#everything you do is political every step you take in society is political | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

merakiui · 2 months

Note

Hello! Could I request flower bouquet from the miscellaneous menu.. And as for the dynamic, I'm quite indecisive on that regard, but I recall you saying it's fine to let you chose? Forgive me if I'm wrong. I'd like to order that with red velvet cupcakes & banana pudding from the midnight menu for Jade Leech, with an AFAB reader. If you are unable to do this, it is completely understandable. I hope your day/night goes well, and may you take care.

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, kidnapping, slight angst, royalty au (princess!reader x butler!jade) note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

It’s well past midnight when Jade finds you in the garden. He spots you milling about aimlessly beneath a stone archway. Greenery twists up the rough surface; vines spotted with tiny flowers drape like fruit from a bough. Moonlight paints you in strokes of silvery magnificence, a breathtaking sight even the most skillful painter could never hope to replicate on a canvas. Even though it’s the middle of summer, there’s a fierce bite to tonight’s temperature. It’s in his nature to protect, a bodyguard and a butler in one, which is precisely why he frets when he notices you’re dressed in a thin nightgown and a silk robe.

You’re stunning regardless of your attire. He’s always thought so. A hopeless observation, for you have never belonged to him and thus those words will remain a scandal under lock and key.

“My lady?” He approaches with even steps, his voice a gentle whisper. Despite his best efforts, you still flinch at his sudden arrival. He bows respectfully, a hand held over his heart. “Forgive me for startling you. I noticed you weren’t in bed when I came to check on you, and so I thought I might find you here.”

“Am I really so predictable?”

“Quite.” He chuckles at the pout that twists on your lips. “Admittedly, my advantage is rather unfair. I’ve known you long enough to commit all of your habits and haunts to memory.”

“You’re too good. It’s not fair…”

“Is everything all right?” Jade moves to shrug his tailcoat off, aiming to drape it across your shoulders for extra layering, but you stop him. “My lady?”

“I’m not cold. Thank you, though.”

Jade nods slowly and slides his arms back into the sleeves. “May I ask what’s keeping you up? It’s unlike you to visit the garden so late.”

“It’s nothing major. Just thinking too much about too many things. If that makes any sense…”

He hums in acknowledgement. You fidget on your bare feet. Some days Jade thinks you’d wander to your death if it weren’t for him. Having suspected this, he made sure to bring your shoes. Guiding you to the marble bench at the end of the pathway, where the space opens into a clearing enclosed with shaped shrubbery, Jade lowers to his knees.

“A princess shouldn’t dirty her feet so carelessly,” he reminds you, taking hold of your foot and gingerly sliding your shoe on.

You frown at him. “Does it matter?”

“In polite society, yes, very much so.”

“Polite society is the worst. How am I meant to frolic in the flowers as the fairy tales intended if I can’t even take my shoes off for such a thing?”

“You may do so in your dreams.”

“It’s not the same.”

Jade gazes at your legs from where he kneels. Should his gaze climb any higher… He snuffs that thought before it can take root. “Perhaps not, but the world within a dream is lenient and lawless. You’re free to break every rule you desire.”

He offers you his arm and you take it. Lifting you from the bench, he walks with you and admires lush blossoms alongside you. Sweet is the night breeze, bringing recollections of a childhood that has long since fled. Watching you, future heir to the throne, from afar, an unimportant butler-in-training… You’ve always been his world—the center of his vision. The single flower in a garden infested with weeds.

What he’d do to pick you and put you in a pot of his own making. To keep you solely because it is the whim of a selfish heart caught up in foolish, one-sided limerence.

“What would you do? In your dreams, I mean. If you could experience any dream, what would it be?”

Jade peers at you, taken aback. “You’re asking me?”

“No, I’m asking the flowers.” Playfully, you reach up to pat his head. He leans down to meet your hand halfway, a smile gracing his features. How fervently he wishes you would touch him with more purpose. If only your individual stations were not so far apart. If only he could become your equal just for tonight and know rapture under your fingertips. “Yes, Jade, I’m asking you.”

It’s not a calculated risk, for he knows the outcome will never be in his favor, but he acts on impulse anyway. He seizes your hand. You flinch away, surprised by this forthright display, but he holds firm. He’s determined to see this through to the end, even if it lands him a heart more shattered than when he began.

“I would become a prince and marry you.”

Much to his chagrin, you laugh. “That’s quite the lofty dream. A funny one, too.”

He squeezes your hand, insistent. “That is the truth.”

“It’s not.” You meet his mismatched stare. “It… It’s not, right? Surely you jest.”

“I have always admired you, my lady.” Testing his limits, he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “Though you may be forever out of my reach and I may be but a mere servant, that does not stop me from loving you any less.”

