for mundane things- that, the Host knew from experience- and as soon as he was done the Author was nudging at his mind. He didn't take control entirely, but it was clear what he wanted.

He wanted to kill. He wanted the Host to kill for him. ...And the Host wasn't sure where the Author's desire ended and where his began.

He knew subconsciously that he should be resisting, but he felt the Author's compulsion to kill as his own.

So he let the Author direct him.

The demon still wouldn't take control of him entirely, but the Host heard his whispering in his head telling him where to go, feeding him increasingly violent scenarios that only had the Host moving more desperately to follow.

He followed these whispers out of his home, able to see his surroundings via narration, which came more smoothly as time went on. He could hear the whispers in his head of the Author's narrations, keeping him from bleeding more with the use of the power. When the Host stopped, he found himself in a graveyard. The place was unfamiliar to him, but he moved expertly through it until he came to a hole in the ground.

Six feet deep. A coffin at the bottom. The panicked shouting of someone within, accompanied by the pounding of fists on hardwood. The Author had set up the perfect scene while the Host was a prisoner in his own body. And now, the Host was unchained.

He was unchained and the Author had shown him how to use his power. The Author wanted him to finish the job. It took only a moment of narration for gasoline to appear in his hand.

You know what to do. A wooden coffin burns nicely.

The whispers only got louder the longer he delayed, coupled with the shouting of the person in the coffin- though their voice was clearly growing hoarse.

Hurry. You want to hear them scream.

It took another moment to set the coffin ablaze.

And he did hear the scream. He heard the scream and then the coughing as his victim began to run out of air, and he heard it devolve into pained sobs. He felt the heat of the flames and the visceral satisfaction as his narration told him of the fruitless struggling from within. And his head was his own again, the Author's voice quiet- for the time being, anyways.

It wouldn't be long until the whispering started again, urging the Host to kill more and more. He chased the quiet it gave him, unaware that the voice in his head driving him to do so was none other than his own.

-----

Meanwhile, the Author lurked in the shadows, stalking the Host for a long time. He was no longer possessing him, like the Host seemed to think, but he didn't correct the man. In fact he moved on quickly, in search of a more permanent vessel.

For now, though he was still bound in a less physical form, his job as the god of corruption was done.

#whumptober 2022 #no. 5 #every whumpees needs #hyperthermia #blood loss #running out of air #fandom #fic #em writes #writing #fanfiction #the author markiplier #the host markiplier #disunity au

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beardedmrbean · 2 years

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The "We Build the Wall" federal fraud case hosted in Manhattan, New York, ended in mistrial Tuesday after a juror displayed "political bias" in bringing forward "government witch hunt" allegations.

Timothy Shea, from Castlerock, Colorado, was accused along with three others, including former Trump chief strategist Steve Bannon, of defrauding hundreds of thousands of donors in connection with an online crowdfunding campaign known as "We Build the Wall" that raised more than $25 million.

Under the false pretense that the money would be used to privately fund construction on the border wall, federal prosecutors said the defendants laundered money through a nonprofit to disabled Air Force veteran Brian Kolfage, the founder and public face of We Build the Wall, to fund his lavish lifestyle.

But Judge Analisa Torres of Federal District Court in Manhattan declared a mistrial Tuesday, recognizing jurors had reached an insurmountable impasse in deliberations regarding wire-fraud conspiracy, money-laundering conspiracy and falsifying records charges against Shea.

‘WE BUILD THE WALL’ ORGANIZERS PLEAD GUILTY TO FRAUD CONSPIRACY

The ruling comes after the judge received a note from 11 jurors last Thursday seeking to have the 12th replaced with an alternate. The note, which Torres read aloud in the courtroom, said the 12th juror had demonstrated "political bias," spoke of a "government witch hunt," and was not deliberating based on evidence presented in court, including by speaking of "political parties," according to The New York Times.

