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the-house-of-auditore-frye · 5 months

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Mk1 intros with exotic dancer!reader

While reader has no bodily description, the vibe I'm going for is

Please enjoy these self indulgent intros! I have put more details about the reader insert under the intros but see how much you can piece together from the dialogue 😂 Also black text is the reader

Johnny * "How much for a dance, beautiful?" "For you and Kenshi? Always on the house..." * "Think about it, gorgeous! You and I? On the red carpet?! IN THAT RED OUTFIT OF YOURS!!" "I'm not sure I'd enjoy the public scrutiny..." * "You are an entertainer like me in Earthrealm?" "An entertainer of sorts... remind me to show you Ninja Mine when we get back home!" * "Many of your earthrealm friends seemed confused that I am bound to both you and Kenshi?" "Yeah... explaining polyrelationships on earth is a bit harder than Outworld..."

Kenshi * "It pains me terribly to know that you can't see me dance anymore..." "I can still see you in a sense. Besides love, I can feel your dancing much more acutely now." * "How many lucky men have seen the red outfit?" "Just you and Johnny..." * "We have already been threatened by the Empress and Princesses to not hurt you love..." "The bite marks you both left probably didn't help your case!" * "Does everyone in Outworld know about your relationship with me and Johnny?" "Unfortunately, court gossip spreads fast, more so regarding me or Mileena..."

Sindel * "Remember my dear, there will always be a place at court for you, should you want it." "Thank you Aunt Sindel!" * "All those times you took the blame for Mileena, I did know about it - thank you." "It helped Mileena's reputation in court to not always the troublemaker, it was necessary." * "Please do not blame Mileena so much for that one night: Tarkat is very easy to contract." "And yet dear, you lived your entire life on the streets and never contracted it?"

Mileena * "Based on the noises I heard from your bedchamber last night, I assume the earthrealmers are good at pleasuring?" "Mil, pleasure doesn't even BEGIN to describe the feeling..." * "Do you remember that celebration by the sea front when you thr-" "SHUSH - Mother does not know about that night..." * "How can you forgive me for blinding your lover?! I wouldn't blame you for hating me-" "You didn't have control! Kenshi knows that and I do too. Besides, how can you forgive me for letting you contract Tarkat?"

Kitana * "A little birdie told me that Raiden likes you..." "I believe that may have been exaggerated..." * "Do you promise you will come back to visit?" "Of course Kit, I'll be back before you know it!" * "Li Mei still does not approve of your choices-" "Believe me, that will not change any time soon."

Li Mei * "I am only looking out for the Princesses' well-being!" "By isolating them from their only friend outside the palace?" * "With your talent, you could have been a better umgadi than Tanya and yet you choose to be an entertainer?!" "I choose to live and enjoy life: not just survive it!" * "Despite what you believe, I am proud of your skill-" "Then maybe show it once in a while!"

Tanya * "Does anyone know about our training?" "No, and I'd prefer it to stay that way." * "Look after Mileena AND Kitana while I am gone - they are like sisters to me." "Of course - it is my honour and duty" * "Thank you for supporting me and Mileena." "I was allowed to be with who I love; Mileena deserves the same."

Raiden * "Do I make you uncomfortable Raiden?" "Uh... uncomfortable is not the word I would use..." * "I can put in a good word to Kitana for you~" "Thank you - that is very kind!" * "Did Johnny explain the relationship to you?" "I... understand the basic principle..."

Kung Lao * "What does Johnny have that I don't?!" "Better table manners for one." * "How much for a dance?" "I doubt you could afford it!" * "Is it true you were engaged to Reiko?!" "He and I grew up together, nothing more."

Bihan * "I will not associate with an outworld whore!" "You do understand that I am a dancer and not a prostitute? Right?" * "I will not be bewitched Sorceress!" "So you DO find me attractive!" * "I heard about the offer you made to Kuai Liang..." "Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?"

Kuai Liang * "I am here to offer you my services... in ANY capacity... or position... you wish..." "Are you still speaking of kombat?" * "I hear you have a red outfit-" "Unfortunately handsome, that is just for Johnny and Kenshi." * "Kombatant or dancer, if I wanted your services, how much-" "For you? On the house..."

Tomas * "Did you ever feel that you did not belong when you lived with the princesses?" "I was fortunate enough to have been friends with both Mileena and Kitana before Aunt Sindel took me in." * "If it puts you at ease, Madam Bo told me of Raiden's how-you-say 'crush' as well, not just yours..." "I can't believe she told you!" * "Kenshi? I am confused, Johnny said-" "This really is a bizarre concept to earthrealmers, isn't it?"

Ashrah * "I heard what your Kriss said about Mileena and Kitana - what does it say about me?" "It says that you are a better person than you let on and that you keep your kindness guarded?" * "You know, I could show you a few moves to impress Syzoth?..." "Oh... thank you?" * "Perhaps you could do me a favour and not tell anyone about the having-a-good-heart revelation from your sword - I have a reputation to keep up." "If that is what you wish."

Syzoth * "Ashrah is a lucky girl... that being said, my offer for a dance is still on the table..." "Oh... umm I appreciate the offer?" * "Ashrah says you are a better person than most people think." "I TOLD HER TO KEEP THAT A SECRET!" * "If it is any consolation, the people of Outworld considered me a freak as well." "It is comforting to know that someone so beautiful has shared my struggles."

General Shao * "I heard about your relationship with the earthrealmers!" "UGH who told you?!" * "You only survived through Royal nepotism!" "Are you still upset about me defeating you at the banquet?! * "Your attractiveness is ruined by your demeanour and personality." "Is this the great general finally admitting his attraction towards me?"

Reiko * "I heard the rumours, your relationship with the earthrealmers-" "Is none of your concern!" * "Had you not left the palace, we would have been engaged!" "There are plenty of reasons we would NOT have been engaged, Reiko." * "You were practically handed a position at court?!" "I chose my freedom Reiko - I did not want to spend the rest of my life as Li Mei's shadow the way you are with the general!"

Shang Tsung * "I want a dance - name your price..." "Easy - YOUR HEAD!" * "I hear you do more than dance for the earthrealmers..." "DOES EVERYONE KNOW ABOUT MY RELATIONSHIP?" * "Not so innocent, are you?" "Like you have any right to judge me!"

For this backstory description to make sense age wise, I'm going to use human years on the scale that Mileena and Kitana are in their 20s with the reader being the same age as Mileena. Backstory: reader is an orphan who grew up with Reiko - the two were just your average street urchins. At around age 7 when they were stealing from the market, reader saw two girls who were very lost and distraught. They asked her if she could show them the way back to the palace. Assuming they were joking, she ignored the request but asked them to hang out with her until their parents arrived. So the three girls and Reiko spent the rest of the day having fun. The next day, Li Mei found the four children and brought them back to the palace saying to Sindel that the reader and Reiko should receive punishment. However, Mileena and Kitana both vouched for them and their abilities in kombat. Shao, upon hearing this, decided to take Reiko under his wing. Meanwhile, Sindel was overjoyed to see that Mileena and Kitana made their first and only friend outside of the palace and decided to take reader in to be trained as an umgadi. So for the next few years, Li Mei trained reader in kombat and the ways of palace life but this did not stop reader and Mileena to sneak out of the palace at any given chance. By the time reader was 16, it was time for her to take the umgadi vows but reader shocked everyone by saying she wants to be a street performer instead of an umgadi. Sindel agreed with the condition that whenever reader is in Sun Do, she will stay at the palace with them. So the reader split her time between staying in Sun Do and travelling.

In terms of trying to match this up with MK1, following Reiko's defeat, Sindel is ready to yell at Li Mei for failing to secure the entertainment when Reader walks through the door offering to do so. The royal family immediately go to hug her leaving the earthrealmer gang confused. Liu Kang then explains the story to Raiden, Kung Lao and a smitten Johnny and Kenshi. The banquet takes place with the reader as the entertainer. When Raiden's toast is interrupted by Shao, reader tells him to back down with a fight ensuing with reader as the victor. She ends up becoming very fond of the earthrealmers and decides to spend time with them. The game then unfolds as usual and after the festival when the earthrealm players return, reader goes with them alongside Ashrah and Syzoth. By the end of the game, reader returns to earth with Johnny and Kenshi with the promise to return Outworld soon. (Also let's say everyone survives in this scenario because I love writing intros for Sindel).

@redlotus98 maybe it's time to make an MK branch of the red house universe...👀

Let me know if you want to see intros for characters talking about the reader

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edgeray · 2 months

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“LATE NIGHT DEVIL, PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME

and never never never ever let go”- Teeth, 5 Seconds of Summer

Mafia AU! Arlecchino x Reader Oneshot

Author's Note: It's been a while since I've actually published anything on here. Well, my gay ass is back with another oneshot. This one has been in the works for at least a month. I'm considering making a Part 2, but that will definitely take at least a couple weeks for me to publish (if not months). I wish I was kidding. School literally hates me and my teachers are incessant on killing my GPA. This is also a gift for @megistusdiary because it'll be her birthday when I post this. Please go check out her blog for amazing genshin wlw content (especially Arlecchino content!) Would you guys like this on AO3 as well?

Content Warning/Info: This is a long af oneshot (6.3k words), long af descriptions and kinda long intro, Arlecchino is referred to with they/them pronouns, implied female but no usage of feminine pronouns for Reader, general dark-ish content, pet names, Arlecchino is a lil scary, I've never been to a club so I apologize for the very inaccurate information, nor have I ever been apart of the mafia so also inaccurate, a bit suggestive but otherwise sfw, if I'm missing anything feel free to tell me!

---

Monsters are said to have lied underneath beds–waiting to ensnare an unknowing victim–or stalk hidden among the depths of a closet–awaiting an opportune moment to strike its next prey. Monsters are fabled entities that are used to scare off children from bad behavior and are quickly eased from the mind by coddling parents. The mere notion of a monster shooed away like a pesky fly, swept underneath the subconscious like forgotten specks of dirt.

You know otherwise. Real monsters don’t lurk on the undersides of mattresses; no, they lurk both in the skies above and the depths below. They do not stalk dark closets because they instead stalk alleys in daylit streets. Monsters are very real, that you know is true since you’ve seen your fair share of them. You’ve met monsters in person–they’ve come to you before. Terrifying is an understatement for them, and each time one has appeared as a client, you’re no less scared shitless.

You’ve learned that even inhumane demons find themselves in need of entertainment; like the sinful creatures they are, they seek self-pleasure. And that is how you found yourself in this particular circle of hell, meant to serve and please demons, devils, and monsters alike. Perhaps it was a revolting job, working at a strip club run by a criminal organization but it paid decent money for being danced on the fingertips of whoever you were unfortunate enough to be assigned to.

If it was a regular strip club, being an exotic dancer would have been fine. It wouldn't be so bad. Lustful and prying eyes can be accustomed to quickly, and so are the flattering compliments and the awkward flirting by middle-aged married men. However, there was a difference between lecherous and predatory gazes. Here, you aren’t even viewed as a person, no, the clients here, those that come in reeking of smoke or blood (though sometimes both), armed with knives and guns on their person, see you as nothing more than a toy or prey for them. Even in the eyes of your employer, you're less than human in their eyes.

‘You harm our merchandise, you’ll pay for it,’ is the warning given to every guest when they first enter. Merchandise. That's what you are. And that single line of words is the only thing that assures you of your safety among mafia members, gangsters, crooks, and whatnot. You've heard that the organization behind this strip club does well in enforcing that rule according to other dancers, but you personally don't want to see if the statement is true. You've been here for a little over a year, and besides bruising grips and pulled hair you’ve surprisingly yet to be seriously injured in any way. So maybe monsters do have a little humanity in them.

You're quickly growing to be a fan favorite as of recently, which means more money goes your way, but you're not sure how you feel about all the attention on you. It's most likely because of how often you offer private dances and private rooms to clients. Whatever gets you the most money; the faster you make money the faster you can pay off your debt and be out of here.

Tonight is supposed to be no different from other nights. You perform on stage, you rile up the crowd, you get showered in tips, and if there is a customer that looks mentally sane enough not to murder you in private, you take them to the back. Except, tonight, you're approached by your boss, who informs you that the entirety of the club was reserved by the Fatui, a well-known mafia more powerful and larger than the one that backs you up, for some celebration. These kinds of occurrences in the club rarely crop up, but when they do, they're often the most opportune time to bag in an abundant amount of money. Big shots like the Fatui pay and tip well, but there's one unsaid risk that comes with this: as a mere dancer like yourself, your life quite literally dangles in the Fatuis’ hands tonight. The organization that owns this establishment can't retaliate against the Fatuis if they so choose to dismiss the warning. They can't even compare to the might of the Fatui.

Simply put, if a Fatui kills you tonight, no one could do more besides bat their eyelashes. You're not at all pleased with this predicament of practically bordering on death, especially when you know one wrong move with one too hot-tempered Fatui could land you at the pearly gates. Keep pleasing the crowd, keep entertaining them, keep racking in the money, you remind yourself as you continue your dance, twirling around the pole sensually, and the customers devour every movement with their eyes. The only comfort you're given is that you've heard the Fatui are quite reasonable and diplomatic most of the time. This is especially true for the Harbingers, you've heard, the twelve most elite members that serve under the Tsaritsa, and the ones that are the most exclusive customers this night. That doesn't mean the Harbingers are any more humane than the average crook. Having worked in a strip club run by the mafia and surrounded by criminal organizations, the more rumored something is, the more dangerous it is. They can be considered devils amongst demons even. That's simply how vile they're supposed to be.

The most concerning problem about the Harbingers is that you don’t know what they look like, only the occasional whisper has alluded to how to distinguish between the twelve. Perhaps, you can survive through the night if you try not to draw too much attention; let the other dancers shine instead and hope you don’t get requested for a private room or dance. That way, you can ensure you don’t end up dead.

Your time to go upstage comes sooner than you’re prepared for. Your hands are clammy, and your form trembles in a way that only happened during your first month. Both reactions don’t make for a very good combination when your survival relies on you not fucking up and disappointing criminal customers. As you approach the pole, just like every time you’ve done, you make sure that the crowd’s gazes are in the backdrop of your mind, and instead, fixate on repeating the movements you’ve been taught and have mastered with your experience. Bet your survival on the provocative sway of your hips, the practiced showcase of your legs, and the allure of your dancing form. Beguile the crowd, but not too much, just enough to wow them. From what you can tell by the volume of the crowd, you’re doing a good job pleasing the Fatui enough. Your body stops tremoring after a few minutes on stage, and with one last final push of courage, you focus your eyes on the crowd before you.

Unsurprisingly, the makeup of the Fatui are men, though there are notably quite a few women. Either way, all of their attention is on you. As your eyes scan across a crowd, for one reason or another, you stop at a particular set of eyes near the back of the crowd. Intent, pitch-black abysses stare back, like they were trying to bore into your soul and devour every single motion of yours. They don’t quite hold the same ravenous desire as many of those before you right now, you mentally note with curiosity. It feels like your form is being calculated, in the way a predator would cautiously observe their next prey, a sensation you’ve experienced a few times, but each is no less chilling. The weight of their engrossed gaze causes you to shiver momentarily, and you snap away from their disturbing gaze to prevent any fumbling or faltering while you’re on stage.

