#like... they were both in prison at the same time

[milkteahood]

a ghost for a knight

medieval au, chapter 2

chapter 1

Simon Riley x fem!reader

Summary: an ambush, or an organized crime almost gets you kidnapped

Slow burn romance, eventual smut, age gap (reader is in her 20s/ Simon is in his late 30s/ early 40s)

Weeks turned into months and Simon became your shadow. Always there. As cold and dark as ever.

The loud thunderstorm is what awoke you in the middle of the night. Your face scrunched up at the noise, your eyes slowly opening. You blinked a few times before raising yourself up on your elbows.

“Can’t sleep?”

His voice almost made you jump.

“Holy— you scared me” you paused, fist clutched over your chest “I’m still not used to this”

“You will be eventually”

“Or you could get out of my room”

“No”

“Are you even comfortable in that chair?”

“No”

An exasperated sigh left your lips as you allowed yourself to fall on your back. Simon started sleeping in your room ever since your little try to get away moment. If you could even call what he was doing sleep. He was always awake before you and if you woke up for any reason throughout the night, he seemed to always be awake for that too.

***

As the morning sun broke through the window, so did the smell of rain. Your maids were in the room, preparing your clothing, opening your windows and making sure everything was in check before waking you up. Simon was just outside the door. The only times he really left you alone was when you needed to change or bathe.

“Goodmorning” you said to him as you stepped out of your room.

“Goodmorning, your highness” he responded “what do you have in plan for the day?”

“Literature and music classes”

The conversation slowly faded as you were walking down the hallway. You got more used to Simon, as he did to you. The only thing that worried you was the quality of sleep he was getting, so while changing you mentioned to the maids that you wish for a second bed be prepared in your room, in the place of the chair Simon used.

***

After your classes, you found yourself in the library, enjoying a book while Simon was reading one too. He was hesitant at first but you mentioned how creepy it would be to just have him stare at you the whole time.

“Say Simon”

“Yes?”

“How was your life before all this?”

“Before becoming a knight of your guard?”

“Both”

“It was difficult” he said, raising his nose from his book. His brown eyes pierced through yours, almost as if he was begging you to stop asking questions. He couldn’t say no to you, so just please. Shut up. You got the hint.

It was very difficult without your daily activities. You were dying to sneak back into the catacombs of the castle. That was one place you could be alone, and one place no one would ever judge you. But you were scared. You didn’t want Simon to tell your dad about it.

It wouldn’t even matter you thought to yourself. This man is my prison as is.

Simon wasn’t very talkative and you really felt like your whole existence was a pain to him. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same. Still, growing fond of him wasn’t something you thought you’d experience. You also knew your feelings were misplaced. He wasn’t here because he wanted to. He was here because he was told to. His protective nature over you was nothing more than his need to stay alive. But still, you wondered. How can a man be so caring and not feel anything? You frowned at your own thoughts. Better said, how could you develop feelings for one of your guards. Did you really care about him? Or did you just love the attention. The attention your father never gave you, for he was always too busy running a kingdom.

“Your highness? Are you alright?”

His voice brought you back to reality. You didn’t know how long you have been out of it.

“Yes. Just lost in my thoughts”

He didn’t respond. Of course he didn’t. Your feelings weren’t exactly a priority. As long as your body was safe, your heart didn’t matter.

The rest of the day you didn’t really speak much. But Simon didn’t really seem to mind. On the contrary, he found a break from all your rambling quite refreshing. On the other hand, you were fuming. Mostly with yourself for allowing such thoughts to plague your mind. But could you really help it? Simon was always there. And he was the first person to not take your shit. Everyone else would jump off the castle if you ordered it so. But he would look straight into your eyes and tell you to quit being a brat.

A soft knock brought you back to reality. One of your servants walked in, bowed and began to speak.

“Your highness, the king is summoning you in the throne room” he spoke facing the floor.

“I see” you said and stood up. You didn’t look at the servant. Maybe if you did you would’ve seen he was not a man you recognized. He was not your servant at all.

Simon accompanied you to the throne room, but he stood outside, waiting for you. He wondered what it was all about but did not care too much.

Then, from inside the room, your scream pierced through his head.

“NO NO! WHO ARE YOU! GET AWAY FROM ME”

Simon burst into the room just in time to see these strange men trying to take you away. The king was no where in sight.

“You’re going to be very valuable to an enemy kingdom” one man burst into laughter “who would’ve thought infiltrating this castle would be so damn easy” another snorted.

They didn’t see Simon, they were too busy celebrating their victory. So they also didn’t see when he took his sword and cleaved a man’s head off. Time stood still, you were covered in the blood that spilled everywhere and the men’s eyes were wide. Quickly, they tried to compose themselves. They were many and he was just one man. So they thought it would be easy to take him down. But oh, just how wrong they were. One by one, they all fell, they blood and guts spilling everywhere. Yet Simon stood calm, breathing heavily, he looked at the dead bodies, eyes as cold and dark as ever. Just like a ghost.

When he finally turned to look at you, Simon saw just how scared you were. You were hyperventilating and covered in blood.

“It’s alright now, your highness. Let’s take you back to your room” he spoke, picking you up.

You clung onto him, face buried into the crook of his neck, shaking uncontrollably. He felt almost amused at your reaction, but there was also something else. Something he didn’t really feel before. Something he quickly pushed aside. No, it was improper to even allow such thoughts.

The only people Simon trusted at this moment were his men. And he gave them clear orders to find and execute every single intruder and the rat.

Once back in your room, Simon barely managed to peel you off of him.

“Your highness. I have to secure the door”

You let go and sat on your bed. Simon locked the door and made sure no one saw you enter.

“What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know. But somehow criminals managed to enter the palace”

“Do you think my father is ok?” you asked, hugging your knees to your chest

“I hope so. But you are my main priority for now, you highness” he responded, making your heart skip a beat.

“You should however change. We will be safe here” he said, and pointed to the room connected to your main chamber. It was a bathroom “do you.. know how to do it yourself? I apologize, even your maids are a risk for now”

“I’m not dumb, Simon. Yes I can bathe myself” you responded with a soft chuckle.

That was good, Simon thought to himself. At least you were starting to relax.

You emerged from the bathroom with wet hair and a more comfortable gown, but most importantly, you weren’t covered in blood anymore.

“You should rest up” he said to you “me and my men will figure it out in the meantime”

“I don’t want to be alone”

“You won’t be. I will stay here. I have my men to check the perimeters”

He helped you get in bed and just as he was about to turn away, you grabbed his hand, squeezing it.

“Yes?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Y/N”

He was waiting for you to continue.

“You can call me Y/N”

“I cannot”

“Yes. When it’s just us. You can”

If you wouldn't have paid attention, you would’ve missed the way his gaze softened ever so slightly.

“Alright then, get some rest then… Y/N” he said and gently stroked your hair after you let go of his hand.

.

.

.

tag list: @sushiumex

#simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost #cod #cod ghost #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty ghosts

[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | five

index

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: nothing that I can think of, just some fluff and nimue and azriel bantering

Two days had passed since Nimue had been there, in that house, in that city.

She spent the day inside her room, in silence, talking to herself or to The Voice, when that entity deigned to honor her with its presence. She wondered how it was able to overcome the magical guards that surrounded the entire house, how it got there without alerting Rhysand or any of the others.

Food simply materialized on a small desk in the room assigned to her. Clothing too.

Sometimes she heard the others talking through the walls: she heard them gathered in the living room discussing strategies or plans; she heard Feyre crying at night, lamenting the fate of her sisters and the guilt that consumed her; she heard Cassian and the blonde female, Morrigan, talking in the living room about trivial matters.

What she didn't hear was that dull noise on the other side of the bond. She hadn't heard the voice or the steps of this Azriel fellow. She hadn't smelled his scent, of cedar and mist, the same scent she had smelled on the dead spies her father had sent to Prythian.

In her head, she had begun to imagine stories about each of them. Her own observant nature had told her that Cassian must be some kind of warrior, a commander or general in Rhysand's army; Morrigan, on the other hand, must be involved in politics, as her contributions in those small meetings she heard on the other side of the house were purely rational and theoretical observations, worthy of a brilliant mind; Azriel, she assumed, would be a spy, hence that distinctive aura surrounding him, and the fact that her father's dead spies were imbued in his scent and that of his pretty dagger.

She spends her days like this, locked in with her own thoughts.

Until the third day, when someone knocks on her door. Sitting in a small armchair, Nimue simply waits for whoever it is to decide to come in: it's not her house, she has no right to prohibit anyone from entering.

When the door opens, the petite figure of Feyre slips into the room, closing the door behind her. They both look at each other, in silence, Feyre standing by the door and Nimue sitting in front of her.

Nimue knows she has nothing to say, however, Feyre seems to be struggling to find the right words.

"You're not our prisoner, you know that, right?" Nimue nods, but says nothing more. "You're free to roam the house, go out, and do whatever you do in your free time. We're not your jailers."

"I know, this is what I do in my free time," and with her hand, she simply gestures around, towards nothing. Because that's what she does in her free time: nothing. It's either train or wait for something to happen, nothing more. "I've considered it would be best to stay here. My presence is not welcomed in this house, and I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. I know it's not a good time."

Nimue didn't want to tell her that she heard her cry at night, but nevertheless, Feyre's gaze was filled with understanding.

"It's not a good time, you're right, but you've helped us to make it not even worse. Don't judge them by how they treat you, they're a bit short-sighted. That's what happens when you've been living the same life for five hundred years," a small laugh escaped Feyre's lips, and Nimue couldn't help but smile herself. There was something about that woman that softened her heart, like Ferlan, the old cook who told her stories. "They'll accept you, sooner or later. Give them time."

Feyre directed her a smile so warm and friendly that for a moment, Nimue felt breathless.

How sad it was, to shrink in her place at such a small act of kindness, because in her life she had never known such a thing.

Nimue nodded, trying to return the woman's smile.

"Come with me."

She was surprised, but she obeyed and stood up. The brunette woman walked through the halls of the house, with Nimue trailing behind. She pointed out each room; to the right, a beautiful office; to the left, a smaller second living room; downstairs the kitchen and the living room where she had already been, and a little further down the hall, a huge library.

Nimue couldn't wipe the constant look of amazement off her face: yes, she had seen libraries, offices, kitchens, living rooms. But nowhere had she felt that warmth emanating from the walls, that sweet smell, a mixture of all the scents of those who inhabited it.

She felt Feyre's eyes on her, with an amused expression on her face.

"You have the same look as a child who has tried candies for the first time."

Nimue frowned, tearing her gaze away from the shelves full of books to look at the brunette, puzzled.

"What is a candies?"

Feyre placed a hand on her chest, letting out a small cry of indignation. With her hands outstretched, she loudly asked for some candy and they immediately materialized in her palms.

Nimue looked at them as if she were looking at a six-legged horse: balls of all colors, with shiny wrappers and all kinds of scents. She took one and opened it, imitating Feyre, who popped one into her mouth without hesitation.

When the princess put it in her mouth, she could swear she had never tasted anything so delicious in her life. Yes, the food at her Palace was good, but that... That was a whole new world.

As she savored it and let it roll around in her mouth, she reached out her hands into the air.

"More," she said aloud. Feyre let out a genuine laugh that, once again, softened her heart. "More, please. I've never tasted anything so delicious in my life, I want more."