It also quoted the 12th juror as making statements such as, "Tim Shea is a good man. He doesn’t beat his wife," and "You just can’t vote to lynch someone." The 12th juror also argued Shea should have been tried in a southern state instead of New York because people there tend to vote a certain way.

The 11 other jurors asked the judge to replace the 12th with an alternate, but after privately questioning him and receiving assurance he could put aside biases and personal views that would prevent him from being fair and impartial, Torres ordered the jury to continue deliberating.

In another note Tuesday, jurors said a deadlock was "abundantly clear" and further deliberations had only left them "further entrenched in our opposing views," Politico reported.

"While the jury was unfortunately unable to reach a unanimous verdict in U.S. v. Timothy Shea, that in no way lessens our resolve or belief in the powerful and compelling evidence that we strongly believe proves his guilt," Damian Williams, U.S. attorney for the Southern District of New York, said in a statement. "We look forward to retrying this case as soon as possible."

Shea was the only one of four charged in the scheme to face trial; In April, Kolfage pleaded guilty to wire fraud conspiracy and tax-related charges and Andrew Badolato pleaded guilty to wire fraud conspiracy. Bannon was pardoned by former President Donald Trump before he left office.

The Times reported prosecutors said the laundered funds were used on home renovations, a luxury SUV and truckload of Trump themed energy drinks labeled to contain "12 oz. of liberal tears."

#nunyas news

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onceafk · 6 months

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Facts about this portrayal of Arthur in his own 'verse:

Arthur is 6 feet tall, broad-shouldered, and athletic with some muscles. He has some scarring on his torso, arms, and legs from battle and tournaments and such but it's very light. He also has a few on his head that are hidden by his hair.

At best, he is honorable and very trusting. At worst, he can be a stubborn, hot-headed, prat.

He speaks the Old English of his era and may know other languages.

He may be uneasy around magic but can be taught not to fear it.

This version is a Biromantic Bisexual Cisgender man who is usually either very much in the closet or has not explored his identity. His only pronouns are he/him. He's got a big heart, behind any facades he tries to put up, and gets a little touch starved. His father may be the reason he can be stand-offish.

He is neutral to positive towards the LGBT+ but may need some explanations of terms if he doesn't know them.

He wants love but waits for the right person: kind but also honest and spirited. He admires bravery and he likes those who challenge him. He was taught about what he would happen on his wedding night but he'd remain a virgin until then, only going so far as making out.

Arthur follows the New Religion, a mix of Celtic Paganism and Christianity that includes monotheistic worship of a god, angels, and holidays that celebrate the seasons like Beltane.

He is shy around most women and some men but is fine with being completely naked around his manservant, his physician, and possibly his knights. He has to trust the person or be in specific circumstances such as getting medical attention.

He usually goes to sleep shirtless and in trousers.

He has/appears to have trouble putting his clothes on properly. Doing his buckles on parts of his armor gets tricky too. Even so, he does pay attention to his appearance, especially when he has reason to want to look good. This may be due to anything from past concussions, the way he was raised, a genetic thing, or that he likes being tended to.

He respects rank/class but will not tolerate unfairness or abuses. This general rule may apply even to his father, if Uther goes too far and is unable to keep Arthur under his thumb.

He hates the thought of anyone dying for, or because of, him and will put himself in harms way to prevent that.

He regards Gaius as an honorary uncle, even if he doesn't say it aloud. The Court Physician delivered him during his birth had a hand in raising him. He trusts him completely.

He thinks of Morgana as a sister, whether or not he knows they are actual half-siblings, and will treat her accordingly. He is not attracted to her at all.

He shares a connection with Merlin, though he may not realize or fully understand it. They are two sides of the same coin, practically soulmates. Though he has his fun playing with Merlin, Arthur truly does think the best of him.

He also has an impression of his mother, like an imprint of her spirit, as he was created mostly from her.

He secretly thinks Lancelot is a better person than him overall, despite Lancelot lying about his heritage.