Tonight marks the first time you actively seek out the same viewer while on stage, or even, during your entire time here. For some reason, you feel awfully bold, or curious, whichever two comforts you more, and unlike the meek little rabbit you usually are, you instead search for the viewer’s gaze. You find the pair of eyes with relative ease, as you remember that above their eyes are distinctive snow-white strands with streaks as black as their orbs. You take a moment to study them, and they remind you of a lion–or lioness–among hyenas. The aura they exude varied quite a bit compared to the other Fatui in front of you: not rambunctious, or arrogant; it's apparent they held an aura of indomitable authority just from the way they held themselves. Perfect posture with their clasped hands nested in their lap, with one leg raised over the other. They’re an embodiment of perfected elegance, however, much like a porcelain doll, they’re also expressionless, their appearance unmarred. You don’t examine the Fatui’s form for much longer because their scrutiny on you pricks at your skin irritatedly.

You don’t look for them again throughout your performance. In fact, you hope you never meet those charcoal pits again. You’re afraid that if you do, you’ll be ensnared by whatever beastly claws or fangs you know that Fatui hides underneath that impenetrable mask. The moment your time on stage ends, you rush back to the changing room to shake off your nerves. You sit down at a nearby chair, taking in deep sighs as you attempt to forget how you were stared down like a you were cornered, defenseless animal. And that is what you are, as much as you hate it. There’s nothing that can protect you from the Fatui. Maybe if you hide, never show your face for the rest of the night, they’ll forget they ever saw you and they’ll target another dancer. Surely, that will work, won’t it?

You’re able to steady your breathing before you can delve into a panic attack. Tonight, you decide, you’re not going to take any customers to any private rooms or take any private dances. You’d be missing out on a lot of money, but your life is more of a priority as of currently; not after the ‘encounter’ with that individual, you don’t want to think about how many more are just like them, hiding in the crowd like they were awaiting an opportunity to pounce on your vulnerable form.

Unfortunately, it seems like someone else has other plans for you because your manager storms into the room asking for your whereabouts before his eyes narrow on you. You immediately sit up, stiff as a board when he practically marches his way towards you.

"Someone wants you."

You sigh and shake your head. You should have known. "Not tonight."

He clicks his tongue. "You know I can't allow that tonight."

You bite your lip. "Just pass them to someone else."

"They're not someone you or I can refuse."

"Who?" You question with a shuddering breath, your nails digging into your thigh.

"The fourth one. The Knave. Lord Arlecchino."

Fuck your life. You might as well pull the trigger now. You’ve heard faint whispers of each Harbinger from the customers audacious enough to speak of them. The youngest, the eleventh, charming and boyish. The ninth, money-obsessed but a pretty looker. The eighth, elegant and cold, yet no less alluring. The seventh, as human-like as their robotic creations, which to say isn’t very. The sixth, is hotheaded and mysterious. The fifth, unknown. And the fourth?

Insane. Ruthless. Bloodthirsty. That’s how the fourth is described. You shiver at the horrors that appear on the forefront of your mind when imagining what may come for you. If you're lucky, you'll be alive at the end of the night, more than likely clinging to the edge of living.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Get ready as soon as you can.”

And you do. It’s not long until you stand in front of the private room’s door, your guest is already inside more than likely. The Fourth Harbinger is waiting, you remind yourself, fruitlessly trying to swallow down your stress. You can be dead the minute you step inside, this room could be marked as your grave. Whatever he tells you to do, you’ll obey wordlessly to survive. Just nod along, smile, and do whatever it is that he tells you regardless of the demand. You inhale deeply, regaining some ease of mind, before you bring your knuckles to the door, knocking.

“Come in,” comes a deep, flat voice, slightly muffled by its distance but what surprises you is how feminine the Harbinger sounds. Maybe you got the wrong room. You glance back at the room number plate on the door, and it’s the room you remember your manager mentioning. It’s the right room. Maybe someone else? You don’t have time to wonder, however, as you enter the room, knowing that if it is the Fourth, it wouldn’t be wise to keep him (Her? Them? You’ll just stick with ‘them’ now.) waiting.

“Lord Arlecchino?” You inquire as you enter the room, closing the door behind you. Sucking in a harsh inhale, you instantly recognize their distinct hair. It’s them. Your sight is immediately greeted by the figure sitting on the couch before you, sitting in exactly the same way you discovered them–crossed-legged and lounging back with unfaltering confidence. The Knave wears a scarlet blazer over a black compressed turtleneck, with a matching set of crimson leggings. Upon closer inspection, you’re able to make out red irises in their jet-black eyes. Despite the blatant and literal red flag, something about their appearance draws you in even when they scream danger. They’re… you’re not quite sure how to describe them. You admire the unblemished and pale skin, their elegant and rugged demeanor is like the perfect balance between femininity and masculinity. Are they beautiful, or are they handsome? You think both.

Arlecchino stares back at you like they’re considering devouring you then and there. You can’t suppress the shudder that runs down your spine. You’re a sheep before a wolf. There’s something so chilling about them that even with your experience with other clients, none has ever made you feel this way with just their mere gaze alone. This is what separates the average crook from one of the most powerful mafia members you've ever heard of.

You wait for a response but they only continue to observe you. You take the silence as confirmation to your question and that they’re anticipating something from you. Biting back a sigh of resignation, your hands hook underneath the band of your bra top and you lift it just the slightest amount before a cutting voice makes you freeze.

“What are you doing?” the Harbinger demands, their tone chilling and apathetic, making you want to shrink in yourself immediately. Your blood pumps loudly in your ears and your hands tremble a bit. Something about how designing their gaze makes you suddenly self-aware in a way you’ve never felt before another client–you’re practically half-naked in front of them with your skimpy bra top, undergarments, and fishnets and now is the only moment that you've actually considered how little covering is on you.

Why are they stopping you? Isn’t this what they wanted you to do? Or maybe they just want to do it themselves. Those types of customers always have the most bruising of grips and suffocating of holds. You stiffen at the notion. How are you going to survive this night with a Fatui Harbinger of all things? How many of your limbs are going to be fractured and how many of your bones are going to end up broken?

“I…I’m undressing,” your meek voice sounds out and you hate the crack in your speech. The Harbinger continues to scrutinize you. You don’t dare continue disrobing yourself.

There are several beats of wordless response before they then stand up from the couch.

Oh shit. You’ve fucked up. Are they going to kill you now? Is this your end?

Every thought is telling you to run in the opposite direction as they stalk up to you, but you're petrified as you realize with a chill that they’re taller than you. You’re not short by any means, a bit above average height, but they tower over you, looking down at you from above and casting judgment on you like a god. Once they stride toward you, you avoid eye contact by looking straight, observing their neck and clavicle that protrudes from underneath the fabric. You tense when they raise a hand, their manicured fingers placing themselves underneath your chin and long, carmine nails dig into the underside of your jaw, making you wince. They forcefully tilt your head, raising your focus onto their face.

It’s like they plunged their hands down your throat and ripped out the oxygen from your lungs, leaving you unable to breathe. Up close, the first thing you notice is their lips, plump and red from their lipstick. Briefly, you wonder what color their lipstick would look on your skin. Then your eyes travel up, red-crossed eyes gaze back at you and you gape quietly at the distinct shape of their pupils. You swear that their pupils flash red as you finally lock eye contact with them.

“Did I tell you to?” Their tone is cold compared to the strange softness of their handsome (beautiful?) face.

Something in your gut coils inwardly and you want to look away, but their firm hold on your chin prevents you. You bite your bottom lip to repress a whimper. You’re delicate glass in their hands, and they can break you so, so easily.

“No, sir.” Only the numerous times you’ve said this phrase ensures you don’t stumble over your words. They don’t answer promptly, but as they observe your features, their lips quirk up the slightest amount.

“You know how to address me. Very good,” Arlecchino purrs after several beats of silence, in a low, oh-so-sultry tone, and oh. Oh.

You’re not sure why, but their last two words make your stomach churn, but not in a discomforting way. In the way that lights a fire underneath your skin and spreads heat to every part of your body. You’ve never quite felt this way with another customer. You couldn’t believe that your body reacts this way just from a single praise but it doesn’t stop the pooling heat in your bowels. The chill down your spine still remains in place, but there’s an off-putting equilibrium of iciness and fervor generated from the client.

The Fatui’s eyes stay fixated on you wordlessly until the hand on your chin turns your head, finally breaking you free of their intense behold. Their grip slackens so that they can trace their nails gently down your throat, every inch of surface their fingertips brush against ignites a blaze on your skin. A shuddering exhale leaves your lips and it seems like they take notice because from the corner of your eye, the small uptick of their mouth grows. Despite how sensual and probing the Harbinger’s touch feels, there’s nothing lecherous about it–purely just intrigue and fascination. It’s a touch you both have and never experienced before. Cold nails rake against your throat, not enough to mark or scratch, but enough to invoke shivers.

You’re aware you should be terrified, but for a reason you can’t pin down, you can’t jerk away from their touch. You try to reason with yourself it was only because you’re one upset away from getting yourself killed but that reasoning falls apart when their hand gingerly traces your jawline and you make the softest of groans, a barely audible noise of content. Unfortunately for you, the sound seems to have reached Arlecchino’s ears and their expression softens slightly: their eyes narrow less and their brows aren’t as creased. And that smirk–if you could even call it that from how faint it is–becomes a half-smirk.

They pull their hand away and your trance is broken, reality returning back to you as you remember that the person before you is still a Fatui Harbinger, no matter how bizarrely melting their touch was. They turn on their heel and walk towards the couch in front of you; the slightest bit of heaviness is placed on your heart. You remain stationary where you are, observing them as they seat themselves gracefully on the couch, and their attention encounters yours again. Their black pits hold expectancy in them. At first, you’re clueless as to what the criminal desires from you, but then their legs spread apart, an inviting gesture that beckons you and every rational thought leaves your easily swayed mind. Your heart skips a beat, and you're sure this time it's not out of trepidation.

Even if you didn’t command them to, your legs would take you to their seating figure. You stand before them, feeling blatantly disrespectful to look down at Arlecchino, but you await their order. They lean back, lounging laxly against the couch, their posture never lacking their usual self-assurance. It only ties the knot in your gut tighter. You’re aware of what they’re instructing you to do, but the absent confirmation makes you hesitant. It seems like the Knave picks up on this because the room echoes with one definitive spouted word from their lips, authority and dominance ringing through their husky voice.

“Sit.”

Your legs buckle underneath you from the one-worded response, the demand only stoking the consuming fire inside you. Eager to please, you perch yourself on their lap, straddling them, your knees pressed into the furniture below you and encasing both of their thighs between your own.

Oh, you think to yourself as your legs make contact with their thighs. They're firm. And for some reason, that provokes your stomach to churn in itself even more. You're so close to them, enough to feel their breath cascade against your skin.

As you seat yourself, you nearly clumsily topple over, instinctively grasping onto their shoulders for support. Their shoulders are remarkably broad, you regard, well-muscled as well. Their hands creep up on your hips, steady but gentle hands grasping on each bare side of yours to stabilize you. The heat that radiates from their hands is infectious, regardless of the nails that burrow into your plush waist. For the first time, you flush considerably, a sweltering inferno forming in your cheeks and your head fills with dizziness. Their touch is gentle–something you rarely experience with customers–so, so gentle that you would describe it as heavenly. How can someone so inexplicably vile have heaven on their fingertips?

It's not a position you never found yourself in. In fact, it's far from the first time you've been like this with another client. But here, as you're sat on top of the Fatui Harbinger, and red x-pupils search yours, a foreign feeling passes through you. Placing your finger on it, you dubiously think it's bashfulness, but the heartbeat that sings in your ears and pulses underneath your fingertips tells you otherwise, tells you it's something more. Against that, you remove your grasp on their shoulders and place your palm flat against the couch’s surface behind the Knave.

You squirm a bit, nervousness in your form as you remain as still as you possibly can, waiting for any more instructions. All you need to do is act like an obedient doll for them in order to survive; compliance is the best way of ensuring survival with people like these. You feel like you're merely eye candy from the way that their attention flits across your body, but you're immobile throughout the entirety of their observance. Being looked at is much better than any physical interaction. Their hands still cup your hips, but slowly, they descend to the side of your thighs, making your skin feel tingly.

Impulsively, you mumble out a quiet "Sir…" as strange sensations brush against your skin.

The sound surprises you and you feel on edge as their eyes travel from your lower half to your face. You gulp considerably. From their stare, they expect more of a response, a reason for their addressment, but even you don’t know yourself; it seems like an unconscious calling that just rolled off your tongue. You cow underneath their gaze, even when the two of you are at eye level. When you linger in quietude, their hand releases one of your thighs and lifts to your face, supporting your chin while their thumb rests on your bottom lip, unfurling it just the slightest amount to implore an answer from your now parted lips. Gleaming scarlet pupils grip your regard sternly, piercing into you and instilling you to spew something out. Except, you still can’t, now too entranced and lost in the crimson.

“Doll.”

Despite the pet name, it's devoid of any affection or warmth. It's a word that drips of command, a reminder of your place: simply a toy that they can play with however they want, a manipulated and decorated plaything for their amusement. That means you answer to them, and so when they request a response, you're under the obligation to please them. Your survival is in their palms anyway, if they wanted you to dance, you would just so they wouldn’t strangle the life out of you.

However, its implication doesn’t prevent the tingling shudders that wrack your body nor the involuntary clenching of your thighs around theirs. Was it the gravelly voice that aroused your behavior? Your cheeks flare at the knowledge that Harbinger sensed the physical reaction. It shouldn't be possible. It shouldn't be possible, your thoughts repeat, but then they're interrupted by:

"Oh?" Arlecchino inquires to themselves, a stark amusement in their speech. Their red glare illuminates slightly, replacing the lost darkening with a faint glow in their pupils, and the corner of their mouth curls up. It is only then that you discover something entirely new: that monsters can be sinfully, cataclysmically, terrifyingly beautiful and the sight before you is the most exquisite example. A devil has you wrapped in its claws and its fangs readied for devouring but it’s disguised as an ethereal angel; blinded by their perilous allure, you mistake their snow-white hair, their lustrous piercing rubies, their flawless porcelain skin, and their burning, fleeting touches as traits of a seraph. From a measly smirk, you forget the atrocities lying underneath their fingertips and dismiss the hazard their presence holds.

The hand on your thigh rakes its fingers up, red nails trailing across the surface of your fishnet, wrenching out a breathy gasp from you as they travel inwards. Tingling pleasure injects into your veins as you subconsciously lean in, imploring for further sensual contact. A plea sits on your tongue and nests in your eyes as you beg them through your pitiful expression. They drink in your desperation with a slow swipe of their tongue over their lips, and that single action is debauched enough to elicit a soft groan from your throat.

“Well, aren’t you an amusing toy?” They drawl out with a preposing rasp and dark abysses glint with an insatiable hunger.

They smirk enticingly, their thumb running across your bottom lip and smearing your lipstick on their thumb pad. Their grip on your chin tightens a bit, pulling you even closer to them before a shadow casts over you when their face nears. Before you can even fathom their intentions, they descend upon you, closing the distance between the two of you. Your lips are greeted with something pillowy soft and fervently warm, and you sharply inhale from the sensation. Every one of your nerves sings frenziedly, your muscles tense all over, and your heartbeat drums deafeningly in your ears–all of this as your body is engulfed in a fervid tornado of heat that makes you lightheaded with pleasure. It takes you several beats to realize the reason for this is that Lord Arlecchino, the Fourth Harbinger, the Knave is kissing–no, kissing is far too intimate, devouring–you voraciously like they're trying to rob you of any air, trying to imprint themselves on your mouth. Their mouth dominates yours, pushing against them with a deep fervor and famished urgency, eager to swallow every bit of shocked noise you make.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to indulge.