Your face falls. There is no reciprocation to be found in your gaze. He suspected this from the beginning, but it does nothing to soothe the sting.

He grasps your other hand, hoping to bestow a kiss to it as well, but you jerk away so quickly that you trip over your feet and land in a heap on the grass. He doesn’t make any move to help you up. Not yet, at least. Lying sprawled on your back, you watch him with uncertain eyes.

“How long?”

“The day your father rescued me and brought me in—you offered your hand to me, and you told me I would never know the dangers of the sea again.” Jade stands over you, observing the many emotions flickering on your face, before lowering to your height. He straddles you with ease. “I had never known such kindness until then.”

“Ah, right… I remember that day. You were injured so severely they put you on bedrest. You had to learn how to walk all over again.”

“In spite of everything they told you about me, you visited me regardless. Every day, at every hour, to bring snacks and toys. To cheer me up. To wish for my swift recovery. To act as my crutch. For that, I am forever grateful.” His hands slide your nightgown up, and he feasts on the sight of your panties—on the way you draw your thighs together to hide from him. “I have always stood dutifully by your side, hoping to repay you for all that you’ve done for me.”

You look delicate in the grass, your robe slipping from your shoulders. Like a pinned butterfly or an angel having just fallen from the sky, you’re a sugared fantasy brought to life.

“Jade.” You grab at his shoulders and push back weakly; he doesn’t budge. “We… We shouldn’t. I can’t. If someone were to see—”

“They won’t.”

“Yes, but I—” you turn away from him, worrying your lip between your teeth— “I can’t, Jade… I’m betrothed. F-Furthermore, it’s not safe without…protection. You can’t.”

He smiles fondly, so sickly, stupidly enchanted. With the moon just behind his head, framing it like a hazy halo, you might mistake him for an angel. His actions suggest he’s anything but.

Lifting his index finger to his lips, he shushes you. “In that case, let’s play pretend for tonight—just as we used to—and trap ourselves in a dream.”

Your refusal falls on deaf ears.

Hands crawl along the expanse of your body, feeling everything within reach. He’s overjoyed to behold you, to press down on the space between your legs and savor your staggered breaths. You plead with him all throughout it, begging him to cease now and he’ll be spared. But Jade can’t. If it kills him, he wants to have died knowing he was on cloud nine.

This has always been his dream.

For tonight, he is neither prince nor butler. For tonight, he is simply a monster—the same monster your maids warned you against when you were little: “That cursed child is no good. He will bring ruin to your father—to you, Your Highness. You must keep away, for a child of the sea is a child of destruction and agony.”

The same monster who looked on with a single golden eye, lying in wait like the perfect predator and wearing the skin of a human to hide his true identity. The same monster who took to training as if it were second nature, honing his skills as a butler and a bodyguard. Hardening a heart that has never had the capacity to care for anything other than himself and the ones who have since departed.

The same monster who loves the human he ought to hate, for it is your kind who hunt the waters he was conceived in. Who spear merfolk with harpoons and feast on their flesh and eggs like it’s a sacred delicacy. Who arrange their skeletons in aureate frames. Who mount their taxidermied tails to the wall.

The same monster who, in some distant fairy tale, could have been a king if not for the devastation of his family tree.

Dewy grass sticks to your skin. The scent of moist earth envelops you in its verdant embrace. Jade sinks in slowly, holding you down by your hips. You squirm and cry, but he persists. He could be cruel and callous, rut into you like an animal instead of a lover, but he refrains. He loves you too much, and that hurts more than any pain he could inflict on you.

You dig your nails into his shoulders. If they were sharper, you might have been able to tear through his uniform. Sweet, soft moans spill from pretty, plush lips. He kisses you, adoring the hold your walls have on him when he rolls his hips to fill you deeper.

“Jade… Jade, please,” you ramble, breathing hot and heavy in his ears. It’s musical, the way you sing for him through your tears. “Oh, please pull out. I—aah—can’t… We can’t. Please, Jade.”

Perhaps it would have been easier to hate you and your father—detest the kingdom who has rendered his home an aquatic graveyard. Surrounded in a garden of exotic blooms, Jade thinks that’s impossible. Love born from hate is thorny, impossible to quell once it’s come to fruition. It’s dug its roots into his heart and given way to the most fearsome flower.

He should have killed you. He should have held that pillow over your face all those years ago when he snuck into your bedroom, silent as a shadow. He should have, but he didn’t—couldn’t. And now he’s here, towering over you without the pillow. His hands stray towards your throat, but instead of an execution he drags you against his chest. He can’t.

Years later and he still can’t fulfill his one and only childhood dream.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes glittering. “How I wish you were as ugly as your heart…”

Raindrops spatter your face, a quiet downpour spilling from heterochromatic hues.

You fall apart beneath him, ruined in ways polite society would deem grossly impure.