He loves dogs and horses but is hesitant to form bonds with other animals unless he is sure he's not going to be eating them or making them into trophies. If they're just pets, it's more likely he'll warm up to them.

Not only is he an accomplished knight, practically the best in Camelot, but he makes a decent diplomat. He is more a tactician than a strategist, because of what he's used to, but he tries his best.

He has an idea of what PTSD is ("horrifying memories"/"harrowing past experiences") and what triggers are ("things that remind you of terrible things that happened"), but may not know them by those terms. He has some PTSD himself.

As a child, he would spar with his father for fun and practice. Uther taught him how to do the sword spinning thing. He would also tell him stories. A lot of those stories were of accomplishments of Uther's.

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maudsleyhealth · 2 years

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Speech Delay in Children – How To Help?

For children who are hearing delayed, it can be hard to make conversation. But there are ways you can encourage your child to talk and explain their needs to help them out.

With these tips from experts, you can help your child develop good communication skills

Use a picture board or flash cards.

If you're using pictures to help your child learn new words, it's important to ensure that the pictures are in color and have good contrast. If a word has multiple syllables, try having your child write out each syllable separately so they can hear it clearly. You could also ask them to read the word aloud using their fingers as a pointer (this will make it easier for them).

To help your child learn new words with flashcards, make sure that each card contains only one word or phrase on each side (so there won't be any overlap). This will give the child plenty of time to focus on what he or she is reading before moving on!

Earn a reward for good behavior

A reward system can be a great way to encourage children to do what they want. There are many different kinds of rewards, but they typically fall into two categories: tangible or intangible.

Tangible rewards are things like toys and activities that you can see and touch. Examples of tangible rewards include taking your child on holiday or buying them a new toy when they've behaved well at home.

Intangible rewards are more subtle—they don't have any visual component, but instead just reinforce good behavior by being associated with positive emotions such as praise, affection, etc

Reduce background noise and distractions.

If you're trying to limit distractions, it's important to turn off the TV and any other devices that might be distracting. This includes smartphones, tablets, laptops and even some video games. The same goes for your child's toys: get rid of anything that makes noise when they play with it (like toy guns), or if there are too many items on their playroom floor like cars or blocks then put them away before playing together!

Allow your child to use gestures.

Gestures can help your child with speech.

Gestures are an important part of communication, so it's important for children to learn how to use them when they are talking or writing. Gestures can be used as a way for children who have difficulty speaking or articulating their thoughts verbally, as well as those who may have cognitive disabilities such as autism or Down syndrome. Gestures also allow children who have hearing impairments—such as birth defects—to communicate effectively with others around them by using these nonverbal signals instead of words alone.

Use videos and music to your advantage.

Music and videos can help your child learn. They are also beneficial to children who are still learning to talk, as they may have difficulty holding a conversation or making eye contact.

You should choose music that is interesting to your child, but not too fast-paced so he's unable to follow along with the lyrics. If you want the video for some reason, make sure it has clear audio and video quality so that you can understand what is being said! Be careful with videos where there is background noise like traffic or people talking nearby—this could hinder communication between parent and toddler if he isn't paying attention enough!

Give them time to process your question.

When a child is speaking, give them time to answer. Don't interrupt or try to hurry them along. If you're waiting for an answer and the child isn't responding, let them know that you're waiting and then wait some more until they've finished processing what they need to say before asking another question.

Play models for good speech.

Show the child how to say a word, and then have them repeat it back to you. You can follow this up by showing them how they use that same word in context - by saying it out loud and making up sentences as they go along. This will help them get used to using their words correctly before moving on to more complex tasks such as talking about a topic or reading aloud from a book (more on those later).

Talk about the things you are doing together.

You can help your child by talking about the things you are doing together. Your child may have a speech delay or some other difficulty that makes it hard for him or her to talk clearly and effectively. When talking with your child, make sure that he or she can hear you clearly and understand what you say.