You first taste lipstick with a waxy flavor hitting your tastebuds. It’s cold against your lips, yet warm at the same time. But the physical texture and flavor of their lips are irrelevant; there’s only one true manner you would distinguish their taste:

They taste like sin.

The type of sin that’s chocolate coated and sprinkled with colorful toppings; depravity so sweet and charming it makes you reconsider the bounds of right and wrong. Degeneracy is far, far tastier than anything you’ve indulged in before. How can something so evil be so heavenly? Cushiony soft, placidly warm, flatteringly zealous, it’s like having a dance with a devil; so unequivocally immoral but no less gratifying. You question if they really belong to the Fatui because how can something like this come from such? You want to engrave the texture of their mouth onto your memory, feel this faux intimacy even when you’ve long parted. The Fourth Harbinger, you surmise as you surrend your will to them, is decadent–the only word that can be defined as both wicked and delectable at once–the perfect word to describe them.

The last remaining bit of reasoning comes to the backdrop of your thoughts and begs you to not be swept away in the heavenly embrace. You discount it in favor of accepting this godsent gift by leaning further with a weak imitation of their ravishing lips and pressing back. It’s a feeble attempt to match their insatiate nature, far too domineering and forceful than you can manage but they display a token of appreciation when they squeeze your thigh, indenting your skin shallowly with the burrowing of their nails. The action exposes just how sensitive you’ve gone underneath their touch and you reward them with the sweetest of sounds.

“Arlecchino,” you mumble with half-lidded dazed eyes in between ravenous exchanges and it evokes a depraved throaty growl from the Fatui, like provoking a call from a starving beast. They lean deeper to indulge in your taste. The gruff sound reaches your ears and it’s like a psalm–you shudder from its musical melody.

Their clutch on your jaw releases and their fingers outline your jawline before snaking to the back of your head. Well-manicured digits entangle themselves in your hair, and there’s a gentle shove against your skull that forces you deeper into the kiss. Your hands clutch onto the couch underneath you as tight as you physically can for any sense of grounding and your knees attempt to close in even more to feel more of their body against yours. The hand on your leg, in turn, caresses the length of your thigh.

Every graceful touch, stroke, and brush exudes an unyielding and infectious warmth that only adds to the stoking fire in your gut, and you’re bathed in so much swelter from the ecstasy that you feel dizzy. Yet, you never want it to end, you grow more addicted and drunk with each encounter of their lips. That, paired with your strained breathing, prompts your stamina to falter much sooner than the Harbinger’s. You let out a soft whine to signal your depleting oxygen, and their mouth unlatch with yours, pulling away despite your ache for more. With the separation comes a small string of saliva attached between the two of you, evidence of the shared intimacy that’s snapped when they lick their lips. The hand behind your head detangles from your hair and you silently mourn over the loss of contact.

You heave for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. You’re a little perturbed when you notice that they’re not even out of breath, a small but firm reminder that they’re as inhuman as humans can be. That knocks a sense of reality back into you. Customer, mafia, Fatui, Harbinger, it comes back to you like a train. Here you are swapping spit with them while in the lap of potentially the most dangerous criminal you could ever meet, but fuck were they a good kisser–you’ve never experienced anything that came close to this in your lifetime.

Any foolish doubtful contemplation of the morality of this interaction is swept away just like that when you hear:

“Greedy little thing that you are,” they regard with the most cunning and handsome of smiles, discrete amusement dripping from their words. Their dark pits behold you entirely, the same way they have always done when it seems like they were contemplating what part of you to savor the most. Only this time, you’re not so disturbed by the notion. If anything, the swirling heat in between your legs suggests the opposite.

Greedy wasn't a word often associated with you, yet you couldn't more correctly describe yourself in that moment. Greedy. Greedy for a Fatui Harbinger no less. As ashamed as you should be, there's no use denying that you crave for their touch, for their gaze, for anything and everything they're willing to give you. You want everything and more. The more you contemplate, the more it seems obvious why you wouldn’t. Are they a devil disguised as an angel, or are they an angel that fell from grace? Regardless, they bring nirvana to you. An incessant desire bubbles inside you, your throat swelling up with an urgent request on the tip of your tongue. Would they allow such a thing if you plead? Would they be offended by your impudence? Would they punish you for such? But the necessity outweighs any reconsideration of your insolence and the supplicant beg tumbles out of your loose lips.

“Can I… touch you please, my Lord?” You croak out, wincing at just how wretched it comes out. The response from them is not immediate as the two of you stew in silence, a building sense of dejection inside of you. The expression on their face noticeably contorts, smile lessening, their brows furrowing, and their red x’s glinting dimly. Their free hand raises to near your neck and you suck in a harsh breath as their fingers enclose around your throat. The mere action sends a stinging reminder to your lust-dazed thoughts about their position, and a chill pierces you.

Mafia, Fatui, Harbinger, the Fourth Harbinger, the Knave–the labels cycle through your thoughts. Though their grip is lax, not exactly suffocating and giving ample space to breathe, their fingertips does acutely jab into your skin, a display of their impressive grip strength. You have no doubt that they can suffocate you with one hand alone, snap your neck, or, as your mind ventures into more harrowing territories, crush your skull. Those thoughts alone has you breathless with anticipation. A heavy weight suddenly appears in your gut, so heavy that you feel like you can’t move so much as a muscle.

Did you just go too far? Was that too much to ask? Was this how you were going to die?

The reflex to gag and inhale combat each other in your throat, a discomforting sensation that crawls up your spine while you tremble. You’re almost certain that the nails have penetrated the layer of skin, drawing beads of blood that’ll trail down your mark. You whimper at the prickly pain. Yet, in all your unease, the most masochistic thought arrives briefly at the forefront, and you can’t help but consider: this position is just as intimate as all the other interactions. You’re already so vulnerable in their lap, does the hand around your neck change your peril in any way? No, you’ve been a defenseless lamb to a slaughter the moment you’ve stepped into the domain of a menacing wolf.

Ah. Even now, you can’t dismiss the warmth of their fingertips.

“Do you still want to touch me when I do this?” They demand callously, their voice harsh and reverberating through the room. Their grasp closes more around, and you feel your supply of oxygen inhibited. Tears begin to brim your eyes, but you’re undeterred. Unlike Arlecchino’s, your answer is instant and breathless. Your eyes intently lock on theirs, the hardened expression enough to satisfy their question. There’s no need for contemplation. Danger, you determine, is addicting.

“Yes.”

The previously small smile stretches across their lips considerably. Content, or dare you say it, thrill writes itself over their face and the boulder previously pressed against your shoulders is lifted. Your throat is freed from their hold, but their touch doesn’t halt there. Instead, they rotate your head for you to face to the left, exposing your side profile to them. From the corner of your eyes, you watch as their face draws closer to your skin, hot breath cascading across the small dents her nails created. The one on your thigh finally leaves, moving to one of your hips, tender strokes across your flushed surface. They lean forward, and moist, plush skin meets yours. Lips traverse over the length of your neck, teeth scraping against, making you weakly groan. It takes all of your will to still your body, only allowing for the Harbinger to do whatever they desire to your form. Their touches are burning, burning, burning–so hot that you wonder if you’re experiencing a heat wave. Peppered kisses follow the edge of your jawbone, all the way up to your earlobe. A wet kiss graces your ear and then the most sinful of statements dignifies your eardrums, like a devil whispering hymns directly into your ear.

“I think I’ll keep you to myself after this.”

A short hum follows afterward.

“If you want to touch me, you’ll have to work for it. You’re only mine for tonight, aren't you? Entertain me. Give me a private dance, doll. After all, you have me for all night.”

---

Link to M-Alexa's amazing art and how I imagine Arlecchino to look like in this oneshot.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact fanfics #guys I'm so tired it's 2AM rn #i have school tomorrow guys #i chose to finish this tonight despite the shit ton of homework I have to do #arlecchino brain rot does that to you #def worth it #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact arlecchino #genshin arlecchino #genshin fics #arlecchino smut #edgeray.writes #edgeray.blog

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fear-is-truth · 6 months

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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐧 x flu! reader

in his mind, there was a hint of selfish delight at the prospect of you staying home from school and spending the entire day with him.

but then he realized that you’re suffering, which it made him feel extremely guilty.

so he makes it his personal mission to make you feel better. (succeeded)

since he’s a ghost, he’s immune to your illness.

he brings you extra blankets and tissues, and anything you ask for. he’ll go get it, zero complaints.

“can i get you water? food? medicine?”

“can i have a popsicle?”

“are you sure? you really shouldn't..."

“please?”

“…what flavour do you want?”

you play cards, listening to nirvana or just talk about random stuff.

he steals your cough drops when he thinks you’re not watching. he’s dead, but still has a sweet tooth.

lacing your fingers together while spooning. (the first time he assumes the position of the big spoon!)

𝐊𝐢𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 x common cold! reader

takes the day off to look after you.

"kit, it's just a common cold, you really don't have to-"

“in sickness and in health, mrs walka. don’t you remember?”

he brings you extra blankets and wool socks if you’re feeling chilly.

a damp cloth for your forehead if you’re burning up.

he protects your peace when you’re sleeping.

“no, don't wake mommy! she’s sleepy and needs some rest. how 'bout you and thomas go make her a get-well card?”

does the household chores while you rest. ( laundry, cooking, helping the kids with their homework)

checks on your temperature every hour.

“my grandma swears by this chicken noodle soup recipe, nothing some soup and a cuddle can’t fix.”

this man is an absolute angel sent from heaven.

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 x common cold! reader

“you have a fever, sweetness. of course i'm not going anywhere.”

would be grossed-out the pile of used tissues on your bedside table. but he’s too polite to mention it.

he’ll call someone to clean it up, though.

brings your hand to his lips, murmuring sweet words. suddenly you’re not sure if the heat on your cheeks is from the fever or because of james.

pampers you like a literal goddess.

personally supervises the kitchen staff to prepare your favorite dishes, then has them delivered to you on a gleaming silver tray.

fresh bouquets of flowers.

“you need to drink the tonic, love. how else will your cold go away?”

“aw, darling you look miserable... need me to kill someone for your entertainment?”

he’ll tell you stories about his past travels; exotic places he’d visited. (or his most prided murders, if you’re into that sort of thing too)

𝐊𝐚𝐢 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 x stomach flu! reader

he leans against the bathroom door, face devoid of any emotion, while you hunch over the toilet, vomiting.

eventually, he lets out a sigh and squats down beside you, gently pulling back your hair away as you continue to retch into the toilet.

“you look like absolute crap.”

after you’re done, kai stands up. without warning, he scoops you up, bridal style.

“puke on me, and i’ll drop you.”

he carries you downstairs to the basement and dumps you rather unceremoniously onto the couch. hands you a bucket.

then he ignores you. acts like he doesn’t give a flying fuck about your well-being.

sits on the floor working on his laptop, occasionally sneaking glances at your direction.

“you can watch tv if you want. just not american housewife.”

“i’m going to the kitchen. need anything?”

mansplains to you about the importance of health and self-preservation.

“why can’t you take better care of yourself, huh?” he grumbles as he tossed you a throw blanket.

“this one’s gonna cost you. big time.” he groused as he set a glass of water and two tylenol on the coffee table.

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ! 𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 x common cold! reader

tells his frat brothers to kindly leave the two of you alone.

he dots on you. babies you, even.

“come on. take the medicine, i’ll get you some ice cream after you’ve taken it”

keeps a steady supply of throat lozenges and tissues within your reach, anticipating your needs before you even ask.

draws a warm bath for you when he sees you shivering.

lends you his own clothes to wear.

you looked so adorable in his hoodie and sweatpants, he stared at you.

you watch a movie on his laptop, snuggled against each other in bed.

soothing back rubs!

“you're going to get sick if you keep coddling me like this, ky.”

“you won’t get me sick. well. you might, but i don’t mind.”

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

✧. a/n ─ my apologies for not including jimmy and austin.. will update when i finish watching! pls excuse the crappy writing, english is not my first language.

✧. part 2: the evans when they are sick

©️@brknlamb

#american horror story #tate langdon #kai anderson #evan peters #james patrick march #kit walker #kyle spencer #tate langdon x reader #kai anderson x y/n #jpm x reader #kit walker x reader #ahs #tate langdon x y/n #kai anderson x reader #ahs imagine #the evans headcanons

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sayhoneysiren · 9 months

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WHAT'S UR SEDUCTIVE CHARM

I II III

book a personal reading here

welcome sirens! this reading is for entertainment pursposes only based on the downloads i receive. do not attack me if the message doesn’t resonate. keep in mind this is a collective reading, not a individual one. with that being said, enjoy!

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tarot readings list

xx HoneySiren xx 🍒

I ~ Your charm is your Elusiveness. You prefer to keep your circle small and don't open up to others easily. It takes effort to get your attention and tie you down, since you have high standards. Many of you may attract athletes or be athletic yourself. People seem to be in awe with your physique. You could enjoy dressing in leather and velvet fabrics.

Underneath your cool exterior you are a very compassionate, sensitive and spiritual person who can be shy at times or have anxiety about being seen. People view your shyness as 'cute' and instantly become somewhat protective over you. In a social setting, you are probably stationed in the corner of the room waiting for others to approach you or surrounded by close people you know.

Your eyes are alluring and can be felt across the room. People yearn to know more about you and what lies behind your enchanting gaze. They question why you're so quiet and to yourself.

When getting to know you, people notice that you are blunt and honest, preferring to cut straight to the point. You can clearly see through players, fakeness and egos and you're not here to entertain the bs. It also surprises people that you are so intelligent, headstrong and charming. But you only open to who you deem worthy.

II ~ Your charm is JE NE SAIS QUOI, Unfamiliar, profound and spellbinding, You are a person of potent power and you know it. Your essence oozes a calm confidence that fascinates and touches everyone around you.

Many may view you as a lone wolf or distinct in the way you present yourself. No one can check you off into any box. Some of you are of a different descent than those around you,

making you seem exotic. People could be enthralled by your accent, voice, unique fashion sense or your culture. You don't care about appearing weird to others. Staying authentic to yourself is most important and by doing this you give others hope, expand their minds and show them that they too can express their truest selves. You take them to another world where they can see themselves with loving eyes.

A glo' up' has been real for some of you and your looks have evolved tremendously. People describe you as a baddie or an it girl. You just have a captivating quality. On top of that, you KNOW how to seduce and don't care about being labeled 'bad'. Some of you embrace the label of the 'bad girl'.

People love taking time to get to know you and you enjoy talking about your big dreams. You don't stay still, always seeking to grow. Therefore always evolving.

III ~ Your charm is the Finesser.

From first glance no one would expect you are a powerful witch. The spell work and affirmations you do helps you manifest things excellently. You are able to see situations for what they are and manipulate it into what you want them to be. You may also be connected to nature and have some unique spiritual tattoos.

You are the undercover player moving in very strategic ways. You’re the type to meet your crush and reverse them to like you. You charm them by playing coquette and get them on your side to do whatever you want. You may use the affirmation "Everything I want wants me more."

You have many different sides to show, but you never reveal your full hand all at once. One day you're innocent then the next day naughty, happy then sad. You always have a one up one people, so things never get dull with you. You may also love to shock and surprise people.

You're not boastful or afraid of showing vulnerability. You know this works in your benefit and no one suspects you until it's too late. Until they're too far gone under your charm.

People think you're losing but you’re actually winning.

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why-animals-do-the-thing · 1 year

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hi there! love your work! i recently had a prof say that all zoos (USA) are bad (so we shouldn't support them) and sanctuaries are better because using animals for entertainment is morally wrong, most zoo profits dont go to conservation, and conservation efforts are bandaid solutions to capitalism destroying animal habitats, so the real solution is to return the land to indigenous stewards to manage/rewild. i didn't disagree with the last bit, but the argument as a whole felt a little off to me for a reason i couldnt put my finger on. am i off base here? just feeling really unsure about the whole thing.