Candies began to sprout from the palms of her own hands, overflowing and falling to the ground. Before she knew it, a small pile of candies and many more things had formed at her feet: there were lollipops, spiral-shaped candies, candy canes. There were even small buns appearing at her feet and in her hands.

Feyre couldn't stop laughing. The innocence and naturalness of the princess had fallen upon her like sunlight, after being immersed in her own shadows for the past few days.

"The house really likes you, it's not willing to please everyone like this."

"I know," said Nimue, "sometimes I feel like it's trying to talk to me. It's such ancient magic, it must be a very special spirit."

A last and enormous bun appeared in her hands, as if the house itself were appreciating Nimue's acknowledgment.

She looked up at Feyre, with a silly smile she couldn't wipe off her face. It even hurt her face, as she couldn't remember if she had ever smiled so much in her life.

"Come, let's go outside."

Feyre took her hand, and while Nimue took one last bite of the bun, they left behind that small pile of sweets. She glanced back, and in a low voice, she thanked the house again.

Before she knew it, Feyre had pushed her out into the same courtyard where they had landed days ago, just after escaping from Hybern.

The sun was high in the sky, and Nimue had to squint to see anything. She found herself in the same situation as three days ago, completely overwhelmed by the light, the sounds, the smells, the vastness of the sky above her.

She took in as much air as her lungs would allow, and allowed herself to enjoy it all: the blue sky, the cool breeze coming from the mountains, the smell of the sea and salt that reminded her so much of home, when the sea breeze would sneak through her windows.

Twenty years locked away. And now, she felt that not even a whole lifetime would be enough to see it all, to feel it all.

She still held Feyre's hand, who couldn't stop watching her by her side.

"I believe you. I see in you a scared child who has managed to escape the clutches of an evil man," she said, carefully and in a low voice. Nimue felt a breath of fresh air, which tangled in her hair and danced around her face. "I choose to trust you because I see goodness and light in you, fighting to do something good."

Nimue brought a hand to her face: she found that, once again, she was crying.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you, for your trust. I understand what it's like to be in your place, I would also be suspicious of me. But I will prove to you that I can be useful to win this war."

Feyre nodded and smiled.

"I hope you'll be useful to us for much more than just the war."

And then Nimue felt it.

After three days of dead silence, something in her chest began to vibrate again.

She looked up at the sky to see two winged shadows approaching them. Instinctively, she covered Feyre with her body, prepared for anything.

Azriel and Cassian landed carefully on the courtyard, under Nimue's watchful gaze. Those wings were something impressive.

"What are you doing here alone with her, Feyre?" Azriel asked. He walked threateningly towards the two females, and Nimue felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, like a cat ready to attack. "It's not safe, she should be under surveillance."

"Azriel-"

"I'm right here, don't talk about me like a dog," Nimue interrupted, taking a step forward. Azriel was tall, yes, but so was she. Face to face, she didn't feel the least bit intimidated by him, and she even realized how surprised the male was by the indifference she felt towards his intimidation. Nimue smiled. "That thing of spreading your wings like a bird and seeming bigger might work with others, not with me."

She didn't know what prompted her to act like that with the winged male. Perhaps it was his anger, which through the bond infected her with that anger and rage that left her seeing red.

Azriel growled.

"Give me one reason to trust you. Then, I'll let you roam freely around my house and my city."

"I saved your life. Shall I remind you?" Nimue takes another step forward, getting so close to him that she can see the tiny specks of dark brown in his amber eyes. "If I hadn't taken you out of there, who knows what my father would have done to you. I also remind you that it was me who pulled the arrow out of your chest without poisoning you."

"But something tells me you're doing that to win our favor and trust. Who says you're not a spy for your father? Only a fool would trust you."

"Hey, I trust her," Feyre says. She and Cassian look at each other, not knowing what to do.

They don't fully understand the situation either. Azriel had always been cautious and foresighted, slow to trust people and always suspicious of others' intentions. However, there was something about Nimue... They couldn't quite put their finger on it, but it was a kind of blind trust.

Azriel ignores Feyre and continues accusing and accusing.

"What I really can't wrap my head around is how we've never known anything about you. My spies have been in the Court of the King of Hybern for years and I've never heard a whisper about a princess. If you're so powerful and important, explain to me how not a single person on the other side of the sea knows of your existence."

"Maybe you're not as good at your job as you claim to be."

Azriel feels like he's about to explode, now more than ever.

He has to fight against all his impulses not to kill her on the spot. But at the same time, there's something in him that dies just imagining her bleeding.

His own mind contradicts him, and he feels like he's going to split in two. So before any of that happens, he lets out one last growl and leaves, flapping his wings and causing a gust of wind that tousles Nimue's hair.

There they stand, Feyre, Cassian, and Nimue, watching Azriel enter the house.

They look at each other, not knowing what to say, and the princess feels her heart racing.

It was so complicated, dealing with all those pure and unfiltered emotions that came to her from the other side of the bond...

Cassian snorts and then smiles at the two females.

"Would you like some tea?"

Nimue furrows her brows and looks at Feyre, then at Cassian.

"What is a tea?”

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @krowiathemythologynerd @annblvd @annamariereads16

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel #azriel imagine #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #cassian #rhysand

[comradekatara]

i read somewhere that, after the war, zuko at least hands hama over to the swt instead of keeping her in fire nation prisons 'till the end of her life. Which is nice, I think. But I'm also curious as to how that would work out.

Most notably: how do you think it'd go down if she were to meet Pakku? given they both have some sort of connection to kanna's life, the idea of them being forced to interact even once entertains me very much. like, old waterbending master pakku—white lotus member—who has grown up in a patriarchal society and actively forbidden women from training to fight, under the precedent they are somehow ontologically weaker, fragile, and belonging in the healing huts... THAT guy, meeting his former fiancé's old friend: (or current wife's if you go by canon, which, eugh) A woman who not only fought in the front lines but ended up becoming one of the most skilled, creative, and deadly waterbenders in history. How would he react when finding out that a woman came up with blood bending? How badly would Hama mind-fuck him?? Because I'm confident they'd hate each other's guts-- no way she'd tolerate him,,,

And on a similar note—how would Kanna feel upon reuniting wirh Hama and discovering what she put Katata through, in your opinion? Idk, I'm just full of puppetmaster thoughts today. Hama is incredibly interesting and I wish she wasn't handled so much like a Halloween Specisl creepy witch, (even though katara herself is handled and written pretty well in this episode, i think. but i digress.)

i mean obviously i think about this all the time. i personally think that zuko hands hama over to the swt upon katara's request, and she and aang personally deliver her on appa (sokka is not there, for the very deliberate reason that if he knew what they were doing he would very vocally disapprove). and so katara is sort of retraumatizing herself by doing this, but she also feels like it's necessary specifically because she needs to be able to look hama in the eye and tell her why they're not actually the same (especially now that she actually did bloodbend someone in cold blood). katara has the love and support and safety to step back from her anger and her pain and her grief and hang onto her own humanity and allow herself to be the bigger person even in moments of abject rage and acute trauma, and hama doesn't. hama is a victim of her circumstance, and that's part of what makes her so uniquely terrifying to katara, because katara has that same capacity to make people hurt, she has the same tools at her disposal, and she has the same justifications to exercise that power. but unlike hama, she hasn't actually been pushed past her limits. sometimes she can see the cliff's edge, and sometime she even teeters on the line, but hama was fully just shoved off without a parachute, and that's really what separates them above all. i think katara should be allowed to acknowledge that and forgive herself for that, even if hama doesn't directly apologize to her (although in my mind she does, and it's not enough, but it's also so much more than katara ever expected to hear). even if it is too late for hama, katara deserves to heal.

frankly, i don't really give a shit about pakku or his reaction to hama. i also don't actually think that he thinks woman are ontologically incapable of being talented waterbenders of whatever; he's a pretty worldly guy, the reason he clings to these traditions isn't born of the belief that they're grounded in logical evidence like sokka's is, it's because he believes in the preservation of a system that benefits and valorizes him. pakku thinks katara belongs in the healing huts because he comes from a culture that dictates that women belong in the healing huts. like, he might also subscribe to the bioessentialist logic that women are better healers and men are being fighters, but that honestly doesn't really matter, because (unlike sokka) his epiphany lies not in the fact that woman can fight, but in the fact that his role in upholding these systems has actively driven his loved ones away due to his cruelty. he decides to be kinder, to women and in general, because he realizes that being an asshole has negative consequences. but frankly, who cares what he thinks of hama. realizing that your sister tribe in the south deserves aid and protection after being subjected to a century of genocide is kind of too little too late imo. unlike katara, sokka, aang, or kanna, who can approach this situation from the perspective of being a genocide survivor who even remotely understands hama's trauma, pakku really has no place in this conversation to me.

as for kanna...... god. hama/kanna reunion is genuinely one of the most heart-wrenching concepts to me in all of atla. as a sidenote, hama/kanna fanfic goes so hard every time. there's a total of like 15 fanfics for them on ao3 (last i checked) but they're all sooooooo. fucking delicious. tide locked........... ugh. anyway. i cannot fathom kanna's reaction upon learning that her closest friend once upon a time is not only alive, but also a convicted felon, for crimes including but not limited to manipulating her granddaughter, violating her (and sokka's) bodily autonomy in cruel and perverse ways, and forcing her to participate in that mode of violence in a way that traumatized her forever. even if you don't read them as former lovers (although it is indubitably better that way) it's so gut-churning. kanna lost so many people over the course of her life, and to learn that one of them has returned but in the worst way possible must be mind-boggling and distinctly unreal. like how do you even process that. first, how do you process how much pain she must have went through to become the kind of person who is capable of doing this, and then, how do you process the knowledge that the person you once loved most in the world irreparably hurt the person you now love most in the world? obviously she would always prioritize katara's safety over anyone else's no matter what, but god. kanna has led such a fascinating and impossibly difficult life, and it's not over yet.

#kallianthi #asks #analysis #postwargaang #hama #katara #pakku #kanna #hamaxkanna #hama&katara #also i didn't mention it in the post itself bc i've talked about it before but yeah i very much agree that i wish hama had been framed #differently because i do feel like making her into a cackling witch kind of undermines the whole point of the episode #she's someone who is deserving of our empathy and understanding despite her violence and by reducing her into a caricature #we lose that nuance #but otherwise it's such a fascinating episode.... #kataraaa.... katara i love you katara <33333

[simplydannie]

A story that suddenly came to my mind one day. And I just couldn’t shake it off! I apologize for the angst 💔

Velvet and Veneer are sent back to Under Rageous to serve the rest of their term, until one day, a bail comes for Velvet and an invitation back to Mount Rageous.

One condition: Veneer is not invited and has another fate awaiting him. What will she choose?

Prison. Otherwise known as the Mount Rageous Detention Center for Troubled Youth.

That’s where Velvet and Veneer stayed for the first couple of months. But the truth was brought to the surface eventually… the twins were from the under-city… and that region could take care of their own.

The twins were in a black vehicle headed back down to the Under Rageous facility. The ride was long and silent. Velvet and Veneer sat in the back seat, handcuffed, still sporting their orange uniform. Veneer looked over to his sister.

“Hey Vels.” He attempted to make small talk. Velvet had ignored him since they got to prison. The last words she spoke to him was at the Rage Dome, where he made everything go to hell. She wanted no part with him. Velvet practically forced them at the detention center to room them apart after she severely beat him up. She didn’t care what he was up to, many times he requested to see her, but she refused, she just couldn’t stand him at the moment.