Now we’re the same, Jade thinks, bowing his head when he reaches his peak. He groans lowly, his eyes squeezed shut. Monsters without homes.

Come morning, the palace is in a panic. The princess has vanished, seemingly whisked away into the night, and the only one who may have any information on her whereabouts has gone with her. Jade doesn’t worry.

No one will find you at the bottom of the sea, unrecognizable as a mermaid in an abandoned coral kingdom.

On his empty throne, he knows of no better place.

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere jade leech #yandere jade leech x reader #yandere jade x reader #yandere jade #n/sfw #tw: noncon #lunar love hotel 2023

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florvaine · 10 months

Text

silver spikes and pastel ribbons.

headcannons of Hobie with an opposite aesthetic gf. (afab! reader)

genre: mainly fluff, slight angst, nsfw(?)

warnings: little nsfw if you squint, crying, some kid gets a car lobbed at him 😭

i imaginee the two of you actually met at one of his gigs 🫶🏻

He was on the stage, flicking his roughened fingertips on each string on his guitar, a harsh rift sounding through the amp on the edge of platform as he moves his hand further up the fretboard.

Then he looks in the crowd, right by the barrier of sweaty, headbanging and most likely hammered fans, and you’re right there.

Directly in front of him, pressed against the metal-barred barrier that security was struggling to keep people from hopping over.

What caught him off guard wasn’t only the fact you were fuckin’ gorgeous, but the fluttery, light pink dress that was just above the middle of your thighs. White lace trimmed the v-shaped neckline that was held up by thin, spaghetti straps.

Strips of silky ribbon cascade from the wrap around your waist, dangling pearls and a small-chain necklace decorate your collarbones and shimmer like the sheen of sweat that held stray hairs against your temples and your forehead.

And your shoes - a pair of white, glossy, open-toed high heels that added a few extra inches to your height (Hobie secretly wanted to give you a few other inches), but even with them Hobie could still tell from the stage that he was way taller than you.

He misses a single strum of his guitar, so he temporarily redirects his attention back to the gig, his hickory eyes still wandering over to you from under his mask.

100% got the security to practically hunt you down so you could meet him backstage.

He’s a little anxious because they were taking a while, and he’s slightly disappointed at the thought you already left.

But then there’s a knock at the door and one of the security guards speaks muffled through his private backstage room.

“Hobie, got the girl you were askin’ for.”

The rest is history, really. You were officially dating after 7 painfully long months.

You got along well, even if everything else about each other was contrasting, you’re political ideals, music taste and humour are practically a copy and paste.

The two of you get undoubtably get some stares.

A man clad in black leather and silver spikes and a woman dressed like a doll stood out a lot against the Nike trackies of London.

“Everyone’s staring, Hobie.”

“Ignore ‘em, hun. They’re pissed JD is shut.”

Every now and then he takes you to a more quiet, downtown street with a collection of thrift stores and craft shops.

Hobie’s definitely caught in Hobbycraft at least twice a week 😭😭

Literally loves your style - everything from your jewellery to the way you get your nails done.

He’s whipped ‼️

Loves everything about you, but especially your hair.

If you wear wigs he’s helping you install it, if you have naturally curly hair he’s taking note of each step for later on, he reads the labels of every hair product you own.

I feel like he has a thing for curly hair idk why I just get the vibe.🤭

Hobie definatly told Pav and Gwen about you when you first met, like the next day he’s at the Spider Society talking even more than usual.

“She was stunnin’, I’m tellin’ ya’ now. Really nice eyes,” He turns away from them and mutters under his breath, “And tits.”

Gwen smirks, “You’ve told us, I’m pretty sure.” She nudges Pav, and he’s giggling like an excited schoolgirl.

“Never thought I’d see Hobie have a full-blown crush!” Pav comments.

Hobie hums, a small smile on his face as he stares infront of him. Gwen and Pav share a look before they imitate the way he looks - like a lovestruck idiot.

It’s funny with one of you in the other’s room - Hobie, dressed in dark blues and blacks with an overall threatening aura just sat on your pretty pink bedsheets in your floral-scented room.

Sometimes you’ll randomly go on a tangent about a new dress or concert tickets whilst doing something else, and you’re convinced he’s uninterested.

Next time he’s at yours he had that new dress in a silk scarf wrap, or he pulls the tickets out of one of his pockets.

You’re in the kitchen of your apartment, stirring the milk into your tea as Hobie scrapes butter onto two slices of toast you had put in.

When he’s finished, he slides the plate over to you before leaning back on the counter and looking at your over his shoulder.

“Thanks, Bee,” You pick up the plate, moving it closer to you for easier access to the toast.

There’s two rectangular, shimmery-sheened tickets underneath the circular plate.

You’re shocked, looking at the ticket now in your hand, eyes moving from the words and numbers printed onto it and your boyfriend.