You're not wrong! There's a mix of reality and personal opinions in those statements, and it's definitely something worth critically examining. A quick fact-check of what they said for you:

All US zoos are bad

There's a massive range of quality of zoological facilities within the US (and around the world). Some are stellar and some are not, and it's really just not accurate to lump them all under the same umbrella for almost any purpose. Unless, of course, your issue isn't with animal welfare, and it's philosophical, which is what it sound like in #2...

2. Using animals for entertainment is morally wrong.

This is one of my favorite things to talk about w/r/t how we exhibit animals. Entertainment has become equated with exploitation and implicit low welfare in the last couple decades, and so you get a lot of people saying using animals for entertainment is wrong. But those same folk will say that they enjoy seeing animals in other contexts, and they think that's okay. Where's the line between enjoying something and being entertained by it? What makes something one and not the other? Also, we know that people learn better from from situations which are enjoyable/entertaining - even just a fun teacher who jokes around vs a dry lecture - so how can that only be a problem when it's used to make viewing animals more impactful? I wrote a whole piece on this a while back (linked here) if you want to dig into this more. Some zoos (and accrediting groups) are shying away from "entertainment" type branding - shows are demos now, for instance - and others are leaning into "edutainment" that's done with good welfare and communicates actual education messaging. In short, this is a personal philosophical belief, and you're right to question if you agree. (Even if you decide you do think that too! It's always good to question why someone is arguing what they believe about animal use, and how they came to believe it).

3. Sanctuaries are better than zoos.

There's two reasons I think he's misinformed here. First, almost all exotic animal sanctuaries in the US are licensed exhibitors - just like zoos! I only know of a couple that don't exhibit to the public at all. It's an important part of their revenue stream, because gate take helps support paying for animal care. Also anything you see from a sanctuary on Youtube, Facebook, or TikTok? Also exhibition! They just message about it differently, and often have a different ethos about how they exhibit (e.g. tours to reduce stress instead of letting people wander, doing conservation or rescue messaging instead of just display). Second... look, most people assume that the word "sanctuary" means a facility is intrinsically more ethical than a zoo, and therefore they must be a good place. In reality, many sanctuaries get much less public and regulatory scrutiny (at the state level) than most zoos. There are good sanctuaries out there, but there are also sanctuaries where stuff goes on that would absolutely be unacceptable at zoos, and it slides because of the assumption that sanctuaries are inherently more moral and ethical and care for their animals better.

4. Most zoo profits don't go to conservation

This is correct! Direct conservation funding is often a small part of the money a zoo makes. However, that's because money goes to things like facility maintenance, new construction, paying salaries, etc. If zoos put all the money they made back into conservation programs, practically, they wouldn't have the funding to continue to operate. The question that I'd suggest asking instead is "where are they putting money into conservation" and "are they doing conservation work or just throwing money at something to display the logo of the program." Also, it's worth keeping in mind that a lot of what zoos do to support conservation isn't necessarily financial. Many facilities contribute "in-kind", by doing things like sending staff to assist with programs or teach specific skills, or by donating things like vehicles and equipment. Research zoos do also seriously contributes to in-situ programs, and breeding programs for re-introduction like the scimitar-horned oryx and the black-footed ferret are also conservation. Could many of the big urban facilities with huge budgets do more? Yes. But looking just at dollars spent on conservation programs is disingenuous and inaccurate.

5. Conservation efforts are band-aid solutions to capitalism destroying habitats / Returning the land to indigenous peoples to manage/rewild is the real solution to conservation issues

This is a little outside my scope so I'm going to only address the part that I know. First off, like, there's no One True Answer to conservation issues. That's reductionist and inaccurate. Conservation really is a human issue, though, and it often has to involve solving human problems that lead to negative results for animals. There's definitely an issue with what some people call "parachute conservation" where Westerners swoop in and try to tell people living in range countries how to best manage their animals and natural resources without recognizing their perspectives, needs, or what drives their behavior towards those animals. That's not just a zoo issue - that's an issue with a ton of traditional Western conservation work. And there is progress towards fixing it! In the zoo world, I've been very impressed with the work out of The Living Desert, where their conservation people spend a lot of time overseas teaching people in range countries to evaluate and improve their own conservation programs, so they can assess efficacy and also have data to apply for grants, etc. They provide support when asked, rather than trying to tell people who live with these animals regularly what to do. One of my favorite programs that TLD collaborates with (they don't try to run it!) is a group called the Black Mambas that reduces poaching by supporting entire communities to reduce the desperation for food/income, educating kids about animals, and running all-female patrols staffed by community members.

Overall, it sounds like your professor's view of zoos is really informed by their personal moral perspective, and possibly reinforced by a lot of the misinformation / misleading messaging that exists about the industry and about conservation work. They do have some specifics right, but not necessarily the context to inform why things are like that. It was a good catch to question the mix of information and approach it critically.

#zoo industry #zoo information #philosophy around zoos and what they do #conservation #zoo questions

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cosmicpuzzle · 1 year

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How to Impress the Venus ♀️ signs (During Dating)

Aries Venus : Talk to them as if you both are already committed, they like love at first sight. If they offer to pay the bill, allow it because they like independence in money matters.

Taurus Venus: Wear a good perfume and talk about your financial goals. Tell them how long you stayed in a job because they like if you have done something for long.

Gemini Venus : Never be silent even for a moment. If they get the slightest clue that you aren't very communicative, they will become disappointed.

Cancer Venus: Tell them you have bought a property or will buy one soon. Ask them how their day has been or ask about their childhood. Allow them the space for personal talks. They will get the idea you care.

Leo Venus : Give them an expensive gift. Make them feel special. Appreciate them. Tell them they are the best in something they do ( you drive the best or make the best soup etc even if they are average in that).

Virgo Venus : Press your shirt and tuck them in, wear small pattern dress ( they don't like large patterns), be shy, modest, innocent and reserved, they don't like grand gestures. Give them the impression that you are very hygienic and don't smoke or drink. Tell them you are a vegan or on a plant diet, they like people who eat nutritiously.

Libra Venus: Even if you are not pretty, put up a good image. Do a light makeup. Don't be aggressive, they like people who are calm and balanced. Your conduct is most important for them. Be polite and maintain proper etiquette. Don't use dark colors like red, orange.

Scorpio Venus: Never take your eye off them. Keep staring at their eyes. Talk as if you are telling them your personal secrets. Give them the impression that you are a complex person. Stir up some argument and make the situation tense. Yea they like intensity. Use intense red or black dresses.

Sagittarius Venus: Tell them you don't plan to marry, yeah they would like freedom and run away when you discuss about long term commitments. Tell them the exotic places you have visited. If possible, take a trip together. Show them photos from your foreign trips.

Capricorn Venus: You will probably not meet them on a dating scene, if you do then just show them your LinkedIn profile. Wear classical dresses (like you dress to the office) they like shirt, suit and pants. Discuss about how the stock markets have fallen in the last 6 months. Tell them you are planning to move to a bigger organization or you recently got a promotion.

Aquarius Venus: Don't meet them in person. They like online dating more than in person meetings. Tell them you are starting an online business on Instagram and that you need their marketing ideas. Give credit to their ideas and make them feel unique or like a genius.

Pisces Venus: Tell them you love music and play some nice romantic tunes when you are together. Don't talk much. Go to a movie with few people in the theatre. Tell them how you miss your ex still, they won't mind that (they will like that you still have feelings) and may even suggest you patch with your ex. Tell them how heartbroken you are. (yeah they fall in love with the wounded)

Post is just for entertainment, you should never buy love or fake it. Be yourself and you will meet the right one.

For Readings- DM

#astrology #astrology observations #venus in signs #venus in astrology #astrology community #astrology notes #astro notes #venus in houses #zodiac #zodiac signs #astrology signs #astro observations #vedic astrology

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deejadabbles · 9 months

Text

Five-Oh-Thirst (501st x Fem!Reader) Part One

Summary: One little comment sends the night spiraling into hilarious, shameless territory as the boys show you their best lap dances.

A.N. IDK, man, I just really want the 501st boys to be exotic dancers and I figured I'd share that! Please don't take this seriously, it's just for fun and debauchery <3 Also, I highly recommend listening to the songs I link as you read! Enhances the ~experience~

Word Count: 3,174

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), drinking, the boys being way too hot and thirsty for you, lap dances, and general debauchery

It all started with a little holo ad flickering in the corner of the drink menu.

You were with your boys, enjoying some shore leave celebrations at 79s, as was the tradition when returning to Coruscant, but one little comment sent the night spiraling into hilarious, shameless territory.

"Ooo, what's the chances that we'll still be on shore leave next week?" you had asked the table, and when Jesse asked why you waved the ad at him with a grin, "Because they're having a Thunder Star act here next week."

"A what?" Echo squinted at the picture, then let his eyes go wide at the shot of a topless, ab-bearing twi'lek.

"Thunder Star, they're a popular company of exotic male dancers. Looks like 79s’ trying something new."

" 'Exotic male dancers'?" Hardcase smirked, "You mean strippers."

You shrugged, "I prefer to give the profession a little more dignity than that, but, yes."

Fives' glass thudded against the table as he set it down, then snatched the menu out of your hand, "Whoever owns this place is throwing away their money," he leaned back with a smug grin, "I mean, who'd need to hire male dancers when aaaallll this is right here already?" he crooned, running his hands up and down his chest.

That earned a round of laughter.

"What?" he demanded, "It's true! We'd make better entertainment than these clowns."

Jesse was still laughing as he said, "Maybe we should ask the bartender to hire us instead."

"We'd need a group name for that," Kix chimed in, smiling into his drink, "and I don't think the General would approve of a stripper group calling themselves the Five-Oh-First."

"Oh! Oh!" you waved your hand excitedly, "You could call yourselves the Five-Oh-Thirst!"

An even louder roar of laughter at that, Jesse and Hardcase even thudding their fists on the table.

"Perfect!" Hardcase elbowed a chuckling Echo in the side, "Echo, quick, write that down!"

"Although..." you hummed, tapping your chin. It was always so easy to tease the boys, and you took every chance you could. "You guys need a lot more than a clever name to compete with Thunder Star."

"Oh yeah?" Fives leaned in over the table to give you his attention, "Like what?"

You pointed the fruit garnish of your drink at him for emphasis, "Talent." After popping the fruit into your mouth, realizing the rest of them were grinning and leaning in as well, you went on. "Dancing like that takes skill, boys. You can't just shake your ass a little and call it a day."

"That sounds like a challenge, sweetheart," Fives all but purred.

The fruit caught in your throat, "Wh-what?" you coughed.

His smile was wide as he scooted out of the booth, "I'll give you a show you won't forget," he answered with a wink.

The others began whistling and catcalling as he sauntered over to your end of the crescent-shaped booth. Your face was instantly hot at the way he was locking eyes with you, especially when he motioned for you to turn to the end of the seat.

"Come on, mesh'la" he urged, "I need a lap if I'm gonna give you a lap dance."

Beside you, Hardcase was egging Fives on and you heard Jesse say something about music as he grabbed Echo's datapad that had been sitting on the table. Finally, you were over the shock of what was happening and, maybe it was the alcohol buzzing through your body, but some flirtatious confidence rose up in your chest.

You turned to Fives fully, and patted your lap, "Alright, do your worst."

With that, the datapad speakers started blaring music which made Fives clap his hands, "Perfect! Oh, sweetheart, you're in for a treat."

He started the dance by trailing his hands down his chest again, slow this time, keeping his eyes locked on yours. Then he was on you. He framed your knees with his, hovering over your thighs as he started rolling his hips side to side.

Those hands moved over said hips, until they rested on his thighs, drawing your attention just where he wanted. That's when he bent his knees, placing his ass on your lap just as he started moving his hips back and forth.

His smug grin was wide as he mouthed the lyrics of the song, now tucking those hands behind his head and bouncing his chest to the beat of the music. The motion made you jolt despite yourself, and you had to resist the urge to grind up into his tempting ass.

Fives obviously noticed the way you gulped at the sight of him, because his tongue darted out to lick his lips. It was all you could do to suppress a gasp, especially when he shifted his stance, moving back to slot his leg between yours.

With his eyes on yours, he leaned in close, breath hot on your ear as he said, “Damn, mesh’la,” then, again in time with the lyrics, “the things I would do to you.”

You did gasp that time, and he nipped your ear as his reward, before spreading your legs with his. The others were whistling and cheering as he put his hand on your thighs and sank to his knees. Again he made a show of licking his lips as he raked his eyes over you, admiring, and not hiding any of his dirty thoughts. And of course, as he got back to his feet, he flashed you another wink.

Then, with grace you weren’t expecting from an ARC trooper, he hopped onto the booth seat, planting his feet on either side of you so you had the perfect view of his codpiece as he gyrated his hips to the beat.

The others went crazy at that, shouting and banging their glasses all while Fives thrust dangerously close to your flushed face. His fingers came down to stroke your hair and, for just a moment, you thought he would pull you against him, but he only teased the vulgar act as he ground his crotch closer and closer to you.

Fives didn’t stay there long, though, instead, he hopped back down to the ground, grabbed your hand, and hoisted you up.

A delighted squeal left you as he lifted you into those strong arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. He spun you around, this time actually singing the song all while bouncing you up and down with the rolling motions of his hips.

At the table, the boys sang along too, treating ‘Ride it, my pony!’ like a battle cry as Fives enjoyed the feeling of you against him. You were breathless from your hysterical giggles while he danced, and trying to ignore how much heat was traveling south with every thrust against your body.

Fives swayed you back towards the booth and, with your legs still clamped around his hips, he laid you on the table, somehow avoiding everyone’s drinks as the song finished its last repetitive set of lyrics.

Everyone was clapping and cheering as you covered your hot face with your hands, lungs pleading for air since you were still breathless from laughter. Fives was laughing too, just basking in the playful air as he put his hands on either side of your head to brace himself.

“So, convinced, mesh’la?” he chuckled.

When all you did was continue to hide behind your hands, someone reached out and tugged lightly on your wrist, “Oh come on, sweetheart, don’t be shy now!”

Somehow, you managed to take a few gasping breaths into your chest and peek out at him between your fingers, “Okay, maybe you could make it as a professional.”

Fives and several others roared with laughter, “Maybe? After all that, I just get a maybe? You’re breaking my heart, cyare!”

“Well obviously,” said another voice, Kix, as he stepped up and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder to pull him away. Something was gleaming in his eyes as he looked between you two. “You didn’t listen, Fives, she already said you have to do more than shake your ass and grind.”

Intrigued, Fives stepped back, letting your legs fall from him as Kix stepped in front of you instead. He winked, eyes never leaving yours when he reached out and took your hand.

“You have to seduce the woman you’re giving attention to, brother,” he purred.

A chorus of “Oooooos” rose from the booth as Kix pulled you gently up from the table, still eyeing you as he took a few steps back. He must have set his plan into motion before he challenged Fives, because there was now a lone chair pulled up.

That’s when Kix pulled you closer, lips actually daring to hover near yours as he whispered, “Take a seat, gorgeous.”

Well, any air you had managed to pull in before was swiftly gone again. You were glad he was asking you to sit since you suddenly felt very weak in the knees. Kix stood before you, eyes half-lidded as he looked down, gaze sweeping over your lips before he gave a quick nod to Jesse.

Again, Kix must have had a whole plan, because Jesse pressed play on a new song, and you knew you were in for something very different.