“Vels?” He attempted to say it again, but she continued to ignore him. He missed her voice, he missed the interaction between the two of them. After all these months of not talking, they felt like strangers more than siblings. Veneer did what he did for their own good… at least he hoped so… it didn’t feel like it now that they were headed back to the under-city.

The lighting outside lost its brilliance, its joy, they knew the full, gloomy light of the under-city. The darkness that loomed over them, no light, nothing coming through from above. They glanced upon the darkened buildings, the dark cybernetic feel of what is Under Rageous. The car continued further until they came upon a facility. It was about 4 stories high, walls dark and gray….the Under Rageous Detention Center for Criminal Youth… yes, big difference.

They were escorted from the car towards the front gates. At least the detention center in Mount Rageous was adorned in jewels and gems, beautiful white plastered walls. It felt like a resort… but this one, this was made to feel more like prison, more like hell.

They walked through the front gates and into the building where a Rageon was waiting for them. He was tall, pale skin, though not nearly as pale as the twins. Short, dark red stringy hair, buzzed from one side. He was dressed in all black: cargo pants, boots, jacket. When he smiled, he displayed his filed down sharp teeth.

“We’ll take it from here gentlemen.” He shooed away the Mount Rageous guards. Without hesitation, they left the twins in the presence of the mature Under Rageon. “Well, well, Velvet and Veneer. What an honor. I have to admit you hit down here as much as you hit up there… just not for the same reasons. Follow me.”

Without a word the twins followed him down the hall. They walked by cells that contained for less friendly, far less attractive inmates. These inmates defined the word brutal in both appearance and attitude. Velvet walked by unbothered, while Veneer shrunk himself smaller.

“Now here in Under Rageous, you broke the most important rule we have: do not talk about the kidnapping or torture of Trolls to anyone..”

“Tell that to him.” Velvet gestured at her brother. Veneer swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. The Under Rageon turned and cocked his head, a smirk forming in his lips.

“The fate of your sentence has yet to be determined. In the meantime, enjoy your stay.” He opened the cell that would house both twins.

“No. I’m not staying with him.” Velvet signaled to her brother.

“Oh?”

“Last time I almost killed him. Unless you want that blood in your hands.” She stated.

“I honestly don’t care what you do to each other. But I need you both unharmed in the meantime, but very well. Follow me pretty boy.” The Rageoun motioned. Veneer gave Velvet a terrified glance… him? Alone? At an Under Rageous prison? But Velvet could care less. She walked into the cell and never looked back at him. The Under Rageous guards grabbed him firmly by the arm and led him away. He glanced back at his sister, hoping she would turn around, hoping she would change her mind, call out his name…she never did…

The guard guiding Veneer shoved him fiercely, “Keep walking.” Veneer glanced at the cells as they passed by. They were full of scary looking Under Rageons…Under Rageons that could definitely rip out his throat. The thought of rooming with one of those guys was terrifying. He hoped and hoped he wouldn’t. Veneer was escorted to a cell where they shoved him inside.

“Traitor.” The guard mumbled before he left. Veneer cocked his head to the side. Traitor? Was he really a traitor? Perhaps he was….he did betray his own sister up at the Rage Dome. He threw her under the bus along with himself. Perhaps he should’ve spared her. He should’ve lied and said it was all his idea, leave her out of it. He sat on the bed and buried his face in his hands.

“I am so sorry, Vels.” He whispered. He had to make it up to her, he just had too. But how? They were on opposite ends of the prison now, and she dared not talk to him. Standing up he walked over to the desk within his cell. Veneer rummaged through hoping to find….

“Yes!” He exclaimed, pulling out a pencil and paper….He would write. He would write to her hoping she’d accept his letters….He would write to Floyd, hoping the little Troll would respond to him. But he had to be cautious, he couldn’t give the people of Under Rageous any idea where the Trolls were…so perhaps writing to Floyd would have to wait…

Days rolled by, and it was obvious the twins had to be kept away from the Under Rageous inmates…for the twins' own good. Velvet had nearly gotten into a couple of fights before Veneer jumped in to save her. She knew it was his way of trying to make up to her, trying to talk to her, but she wouldn’t give in. At one moment an inmate was severely beating her brother, but Velvet didn’t budge, she didn’t move…. She enjoyed watching the pain. Why? She never really enjoyed it before? She would rage at anyone who touched her brother that way. But there, in the yard, as the giant boy swung away at Veneer’s face, Velvet’s eyes began to glow pink…Her desire was for Veneer to feel the pain she did at his betrayal…and this was it.

Keep hitting him, he deserves it, her mind raced. She was broken out of her trance when the guards came in to break the fight apart. The tall, red-haired head Rageon returned, “You guys aren’t going to make this easy are you.” He smiled a sharp toothed grin.

They spent the rest of the passing days isolated from the rest of the compound…and each other. Velvet began marking the days on her walls. Eventually those days turned into weeks. She continued to receive letter upon letter from Veneer. Velvet would just throw them away, he still wasn’t worth her time, perhaps he may never be worth anything again. She began to wonder what would be of her…What was the penalty down here in Under Rageous?

A black SUV type vehicle pulled up in front of the Under Rageous detention center. The door was opened and an adult female Rageon from the upper city stepped out. Her white heels clicked down the hall. Her suit was maroon, adorned in jewels and gems. She had sepia colored skin and carob hair pulled into a ponytail. Her sunglasses covered her eyes. She continued to walk until she was at the door of the lead Rageon of the establishment.

“I assume you’re in charge.” She demanded as she stood by the door.

“Please, make yourself at home.” He mocked standing up from behind his desk. He didn’t really care or like Mount Rageons much, but this one was breathtaking.

She crossed her arms and clicked her heels against the floor, “Word got to my boss that our twins were sent back down here.”

“Really? After all these weeks you barely notice? Not very observant are we?” He smirked.

She ignored his mockery and continued to speak, “It was against my bosses wishes. She’s going to deal with that later. For now, what’s the bail price on our girl's head?” The male Rageon tilted his head, confusion plastered on his face.

“Velvet. What is her bail price?”

“I was not told they would be out for bail. There is a penalty for what they did, rather, what they stupidly admitted too.” He responded.

“If I remember correctly, Veneer was the one to openly admit to using Trolls. Now, I will only ask one more time. What. Is. The. Bail. Price.”

There was no staring this woman down. She was the definition of power…she was part of the power up in Mount Rageous, which meant money .... and lot’s of it.

“For the troubles she nearly cost us: a quarter million.” His grin was smug. Perhaps the price was too high even for the snobby upper Rageons…

“Done.” She responded plainly. He was lost for words, his mouth gaped open at her quick agreement.

“You’re serious? A quarter million for some bratty teen.”

The woman smiled, “Oh you don’t know the half of it… Besides, you’re going to like this part next.”

“And what is that?”

“My boss is able to pay double the price if you could deal with our little disappointment we call Veneer.”

The male Rageon smiled, “Okay, keep talking.”

A couple more days since the meeting between the two Rageons had passed. Velvet continued marking up her wall. Her room was a mess as she rampaged through everything, tossing and tearing everything out of anger. She felt weird, something about her wasn’t right… she didn’t feel right ...what she wanted was more Troll. The essence they gave off gave her a euphoria like never before. It caused the chemistry in her brain to feel and think in ways she could never have thought of…it had made her body feel strong and energetic. Now, she felt weak, vulnerable to the world…

Her thoughts were interrupted as two guards came in. They tossed her a duffle bag. “Pack up.” They told her.

“What.” She plainly demanded.

“Pack up. Your bail is here.”

Veneer was in his cell writing another letter to his sister. He’d lost count how many he has written, and to none did she ever write back. He’d wish he could write to Floyd, but has yet found a way to here in the under-city.

Loneliness began to settle in each passing day. He didn’t do well with loneliness… that’s when the dark thoughts began swirling in his mind. Funny, he’d never had those thoughts before, only recently after using the Trolls essence. A nagging feeling and desire to hurt himself would daily come, as if his body craved for that sensation. Veneer would do his best to fight it off, but he didn’t know how much longer he could.

The doors to his cell opened. He turned to find two guards coming in, cuffs in hand.

“W-what did I do now?” He stammered.

One guard smirked, “Time for your sentence of your penalty.”

“P-penalty? I thought we w-would just serve our time and b-be done.” Veneer began to stutter as his nerves kicked in.

“This ain’t Mount Rageous, pretty boy.” The guard came over to him, tightly securing the cuffs around his wrists. Veneer winced at the coldness and pain the cuffs sent throughout his body. They led him out and back down the hallway…. They led him past Velvet's cell… it was empty.

“Hey! Where’s my sister?!”

After gathering her things, Velvet was escorted towards a back exit. She held her bag close, in its pocket she stuffed some sort of shank, a weapon, just in case things went south. Who in the world would bail them? And why? At the end of the hallway stood the tall male Rageon they met when they first arrived.

“Leaving us so soon?” He smirked as he opened the door. Velvet hesitated, but eventually, she stepped out the door….in front of her was a black SUV. Standing right by it was a Rageon woman: sepia colored skin, carob hair…. Velvet recognized her right away.

“There’s my little pop star.”

The two guards ignored Veneers demand and continued to pull him down the hall.

“Where’s Velvet?” He began to pull, he began to resist.

“Enough beanpole!” The guards began poking him with more force as Veneer continued to resist.

“Velvet!” He called out hoping he’d hear her voice. What did they do to her? Where did they take her? He’d kill them all if he found out she was hurt. “VELS!” He called out again.

“What the hell? Why are you here?” Velvet crossed her arms and stared the woman down.

“Why do you think so?” She gestured towards the car. “We bailed you out. All crimes have been washed from your record. The little “incident” that occurred at the Rage Dome has been taken care of. You’re free to come back and live the life you once had.”

Velvets mouth dropped… she could go back? She could get out of here and go back…the fame, the adoration, the love she could get once more. She came back to reality for a moment

“Where’s Veneer?” Velvet asked.

“He’ll be taken care of, but this invitation back up top is only extended to you. Unfortunately, your brother has failed us, he won’t be invited back.”

“So he stays here?”

“As I said, he’ll be taken care. We made sure of it. It’s the least we could do, actually.” The woman opened the door. “Well, what will it be?”

Velvet had a choice… remain here in hell with her brother, or go back and redeem herself in Mount Rageous. She had no intention of stopping, it was Veneer who spoiled everything when he decided to be noble. Why did she have to pay for his stupid decision? She already had anyway… he wanted this, so he could suffer here alone.

Velvet picked up her duffle bag and made her way inside the car. She didn’t see the woman smirk triumphantly. She looked at the tall male Rageon still at the entrance to the facility and gave him a small nod.

“Show time boys.” He said as he went back inside.

“Let me go!” Veneer thrashed and struggled, he managed to hit one of the guards nearly freeing himself.

“Kids a fighter.” They murmured to themselves. Slowly, but surely they finally made it to their destination… the medical ward. They kicked the doors open as they pulled in a strugglingVeneer.

“Where’s my sister!” Veneer demanded over and over. He headed butted a guard.

CRUNCH!

“AHHH YOU LITTLE BRAT!” The guard held tightly to his nose as it began to bleed. Finally free, Veneer ran towards the direction from which they came. He opened the doors…

THUD!