For example: "I'm going shopping today." This is a simple sentence because it doesn't use many words and is easy for children of all ages and abilities to understand. It also shows how much fun people can have when they're doing something together like shopping!

If there's an activity that your child likes doing (such as reading), ask him or her if there's anything else interesting about those books. For example: "What do these books do?"

Get some professional help from an expert speech therapist in Abu Dhabi.

Speech therapy is a great way to help children with speech delay learn how to speak and overcome their difficulties. Speech therapy can help them develop their communication skills and make them more confident in speaking up for themselves.

A speech therapist at one of the speech therapy centers in Abu Dhabi will work with your child on the following:

Understanding how the brain works so that they understand what they are thinking when they have difficulty speaking.

Practicing new words, sentences and phrases until they feel comfortable using them in conversation with others around them. This can be done through games or teaching activities like puppets or dolls that represent different characters from movies or books!

Speech delay can be solved by encouraging the child, giving them a chance to answer questions, and giving them professional speech therapy in Abu Dhabi.

Encourage

This is one of the most important steps in helping your child overcome their speech problems. When encouraging your child to speak more often, will help him or her develop fluency and confidence when speaking. It also increases his or her vocabulary so that he or she can communicate better with others around him/her (family members).

Answer questions

If your child has difficulty forming words then he/she may find it difficult to answer questions, especially simple ones like "how old are you?" Or "what time is it?" Instead of answering these questions directly ask something else instead such as "What do you want for lunch today?" Or "What color shirt do I wear on Saturday?"

Remember, the most important thing is to listen and respect your child’s wishes. If you do this properly, it should not take long for your child to overcome their speech delay.

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lgckiyeon · 2 years

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FD SCENARIO: PROMPT 001 well, well, well. it begins.

she knew what she signed up for, of course—future dreams, another step forward towards her dreams, if kiyeon is willing to take it. her nerves hadn’t caught up to her yet, kept at bay for a little while until she’s finally being called. it was then that everything dawned on her; this is her chance. and just like with any opportunity given to her, there’s that probability she’ll mess things up, she’ll be fumbling backwards instead of moving forward. she had seen it all before after all, the sight of someone’s wings being clipped just as they’re soaring to greater heights, now bound to the ground unable to take flight.

kiyeon doesn’t want that to happen. but fate usually has other plans.

it’s only fitting that the moment she enters the room, she’s greeted by several cameras pointing toward a lonesome chair. presumably, where she’d be sitting for the remainder of her time here. as she’s walking to where she’s expected to be, her fingers are playing at the hem of her shirt, she’s chewing on her bottom lip, her heart is pounding loudly in her ears. miraculously, she reaches her destiny without so much as tripping, seating herself promptly.

one breath, two breaths, three breaths. get it together.

a staff explains what they’ll be doing here—scenarios. okay, so they’re asking her to think. kiyeon nods to let them know she understands, then she’s presented with a card. she reads it over more than once before she reads it aloud.

“after training has ended, you decide to go to the cafeteria to get some food. while falling in line, you notice that the line is really long that day because they decided to offer one of the cafeteria’s best dishes.” she uses these little details to paint an image in her head, including her favourite dish from the cafeteria, hoping it’d ease her nerves too. it’s working, somewhat. there’s a small smile stretching across her face as she imagines. “not wanting to miss the opportunity, you continue to wait in line until one of the senior idols has cut in front of you and doesn’t bother to apologize for their actions.” she mouths a tiny oh no, before she continues reading. “do you tell them about it and deal with the possible consequences?”

this is where she has to tread carefully. should she say something amiss, something that’ll ruin everyone’s perception of herself, no matter how small—that’ll be a dent to her path onwards. her hands fall to her lap, tearing her gaze away from the card to look at the camera. kiyeon tries to keep her smile bright, although she can’t help the slight strain in the way she’s pulling on her face.

deciding that honesty is the best policy in the end, she starts by speaking from her heart. “i think, the first thing i’d do... is put myself in my senior’s shoes.” so, in this make-belief scenario that she has been given, that’s what she does. “debuted idols have a very tight schedule, and they bear a lot more burden than one might think. they’re already out in the public’s eye, they have so much on their plate... so i wouldn’t mind it if they wanted to put something a bit more delightful, like a tasty dish, on that plate of theirs.” once again, kiyeon nods, this time to affirm her answer.