Kix didn’t jump in head first, instead, he started slow. His eyes ran up and down your body as he moved a thumb over his lips, teasing, thinking. Then, when your own gaze started to wander down his body, he took that same hand and tapped your chin.

“Eyes on mine, mesh’la.”

And when you obeyed, finally, he touched you. Starting by brushing his knuckles across your cheek as the sensual song played on. Then a finger trailed down your neck, giving just the briefest of attention to your chest before venturing down your arm.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, reverently, as he took your hand again. This time, he placed it just above his belt, laying your palm flat against his toned, hard stomach. “It’s okay, you can touch me all you want, cyare.”

With that and his gentle hold on your wrist, he moved your hand up, letting you feel every bit of his muscular chest under his blacks. All while keeping his bedroom eyes on yours. He didn’t stop at his chest, though, and kept guiding your touch to run across his throat, until he finally cupped your hand over his cheek.

Only then did he break eye contact, just so his eyelids could flutter closed as he leaned into your touch. Your chest was so warm at such a simple act, the look on Kix’s face one of pure adoration, as if your hand on his skin was all he needed.

Then his lips kissed your palm and he finally released your hand as the song’s beat picked up. That’s when he got on his knees before you. Kix places his hands on your thighs, letting out an admiring hum as he gave them a gentle, almost possessive squeeze. He was determined to spread them open too, but, like everything else, he took his time instead of coming in hot.

His hands crept upwards and as they did, very, very subtly, he pushed your legs apart. When his fingers were just on the precipice of your core, his eyes snapped back to yours.

That’s when he pounced. Kix hooked his arms under your knees as he stood, leaving you to slide down the chair into a very vulnerable and exposed position, your ass pressing into his pelvis. He smiled down at you while shrugging your legs onto his shoulders for more comfort, all knowing and smug just like his brother.

Kix stayed with the music, though, and when he took advantage of the suggestive position, it wasn’t Fives’ fast, enthusiastic trusting. The medic rolled his whole body into the motion, slow, deliberate, and letting his action sink into you as his hips met yours. His thrusts were deep and he only pulled back for another one when the beat allowed for it.

Somewhere, probably in another life where Kix wasn’t gazing at you like a goddess, someone said, “Why does this feel even dirtier than Fives’ dance-?”

“Shhh!”

The man holding you didn’t seem to notice or care about the commentary, he only had eyes for you, even as he gave one finally suggestive push of his hips, before letting your legs touch the ground again. Then he slid his arms around you and lifted you back into a proper seated position on the chair.

Of course, he just used this position to his advantage too and caged you by gripping the back of the chair with his hands. That’s when he settled on your lap, silently urging you to keep your eyes on him again and get lost in the feeling of his body on yours. He moved in steady, circling motions, always making sure you felt the brief touch of something hard at the height of every rotation.

Then the song hit its ending pitch and Kix used his grip on the chair to pull himself forward, pressing his chest flush against yours. He lingered there, breath fanning your skin and his lips hovered tantalizingly over yours. Said lips whispered the song’s iconic line just before he closed that small distance and-

And kissed your cheek instead of your mouth.

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t have stopped the whine that left you. It earned you a chuckle from him and his lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “So, what do you say, cyare? Are you seduced?”

All you could manage was a small nod and, though it was very unlikely that heard what Kix asked, Fives let out an annoyed, “Seriously?”

To please them both you let out a shaky praise, “Both of you could definitely give the professionals a run for their money.”

Everyone seemed pleased at that. Kix finally leaned back, getting up from your lap and offering to help you up like a gentleman.

Or at least, he would have, if Jesse hadn’t jumped up then.

“Oh no, baby, you stay right there. Fives and Kix can’t have all the fun. I think it’s only fair that all of us get to show off our potential.”

Hardcase, Tup, and Echo all cheered at that, and when Jesse started climbing out of the booth, they drummed their hands on the table like the music for a grand entrance. Kix gave you one final wink before making room for Jesse, who only wasted time in doubling back to the table for a moment.

“Hold on, need props for this one!” and he plucked the cherry garnish from Echo’s drink. Echo gave an indignant look as Jesse turned to you again and jabbed a finger at Hardcase, “Hit it!”

Again a beat poured out of the speakers and Jesse wasted no time. His hips instantly started jolting to the music as he put the skewer of fruit between his teeth. When Jesse moved his body it was hard and fast, constantly in motion just as the song demanded. He definitely had some moves and used the bouncing thrusts to push himself closer to where you were seated.

Like most of his brothers, he had forgone the top half of his armor that night, leaving his chest covered in nothing but his blacks. Keeping just an arm’s length away from you, Jesse started rubbing his hands down his sides, until he got to the hem of his shirt. Then, he pulled the fabric out from his belt and lifted it, revealing his well-toned muscles to your wide eyes.

Your greedy eyes pleased him and pulled the garnish from his teeth, “Like what you see, baby?”

He didn’t stop there, of course. Making sure it caught your eye, he trailed the cherry down his chest until it met bare skin. Juice from the fruit collected in the dips of Jesse’s abs as he rubbed it across his stomach. It was your turn to lick your lips, which pleased him even more.

“Come here, mesh’la, I’ll let you have a taste-”

“What the hells is going on up here?!”

The unfamiliar voice had all of you snapping out of whatever debaucherous bubble you had built around yourselves. Somehow, in the midst of all this, no one really seemed to care that you were all still in a corner booth on 79’s second floor.

Well, the manager cared, and he was standing there looking over the scene (you, disheveled in a chair, and Jesse rubbing fruit over his abs) with absolute disgust on his face.

“What? We’re having fun, what’s it to you?” Jesse snapped, clearly annoyed that his shot with you was being interrupted.

“Fun!?” the manager mocked in horror, “Son, this is a bar, not a strip club! Not to mention the racket all of you were making,” he cast a glare at the booth, “out! All of you, get out!”

Hardcase jumped from his seat, “Hold on a damn minute!”

“OUT!” the manager seethed, “And just be thankful I’m just throwing you out tonight and not banning all of Torrent Company!”

Knowing that they would listen if you stepped in, you got up from your seat and took Jesse’s hand, “Come on, boys, we don’t want to be any trouble, right?”

Jesse and Hardcase were still narrowing their eyes at the other man, but, catching your look, they softened. When Tup, Fives, and Echo started gathering their things from the table at your pleading eyes, they finally mumbled their agreements.

Thankfully, the manager didn’t feel the need to continue his berating comments as everyone filed out the door. But, of course, because these were your boys we’re talking about, the moment they were outside, the loud cursing and complaining started.

“This is bantha shit!”

“Buzzkill!”

“No fun!”

“Had the perfect song for my dance!”

You laughed at their array of comments, especially when Hardcase flung his arms around you and clung to you as everyone started walking. “Come on, boys, it’s not that bad! Listen, I say we get some booze from the corner store up the way, and we can make as much of a racket as we want back at my place.”

The words didn’t strike you as anything suggestive. The boys had drunk at your apartment plenty of times before, but, given the context, it was no surprise that some of them exchanged looks.

“I’m in,” Echo said, the corner of his lips lifting as he caught Fives’ eye.

Tup, who was walking backwards in front of you, flashed that toothy smile of his, “Sounds like a perfect night to me.” That’s when he reached up and pulled his hair loose from his top knot. “And back at your place, gives the rest of us a chance to really show you our moves.” He winked at his curls came cascading down.

Hardcase tightened his grip on you, “Oh, kriff yeah!”

Well, looks like the night was just getting started.

I want to give my sincere apologies to all the Jesse Girls, plz don't strangle me for cock blocking you lol

taglist: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5

#501st x reader #fives x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #kix x reader #clone medic kix x reader #jesse x reader #arc trooper jesse x reader #tcw jesse x reader #deeja writes #spicy lemons #sort of #reverse clone harem

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seat-safety-switch · 5 months

Text

It's weird to think of the cars of your youth being exported elsewhere. In Japan, there is a strong and confident subculture dedicated to taking classic American cars and driving them around their compact megacities. It's not a stretch to say that there are more pristine-condition GMC Astros in that tiny island nation than there are in the land of its birth.

What kind of relationship do they have to a vehicle that they never got to see new? One that they never sat in as a child at the yearly auto show? As we play with their Skylines, they enjoy the comfort of our Trailblazers. It is hard to understand the appeal, but it is certainly a "grass is greener" situation. Maybe they just think an unreliable car is a strange and entertaining novelty? Hey look, I've never seen a car with bad grounds before, they say to each other, and invite their mechanic buddies over, who also remark on the amount of casting flash left over on the coolant bottle. You can make an injection mould with a seam that sloppy?

Certainly, I can't speak to the Japanese mindset on these vehicles. I could ask someone who actually lives there, but it sounds like I might accidentally embarrass myself, or give the whole game away by inadvertently telling them that the Pontiac Sunfire actually sucks out loud. And I'd be lying to say that I don't enjoy a little bit of the mystery surrounding the shitboxes that they've given up on and exported into my country. What's that weird robot voice talking about whenever I turn the car on? Nobody can tell, but it sure sounds cool, and cool is what cars are about. Knowing things is what another, lesser, hobby is about. Maybe chess, or performing CPR on strangers for the adrenaline rush. Not this one.

Maybe it doesn't matter. We have what we enjoy, and they have what they enjoy. Europeans? I'm sure they have cars too, and some of them seem very exotic, but none of them are showing up on a roll-on/roll-off ferry in huge numbers at the local port. And their manuals are in a language I can actually read, which is a huge turn-off. If I can read them, then I might know something about them. See previous complaint.

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captain-mj · 5 months

Note

Hiii i wanted to ask If you want to make a Part 3 to the Alien Thing (SoapGhostRoach)

maybe Roach or Soap find out that Ghost is in his mateing phase and want to see what that does to him?

Or maybe Roach still needs more infos so He takes... a closer look at Soap and Ghost?

Yeah I can write another part for it

Part 1 Part 2

Soap had been thinking recently. On his planet, interspecies relationships (from his own planet, not others) were fine as long as they weren't serious. His planet was an anomaly in that no predator species really thrived so most species looked a lot like him with only very small differences. None had managed to get sentience at the very least. It was part of what made his new... partners so exotic he supposed. Nothing like it from where he was from.

Sex was treated differently as well. It was common to have casual sex since interbreeding was impossible. He had long since understood that with Roach, monogamy was more serious. Though harems occasionally existed throughout their history, it did not seem the natural state of them, as they paired up more often than not. There were so many rules to their courting. Dates, something called third base and also asking permission from your partner's family. It was all so strange.

Then there was also a matter of Ghost. His species also used to have harems, though they never quite left it.

The part that Soap had been entertained by was that it was not based on sex or gender. Or even species. They had been building harems of their own species for years before they started going out and exploring the universe. Soap had been surprised when Ghost had been so insistent about their rules around consent. Anyone else, he may have assumed it was naivety, but with Ghost? He believed him. To take away one's choice was an act punished by the worst thing they could due to each other.

Tear the criminal to shreds publicly.

Ghost had proudly told them he had been a part of some of those trials and Roach and Soap had almost started salivating.

Today, Soap and Roach were anxious. Something had happened. Something never before seen or heard of.

Ghost took vacation time.

It wasn't much, just three days, but it wasn't even while they were on a planet!! They were just on ship!

Roach had never seen Ghost take off work. Most people refused to take work off while the ship was moving anyway because there was usually next to nothing to do for long periods of time, so this was extra strange.

Soap hummed. "Maybe we should bring him something? He has to be sick if he's taking off, does his species have an equivalent to salad?"

Roach thought it was very fun Soap would consider salad a food for sick people, but decided he could ask more about that later. "Humans do soup. Would his version be something with raw meat? Seems the best for him."

They put their brain cells together and brought him a steak. Was it unoriginal? yes, but sick people don't need fancy stuff.

Roach went in to his chambers first, one of the few people to have a master key. He went to announce his presence, Soap close behind, but both quickly shut up.

Ghost held the pillow tight over his face. There was no way he could breath easily based on the death grip he had on it. His other hand was furiously jacking off.

It was the most vocal either had seen him. He whimpered and whined and barked just loud enough to get it through the pillow.

"You called off work to jerk off?" Soap joked, though he was now bright red.

Ghost sluggishly reacted to them. He moved the pillow. Beautiful maskless face on display. There was a layer of exhaustion to him that was abnormal. "Fuck off. I was finally fucking close." He sounded miserable, head thrown back. His hand stopped though and he rolled his wrist to get the soreness out.

Roach swallowed, feeling a tiny bit out of his depth. "You okay?"

"Mating season." Ghost hissed at them, tail thrashing angrily. "Please, neither of you are going to want to be around me for the next two days so just get lost." He finally got the idea to cover his body up.

His hand started up again and it was clear the way he was doing it, this had been going on a while and his frustration was mounting.

Roach and Soap exchanged glances. Actually making eye contact.

Soap nodded at the door and Roach locked it. He turned around to see Soap slowly joining Ghost, taking the pillow from his face. Ghost looked at him, groaning.

"Please don't torture me, Johnny." His voice was barely above a growl now. He couldn't imagine the amount of strength to simply put the words together.

Soap put his hands on Ghost's shoulder. "Don't worry, Simon. Just want to help you out."

No sooner had he gotten the words out did Ghost flip them over. He fucked between Soap's thighs, pressing them both tight into the mattress until it was hard for Soap to breath.

Ghost rutted between his thighs until he finally, finally came. He groaned with pleasure and kissed Soap breathless. "Thank you, thank you, fucking hell. I'll do anything just keep letting me do this." His hips only stuttered before continuing.

Roach hummed. "Ghost. You told me that your mating season had minimal effect on you. I would say this is not minimal effect."

Ghost groaned. "It's hitting a bit hard this year, I'll admit."

Soap purred. "Can't say I mind. I have some time I can put in. If you need to be coddled."

Ghost growled but Soap squeezed his thighs and quickly shut him up. He rested his head on Soap. "I do..."

"You do what?"

"...need to be coddled. I thought I'd be fine but please, I need help." He sounded so sad and miserable.

Roach gently ran his fingers through his hair. "You should've said something. We could've helped you." He glanced at Soap's face. "Happily."

Ghost whined. "It's improper. I'm rutting against you like a fucking..." He buried his face in Soap's neck.

Roach hummed. "Continue. Please. I have notes to..."

Ghost groaned. "Gary... please... Can you just pretend you like me? No fucking experiments."

Roach paused. He almost said something, though he wasn't sure what words he could possibly string together. Maybe an apology? He never intended to make Ghost feel that way! Though maybe he should've realized sooner.

But before he could get it out, Soap was turning Ghost of him. "Hey now. You poor thing. What gave you that idea?"

Ghost huffed and his tail lashed. "You two are quite a bit more compatible than I am..." He yanked Soap up and buried his face in his chest. "I'm not like either of you guys."

Roach quickly joined him and kissed Ghost's face all over. "Oh, love. I'm so sorry."

They quickly managed to pin Ghost down and Roach kissed him gently. "I have some vacation time. We'll all put it in. Promise. I think I have some things i need to make up to you."

Ghost relaxed and nodded, panting. "Please..."

They took turns stepping away to inform their respective bosses. Neither wanted Ghost to be alone too long. Roach pushed Ghost so he was laying down and he started to ride him, cupping Ghost's face and smiling at him. He maintained eye contact and if he thought Ghost was gone before, it was nothing compared to now. His pupils expanded until they almost took up the color.

"Course I love you, Simon. Thought you knew that." Roach ground down and Ghost growled, yanking him closer.

"You guys aren't going to be able to walk for the next week."