Running full force into a body he fell back.

“And where do you think you’re going?” It was the tall, red head, male Rageon. He snapped at his guards behind him, they rushed over and got Veneer back on his feet. Four of them carried him to a seat in the far corner of the room. Veneer continued to struggle as they strapped him down.

“W-what is this…” Veneer looked at his surroundings: needles, syringes, some type of bottled chemicals all aligned the drawers and shelves. The male Rageon took a small wired pad, he unbuttoned Veneers shirt and placed it over his heart. He strapped his head against the headrest.

“It’s your penalty.” The Rageon smiled.

The car ride back to Mount Rageous was silent. Velvet glanced to her left… where Veneer would normally sit. He’d always be next to her. It felt weird… it felt wrong. Was she doing the right thing?

She finally broke the silence, “How will they take care of him?”

The woman looked up from her phone surprised, “Excuse me.”

“Veneer. You said you made sure they’d take care of him, how?” Velvet asked again.

The woman smiled, attempting to sound and look sincere. “We made sure no harm would come to your brother again. That he spend whatever time he has down there in peace…. He won’t suffer. We promise you that.”

A guard rolled up Veneer's sleeve as the head male Rageon gathered a liquid into a needled syringe. The heart monitor began beeping loudly as Veneer grew nervous.

“Penalty? What penalty?” He asked.

“Someone didn’t like what you did. Neither did we. You almost exposed are high value black market down here. This wasn’t going to be in the books, but these people paid handsomely.” He flicked the needle to make sure the liquid was secured

“…. Paid for what?” Veneer asked again.

“Why, your death penalty of course.”

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP…

The heart monitor went out of control as genuine fear entered his body. He attempted to pull himself free, but he was stuck tight.

“Where’s my sister? I want to see her please.” He begged.

“Sorry kiddo. Your sister decided to go back. Live the life of luxury.” The man smiled as he neared Veneer with the needle.

“No… she wouldn’t… you’re lying…” Pain set in Veneer's heart. Did she really just abandon him? Leave him here to his death?

“Vels!” He cried out as he struggled against his restraints. She wouldn’t leave him, she’d come in right now to stop them. “Vels!!”

“Hold him steady.”

The guards around Veneer placed a firm grasp on him. Even through his restraints he managed to move and thrash.

“VELS!” He cried again, tears staining his eyes. “VELS PLEASE!….. FLOYD!… IM SORRY! ….PLEASE SOMEONE!”

The male Rageon inserted the needle…. And pushed the liquid through…it came quickly….

An irresistible calmness overcame Veneer's body, he could feel himself begin to grow limp.

“….Velvet…..Floyd…” His voice began to turn into a whisper, the heart monitor began to slow down.

BEEP…BEEP…BEEP

Yet, he still tried fighting the chemicals that tried to claim his body, but it wasn’t enough. Veneer saw his vision begin to blur, he lost all feeling in his body, the only thing he could still feel was his heart beat slowly fading….

“Vennie. Sweetheart, can you hear me?” He heard his mothers voice. A peace began overcoming his body

“…mom…” He barely whispered.

“It’s okay honey. Let go. Come home to us. We miss you.”

“…. okay…..”

The heart monitor flat lined.

#trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #velvet and veneer #trolls veneer #veneer #velvet trolls #velvet #fandom #velvet and veneer trolls #trolls au #trolls #trolls 3 veneer #trolls 3 velvet #veneer trolls #trolls velvet #trolls fanfic #fanfic writing #fanfics #fanfic #fanfiction #au #oneshot

[geese-in-a-frock-coat]

What's your evidence for Watts and Murdoch being autistic? (I totally agree btw)

Hello, internet stranger. Buckle up cause I've thought too hard about this.

Ok disclaimer I have not really sat down and watched the whole thing for a hot minute. Its past nine, you're just gonna have to trust me this one.

Credentials: Mega autisitc

Murdoch:

Does not understand social conventions. Like this ones pretty obvious. He doesn't understand why people keep dogs. Raises his kid in a completely non traditional way. Frequently doesn't get why people care about something that he sees as not being worth it (sports and popular trends and so forth).

Doesn't like small talk

Cares about justice NOT the law. The thing that really makes me think he's autistic is that he cares about things being just and is prepared to break the rules to do so. The main example being he lets that woman out of prison depsite the fact that he could go down for it. He turns a blind eye to Watts and lets Giles go even though they're both criminals in the eyes of the law. And on the flipside he sends George to prison because I think that's what he percieves as justice (if anyone's seen the bridge this really reminds me of Saga at the end of season 2)

Sees through hierarchy. There are so many epsiodes that play out like "I think Mr X is the killer." "But Mr x is extrememly important and influential!" "I don't care he killed her."

Interest in science and inventing. Look I know we joke about stereotypes but like, its a stereotype for a reason. He builds things with an autistic brain. He uses pattern repition through learning about previous inventions and applying them to his own devices.

Visual learner. This is not autism exclusive but he solves cases in such a unique way that it screams ND to me. Murdoch often literally builds a case. They make a joke about clue/cludo but he literally has to make the model of a house to picture where everyone is. He makes all those model of the ladies that were covered in metal. And let us not forget his famous chalk board.

Buzzkill. I say this as a long-term sufferer of leaves parties at 8:45 syndrome. He does 'boring hobbies' which autistic people often have because we don't feel the need to take up traditional ones.

Remember that scene where he attempts to read out his and Julia's book and just absolutely cannot tell that no one gives a single toss about anything he's saying.

Wears the same thing for nearly 20 years. If it ain't broke don't fix it.

Refused to let his wife cut his hair because he didn't want to change from the lady who used to do it.

breather. Part 2: watts.

Cannot read social cues: Frequently insults other station house four people. Pretty sure he called someone's baby ugly but I might have hallucinated that. "You're face is symetrical." Got chucked out of station house because he didn't get on with any of them

Disregard for societal norms: doesn't feel the need to be polite or tactful with anyone or to really follow police protocol. Acts very 'improper' a lot of the time. Only got one shoe shined that one time because that was all he needed. Puts his feet on the sofa, lies on the desk and leans over tables.

Makes limited eye contact.

The man will fidget with anything: Look this is clearly a character decision from Daniel Maslany but its an autistic character decision if ever I saw one. We're talking pencils, cups, fabric, anything. If it is on the set, he will find a way to play with out. And I don't normally like to assign autistic traits onto behaviour implemented by actors but it's basically stimming at this point. I dare you to keep an eye on this man's hands for any scene and I garuntee you they will not stay still.

Disorganised, but not: He always has tiny bits of paper and whatnot in his pockets but always seems to know where everything is. organised but doesn't have to time to be tidy. Same whenever we see his flat, it's equally disorganised. as an autistic person I find things end up all over the place because I don't have the capacity to keep them in order.

Bad handwriting and can't spell

Physicality: Most autistic people will have some sort of problem with co-ordination. He walks uneavenly. He has an odd posture. I always think about that scene where he steps in sick and moves around like a dear on ice. He's clumsy, can't sit straight and has a strange posture.

can't think when being interrupted

can't focus on two things at once.

George realised he'd been possessed by aliens because he was acting normally.

pretzels: dare i say safe food. If not, they're bland, usually the same everytime and take little mental effort to consume.

Strong sense of justic: see william murdoch.

SPECIAL MENTIONS:

Dr Emily Grace: didn't become a doctor becuase she didn't want to adopt a 'cheerful bedside manor.'

Dr Julia Ogden: Married to Murdoch (like calls to like) and sees through the bullshit of victorian society.

Susannah Murdoch: has those two as parents and I have the full confidence of genetics on this one.

In conclusion:

There's probably so much more I could talk about that I just don't remember because there is a lot more of this show than most others. But anyway. Murdoch is autistic because he has to be for the show to work and becuase he often comedic-foils far too close to the sun. And Watts is autistic because there is no way on God's green earth a man who stands like that is neurotypical.

Thank you, internet stranger, I am here all week.

#sorry this is word vomit #there is a reason i shouldn't try and be funny on the internet #murdoch mysteries #cbc murdoch #cbc mm #william murdoch queer icon #william murdoch #llewellyn watts is autistic #llewellyn watts #dr julia ogden #dr emily grace #autistic stuff

[givehimthemedicine]

El's protectiveness and friendships in the lab

wanted to take a minute to appreciate that El's protectiveness isn't a character trait that only emerges post-lab. she's always been that way [assuming, for this post, that NINA stuff more or less happened]; it just couldn't always present in a way that looks badass on a poster.

El and Eighteen

only crumbs here, but if I have to point out a lab kid that El is friendlier with than the others, it's Eighteen.

El holding Eighteen's hand is the only affectionate act I've ever noticed between any of the lab kids, and offering that comfort to her littlest sister is probably as "protective" as El can afford to be (esp as an eight year old with the least power and social standing of anyone).

when the kids in general laugh at El for failing at the light game, Eighteen is not one of the kids shown doing so.

Eighteen is the first dead child El is shown to be upset about. it's not that she looks more distressed about her than the others, but it's odd that she saw Ten dead on the floor next to Brenner a second before this and didn't really react. (maybe she couldn't tell Ten was dead from the doorway? idk)

maybe an El/Eighteen friendship is cornplating or whatever the youths are calling it, but bearing in mind that we're never actually told that El/Eight had some super close friendship, maybe theirs looked something like this.

side note - are friendships even permitted in the lab?

letting the kids form friendships could be dangerous, as Brenner, couldn't it? risks them forming alliances against you? this is why I was asking the other day if socializing seems discouraged in the RR. like, even the bullies, who were "friends," never chatted openly in there unless the cameras were off. maybe any lab friendships have to be hush hush by nature.

anyway idk there's just something about us going "🤯 same numbers!!!" upon seeing the 001 / 011 tattoos, and then 008 + 018 being the only other kids El is hinted at being friendly with... why are we reusing the same pattern? 001 / 008 / 011 / 018 just happen to be every combination of those three numbers within the number of available children.

especially with El "being 8" (as in, years old) at this time. it's giving Henry, 12 / mother of 5. idk where I'm going with that but I'm squinting. Eighteen, you're not some bizarro Little Eight who has an inverted friendship with Big El, right?

El lashing out in the lab

we're shown repeatedly that El hates seeing people get hurt, but multiple times onscreen (and you know innumerable times off) she witnesses severe abuse to her siblings, and we never see her act in their defense like post-lab El would. of course, that's because she realistically can't. we know trying to help anyone in the lab accomplishes little except getting both people in trouble. but I was thinking about how we DO see El lash out for her own sake in 1983. so what's the takeaway? El cares more about protecting herself than others? nah. let's look at the other guard killing scene (again. assuming this really happened):

when similarly cornered in 1979, El's immediate response is silent surrender.

why is her behavior so different? because she's weak? too scared / well controlled? too nice to kill? all those factors have already been established as non-issues in this moment. (she does have her powers here; the circle game proved that Brenner can't control El and knows it; killing when cornered is canonically within her nature)

you might think having a staff member on her side would make her more defiant, but instead she's more compliant here than in '83 (either time. even in the non-guard-killing flashback, El screams and struggles the whole way.)