“in this case, if all they did was cut the line, then i won’t argue! they’re busy, and if there’s anyone who deserves the cafeteria’s best dishes then it’s the seniors who are paving the way for us trainees.” she’s sincere with her answer, the subtle tremble in her voice dissipating slowly, sounding more firm the more certain she becomes. “besides, it wouldn’t be the last time the cafeteria will be serving that dish,” kiyeon concludes with an easier smile.

#lgc:fdscenarios #( solos. )#wc: 656

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Can you do a reader x Damon salvatore where everyone thinks the only reason they are together is because damon sired her, but she gets angry and tells them the truth that she always had feelings and didn't say anything because she knew he liked Elena...

Sire Or No Sire

damon Salvatore x reader / masterlist

summary; it is easily perceived why you look at Damon the way that you do, though most people think that is an affect of him having turned you to save your life. And that is the last straw of you realising that they know nothing / warnings; mentions of Damon x Elena, mentions of Damon x Caroline, jealousy, angst, mentions of the sire bond, mentions of sex, swearing, angst, breakup, toxic friendships

Their voices, their aloud opinions, brought you nothing but pain, the tragedy seeping into your vervain allergic veins, as you shook your head. It was as though they thought that you were unable to hear their chatter, but you knew that they would be wrong with assuming so. You were no longer weak, with human senses flooding your every whim, you were a vampire.

An immortal. It felt strange to think that you would no longer age in physical layers, instead, your mind would be the only participant within your body to forever grow with the various memories that you would be collecting through the next decades. Though, you weren’t the only one, Caroline was in that room, reprimanding Damon for saving your life.

You could hear her words loud and clear, as the Salvatores and the rest of your friends stood by, some agreeing with her, such as Elena, whereas others remained silence, such as the vampire that had turned you in the first place. The viscous tone hissing out of the blonde’s mouth scathed you emotionally, and ended with you thudding back against Damon’s bedroom door, before entering the room, and ensuring that it was locked behind you.

“The two of you are only together because of the sire bond. You turning her, had become nothing more an excuse to fuck and put a label on it!”

Did she think that she was defending you? Because to you, it didn’t sound like it, but that was Caroline for you, always insistent of her opinion, though, you two did get along. The pair of you understood what it was like to be on the sidelines, whilst perfect Elena played the victim every time, and got any guy she wanted, even her friends were swayed with the young gentlemen first.

Elena Gilbert was the epiphany of perfect; she was the damsel in distress, giving the opportunity to whomever she sought after to come and save her. You weren’t her, dissimilar to the whiny brunette, you were prepared to fight the monsters that threatened your life, human or not. And that included Damon long ago, before you saw how sweet the over century old man was.

One thing that you had never done though, was date someone and bluntly flirt with their brother. That was crossing a line, you appreciated honesty, especially in this lifestyle, and Caroline had declared her thoughts. She spoke truthfully, believing her own words, though they were far from facts.

They needed to know that you weren’t invested in a relationship with Damon because of him turning you, it was something you had never asked for, nor dreamed about. But it had happened, and whilst it brought the pair of you closer, there was no maker bond, instead, there had already been a flirtatious brewing between the pair of you whilst you were still human.

You becoming like him gave the two of you more time together as he trained you to breathe idly in and calm your bloodlust. Or how in the middle of the night, he would come by your house, and awake you from a terror, afterwards taking you for an innocent stroll through the woods.