"I look forward to it."

#Johnny “Soap” Mactavish #Simon “Ghost” Riley #Gary Roach Sanderson #Soap Cod #Ghost COD #Soapghost #Ghostsoap #Soap x Ghost #Ghost x Soap #Macriley #Call of Duty #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare 2 #ghost x roach #roach x ghost #roach x soap #soap x roach #ghost x soap x roach

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miasmaghoul · 10 months

Note

Hello if your doing writing I was wondering dewdrop and mountain in the greenhouse don't answer if you don't want to

It's one of Dew's favorite places, and not just because it's where the weed lives.

It was a place he felt called to as a water ghoul, especially in the winter. Too cold to risk the lake, but the greenhouse carried similar comfort. Humid and filled with life, Dew would sneak in whenever the opportunity presented itself. Pebble was their head earth ghoul when Dew was summoned, and he didn't like anyone messing with his plants. Dew had to be quiet and subtle, had to slip in undetected and hide behind a pallet of exotic ferns and soak in the atmosphere.

That changed when Mountain took over. He was more than happy to entertain others, often making all of them lunch and inviting the whole pack to the greenhouse to eat. Dew took to Mountain quickly, joining him most mornings to water the plants both in and out of the greenhouse. If those outings tended to end in stoned makeouts and heavy petting, it was surely just a coincidence.

After his transition, Dew thought the joy he gleaned from the greenhouse would vanish. His yearning for the lake certianly had, so it only made sense that he'd stop wanting to visit that big glass box too. Surprisingly, though, it hadn't. Hadn't even dimmed. As soon as he was recovered enough to be out on the grounds again, it was the first place he went. It was a chilly October morning, and the burst of warm, damp air that greeted him there had been distinctly comforting. The scent of fresh earth and exotic flora flooded his nose, made him dizzy, but in a pleasant way. Something wasn't quite right though. Something was missing.

Then Mountain had rounded the corner, clad in his silly old apron - pale blue and covered in cartoon daisies - toting a stack of terracotta pots. He'd smiled, broad and bright, and Dew's stomach had done a funny little flip.

Okay, maybe it wasn't just the greenhouse he enjoyed.

Since then, some things have changed. Rain came to be, for one. A new water ghoul for a new era of leadership. He was drawn to the same places Dew used to be, and moreso to Mountain. Their connection was as palpable as Dew's with Aether; while they were all a pack, Dew couldn't help the rusty growl that had bubbled up in his throat when he'd found them in the greenhouse for the first time. Couldn't help the way he stormed off with a faint stinging feeling at the backs of his eyes.

Mountain was having none of it. He'd found Dew soon after, smoking in the chapel. Had sat next to him, far enough not to touch, and told Dew in no uncertain terms that Rain's presence changed nothing. That Dew would always be welcome, and an important part of his routine. Dew had mumbled something about Rain being more useful, and Mountain had rested a gentle hand on his arm. Had assured him that anyone can hold a watering can.

Dew hadn't known how to express that it wasn't the greenhouse work he was worried about. It was Mountain. Dew had already experienced so much change, so much loss, he couldn't stand the thought of losing what he had with Mountain too. He couldn't get the words out, but Mountain seemed to know anyway. He'd taken Dew's chin in his hand, looked into his shining copper eyes, and had kissed him with such tenderness that Dew hadn't known what to do with himself. An unspoken promise that Mountain would always have time and space for him.

Dew thinks of that kiss often, especially during moments like this.

On his back, naked and watching the stars through the glass ceiling. High as a kite and utterly blissed out, his body spent and his mind fuzzy. At his side, Mountain snores softly. He's curled against Dew's side, head on his chest and his tail flicking every now and again. He always falls asleep quickly after these romps, and Dew doesn't mind it a bit. Dew drags idle claws over the other ghoul's shoulder, purring deep in his chest. His other hand rests between his legs, feeling where Mountain left him sticky and open, and his purr ratchets up a notch.

The sound rouses Mountain, who chuffs and presses sloppy kisses to Dew's chest. He brings a large hand from where it was resting on Dew's thigh and presses it over Dew's hand, wringing a dull groan from the both of them.

"Need it again already, firecracker?"

Dew hisses when Mountain brushes over his abused hole, but he can't deny the frission of excitement that slithers down his spine.

"Soon," he breathes, nuzzling Mountain's hair and inhaling the herbal, sweaty scent of him. Mountain presses the very tip of a finger inside and Dew's eyes slip shut as he clenches around it. "Can we?"

Mountain pulls back to look at him, eyes red rimmed and glassy, and they smile at one another. Mountain catches him in a deep, languid kiss as he works that finger deeper inside, and Dew sucks at his tongue in return. Mountain breaks the kiss and rests their foreheads together, rubbing noses in a show of sweet, stoned affection.

"Of course," he rumbles, "whatever you want."

"One more," Dew slurs, rolling his hips. "Just one more."

They both know one more is never enough.

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #sort of #also sort of headcanons #rated m for smutty activities and a smidgen of angst #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #mountain/dew #mountain x dew

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lostelfwriting · 1 year

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Dreamling Circus AU

[CW animal death (rabbit), violence (humans)]

So, Hob is broke, homeless, and will do anything for some food and shelter. He takes a job at the Burgess Circus that no-one else will work at because Burgess is an asshole and old fool and perv and everything bad that people can come up with. Hob doesn't like the man but he's desperate for a job so he sucks it up and applies.

Hob can throw knives. Quite well, but not good enough to make it to the show. He can throw knives outside and entertain people before it is showtime. But his main job is to care for the animals and... beasts.

So, logically, there aren't any real beasts, right? Right...? They are all just exotic animals, animals that were born with some mutations, or even mutilated animals that he can only feel sorry for. Same goes for most of the strange people that are a part of the circus. A woman with an unusual amount of body hair, who is NOT a werewolf. A muscular man, who is NOT a demigod, just really strong. So, logically, the vampire also has to be fake, right?

Except at the end of the day, while everyone sleeps in their huts, the "vampire" remains in a cage. Nobody dares to even come close unless they absolutely have to, but Hob is told to toss a small animal in the cage. He is not sure how he feels about it. He leaves that cage for the last, preferring to feed the tigers before approaching the strange, naked man in a cage. And when the night is dark and everyone is asleep and Hob is sore and tired from all the work, he carefully brings a bowl of soup to the cage.

The black-haired man merely looks at it with disgust and then continues to stare into emptiness. There is an air of pride around him, even though he is naked, humiliated at daily basis, locked up in a cage. “Would you really prefer to eat a live rabbit over soup?” Hob asks incredulously. He gets no reply, but the "vampire" looks at him again. His eyes are black, but it must be from the dim light around them.

“Serve yourself, then,” Hob shrugs and opens a small cage full of rabbits, taking an unlucky or lucky one out and tossing it in the cage with the man. He expects the rabbit to land on its feet and run. They are fast motherfuckers and Hob will surely never see it again. Well, half of that is true.

The rabbit never lands, as the "vampire" (he can't be a real vampire, right?) lunges, almost faster than light, and catches it, burying his fangs in the squealing animal and silencing it forever. Hob takes several steps back but doesn't run. He watches on in fascination.

The black-haired man licks his hands clean when he is done with the animal. He ignores the filth - loose fur and some straws - on his hands, just licks and sucks his skin until he's consumed every single drop of blood. When he is done, he looks at Hob, but he still doesn't look like a wild beast. He looks pleading, hungry, helpless. If he were a vampire, theoretically speaking, one rabbit probably wouldn't be enough, Hob reasons as he tosses another one into the cage before turning his back to leave before he could do anything more stupid.

The next day, Hob confronts Burgess. The Magus keeps insisting that everything in his Circus is real, even the werewolf and demigod and dragon and all that bullshit. Hob can't get him to admit to anything, but he notices that Burgess calls the vampire "it" while everyone else gets to be treated like human. “Don't worry, it's not human,” Burgess assures Hob. “Just do your job or leave.”

Hob has a minor moral crisis. If he leaves, he will be hungry, homeless, and the winter is coming and he won't find another job at this time of the year. But if he stays, he will have to be witness to the inhuman treatment the "vampire" is getting. It's certain death or basically allowing slavery.

He allows himself to contemplate for another few days, often stopping by the vampire's cage. He never speaks, but he always looks up at Hob with hope. There is not always enough extra "food" that Hob can give the man, but he tries to make it up to him in other ways. By seeing him, by acknowledging him.

Finally, Hob snaps (there was no other way it could go, was it?) and opens the cage. He has to steal the key from Burgess’ neck chain, but fortunately, he is a bit of a thief. He naively expects gratitude when he opens the door, but instead, he gets tackled to the ground, head yanked to the side and fangs in his neck. He makes no sound and tries to make peace with his deities, thinking that at least one of them will get to roam free and hungerless.

But the vampire doesn't kill Hob. He drinks for a while, his whole body warming as he does, and then he reluctantly pulls away, kissing the spot that he almost mutilated in silent apology. “Stay down,” he says quietly, and his voice is much deeper than Hob expected. Pleasant to listen to for sure. And not that Hob has any other option but to liten.

Several minutes later, the whole Circus is on fire. There was a brief moment of screaming, but those screams didn't last longer than seconds. Now it's just animals roaring and howling as they run free, and flames consuming all buildings. Hob finally realises that he should get up and save himself when a wooden hut collapses next to him. He is dizzy but manages to stand, but he only makes a few steps before he is stumbling to the ground again.

Strong arms wrap around him and lift him up without effort. It is the vampire, now wearing a black robe, face and neck covered in blood. Hob stares in awe and fascination as the mythical creature carries him away from the danger.

“I may have taken more than I should have,” the vampire says sheepishly as he helps Hob stand on unsteady legs, the circus burning in the distance, nobody screaming or calling for help because they are all dead.

“I can give it back,” the vampire suggests, and it takes Hob's fuzzy mind embarrassingly long to understand what he means.

“No, thanks,” he grimaces, and the vampire snorts as if he had done something endearingly stupid.

“How can I repay you, then?”

Hob feels like he could ask for anything then. Power, eternal life, fortune. But hunger and losing it all had put his priorities in order. “I don't suppose you know of a job?” he asks with a laugh. “I'm recently once again unemployed.”

The vampire tilts his head, studying Hob. Hopefully, he doesn't read minds, Hob thinks. Finally, he says: “I have a long road ahead of me. A travel companion that knows these lands would be appreciated.”

#dreamling #circus au #vampire au #vampire dream #hob x dream #alternate universe #dream of the endless #hob gadling

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ririglow · 2 years

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mini skirt (m). joe burrow

pairings: joe burrow x reader

description: joe loves it whenever you wear your favorite skirt

warnings: smut, bathroom sex, yall know the deal,

Minors DNI!!! (STAY AWAY)

A/N: this is just a little something I wrote on a road trip to bypass time, hope yall enjoy :)

It was no secret that Joe loves you in anything. Your sense of style is one of the major things that caught his attention, your styling method depicts from your personality perfectly. The playful looks, edgy ensembles, and finally to his favorite which is a deliberately cutesy, feminine approach. Why? It's simple really, you know how to rock the hell out of a tennis skirt. Every time.

Usually he'd know how to easily contain himself, he does with almost every other clothing you sport, so why does he loses senses when you sway around in a skirt? Again, another simple answer, you look fucking hot. And you were wearing the favored peice of clothing, as you sat on your knees in front of the couch playing a video game with his two nephews. His parents invited you two over for a mini family gathering, it was a relatively nice day outside and his dad decided to put something on the grill. It was the perfect day for it. Joe was currently in the kitchen chatting it up with his brothers, however his attention was most certainly not on the meaningless conversation, from where he was standing he had a clear eye view of you obliviousto his occasional stare. The skirt compliments you well, thin, short and above all gives easy access to the heaven he's experienced multiple times that's between your thighs.

When he first seen you in it, his mind went into automatic mode, and he wanted to take you right then and there, but you two were already running late and he didn't want to make his parents wait any longer so he swallowed his pride and proceeded to suffer.

How long have you guys been here? He checked his watch. Thirty minutes.

That was definitely too early to leave.

He felt like a stalker as his eyes continued to move past his brother's head on to you, watching the skirt flare around your lustrous thighs teasing him and your face expressions weren't helping either with your hair being pulling back by a black hairband he couse see every facial movement, eyes furrowed and your bottom lip in between teeth due to the intensity of the game , it was simply exotic even though you weren't trying to be.

But thats the thing with you isn't it?, you don't have to necessarily do anything for him to be sprung over. It drove him crazy and yet has him absorbed. Now Joe was never the one to have sex anywhere else besides his own home, and most certainly he never entertain the idea of having it at his parents house, but the temptation grew every minute and technically he once lived here, in fact his bedroom was still intact so that must count for something right? Now he just need the perfect opportunity to pull you away.

"So what do you say Joe?" The voice of his brother interrupting his thoughts.

"Hm?" He said peeling his eyes away from you and one to his expectant brothers.

"Golfing this weekend, you wanna go?" His other brother asked, looking him amused.

"Yeah, I'm down." Joe nodded, trying to appear present. The sound of a phone ringing grabbed his attention, he flicked his eyes over at you again watching you pause the game causing his nephews to let out a sound of despair. You said something to them more likely telling them to resume the game as you took the call, getting up from your position from the floor you headed towards the kitchen.

"Hey Joe, anywhere I can take this?" You said after acknowledging his brothers with a polite smile.

Perfect opportunity.

"Either my old bedroom or the bathroom." He told you. "Who is it by the way?"

"My sister, probably wanting to talk about her wedding." You shrugged, before heading down the hall. Joe eyes trailed down to your backside loving the way your skirt swirl with every step you take.

He stood there talking with his brothers for a few more minutes, and in those minutes you had not come back giving him the perfect opportunity to seize his plan.

"I'm going to go check on y/n." He said smoothly as possible, looking at his brother's faces to see if they knew he was up to no good.

"Alright, I'm gonna go out and help dad with the grill I can hear mom yelling at him from all the way in here." His brother said, shaking his head.

The trio chuckled, before Joe sat his cup down and marched down the hall. He checked to see if you were in his bedroom, empty, bathroom it is then . He licked his lips as he knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" You asked, after hanging up the phone.

"It's Joe, I'm coming in." He answers back, feeling like the big horny wolf getting ready to tear your walls down. It's almost comical how needy you've managed to make him, all because of a goddamn skirt.

As soon as you opened the door he immediately slipped past the crack barging himself in, you looked at him in surprise wondering why the hell he seem in such of a hurry?

"If you wanted the bathroom Joe, you could've just said so." You said watching him shut the door, thinking he had to take a really bad piss by his hurried movement.

"I didn't come in here for that." He simply states.

Many new dirty thoughts entered his mind when you looked at him curiously, head tilted to the side as you eyed him, fingers fiddled with hems of your skirt. He almost groan outloud how tempting you look.

"Everything alright?" You said to him.

He responded with a simple nod, yes. However the tent, in his pants said otherwise. He strode forward positioning himself behind you, meeting his eyes in the mirror you could very much tell he was up to no good. Joe could hear you intake a breath when he pressed himself against you, leaning his chin down on your shoulder, you could feel him, it caught you by surprise. You knew earlier he was horny as hell, but thought he got over it. His large hand gripped your waist firmly, as he peppered tiny kisses on your cheek down to your neck.

"What are you doing?" You giggled nervously, you'd be damned if he encouraged you to have a quickie in the bathroom with just his family outside the door. This would be your third time ever coming to his parents house, and you didn't want it to be the last.

"You're driving me crazy, baby." He murmured by your ear as you squirm in his grasp.