El and One

he's the difference. she doesn't know he's her brother or has powers yet, but he has presented himself as a fellow prisoner rather than someone in a position of authority. she's also already seen him get punished because of her.

as far as El knows right here, if she lashes out - whether she then escapes successfully or not - she'd be bringing SEVERE punishment onto a nice guy who can't defend himself or escape.

she has a chance at freedom, the power to kill, and the escape route all planned out, but she doesn't do it. the thing that's not in her nature is abandoning a friend to God-knows-what punishment on her behalf.

so while One killing the guards is an act of protection to El, it's also a massive act of protection to One that El is ready to throw out the whole plan right here. don't miss it just because it's not the classic El-screamy-hand thing.

she's sacrificing her chance at freedom in hopes of slightly mitigating his punishment. (they're both doomed to very bad punishment upon capture right here, but if she escapes I think he'd get punished even worse. so she's choosing to share in pretty bad punishment over him being punished extremely severely and her not at all.)

even aside from punishment, she knows she'll be returning to an even worse home life than the one she believed necessitated her immediate escape (Brenner apparently arranging for her to be killed).

so here, can she afford to act out not only because she's acting alone, but because she's an only child, so to speak? there's no one else who could potentially suffer as a result of her actions. no other siblings to use as leverage. no one to protect.

whatever consequences Brenner carried El off to after killing those orderlies, she bore it alone.

I can sorta read this as protective of the other kids in general - not that she did it, but that she didn't until now.

am I saying Brenner might have randomly punished other kids as a result of something El did?

have you met the guy? definitely would've threatened it, might've actually done it. manipulation by whatever means necessary.

when you work in a building full of superpowered people who hate you, you gotta control them psychologically, because physical control isn't something you can maintain for long. it's imperative that they're more afraid of the consequences of kicking your ass than they are of whatever torture you're putting them through. emotional manipulation using friends and innocents as pawns is a classic move. (another reason the kids might want to keep lab friendships secret even if they're allowed.)

that's not theory - we've seen Brenner use this tactic onscreen, telling El that he'll have Owens killed if she tries to get to him. he knows he can't physically control her, so he exerts psychological control by placing Owens' blood on El's hands to get her to cooperate.

the phrase "blood on one's hands" means being responsible for deaths, not having literally, personally committed murder. this imagery is used onscreen to denote El's sense of guilt about the massacre well before she comes to the conclusion that she actually did it. (this could be symbolism that El's mind organically dreamed up instead of engineered fuckery, but who knows. we have no textual explanation yet for how her hands would be that bloody).

and together with Brenner very textually using the kids against each other in other ways - having them literally duel each other in the circle game, but also the "driving them to do exactly what he wants" stuff - I don't think it's unreasonable to figure that fear of harm to the other kids was a manipulation tactic used in the lab.

that definitely includes One - lines like "I'm not going with you / if he finds me he will find you" "I wanted to help you, but I only made things worse" smack of a guy kept in line by fear of something happening to the kids.

and the Brenner-orchestrating-El's-murder story smells like a psyop. is this just Brenner wanting One to think harm would come to El as a consequence of his actions? (she became "uncontrollable" as a result of his coaching). El is too valuable an asset to actually kill. who would know better than One that the treatment for being uncontrollable is soteria, not death? assuming One is being truthful, why would he not see through that. idek what I think is going on here anymore

anyway. MKUltra is ALL about manipulation but I'll talk more about that in my other post

times El protects her friends the same way she protected One

practically every move El makes is about protecting her friends but I want to point out a few times that are specifically reminiscent of her protection of One, where she's ready to give up her freedom to protect her friends even at risk of the worst case scenario (going back to the lab):

sacrificing herself to protect the party from the demogorgon ("no more") <- is that line in reference to the 6 people the demogorgon has snatched, or is that a massacre reference given how incredibly parallel these scenes are. I'm not sure whether "goodbye Mike" meant she thought she'd die or just get so wiped out that she'd be easily recaptured by the lab

leaving Kali and "freedom" to return to Hawkins and protect her friends, where she volunteers to go back into the lab to close the gate

leaving Cali and "freedom" to return to the lab to get her powers back to protect her friends

final thought: I just had a chuckle with myself at the fact that iirc it's Mike and Nancy whose lives El has individually, directly saved the most times.

[honorable mention for Max because I don't know how to quantify 4x9. is that like one massive save?]

like, Mike, okay, but why the Nancy emphasis when she and El have basically zero onscreen relationship. (actually I have a lot to say about El and Nancy coming up soon that might add context)

idk.. lab sibling guilt smth smth El protecting Nancy "she'll be like your new sister" and Mike "will you be like my brother" Creeler. you gotta love it

#another chunk off the analysis. I promise it's coming #givehimthemedicineanalysis #putting 'El saves Holly Wheeler's life' on my s5 bingo card

[cowboy-robooty]

PruPan (Prussia x Japan) For the grid

I know who sent this. I can smell your prupan and self-ship wif japan from a mile away **heart eyes emoji** thank you for being the only mf who wants to hear my opinions. anyways so i thought about it and realized actually prussia and japans dynamic is the greatest thing ever. Because see i believe in cuck japan romantically FOREVER. i think japan has like best broship in the platonic dating style (if you experience that shit you know what i mean) with america and like hes emotionally fulfilled from that but also he desperately wants a boyfriend or girlfriend or oysterfriend just anyone to have that shoujo romance and tentacle freak sideways tango with. but the thing is that he literally always fails and is in one-sided crushes Forever and always and its always japan crying to his best bro america about his fail ass love life and america is like lol couldnt be me! but it's fine because he still has his best bro and like yknow... its like how family and friendship is two different things that are both need. like moral orel about the f words (family, faith, friends) but with b. bros, booty, and bazinga... like idubbbz! (as long as you have one of those you won't be lonely). but anyways see i believe japans biggest crush of all is on italy and obviously prussia has his huge ginormous crush on italy too but like i think that actually they are aware of eachothers crushes but dont care because they dont see eachother as threats at all bc theyre like "omg this dude is so cooked he aint even competition lol i feel bad for him" towards eachother.

and i think its actually really funny because see prussia is a desperate motherfucker and honestly not hard to pull at all. like if you have sex with him hes the type who goes "uhmm youre my boyfriend now right?" or if you confess to him hell take your feelings genuinely seriously and think about it and 90% of the time end up saying YES!!! I LIKE YOU TOO!!!!!! and japan is also desperate but he would literally date anybody Except prussia. like it's like how italy will fuck anybody Except Prussia. LIke japan could potentially get together with anybody under the right circumstances except prussia lol even if they were trapped in alkatraz together for 18 years he would never be prussia's prison boyfriend he just doesnt have the capacity to love him. and its really funny because prussia is literally the only mf who has the capacity to feel romantic love towards japan in a twist of horrible fate because japan pissed off cupid in his past life and will never ever fucking win at romance. The only conceivable way is if he asked out prussia but prussia is the only mf he would rather die a virgin with while stranded on an island for 3000 years with than fuck and try to repopulate the planet with yaoi babies. so yeah they compell me a lot in this sense because this is fucking hilarious and amazing and I'd like for them to act pitying to eachother about their crushes on italy bc they're like "mhm mhm yeah you have a chance (lying)" even though they both strapped in the same jigsaw trap lawl. but I dont think i ship them because of what i said above. thank you for sending this though this was some really good shit to think about and i think ill draw them interacting more because this is an incredible discovery.... best discovery since alfred wagner and the tectonic plates !

#hetalia #aph #hws #aph japan #hws japan #hws prussia #aph prussia #uhhh #prupan #? its about being asked it #itapan #cuck itapan #pruita #cuck pruita #draws #ask

[phangneh]

Voice In The Abyss

[CHAPTER Ⅰ]

✨Manhwa : Into The Light Once Again

✨Elmir royal family x Fem!Reader

✨Warning : princess!reader, lost memory, yandere elements (both platonic and romantic), protect, ... (will add more)

📌Note: this is just a fanfic, there are many details unrelated to the original story line. English is not my native language, if I make grammatical mistakes or use incorrect words, please forgive me.

🎭Summary : You have a voice that is said to change the world, when you sing, your sweet voice makes people happy and all things flourish. One day, your kingdom was destroyed, you had to live with the pain of losing your family and being severely mistreated. But it seems that you will die in misery, there will be people who will come and take you out of the abyss.

[ Introduce ]

[ Chapter 1 ]

Looks like there's a noise on the ground, you think. But you're not really sure, is it really noise? Or are your ears just imagining for themselves?

It's been a long time, even a little warmth of sunlight you haven't even seen, two years of being confined to a dark underground prison, all your senses and body have been worn out. Dark, cold, snake centipede insects you are also used to.

When will you be freed?

Why aren't you dead yet?

Eventually, you find yourself lying on the moldy, slurping ground. A finger can't move now, is God taking you?

The noise doesn't go away, but at this moment you don't care about it anymore. When you close your eyes, it feels like you're leaning on your mother's lap, and she sings you lullabies. There is the voice of your mother, of your father, of your brothers and sisters, it seems that you are with them.

And then you don't feel anything anymore.

...

You wake up, light creeping into the corner of your eye. Brilliant, and uncomfortable. But it's also warm and comfortable. Your head is blank, strangely enough, you don't have any memories in your head. You can't think of anything, you're so strange around, you wonder where this is, there's a lot of mixed emotions, anxiety, fear, restlessness in you,... Suddenly the door of the room opens, a woman enters and is alarmed to realize you have woken up, she is so shocked that she almost dropped the tray in her hand.

"She's awake!"

She speaks something you don't understand. You're vague, weak, but still aware enough that two people came in later, they both looked in a hurry, and seemed surprised to see you open your eyes. Who's that? Do you know them?

"Are you okay? How are you feeling?" A soft voice that you can hear, she speaks a language that you understand, you want to answer, but your throat is too weak to say something.

The owner of the voice was a woman with a gentle and beautiful face, her eyes were like beautiful purple jewels.

She looked very worried... Why?

"Hurry up and call the priest here!" Another voice, but that of the younger girl, they were the same, they both had cloud-white hair, but she had blue eyes... It was like that lake, clear and shining. She was as beautiful as an angel.

"It's going to be fine, you're safe."

You are confused, why are you here, who they are, why are you like this, so many questions in your mind.

What happened?

...

You gaze silently out the light-filled window, your aimless eyes gazing into the distance. It's been two days since you woke up, Empress Iris – that beautiful purple-eyed woman said that you have been in a coma for almost 1 month since they found you.

"(Y/n) (L/n)"

The name crosses your mind, people say it's your name. You don't remember anything, your dark eyes look down at your bandaged hands, not an inch of flesh is healed right now, everywhere is full of wounds, some have become infected, some have become scars.

You are now in the Elmir Empire, a beautiful and prosperous Empire. Somehow you have been taken care of directly by the royal palace, everyone here is kind to you, even if you do not understand their language, but it seems that their words mean good. The only people you can hear are Empress Iris and Princess Aisha, who are by your side for two days today.

"(Y/n)"

The gentle voice wakes you up from the train of thought, Princess Aisha, she is looking at you with worried eyes.

"How are you feeling? Does it hurt anywhere?"

You shake your head slightly, then your tired eyes can see how relieved she is to see you're okay. Anytime you see anxiety on people's faces, you realize that you are the cause of that anxiety.