Without him, you’d have been on a path to nowhere, lost and unable to find a route to continue on, wading through the life after death with no direction, nor set course to keep you in line. Surely, you’d have murdered many a man or woman, if you were dependant with surviving with her bewitched curse of immortality, digging into their inviting throats with your dagger canine teeth, that pulsed to be fed.

“That’s a load of- you know what, think what you want to think, you have a history of jealousy filled, toxic and werewolf involved relationships, you are not exactly the best person here to judge me on my healthy and loving romantic partnership with y/n!”

Damon half yelled at the vampiric blonde, however, another tone was fast to respond to his defensive outburst and cause the both of you a disgruntled pair of expressions. “She was turned by you brother, that runs the risk of a sore bond appropriating her feelings.”

Oh, noble Stefan. He had caused you to snap, thrusting the door open to his brother’s bedroom open, making its hinges weaken, as you whisked through the halls in seconds, joining the compendium of mystic falls in the living space, all eyes turned to you, well aware that you had heard all their smart mouthed and toxic opinions.

The sire bond wasn’t something that was too uncommon, however it affected nothing in your life. It was just for them to pick at something that was good, they could never allow something that was actually decent to revel in existence. They had to be the ones with the perfect prissy lives, not others.

“Shut your mouth, ripper!” Yes, you pulled at that string of his life, dangling it degradingly before his eyes, watching as his eyes that were focalised into you turned sour. “I love your brother, and just because you loved the love triangles the pair of you would be involved in with bitchy Gilbert over there, or bloody Katherine, does not make any other people that he or you are with invalid!”

Elena stepped forwards, her doe eyes boring with contained anger towards you. Though instead of speaking to you, her words were directed at her ex, and she wanted to gouge your reaction. “You promised me that we were going to last forever, are you going to do the same to her?”

“No, because I don’t need a time span to appreciate her presence in. I don’t need to tell her lies nor make selfish promises, because with her I am a better man.” Damon sneered at her, coming to stand beside you, protectively wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“It’s the sire bond.” Elena stated furiously, hating the fact that she was not getting her way. In turn, you laughed, shaking your head at her incessant denial of allowing Damon to move on.

“Shut the fuck up, if you had maybe given a shit about me in the past, you’d have realised that I would stare at you enviously when you were at his side. But maybe you knew, and you just wanted to brag, but I can prove that there is no bond other than the one we already built together.”

“Yeah, and how are you going to do that?” She pestered, and with a sorrowful glance directed at Damon, you dropped your head, anything but proud with what you were about to do. Swiftly you turned, watching as Damon’s eyes widened.

“I’m going to leave.” Whence you began to walk, a hand grasped your wrist, keeping your feet locked where they were. Caroline’s voice broke through the air, her eyes were filled with regret, from all the things that she had said, and all the opinions that she had formed.

“You’re not serious! You’re gonna break up with him because of us?” Stiffly you nodded, watching as Damon felt a taken back. He gaped his mouth open, in shock.

“I’d do anything for my friends, despite the circumstances not being reciprocated. I’m not even allowed to be in a relationship with the man that I love because you are all endorsed with the idea that it’s some stupid bond. Yes, we have a bond, but it’s not a sire one.”

“Baby, don’t.” Damon practically begged, watching as you yourself were torn and conflicted in regards to the situation. A sad smile monitored your face, as you slipped out of his grasp.

“We might have to wait another lifetime until we’re allowed to be together without resorts of undermining and people that don’t really care about us. Some people want there to be a whole ass agility course to separate us, but maybe if we wait, we can prove how wrong they are, if they’re not dead by then.”

Caroline felt terrible, once again Stefan had taken his brother’s life from him, and Elena, well she felt accomplished. She went to reach for Damon’s arm, but he threw her consoling manner and herself across the room, heading straight after you, with a bottle of bourbon.

If you could leave them to prove a point, so could be; he loved you. That was enough, especially for him, he could leave those doses of poison behind, if he would grant himself permission without asking, a peaceful life with you.

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