"I'm not doing anything," You said with a confused tone not once did you intentionally tease him today, you tried to ignore him subtly grinding against your backside the thin fabric of your skirt made it easier for you to feel him.

"You don't have to," He his hand that was on your waist traveled down to your bare thigh, however before he could go any further you pushed it away. "Why are you pulling away?"

"Because there's no way, we're having se-" You started to say but was cut off by your own moan when Joe gently sucked on the side of your neck.

His hand went back to your thigh but instead of going any higher he settled for just caressing it. You would've told a total lie if you stated that you weren't turned on right now, the man that stood behind you could tell as well.

"You in this fucking skirt, is the problem." He sighed deeply, as if he was in complete distress—which he is due to his need to be inside you.

"Joe just wait until we get home." You whined out biting back a moan, when he pushed you up against the sink and slip his hand up your skirt.

"I can't baby, please let me have you." He mumbles placing kisses alongside your neck, his begging eyes met yours through the mirror.

The resistance you once had began crumbling down when you seen how desperate he was, and the feel of his fingers making hooking around the waistband of your underwear.

"Okay, hurry and no teasing." As soon as youbgave him the go, he was already pulling your panties to the side burying his fingers in your slit feeling the famaliar warmth.

He sighed out in blissfulness pleased at what he felt, feeling you deep, warm, and oh so wet. You clenched around his digits, sucking them inside. He motions his fingers in and out for while, earning a quiet moan from you, each time you were getting louder so much he reaches his free hand to cover your mouth.

"Shhh, you gotta keep quiet, okay?" He looks at you through the mirror, watching you nod your head in response.

Once he took his hand away his other hand that was buried deep in you pulled away as well, causing you to let out a small whimper missing the feeling already. You wanted him in you already, fiending for that ache whenever he does slip inside as you squeeze him further in.

Joe fiddles with the button of his jeans as you await in eagerness along with a sense of rush. The sound of his zipper were finally heard before you felt him place a hand in the middle of your back encouraging to lean forward against the sink restingyour forearms . Your eyes locked on him in mirror watching him bit his lip as he angles your hips right where he wants it. His eyes met yours, giving you a sly wink before playfully pinching one of your cheeks .

"Ow!" You hissed quietly, wiggling your hips. "What was that for?"

"Having me completely crazy about you." He said before pushing his tip between your puffy folds, his aching cock slowly pushes past your entrance. A gasp leave your lips from the intrusion, as he goes deeper and deeper until he was in to the hilt.

There was no denying how incredibly full he made you feel, his tip reaches your cervix every time especially in this position. Fitting together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces.

As much as he wants to relish at the feel of you, he also knows that you two are on limited amount of time before someone in his family start to wonder where the hell you were.

He gave you no time to adjust when he plunges in you,before a scream could escape you quickly bit down on your arm squeezing your eyes shut . Joe starts to go to town, hips rhythmically meet yours, gripping your hips tightly admiring the way your head toss wildly from his forceful thrusts. You looked intoxicating, standing before him bent over in your mini skirt as you fucked passionately. He took notice of your eyes being closed, and didn't like it not one bit, you need to see what he's been blessed with seeing, how alluring you were.

"Open your eyes, see how pretty you are—fuck." He grunts out, a struggled moan escapes your throat when you peeled your eyes open coming face to face with your reflection. A little smudge of mascara due to the small prickle of tears from holding back is underneath your eyes, as sheen of sweat glisten on your forehead. You looked completely hung up.

Immediately you shut your eyes not wanting to see what a mess you were, however Joe of course wasn't having any of that.

The quarterback mumbles a "nuh-uh" before gripping you up and holding you against his chest. His movements stopping completely causing you to snap your eyes back open, your expression contorts into a whine.

"Joey why'd you stop?" You complained, holding on to his forearms which circles around your mid section.

He met your eyes, placing his chin on your shoulder. "Say you're pretty."

"W-what?" You stuttered out, being taking off guard by his order.

"You heard me, say it." He said never once taking his eyes off you.

"I'm pretty." You said in whisper, feeling his cock throb inside you. His hips began to grind against yours causing the tip of his cock brush your g spot.

"Again." He mumbles in your neck, his thrust building back up.

"I'm pretty." This time you moaned it out, never once closing your eyes. A string of profanities came from Joe has goosebumps sent up on his skin at the sound of you praising yourself.

The knot in below you navel wounds up on the edge of exploding from pleasure, falling in dephs of blissfulness.

"I'm so pretty." You mindlessly whispered out in a hush, admiring yourself being handled perfectly by the man who you couldn't think to love any less.

Joe couldn't help but to pepper you with kisses, mumbling. "Hell yeah, you are."

He takes one hand and travels it underneath your skirt, to rub your clit with a possible haste beckoning your release. His sweet words were enough to send you over the brink, his hand quickly went to cover your mouth as you sobbed out a moan, your knees were threatening to give out only for you to be held up by Joe. Tears of pleasure drips down your cheeks, and on to his hand, not a second later after witnessing such a beautiful release from you, and with a couple more of sloppy thrust Joe reached his end spilling his warm seed deeply.

Slowly as he could he slips his softened cock out of you, in complete awe, no matter how many times you two have sex he would never get enough of the state of your fucked out state.

"All because of a skirt?" Your voice breathless,

Joe shrugged, hugging you tight. "You know how I get when where those things."

Just as you were about to respond a knock at the door cause you both to freeze in fear.

"Joe? Y/N? Are you guys in there right now!"

#joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fanfiction

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throwaway-yandere · 1 year

Text

Of Dream A-Dreaming (Yandere Idol!Itto/Reader)

The real a/n: dang, restricting myself to 1-1.5k words for this event is fricking difficult when I usually upload fics around 3k lolol. The urge to make this unnecessarily long looms above my shoulders and the crack fic ideas are piling up instead of yandere ones i need therapy fr—

Unreliable synopsis: You're the self-proclaimed "Numero Uno" idol's producer! He has his screw loose that's for sure, but hey, what makes him think you're not eccentric as well amiright???

Alice's note, Mother of Klee: Strange... Could've sworn you and Ayato would end up partnered together considering your similar "personalities". Oh, well. Producer Lumine thought it would be hilarious to see you take Itto on. This should still be entertaining. Let's see who's going to be the bigger menace between you two, snailnon!

Yandere Idol 1k event masterlist

-------

"Itto, what do we say when we want to go to the restroom?"

"P–... Please, (Y/n)?"

"Perfect! Ehehehehe, good boyyy!!!" You ruffled his hair roughly, which made him voice out complaints about his hair gel. "Now go take a dook-dook."

Itto sighed, his relief heard throughout the whole cafe. "Thank God! Thanks, granny snai–"

"Call me granny again and I'll whoop your a– I mean, kindness isn't the absence of mean thoughts but evil actions! Now go, be free!"

Itto rushed to the restroom, leaving you with a playful grin on your face.

The scent of caffeine fills the air, fueling the chatter inside the humble cafe. It had never been this buzzing. The tender space not once had more than five customers. For all it's worth, its owner probably never would've imagined a day where eight drop-dead gorgeous men would play baristas for three days in his place. Pairs of the regulars' taciturn eyes carefully eyed the idols' movements, gazing at the men like exotic animals behind glass. Their existence as regular customers made their presence reasonable, these eight celebrities with you, however, not so much.

ADDICKTZ has an "Of Drink A-Dreaming" barista event today, which was primarily led by Diluc and his producer. The idols were dressed in typical European barista fashion, with the exception of Ayato, Thoma, and Itto wearing sets of Kazagoshi respectively.

"(Y/n), where's Itto?"

You laughed. Unlike your colleagues, Diluc doesn't enjoy addressing you by your respected title. "I don't knooowww. Take a guess. Hehe."

Diluc's eyebrows knitted.

"You're his producer. The filming's about to start in five minutes." He stressed out sternly.

"I guess you have to film him in the bathroom then." You smiled, completely unbothered. "Cause, you know, he's there."

Normally, people would recommend a straight jacket for the deeply disturbed, but the founder of TEYVAT Productions said "I got just the thing for you!" before Producer Lumine gave you a contract to be Arataki Itto's producer for the next 5 years.

Yes, THAT Arataki Itto. The most troublesome member of ADDICKTZ and its best rapper. The guy who's supposedly a next-in-line monarch from a ruling family in a small village until he had a disagreement with his parents– but no one knows about that tea except you and Alice. You were going to decline this job but he... lacks critical thinking so much that you decided you must protect this high school dropout. Or at least make his life challenging. You're winning on either option, anyways.

You continued sipping your coffee. As a fellow cheapskate like the person you're producing, you're savoring every last drop of this fine brew, ignoring the free cake-like brownies on your table. You're much more laid back than normal because you're going on vacation tomorrow. Doesn't mean you're unaware of your own tendencies; if you don't care, you often won't put in the effort. And right now you genuinely don't care about what Itto's up to. Your succulents are genuinely the only thing you're determined to take good care of, and you already set an alarm as to when you're going to water them.

Diluc sighed. The poor idol slash Dawn Winery heir just couldn't put in the effort to scold you both anymore. "Fine. I'll give you ten minutes and that's final."

Eh, don't count on it. This is you and Itto, and together you're both a hindrance.

"Hehe. Gracias, compadre!"

That mesomorph couldn't possibly untie his apron without your help and you'd probably take five minutes trying to untangle it. It was considerably difficult getting Itto to wear his uniform, especially with his muscular build (but that's just because you made sure it's extra tight for the hell of it.) It goes without saying that Itto will always be by your side. If he wants to escape this girl scout's knotting nightmare, he'll need your help. Aww geez, what would he do without you?

"They sure get along quite well." The CEO's assistant muttered, their eyes staring directly at you. For someone who's supposed to be observing in secret, they sure aren't doing a decent job worth that paycheck. Not like having them here affects you. You'd still violate a few rules even if someone with authority is around.

"(Y/n)," Thoma sheepishly limped towards you, apologizing to the few empty chairs he bumped into. "C-Can you please help me tie my apron?"

"Heh, yup! Sure thing!!!"

Childe looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow from the other side of the room. "You're really going to ask for THEIR help?"

Thoma froze.

The Mondstadter had been hanging out with you a lot lately that he forgot you're not the most reliable person out there. Hard not to like him. Blondes are pretty cool. Men are cool, in general.

Your iconic grin is back in town.

"O-Oh, never mind! I'll just ask Ajax–"

"Naahhhh, you're here now!" You smiled, making grabby hand gestures. "C'mon, let me tie it for you~."

The poor blonde's smile was forced upward and twisted from too much pressure. He carefully handed you his apron with unfathomable reluctance–

But before you could take it, another hand yanked Thoma's away, prompting him to yelp. That hand was slightly damp, clear that it just came from the restroom.

Itto's grip tightened.

"Tie it yourself, Thoma."

Thoma gulped.

You couldn't see from this angle, but whatever Thoma saw, you had an inkling that it wasn't anything other people ought to see.

Zhongli tensed up. "Itto, that's enough–"

"YOU!!!"

Before anyone got another word out about Itto's strange outburst, another voice called out. You barely looked away.

You already know who it is.

"Why hello, Akira!" You greeted with clenched teeth.

One problem after another.

Most of Itto's fans are men. It's entertaining how they get hyped up whenever he's on stage. He's a role model when comes to exercise. You would know since you've once encountered an obsessed fan who gushed about how Itto's poster motivates him to do more push-ups and lunges and still insists he doesn't have a crush on Itto. His fans' muscles may be as strong as bricks but their heterosexuality weakens around him. As it damn should, honestly. You don't have any sports so listening to them talk was like watching a toddler show off their jumping skills.

That fan was funny, but Akira? Not by a long shot.

He was supposedly Itto's first stan. And stalkers are not funny.

"Why are you still his producer?!"

The CEO's assistant looked around, asking how the stalker got in under hushed whispers but to no avail. Your eyelids lowered.

You're going to have a serious talk with security later.

You shrugged with a small, innocent smile. "Cuz I'm an amazing person...?"

"No! Hell no!!!" Akira grumbled. "You're a psychopath! You're not a real fan, you're just doing this for the money!!!"

No shit, Sherlock. Don't be delusional. No one works for free.

You huffed.

"Sure, maybe I have problems using empathy sometimes, but take one good look at your situation and you'd realize that you're the one who looks like a psychopath right now."

Akira shut his mouth up immediately.

You looked at Dainsleif, who understood your signal.

You're pissed and you want Akira out.

Dainsleif nodded, grabbing Akira's shoulder.

You closed your eyes, drowning out the sound of Akira's loud complaints with your louder slurping. Knowing Dainsleif's skills, he would've peacefully kicked the stalker out of the building.

"You okay, bro?"

You opened your eyes again.

The stalker's gone, and Itto is sitting right in front of your table.

"Yeah, of course, I am."

Itto smiled. Don't be fooled, he was wholly aware that you're angry– you have the tendency to repress your anger and he knows you're harboring some spite.

"You know what will get him to stop?" He grinned, snapping his fingers like he was the smartest person in the room (he's not.)

"A good beating."

You chuckled, your voice mixed with concern and intrigue. "What? No. I'm a nice person. I ain't letting ya."

"Are you nice or are you just my producer? Anyways, yeah, but what if, I like, challenge him in a dance competition?"

You looked at him laconically.

That must be…

"The stupidest idea I have ever heard." You patted his back. Hard. Itto spat his drink, the brown liquid spilling to his chin like baby food. "I LOVE it. Go kick his ass."

Ain't no way you're passing up a chance to enable his family-friendly bullshit.

Ahh, you love life. It’s things like this that makes life worth living, because despite how empty you may feel at the end of the day, you at least know that you were a piece of something great.

A piece that caused Arataki “Numero Uno” Itto challenge a stalker fan into an impromptu dance competition.

Itto raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were gonna stop me."

"Well, you know how my mind works. If it is funny, then you should probably do it. Unless you, or someone else, get hurt. 'Cuz then it's a lot less funny…"

But then you remembered there was this one time you convinced Itto that "STFU" means "so thankful for you" and he sent that shit to his grandmother. Who then whooped his ass. With a wooden spoon. In front of CEO Alhaitham.

Oh, this poor summer country boy.

A strange chortle-like noise exited your lips.

"Wh-what is it?"

"Ohh, nothiiing." You patted his head, this time, you didn't ruffle his hair. "Hmm... I'll give you permission to challenge him in this dance competition thingy, but it better be AFTER the event, mkayyy?"

"Hmm! You got it, boss!"

-----

So, that was a fucking lie.

"YOU WANT TO GO, HUH?!"

"I DON'T CARE IF YOU BEAT ME UP– THEY'RE NOT WORTH IT, BOSS!!!"

You just got back from buying some pins at the convenience store to secure Itto's apron, and this is the thanks you'll get? You pinched your temple, sighing with an eerily large smile.

This doesn't look like a dance competition.

As Itto grabs Akira by the collar, the crowd that had formed around them just stood and stared. It's a good thing that phones are prohibited. Kaeya was close by, but he doesn't seem motivated to dissuade his unit mate either. Annoyingly, you got a glance from the man that said "find a way to stop him."

Hah! Like that's easy– Wait.

Out of the blue, you recalled a vital memory.

A week after you started working for Itto, you found him losing his shit over a deranged fan who insulted his best friend, Kuki. You'll never forget the way he bent his knees, ready to pounce until the show was abruptly interrupted by ADDICKTZ's Creative Director, who hurled a cup of soybeans in his way. You received some more beans from Sir Zandik, who advised you to take similar action should the need arise... but you already ate them months ago.