"Tell me if you're uncomfortable, please! I'll handle everything."  Aisha gave you a reassuring smile, hoping to get some reaction from you. For the past two days, the priests have taken turns treating you. Your condition has improved significantly, you can eat normally and move around more. Even so, you still look empty, like a lifeless doll. Aisha hopes that after you can walk, she will take you for a walk around the palace grounds. It will certainly be very quick, the divine power of the priests will help you recover quickly.

You really can't help but feel grateful for the care and concern of everyone in the Elmir royal family, from the Empress, Princess to the servants, they are truly good people. You were sure of it after only two days of interacting with them, there really was no one who could care for another person with such incredible enthusiasm.

However, for Aisha.

To this day, Aisha can't forget the moment you were taken back to the palace, you almost stopped breathing, disheveled... and couldn't have looked more horrible. They can't imagine what you've been through, your body is full of wounds big and small, sickness and skin diseases. Anyone who saw your condition was dumbfounded, there were no words that could describe you then. They wonder if the people who make you like this are still human.

So cruel.

So evil.

Why would they treat a human being like that?

Even if you don't know them, their hearts won't allow them to leave you alone. Luckily, they narrowly saved your life.

Aisha finishes her flashbacks, she looks up at you, seeing your eyes staring at her startles her.

"W-what's wrong?"

You look at her intently, after a while, you open your mouth slightly, but then you stop. You feel like you want to say something to her. But somehow, you want to say something. You become confused, struggling to find a way to express your thoughts.

"You want to say something?"

Seeing that she understood, you quickly nodded. Aisha thought, then quickly ran out of the room, you looked at her puzzledly, Aisha came back very quickly, in her hand were a few sheets of paper with a pen and ink.

"We can communicate this way, if you can't already speak" Princess Aisha certainly couldn't hide her joy knowing you wanted to talk, because probably from the moment you woke up, apart from nodding or shaking your head to express your best friend's thoughts, you didn't express anything that sounded like you wanted to talk. Aisha is really curious what you want to say to her.

When you pick up the paper and pen from Aisha, you pause for a moment, then start writing something. Your hands trembling, the black letters trembling on the paper, the Princess stares at you intently, waiting for what you are writing. After you stop, you slowly hold up the paper in front of her, Aisha narrows her eyes, trying to see your indistinct zigzag handwriting clearly.

"Thanks"

"For was... take care of you?" Aisha looked up at you, meeting your expectant gaze. When you nod, she knows she's read exactly what you want to say.

Before she could say anything more, Aisha saw you start writing on paper, looking urgent and hurried, as if you were afraid you'd miss the time to speak your mind.

"Once I'm well, I'll leave right away."

As she read those words, Aisha frowned slightly.

"Why? Where are you going?" She asks you, leaving you momentarily confused.

"Go Home"

Go home.

That's what you want, even if there is no memory of your so-called 'home' in your mind.

Aisha can't help but be surprised, because since you regained consciousness from that coma, no one has told you about your hometown, maybe 'home' is not something you would think about now. But now, you tell her you want to go home. How can Aisha tell you that your home is now a ruin?

"(Y/n), you can only stay in Elmir for now..."

When the Princess says that, you look confused, your eyes on her waiting for an explanation.

"Well... You see, your health is still unstable, right?"

"Staying in Elmir will give you time to recuperate, and I and everyone will take care of you."

So... For now, please rest assured to stay in Elmir, okay?

#manhwa x reader #isis de elmir x reader #into the light once again #isis de elmir #aisha de elmir #Iris de Elmir #Tyrion de Elmir #yandere platonic #yandere romantic #yandere platonic x reader #🔮phangneh #fanfic #isis x reader

[sheena-isa-punkrocker]

did lalo and tuco even see eachother while they were both in prison?????? bcs just decided to never tell us

#i guess we'll never know #like... they were both in prison at the same time #how come we didnt get a scene of that?? #better call saul #bcs #lalo salamanca #tuco salamanca

[bijoumikhawal]

only going "rape and torture are bad" when people defend Palestinians is pretty fucking scummy, speaking as someone who knows more than the average person on this site does about torture, and hates it real bad and knows a lot of people repeat torture apologia because it's deeply pervasive in modern culture

#cipher talk #Again: yes rape and torture ARE bad. Currently there is limited evidence of that occuring from Palestinian militants #During this operation #Instances may happen and may even be likely purely because this is armed conflict #How come you don't state the same when faced with Israeli opinions? #Because there are MANY. AND I MEAN MANY. Near constant reports of both from Israeli prisons and soldiers! #I get part of it is that frankly American Jews and Jews on tumblr do not see the most rabid forms of Zionism #Because I do remember being shocked when I got more active in Twitter and realized just how deeply racist and genocidal #Some zionists openly were #But I really almost want to laugh because like. A lot of yall are reformniks #The state of Israel does not respect you! It barely thinks you're Jewish! But you defend it so hard! #Claiming it's the only refuge for Jewish refugees in times of crisis like I've seen one rabbi do... completely ignoring how many jews #Are effectively declared not Jewish enough for those very purposes #A few weeks ago I was in fact darkly wondering to myself how they would be used if something happened that made Ugandan Jews into refugees #How they were not Jewish enough for the rabhinate but would surely be used in propaganda if antisemitic violence occurred #About why Israel is 'necessary' even though they were denied upfront

[defectzim]

TaTr is real and good. <- have a whole story in its head that would NOT fucking happen in canon.

#show doesnt give us anything my brain fills in the gaps #itd I GUESS be an AU but in my heart and mind its real jus lemme have this #Tenn gets re encoded as a service drone after the incident with the SIR units. tallests would rather put the blame on her than admit fault. #They get sent to moo ping 10 not as a prisoner just to work there (i go back on forth on what her specific job is. BUT its low profile.) #something like a custodian. tenn takes it as best she can but she DOES have a bit of that dramatic i want to get revenge feels. #like they've just lost their mission through no fault of her own. its a difficult time for her as she starts to kinda...question things. #like the way the world (or the only one she knows) works around her. but she also knows there isnt much they can do yk. #eventually she meets Tak there. who IS there as a prisoner. #i think theyd bond over the way theyre both victims of circumstance. and how they couldnt do anything to get where they were when meeting. #but hey. maybe being at your own rock bottom isnt too bad if someone's on the same level. #one thing leads to another they start their own “resistance” BUT really it is just them chilling in space. #theres lots of gaps BUT. but....shhh lemme have this i know its corny and would NOT fucking happen but they make me giggle happy smile. #ZIM SPEAKS #oh also mimi is included too. mimi is their emotional support kitty. #kitty mimi is forever i luv her FOREVER. #also i use they/she for tenn jst so theres no confusion ^_^!

[lokigodofaces]

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., a show that doesn't have Loki as a character and only mentions him negatively, did more to show us his character than his own series ever did.

#loki sent sif TWICE to earth to help them #both times were after the episode explicitly after tdw so we know that 'odin' was loki #one was to capture an escaped prisoner so you could argue that was out of asgard's sake not earth's #but then he sent sif to deal with the fricking kree #which had nothing to do with asgard #so that is two times where he did something for the good of earth #& this is the same show where someone referred to him as asgardian mussolini #but thats bc of the perspective of the characters. coulson has every right to not like loki. i mean guy did kill him #but the second you start to think about it in context of the movies you realize what loki is up to #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d. (2013 2020) #loki laufeyson #loki (2021) #loki (2021) critical

[fontvine]

￫ EMBARRASSING MOMENTS DURING SEX !

wriothesley, neuvillette, lyney

￫ wriothesley

given his occupation, wriothesley needs to blow off steam constantly - the minute he’s home from his duties, he’s on you like a feral dog, wasting no time and clasping the handcuffs around your wrists tightly. wriothesley pants heavily above your restrained form, sweat beading at his hairline, lips bitten red, and balls slapping harshly against your bottom with every thrust. while he enjoyed the roughness, he knew when the both of you were nearing your climaxes, you both preferred to be able to hold each other properly.

wriothesley reached over onto the bedside table where he usually held a spare set of keys for the handcuffs, only for his blunt nails to scratch against the oak wood.

“… my love, i’m afraid i’m gonna have to head back to the prison momentarily.”

￫ neuvillette

now neuvillette is a stoic yet gentle lover - his passion runs thickly through his veins and clouds his every thought, even when in the court room. fontaine had reached a peaceful point in time - there were little to no trials and matters had instead been avoided or dropped entirely… perhaps focalors had found a more interesting thing to focus on.

it was rare neuvillette had you within the court rooms walls - the occasion saved for moments in time he needed to relax before an intense hearing, or times he knew the hydro archon was far from the building - yet he had chosen to bend you over the wooden balcony and slowly yet deeply thrust into you from behind with the knowledge the archon was somewhere within the building

“this has to be the most horrific thing the courts walls have ever seen!” focalors yelled dramatically from one of the neighbouring balconies. “i can never view you the same neuvillette!”

￫ lyney

lyney had encountered more embarrassing moments with you during sex than out in public. not only does he have a nack for somehow bringing magic into the bedroom at the worst of times, but he has also been caught with you more times that he could count on both hands.

the magician is a playful lover through and through and lives for the thrill - he’s had you on his cock outside of the comfort of your shared bedroom more times then within - in an alleyway, the bathroom of a restaurant, and even backstage at the opera. of course though, after not being caught in all of those risky places, the moment he has your legs draped over his shoulders in the comfort of his house, lynette chooses to interrupt.

“lyney, freminet and i are heading out for groceries- what do you and y/n want for supper?” lyney can only bury his face into your neck in embarrassment. “anything lynette, please just leave.”

#genshin x reader #genshin imagine #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley imagine #wriothesley smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette imagine #neuvillette smut #lyney x reader #lyney imagine #lyney smut

[fordaryl]

REMEMBER.

minors dni. 2.6k words. smut. daryl dixon x fem!reader. protective daryl. hint of size kink. strength kink.

It's easy to forget his strength when his touch is always so gentle. When you're safe, he lets you forget everything he's capable of; the reason you've both made it this long.

Safety lets you forget.

And then—when it inevitably all it all goes to shit again—you remember.

"Get in!" he calls through the wall of bodies separating you. He keeps the attention of most of them, but there's a few stumbling in your direction—too many for you to handle alone. "Now!" he shouts as he takes another growling walker down.

It goes against every instinct you have—to leave him to fight this alone. But this was his domain. This was when you did whatever the fuck he told you to do. It was how you survived.

You drag the door of the container open, grunting as the heavy metal fights back. It's a makeshift prison cell, one that was supposed to be filled with live bait for the walkers. It would be if it weren't for Daryl. He was almost single-handedly dismantling whatever fucked up enterprise you'd both stumbled upon.

One of them reaches you before you'd manage to push the gate open enough to slip through.

One is fine. You can handle one.

Turning around to deal with it gives you a split second to check in on Daryl. He's making a dent in the mass of bodies, but it's not enough. Not with the shouts of the living making their way closer.

You kick the walker you've knifed back into the mass of bodies approaching, giving you just enough time to slip through the crack you've made in the sliding door and slam it closed behind you.

Locking it is another story.

You have no hope of accomplishing that.

Still, it's enough for now. It's enough to let Daryl keep his focus where it needs to be as you deal with as many as you can through the bars.

Then one gets shot down. Daryl, is your first thought. But then two are shot down at once. And then the voices reach your ears. Voices are bad. Walkers you can handle. The living was another story. Nothing stoked the fear constantly simmers in your gut like the voices of the living.

They shout over each other, calling directions as they pick off the mass with a spray of bullets. You can't see Daryl anymore. He's either dead or hiding.

Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.

You shift back into one of the dark corners of the container as the shouts draw nearer.

“What the fuck happened?! Don't shoot them you dumb fucks! Get any you can back into holding!”

Any second now... any second they'd find Daryl and your world would end. The living were different. The living were monsters of a different kind.

"They're bunched up around this one!" someone shouts.

You hold your breath.

"Well check it out then!" another demands.

Oh, fuck. You grip your pistol. Your aim was decent. You could take one out, maybe two. But there's a whole group... and they were coming for you.

You scramble to the other far corner as the last of the walkers are cleared from the entrance, hoping to take advantage of the darkest shadows. Daryl would be watching... waiting. Any extra moment you could give him could be vital.

"You better come out now," a man calls from outside. He's just out of your sights, prepared for you to be armed and ready to fight. You'd hoped to have the element of surprise. "I ain't asking."

You know what'll happened when they find you. It's the same thing each time. You're prey to people like these—something to hunt in a world without consequences for that kind of thing.

Your silence buys you less than a minute before the first of them are dragging the metal gate open. If you shoot, they'll shoot back. It's not something you'll survive cornered like this. So you bet on them being the same as the rest. You let them know you're prey.

"Please," you call, as meek and afraid as you can manage—vulnerable. Not a threat. "I'm—I'm unarmed."

Then a bright light blinds you.

"What the fuck?" one of them exclaims. Then, "Where'd the fuck this little thing come from?"

There it was. Little. Thing. You were nothing. You're not a threat. You'd bought Daryl more time.

"Come on out, girl. Come on." They call you like you're a dog, something less than human. That's how they see you. Something to use.

You take a small step forward, still blinded by their flashlights. Daryl was alive. He was alive and hiding and he was waiting for something.

You just had to stay alive.

"What do you... want with me?" you ask, still taking tiny steps towards the light. Weak. Vulnerable. No threat.

You get muffled laughter in response. Guards down. Distracted.

"What do we want? We want a little fun, honey. That's all. Just a bit of fun."

They're flash lights drop as you approach the entrance. They've pulled the gate all the way across.

Five. You count five. If you kill two...

"Why is she alone?" one of them questions. He's younger, a little less distracted.

The rest ignore him. Then one of them has you by the arm, dragging you the rest of the way out of the makeshift cell. They're hands send a wave of repulsion through your body as they grab at you, pulling you around and shoving you in front of them. They may as well be the undead the way their touch feels against your skin.

The young one doesn't move out of the way when you reach him. Instead he stares into you, suspicious and angry. "Who are you with?" he asks. Even then, his gun is lowered. Even to him you aren't a threat.

"Get the fuck out of the way," the man gripping your arm says, clearly irritated and impatient.

"But—"

"Now."

His eyes narrow, but then he steps aside—his back pressed to the wall to let the rest of the men past. It's now that you get a look down into the pit of walkers, the one's they've managed to recapture rather than take out. They reach up towards you, hands grabbing for you.

Then, only a few steps later—you're stopped. The man with his hand wrapped around your elbow leans over your shoulder, his rancid breath invading your nostrils as he speaks. "You alone?" he asks. "You tell me right now."

You blink away the burn threatening to pool tears in your eyes. Were you alone? If you were...

The man's grip tightens, the only warning you get before you're forced to your knees and staring down into the pit of hungry walkers. "Speak," he demands, nails carving into your skin. "I'd hate to waste you like this."

There's two other men behind you. Three surrounding you in total. You could take one out for sure. They hadn't even searched you for weapons. They expected nothing out of you at all.

But then there'd be two, only counting the ones in reaching distance. How long would it take the other two further away to aim their guns in your direction?

You were dying tonight if Daryl was dead, that was certain. Your only hope was that he was waiting and watching... but what would he be waiting for...

Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.

You take a deep breath. You could wait to die. Or fight now and hope that's the moment he's waiting for... if he's waiting at all.

The man holding you drops to one knee behind you. He leans over to speak in your ear. You wouldn't need to rely on your aim for the first kill, only any that followed. It was a headstart you weren't likely to get again. You reach for your pistol and before the man can open his lips and taint your senses with his rot once more, you shoot him through the underside of his jaw.

Your ears ring as his body drops. But you were ready. The men behind you aren't.

You were nothing. Prey.

The few seconds that affords you are priceless. You manage to shoot one more through the head before he can get hands on his own weapon.

The third is another story. His gun is pointed at you for what must be milliseconds. They drag though, those moments with an enemy weapon pointed at your head always do.

But then Daryl is there, strangling the man with a rifle and shoving his body into the ground with a force that reverberates through the metal. It's only when he snaps the man's neck you spot the bodies behind him.

He'd been waiting for you.

You watch him stand, hair hanging in his face and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.

Then his eyes are on you.

Then his hands.

Those hands... the same ones he'd used seconds earlier to break a man's neck. His fingers are feathers across your skin as he brushes the hair back off your face. "Okay?" he asks, soft and a little shaky.

You nod.

"You did good," he says, that deep gravel back in his voice. "So good, sweetheart." His hand makes a trail down to your neck, gentle and slow over your pulse point to rest at your clavicle. "We gotta go," he says. "Stay close for me, yeah?"

—————

The first time after is always the same—after you're forced to remember. It adds something to the way his gentle hands feel as he reaches over your hips to dip between your legs. To the way his body feels pressed up behind yours.

His thick fingers slip between your slick folds as he holds you tight against his chest. Heat. It's an overwhelming heat. He crowds you, practically curled around you.

"You like that sweetheart?" His voice is almost sweet as his lips graze your ears and his long hair tickles your skin. "Huh? You like that?"

You nod with a small whine, pressing your hips back into him—desperate.

He sighs, finger prodding over and over at your swollen entrance—a teasing little hint of what's to come. He dips in slightly, his calloused fingertip pressing into your slippery, spongy entrance just enough to have you whimpering his name.

"Fuck," he grunts. "You need me here? Huh? You all fuckin' empty?"

"Yeah," you whine with a desperate nod. "Empty."

His grip around your ribs tightens for a moment before he's pressing you into the ground—cushioned by the few blankets you carry. He's rolled you onto your belly as he covers you completely, his warmth seeping into your skin from his calves to his hot breath on your neck.

"What do you need?" he asks. As if he doesn't know; as if he didn't always know.

"You."

"Hm?" he hums, sweet and coaxing. "How?"

You reach blindly to find his wrist, gripping it firmly. "Hold me tight," you gasp between jagged breaths. "Please... Please."

His weight is heavy over you as he drops his lips to your neck, a silent acknowledgement of your pleas.

Then he's scooping you up, lifting you and rearranging you exactly the way you want him to. Because he fucking knows.

He has you pressed to his chest with your tits against his skin as he lays back into the makeshift bed you've created for the night. His arms wrap around you, one across your shoulder blades and the other around your waist—secure and firm. His fingers press sporadically into your skin a little more than needed, like he's testing his grip on you; like he's testing he has you in his arms good and tight.

Then he hooks one leg under yours, a gentle guide to part your legs just the way he needs.

"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he breathes against your temple as one of his hands leaves you. It's temporary, you remind yourself. He'd be wrapping you up securely as soon as he'd buried himself deep; once his cock was guided safely into your throbbing cunt.

You nip at his neck in response, chasing with a delicate lick at his salty skin. "Please," you ask softly.

Then he's adjusting you against him a little, ensuring you're exactly where he needs you to be. "I got you," he says as his leaking tip prods at your entrance. "Got you," he repeats. He mumbles this way as he teases; as he plays. This was what he did: pushed you to the brink of desperate sobs as he guides his cockhead over your slippery, throbbing cunt... over and over.... and over...

Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.

Then, eventually, he slips inside. Just the tip.. and not far. Just enough so that he can wrap his arms around you again. Just enough that he can have you whimpering his name as he prevents you grinding down to take him deep inside.

This is when he gives you a hint of his strength. It's easy to keep you from your goal, his strong arms pressing you into his torso a little harder each time you attempt to resist.

He keeps you there, just with a taste of that fullness—a taste of having him as close as it was possible to be. "Kiss," he says, simple and a little croaky.

You obey, pressing your desperation between his lips. It's messy and interrupted by moments where you simply need to breathe, heavily—his lips chasing yours as you attempt to catch your breath.

"Daryl," you gasp eventually. "Now. Please."

His grip around you tightens a little as you drop your face to his neck.

Then he pulls you down to meet his cock, to fuck himself deep. It's hard, exactly like you need it—exactly the way he knows you want it. You bite into his neck weakly as he keeps you there, stuffed full—the thick throbbing length of him stretching you out so completely.

Then, "Like that?" he asks, that sweetness back in his voice—like he's offering you a gentle back massage instead of holding you down on his cock.

You nod weakly in response.

His fingers press into your skin moments before he's moving, fucking himself with your cunt as he pulls you down to meet his messy thrusts. You're completely pliant like this, all control relinquished.

He's got you.

His breathing is quickly transformed into uneven pants as he attempts to grunt broken sentences into your ear. "Sucking me in... sucking at my cock with your messy little cunt... aren't you, baby? Hm?"

One of his hands moves to your hair occasionally, a temporary and seemingly subconscious attempt to get a better grip—or just to hold you closer. His fingers tangle in the strands, never tugging hard—never hurting.

"My girl," he grunts. "My needy little girl."

It's only when he's nearing his end that he flips you onto your back and you get a real display. He grips your hips and tugs you down to meet him as he uses you, each thrust a slapping of skin and punching a helpless sound from your lungs.

Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.

"Daryl," you gasp. "Daryl, fill me. Please."

His fingers dig a little more into your skin, his hair falling over his eyes. Then his lips part, a grunt... a broken, "Fuck."

He falls over you as he floods you, his cock twitching and pumping you full—just like you asked. But even then, even as he loses himself, he catches his fall—arms landing either side of your head to cage you in. "Got you," he gasps out between desperate lung fulls of air. "I got you."

#daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd x reader #daryl dixon x reader #x reader #daryl imagines #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n

[unknownmads]

PRISON TOJII (he’s so addictive🤭) if he’s so bad then why does he look so good? like that’s literally my baby daddy y’all✊🏼😍 i wrote this kinda quick sorry i’ve been so busy y’all

“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”

the words rang through your eyes having this be the first time you heard his voice, it was deep and rough his ton was teasing you quietly.

Prison Toji who’s eyes track as you reach into your bag grabbing a small notebook and pen. Opening the notebook revealed a page already full of questions you were waiting to ask him. oh how cute you are thinking about him so much just so excited. he’s pulled out of his trance when you finally speak.

“hi toji, i great to finally meet you too” your voice soft at first from your original anxiety about the situation. i mean your just here to meet him for your class nothing more. right? i mean you wouldn’t be here because you love reading his letters telling you how pretty you are. how he wished he could take you out properly. Shamelessly telling you how hard he got to your pictures. but he was just flirting he’s a man in a prison it’s what happens.

Prison toji who finally speaks next the seconds feeling like eternity for him. He doesn’t want to have to sit across a table from you he want you in his lap sitting pretty just how you are now.

“That’s a lot of writing in your lil notebook doll, you been thinkin of me?” this time his tone laced with teasing and smirk displayed on his lips. it draws attention to his scar, you had never asked about it not wanting to push things you shouldn’t.