How troublesome, but Arabic beans should work.

Ayato's eyes widened as your unsanitized hand reached for the bean bowl. "Stay still, Mx. (Y/n), don't do anything rash–"

With amazing precision, the beans reached their target.

Plunk.

The Kamisato heir shut their eyes, clicking his tongue in disappointment.

"Ow– what was that for?!" Itto frowned angrily. "Seriously, what the hell, (Y/..."

…

Arataki Itto stared at you blankly, his eyes slowly rolling upward.

"... Itto?"

"... (Y/n)..."

"Y-Yeah?"

"I… t-trust you, homie–" His eyes fluttered, closing gradually while his knees buckled.

"Catch me."

"Huh? H-Hey, wait–"

THUD!!!

Just like a snail's shell boldly crossing a busy pedestrian lane, your body was absolutely wrecked. Your upper back hit the floor first as you cradled Itto's weight between your arms.

Everyone was stunned. Kaeya's producer looked at you in confusion.

"Do you have any idea what you just did...?"

"I have no idea what I've done either, heh." You wheezed, unable to breathe properly as Itto crushed your lungs. "All I know is that Dottore told me to do that if he starts acting violently."

Dainsleif and Zhongli immediately rushed towards you and Itto, with the latter fruitlessly attempting to dial 911 with his lack of technological wisdom. Diluc came back, asking what the hell just happened before Childe and Dainsleif carried Itto off you. Meanwhile, Ayato stood by the corner, laughing to himself. You would too if you weren't so busy getting suffocated by Itto's comically heavy muscles.

Childe slapped the back of your head after you were safely untangled from the unconscious man's limbs. "You idiot! He's allergic to beans!!!"

"... Hehe, whoops?" You heard CEO Alhaitham's assistant sigh from behind you, but you still quipped up a joke. "Can I blame Master Dottore for this, pretty pleease?"

"Arataki Itto is your responsibility, Mx. (Y/n)" Someone spoke in a low, reverberating voice.

Everyone stopped to look at Zhongli, whose face expressed indifference yet his crossed arms exude something far more ineffably foreboding.

"As written in the contract, a TEYVAT PRODUCTIONS producer should be the one looking after their idols if they're admitted to the hospital, correct?"

You stiffened.

Oh no.

"... Hey, Ayato?"

"Hmm?" He answered with a hand covering his clearly smiling face.

"How long does allergy-induced comas last–"

Dainsleif chuckled, replying instead of the young politician. "Could be between 24 to 48 hours."

"Fuck."

Needless to say, you brought this to yourself.

... So long, 3-day vacation.

You want to turn into a snail.

The remainder of the event came to an abrupt end. The CEO's assistant rescheduled everything while the remaining ADDICKTZ producers unwillingly cleaned up everything. Compared to Zhongli, who sat back down on an empty table with his osmanthus tea, Childe was the loudest complainer. Being wise beyond his years, the Liyue man drank in silence while ignoring the mayhem going on around him.

If everyone saw the way both Arataki "Numero Uno" Itto and his accomplice Akira smirked when you chucked a bean to his head, you might just catch on that he's keener than what most underestimated him for.

Your idol noticed that you've been busy hanging with Thoma lately and wanted to monopolize your attention for a while, so he staged himself up for a beating. Did Itto plan on getting completely knocked out by beans? No, probably not. You're quite unpredictable and this is merely a consequence of poor planning.

Still, unfortunately for you, Zhongli and Itto are unexpected kindred spirits. Knowing the reckless nature you both shared, Zhongli anticipated something like this might happen. It's a good thing the Liyuean helped him with revising their contract.

This will be their little secret. Unconscious men tell no tales, right?

Zhongli laughed.

Ah, youth.

Ansytea: y-you absolutely scare me, please kindly accept this offering, my lord snail– anyways, thank you for joining the 1k event!!!

#tag: yan!1k idol event #arataki itto x reader #yandere arataki itto x reader #yandere arataki itto #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere fanfiction #yancore #yandere itto #yandere oneshot #yandere idol #yandere idol genshin #ansy-writes

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thedawningofthehour · 5 months

Text

Okay, first of making fun of rich people's houses on Zillow. This is actually the tamest house out of the three that made me want to do this.

This house was in Arizona and is like 15 mil and 13,000 square feet.

Entertaining Room That We Absolute Use.

I'm guessing this is either for the two people that are still friends with them or for inviting over other rich couples to show off how rich they are. Look, we have this grand piano here. It has never been used and we have to pay a guy to tune it regularly, but one day little Susie will prove to be a musical prodigy and we can force her to play for people we don't like.

Oh, this is the other side. I actually hate it more now. The other side wasn't my taste, but at least it was scenic. That flooring and those columns are literally just "look I have so much money." Also the effect of Fancy Chandelier is somewhat diluted if you put two of them in the same room.

Featuring Much Used Table and Chair in the background and...what is that supposed to be, like a secretary counter on the left? I can just imagine some lady in an office chair behind that answering the Very Busy house phone.

"This is where Daddy loses his Christmas bonus on poker night."

Okay, I-no, I hate this, I can't pretend not to. I hate the white kitchen trend, I hate marble countertops. They have...they look like brussel sprouts on a tray? As a decoration?

The dual fridges thing might have been cool if the execution was different, but for some reason the design and color just makes it look like it was tacked on, like if-wait. How many ovens are there?

So they have two stovetop ovens there

And what looks like two ovens in between the fridges? Four ovens?!

I mean, the top oven looks like it might be a microwave? I think the bottom might be a proofing drawer for bread, (lol like these people make their own bread) so many the middle is some specialty oven?

Still. A lot for a kitchen that's almost certainly never used.

I don't really have anything to say about this one. I'm just confused as to what it's for.

I'm increasingly suspicious that rich people are just pretending to be human.

Oh, finally, the living room people actually spend time in.

Featuring Exposed Beams That Are Totally Structurally Necessary.

And big TV you need binoculars to watch from the couch and can't be properly seen from a third of the sitting area. Much used dining table there. Bonus Dead Exotic Animal so you know they travel.

"To show off that we have the money for a bar but we don't want to look like alcoholics."

Deadass thought the back of the couch was stone for a minute.

This room isn't too bad-it's extra and they definitely don't need two sets of double doors right next to each other, but it does seem kind of cozy. I mostly left it in as a palate cleanser for what's to come.

Is that...

Yes. Yes it is.

WHY WHY WHY WHY

Why would you put glass double doors on the bathroom?!

What is going on with that ceiling-oh god, someone is going to slip and crack their head right open on those stairs. Maybe this entire house is an elaborate life insurance plot. If you get bored of your fifth wife just tell her to go take a bath and then you're free to marry your mistress of the month.

This would be so goddamn COLD, guess it's a good thing they have that fireplace.

WHAT IS GOING ON WITH THIS SHOWER?! Is it supposed to be a communal shower?!! Why is it so big?! WHY IS THERE A WINDOW?

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHY IS THERE A WINDOW.

I will give them this, I do like how they rounded this out. This part isn't bad. I actually do like the tile design, I just...don't like how they used it.

Just in case you're too befuddled by the actual bathing facilities and choose to go "fuck it" and shower outside.

Actually, the shower out here does make sense, they have a pool. If you're in and out of the water all day, do a quick rinse to get the chlorine off and put a coverup on to go eat lunch or whatever. That's reasonable.

All I can think of here is someone trying to put their makeup and hair products down and accidentally knocking them to the floor because they forget that the counter gets thinner.

Also omg the duuuuuuuust.

There's just something about those 'pretend cultured and fancy' columns against the stark white walls and ceilings that I hate. It's so pretentious and fake.

Is it just me or does every single chair look photoshopped in? There's something weird going on with the lighting.

"Do you hate being able to feel your toes? Do you love having cold feet? Then I have one hell of a basement to sell you!"

I feel like those chairs would actually be extremely uncomfortable and you know each one cost more than my car.

No one has ever used this pool.

Seriously, you couldn't swim laps in it. You could only really swim around in the very deep end, kids wouldn't have a whole lot of space where they can touch to play around. Maybe they could take a little kid to the very edge and splash in the water. And by 'they' I mean the underpaid nanny the parents look down on for being Hispanic despite their ad requiring applicants to be bilingual.

Totally Legit Well. Seriously, guys, this is an ancestral home.

Oh, but we're not done. They have like a guest house or pool house?

Wait, why does this kitchen look better than the main house's kitchen? This one I can actually picture someone using.

Look at that sink! Actually made to wash dishes!

(idk what's up with the line of apples in the cabinet tho)

Okay, the pool house is way cooler. I feel like the big house is literally just for show and this is where people actually spend their time. This looks far more comfortable.

Car stables. "Daddy, why do you have so many cars you use twice a year and cost a quarter million each?"

"Well, sweetie, the short answer is your mother is cheating on me and this fills the void in my life."

Okay I'm gonna go make myself a grilled cheese now. Idk if I'll do another one tonight, but this was fun! I love roasting rich people.

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alatismeni-theitsa · 8 months

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Hi,

Can I ask your opinion? There is one YouTuber who is lives Spain and USA and he sounds quite basic. Thing that makes me think is that he says that ottoman and Arab slavers weren't as bad as Atlantic slave trade. Reason for that was because slaves can earn their freedom and their children weren't slaves and after they get free they lived part of society etc. He says that best way to find information treatment of slaves is people who own them. What is your opinion of this? Like I know how Balkans they tattooed girls to keep the safe and captured young boys were convert to islam and rise soldiers.

"that best way to find information treatment of slaves is people who own them." oh, really? Let's go read old WASP's accounts of their Black slaves. I'm sure they will be very reflective of the truth, right? 😂😂 It's all "please look at the perspective of the slaves!" until the slaves are European, apparently.

I think this whole discussion of "Arab slavery wasn't that bad" is a way to minimize an extremely wide and despicable slave trade that lasted for more than A THOUSAND YEARS (and still hasn't ended). In comparison, slavery in America lasted from the 17th to the 19th century. (400 years if we are generous)

Also, I'm sure they would change their tune once they learned that "Brown" and "Black" people too were taken as slaves in this slave-trade. Especially "Black" people were taken a lot and in rural areas they were forced to work in the hardest of conditions, often not living more than 5 years.

I will link videos below that mention all the countries where slaves were taken from, reviewed by Black African women. But I will focus here on Europe because that's what USians have in mind when they say "it wasn't that bad".

Whole villages were taken. Villages. For centuries on end. The sheer amount of people who were taken is scary. We are talking about large populations that changed the genetic makeup of certain areas. And we have veeery few accounts of these people earning their freedom. Just because they legally could, it doesn't mean their "masters" let them.

Families were separated. They were killed when they were trying to escape. They could be beaten and lashed at any moment, for any minor inconvenience they created for their "lord". Yes, there were house slaves, too, like in transatlantic slavery, but they were also made to work under extreme conditions (e.g. extreme heat). They were working in plantations and in mining, things that the free people wouldn't do themselves.

They were castrated. They were raped and often carried the child of their rapists. Through these rapes, many children were born and mothers tried to hush this fact and hide it from future generations. Being seen as an "exotic commodity" isn't the flex these people think it is. Being a "white breeding mare" the pirates went all the way to Norway to capture, isn't a flex.

A White woman cost higher than a Black woman (racial discrimination against Black people that spread in other areas too) but that meant that European women were hunted down intensely and they had almost no chance of escaping captivity through ransom. It was more profitable to be sold, than to be returned with a ransom paid by their families or foreign countries. Arabs "preferred" non-Black slaves, and so many non-Black slaves were taken for many centuries. A double-edged sword, because you don't exactly want a slaver to "prefer" your "race" for any reason.

And if you think that highly sought enslaved women in the "entertainment" industry weren't frequently abused or raped, you can look at the abuse numbers of free women in the entertainment industry today...

People born from rape during slavery were much more than we think. Having to "ruin yourself" with tattoos (according to your tradition) and raise your child as another gender, speaks volumes of the lengths people went to avoid a very frequent phenomenon. The Greek revolution against the Ottomans clearly stated "we don't want to be taken as slaves anymore! We prefer one hour of freedom over 40 years of slavery!" In many cases, the slaves were outright called "chattel"!

Taking the male population as children is also looked by the outsiders as "good" because "they lived in good conditions and they were educated" but please go tell that to the mothers who never saw their children again. These children were also stripped of their culture and religion and language, and were often employed to oppress and kill their own people. Many Balkan countries have songs about this phenomenon.

This slave-trade was totally legal and acceptable within the Ottoman and Arab empires but it was also pirating activity that supplied the slave traders. It was mostly the Beber nations but many Africans, and West Asians and Arabs in the Arab peninsula benefited from it. They often took part in the "stealing people" operations. For example, the most exposure to Black people Greeks had was when they saw them as pirates in Arab ships. That's why the slur for a Black person in Greece historically is basically "Arab".

Europeans were building WALLS toward the sea to prevent these attacks. (Ironically, some were built by the same government that took their subjects as slaves) Thessaloniki had these walls, for example. Like, I'm not sure if the USians who often compare the slave trades ever thought of having a wall towards the sea as a normal thing. Some European nations still have sayings like "there are no Moors at the coast" as another way to say "all is safe". That's how much the trauma has stuck.

In the video linked below, there's also mentioned a revolt towards an Ottoman leader because "why won't you let us have slaves from Europe??" Does this conflict ring a bell, fellow US-ian friends? 😂

European nations and the US had created TREATIES with African states (which didn't stop the attacks in many cases) as an effort to basically say "ok, stop taking our people! we will pay you!" The amounts paid were extravagant but they were still small in comparison to how many people (and profit lol) would be lost otherwise.

There were a few cases where a slave could free themselves in the Arab slave trade but this was the case in the American slave trade too! Legally slaves in the Americas could be freed if their master wanted it, if they paid off their master, or if they were illegally enslaved. They could also have court cases to win their freedom, or serve in the military in exchange for freedom. Some were allowed to have side businesses and earn their own money (and eventually pay for their freedom).

We know there were such cases but, as I mentioned above, just because it is the law, it doesn't mean that it happened a lot.

An American would tell you "noo! Despite some legal protections it was still horrible!" and I'm asking, why don't you say this for the millions and millions of slaves in the Arab slave trade when it comes to laws VS actual treatment?

"their children (the children of slaves) weren't slaves". The recorded history shows that they usually were slaves, though. A minority, if lucky enough, could gain freedom while being born a slave. But slaves were often lumped together in certain areas so they had children with other slaves. And even children by free men often were considered slaves, unless the free male master decided to recognize them.

Just because it isn't Louisiana weather and just because the slaves (usually) didn't die on the way to their destination, it doesn't make it less atrocious. There was a reason our traditions speak of people killing themselves before they could get captured into slavery.

Like a gay Greek man said the other day "we are not supposed to be thankful just because you're not dragging us on the streets and stoning us". The laws saying "Provide shelter, and healthcare and don't mistreat your slaves" doesn't mean this was followed. "Shelter" could be a dirty shed. "Medical attention" could be splashing some water on the wounds from the lashing. "Don't overwork them" could be "I work them too much but not to death, so it doesn't count."

The video speaks more about the white slave-trade of US people but it's good to note how this looks "mild" (for lack of a better word) to what was happening in Europe. I'm not saying this as "these slaves had it better compared to the European ones". No. I'm simply saying that the danger and frequency were much larger for European people, mainly those who lived in coastal nations.

youtube

This video focuses on other areas, mainly in Africa, where slaves were frequently taken from.

youtube

#answered #slave trade #greek history #balkans #slavery #xenoi doing bs #arab slave trade

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