“where’d you get that scar?” pointing to your own lip as you looked up at him. a small chuckle escapes him surprised at your bluntness.

“well you’re quick to the questions today. you wanna get a closer look at it?” the gawking look one your face giving you away. and with a quick nod you were leaning across the table to get a closer look as he did the same to help you.

Prison Toji who stops you with a noise when your hand reaches up to touch his lip where the scar is

“shit sorry” quietly escapes you as you looked away for a second toji takes this as an opportunity

“you’re okay sweetheart just gonna get us in some trouble if you do that.” his lips next to your ear as his breath brushing against your ear “can’t control myself with a pretty thing like you.”

Prison Toji whose pants grow so much tighter when he sees how flustered you get from such a simple comment. You turn back to face him, his eyes instantly meeting yours challenging you telling you to do it, see how far it goes, see how bad he possibly he, and just like a moth to a flame you do just that. your hand grazing where his scar is going to cup his face, it was all so fast you could barely process it. he forced himself forward slamming his lips to yours. shock took you first then you eased into the kiss and began kissing back. and then you remembered HES A PRISONER AND THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE FOR SCHOOL.

Prison toji whose ready to snap his cuffs when you pull away. leaning into you as much as he could almost whining when your gone. he sees you shocked and guilt ridden with your finger touching your lips

“whats wrong doll didn’t like it? give me another chance to try again” his body fully leaning to you practically half way over the table.

“im sorry we shouldn’t hav- it wasn’t bad- just we can’t Toji.” your thoughts swirling the world is spinning. Could you get kick out of school? what if someone saw? are there cameras in here? why do i still want to? it’s wrong.

“It’s fine sweetheart no one will know, just you and me i know you want more from the look on your face and the way your sqeezin your thighs. don’t even try to deny it.”

Caught. like the moth to a flame, fly in a trap, he’s got you.

Prison toji whose cock jumps when you slide out of your seat and approach him looking to make sure the guards weren’t watching. unknowing to the fact that tojo already blackmailed both of them to let him have all the privacy he needed with you. the look in your eyes as you approached was pure lust and need for him.

“your sure we’ll be fine right?” you say as you lean down towards him

“im positive doll i made sure of it.”

Prison Toji who finally snaps his cuffs unable to take anymore. grabbing your hips and pulling you into his lap his face clashing with your the kiss is sloppy and full of need. a small sound escaping as he deepens the kiss.

“i’ve been dreaming of this.”

TAGS: @altgojo @nanmiik @kouyoumarryme @imaslothandsowhat @dragonmaiden79 @sircatchungus

SOME OF YALL DIDNT SHOW UP WHEN I SEARCHED IM SO SORRY😭

#feral #jjk toji #i love terrible men #i need him #inmate toji #jjk #jujutsu toji #prison toji #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji x y/n #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x reader #dilf toji #oldermen #older toji

[nariism]

ೃ⁀➷ WHERE THE HEART LIES ˚ ༘♡

a/n: fluff, pining, childhood friends to lovers, reader was in the same orphanage as wriothesley when they were kids, mild codependency (?)

happy wishing everyone! ≧◡≦

Amongst the hundreds of books stored in the Duke's office, none hold a place in his heart quite like the dusty old atlas you gave him when you were children.

It's old and worn, something aged with the faint scent of Tidalga wafting as the pages turn. To an outsider, the atlas almost looks like garbage, or rather, exactly what it is—the only crappy book in the entire vintage shop that you could afford with your terrible allowance.

He doesn't see it that way.

It's a precious commodity to him, something he holds in high regard (despite the way he's glued the spine together on nearly a dozen occasions with the amount of times he's flipped through it).

Wriothesley is not a sentimental man. Growing up the way he did taught him not to grow too attached to material belongings.

There are few things in the world he would consider treasures: his boxing gloves, for one, though that's a given. His growing tea collection that originally started as a treat he would spend coupons on, but somehow evolved into a hobby.

And lastly, but perhaps most importantly, the map of Teyvat you gave him in the orphanage you came from. Because it wasn't only a birthday gift, it was something infinitely more meaningful than that.

He remembers that birthday fondly: he was twelve and you were ten. You'd snuck into his room beyond curfew and lights out, sheltered yourself under his blanket, and shoved the poorly packaged gift bag into his hands.

The two of you spent the entire night going through the pages, amazed at how giant the world truly was outside the confines of your orphanage—imagined how freeing it would be to explore it with nothing but your pair of feet and each other.

"One day," you breathed with excitement bubbling in your voice, "We'll leave this place and travel all across Teyvat."

It wasn't just a promise to see the world. It was a promise to see it together.

For a boy who had nothing at all, what you offered him was like placing the universe itself in his hands. And even at twelve years old, with you and that book sitting between his legs and a blanket thrown over his body, he knew he'd found a dream.

The older he got, the more he clung to that. 

You were the one he came back to when he was lost. The one who made the orphanage a home. The one who gave him a raggedy atlas of the world and whispered purpose into him.

Something to cherish. Something to protect. Something to love in this world when he had little to spare.

Though time had changed everything in his life, he still found it hard to abandon the welded pieces of your conjoined hearts.

Unlike Wriothesley, you had chosen to return to the surface after you finished serving your sentence.

It was lonelier beneath the crushing pressure of the sea without you. He made sure you knew that, too, always bringing it up whenever you came by to visit in the most nonchalant ways.

The Fortress of Meropide was a home both of you had discovered after years of being without one. "Come home already," he used to complain when he was still just a regular inmate and you were dropping by with a care package. "I miss you."

Nowadays, he made certain you understood the gap in his heart without you by other means. Like, say, when he would invite you personally to his office for a cup of tea and some cake, which was a rare treat you missed out on as kids.

Once, you called him out for attempting to bribe you back down into the iron fortress which he, of course, denied with his chest. Still, you never failed to make the trip down despite your outspoken disinterest in being back in the prison, and his weak offer of sweets since you now worked at one of the most prestigious bakeries in the city.

You had initially greeted him this time with your hands all over him, arms wrapped so tightly around his neck in a hug that he could barely breathe. Sweet smiles and kisses pressed to his cheeks and fingers pinching his nose—every action endearing and a remnant of your childhood spent together.

Now, you're seething in the office at his simple question: how are things on the surface?

"... That's when I turned to Lady Furina and, get this, she somehow ate every pastry I'd brought in a matter of seconds!" You huff, pacing back and forth in front of Wriothesley's desk while you rant about your latest visit with the Archon.

Furina was often in your schedule in one way or another, and almost always she wanted you to bring along sweets from the shop you worked at.

Wriothesley finds humour in your woes, following you around in your pacing with his arms folded over his chest.

"You know, you could just show up to your audiences with her without treats."

"She would call high treason and toss me back in prison!"

The Duke just snorts, earning him a well-deserved glare. Even with the pull of your lips into a thin line and the narrowing of your eyes, he thinks you look like a breathing angel under the warm orange light of the office.

There was nothing in the world you could do that would make him stop loving you. Not even glaring daggers at him like he's your mortal enemy.

"You're exaggerating," he hums, trailing behind you once again as you pace around the desk. 

"No, I'm not. She's absolutely crazy. She's insane—!"

He nearly bumps into your back when you suddenly halt in your steps, attention stolen from the conversation. The hands that were flailing around in the air to animate your anguish drop to your sides.

Wriothesley peers curiously over your shoulder at what has caused you to stop so abruptly.

Oh. Oh, Archons. He can sense the heat rising to his ears.

He feels as though he's been spotted in vulnerability, even though that isn't at all what has happened and that you would be the last person to judge him even if he was.

But he feels seen. Caught in the act of sentimentality just because you've picked out the book you gave him all those years ago when all you had was each other.

"You still have this?" You gawk, pulling the atlas from its prestigious position on his bookshelf. It's in a spot that he can always see as soon as he enters the room—in his direct line of sight, he has a part of you with him.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, I just thought..." You consider the words for a moment, tasting them in your mouth before admitting embarrassingly, "I just thought you'd have thrown it out for a newer atlas. You know this is out of date, right? Half the oasis in Sumeru is covered in sand now."

"Why would I ever throw it out?"

"It's old," you lament again.

"And?"

"And... you can't even use it?" Your statement comes out more as a question and he can't help but roll his eyes.

"I can still use it," he insists.

You raise a brow, slotting the book back into its regular spot. "Good luck. When are you ever going to have time to do that, oh great and powerful Lord of the Fortress of Meropide?"

He ignores your little jab, as he's gotten so good at throughout his life. There's a sense of familiarity that rises in his chest, a strange nostalgia that drives him to open his mouth once more.

"Actually, about that..."

You turn to look at him again, hand coming up to brush the hair from his eyes. You always used to scold him for not taming it better. Now it seems permanently stuck as a fluffy mess.

"What is it?"

Your fingers graze his skin and he falls apart on the spot, feeling as though you had just tipped him over the edge of the cliff he's been too afraid to dive off of.

His hand catches yours, holding it just beside his cheek for a moment before lowering it to his side and tugging you just a little closer.

If he didn't ask now, would he ever?

"Let's leave this place," he murmurs, reciting the dream you promised him when he was twelve years old. "Let's travel all across Teyvat."

The silence that follows is so loud that it makes his ears ring. For a moment he falters, thinking he may have misread the situation and in turn whatever feelings he thought you may have harboured for him.

But then you take a daring step forward, nearly flush against his body. There's a look of wonder in your eyes that makes his heart race.

"Just you and me?"

"Just you and me." Just us.

There's a heavy implication behind that and you both know it. More than a proposal to chase a dream of bygone days, it's starting to sound like a confession. In his own roundabout ways, of course.

He can see the hitching of your breath, the subtle widening of your eyes, and all he wants to do is laugh at how seriously adorable you look.

"And what about the Fortress?"

"People here are less problematic nowadays than you may think."

"Won't the paperwork back up?"

"I can deal with it whenever I come back."

"Why me?"

Another silence.

"You ask too many questions," he says quietly, dodging your interrogation. In reality, he already has an answer. It's instantaneous, resting comfortably in his mouth but never leaving.

Why would it ever be anyone else?

He's having trouble focusing on anything right now with your chests so close together and his thumb running along your knuckles.

"Wriothesley," you say his name and it sounds like honey, the sweetest thing in all of Teyvat. And the look you're giving him, so touched and melting into nothing but a smiling mess—he isn't sure his heart can handle this. "I can't believe you remembered that."

"You kiddin'?" He laughs, slowly closing the distance between you. "It's all I've thought about my whole life."

He watches you carefully as you swallow down the lump in your throat. Your hand squeezes his and that's when he knows he's got you. You kiss him and he can feel the curve of your lips, the ever growing smile on your face meeting his. His knees are on the verge of buckling by the time you pull away.

"Surely you'll miss this place in your absence. This is your home now, isn't it?" You tease.

"Well, you know what they say." He gives you a grin so wide that his eyes crinkle. "Home is where the heart is."

It didn't matter if you were braving a sandstorm or the rainforest or the depths of the sea. 

Wherever you were, you would be his dream. You would be his home, too—just as you always had been for as long as he could remember.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

#— whispers in the wind ✧ #sacrificial wriothesley fic 🙁 #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin x gn reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x gn reader #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x gender neutral reader #genshin fluff #genshin fic #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact fluff #wriothesley fluff