“Hobie, you didn’t have to!” You say.

“You said that ya’ wanted to see them, so I got us tickets.” He shrugs, a small proud smirk on his lips.

Movie nights every Friday after dinner 💕

Sometimes he has to leave early or he shows up later on, but he makes up for the time lost by bringing you your favourite food and drink from the local corner shop.

If you’re in college or uni, he will swing in every break and check in on you and everything.

When it comes to cuddling, he’s the big spoon 95% of the time unless he had a really shitty day.

Like really shitty.

It’s not very often Hobie crys, and even when he does it’s not for very long.

The man prides himself in being Spider-Punk, saving civilians whilst preaching his beliefs to his followers that feel more like a family than fans.

He can only hold on so long, and it’s only a matter of time before he can’t save someone.

Sure, the little boy wasn’t dead, he was in hospital after a car had been carelessly tossed into him by the anomaly he was supposed to contain.

After visiting the boy in hospital, chanting apologies and ‘get well soon’s like a broken record, he goes to the first place he can think of.

Yours.

There was something so special, so serene and comforting in the confines of your cluttered shelves and organised wardrobe pressed against the walls of your bedroom.

Hobie knew it wasn’t the room, but it was you.

You, so different and relaxing. Calming and exciting, understanding and motivating. Anywhere was safe if you were there.

He swings through shadowed alleys, reaching your apartment over the bustling roads and honking horns of the cars below.

Hobie perches on your small balcony, and taps on the window.

In his reflection, Spider-Punk looks back at him. Strong, unbeatable, selfless and stubborn. But as he pulls the mask off, the fabric hanging limp like a ragdoll cat in his had, Hobie Brown stares back at him.

Tattered, exhausted, overwhelmed and in desperate need to be in your arms.

The window opens. His mental image of himself splits away as soon as he sees your face.

“Rough night?” You ask, voice slightly raspy and muffled, yet still as soothing as hot tea and honey on a sore throat.

The routine begins when Hobie nods. He clambers in, he takes off his boots and jacket and leaves them by your desk, his mask discarded somewhere beside them.

You pull out one of his white, soft cotton shirts from your dresser, and a pair of dark grey shorts. He gets changed, you make a cup of tea.

Then he cries. Salty droplets of embodied sorrows paired with the pinch of his eyebrows and the slight quiver of his bottom lip.

Each time a tear drips down his soft cheeks you wipe it away with your equally as soft hands, smearing the liquidated sadness into his now clumpy lashes.

You count sixteen droplets this time before he stops, and you stand up to offer the silk scarf he wrapped your gifted babydoll dress in, and he takes it before wrapping the coarse, black wicks that topped his head.

And then he’s curling his back against your chest, holding the hand of your arm that loosely covers his waist.

Their consciousness fades into two seperate slumbers. A comforting silence drapes over the two lovers, knowing that the other will be there when they awake.

-—-

#*{ ‘. florawrites<3 #hobie x you #hobie brown x reader #hobie headcanons #hobart brown #into the spider verse #spider man: across the spider verse #x reader #spider punk #spiderman x reader

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cheegu3 · 1 year

Text

𝐉𝐉𝐊 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

genre > yandere, royal au, one-shot

pairing > prince!j.k x f.m reader

wc > 3.7k

warnings > yandere themes, murder, blood, sadism, asshole jk, inaccurate depictions of trials, mentions of rape, classism, corruption

summary > In the country where justice was the center of everything, things seemed a bit different when it came to the royal family. The prince had never been taken down before successfully, do you dare try although others have failed?

You stared up at the palace in front, stretching as far as your eyes could go and covering the sky above with its height. Perhaps its size was intentional; intimidating those that were contemplating going up the wide steps.

It could be the reason why many didn't dare do what you were about to do - demand a trial against a royal family member.

Your country took pride in being a just society. More justice is served here than any other land, they'd boast. If you demanded a trial, no matter how big or small the concern was, you'd be granted one as that was your right.

But even though the fair state made no exceptions for the royal family or anyone being upperclass or otherwise '' more important '' people - very few dared bring the royals to court.

It may be more because of the way that they are. Royals were usually charming, either loved or admired by the people. Although that was obtained by manipulation, it was a fact no one could argue.

The Jeon family were different from other royals however. They were honest in all of their feelings, wether they were good or bad ones. There was no room for sugarcoating and they were therefor pretty disliked but well respected.

A cold, almost sinister or dark aura seemed to follow them whenever any of their members were seen - even more so when they were together.

The king and queen had two sons, Jeon Jungkook and Jeon Wonwoo. Both had beautiful faces and tall physiques, fit for a prince. But the younger of the two brothers, seemed to be the worst.

He was a loose cannon in the family. Committing several crimes such as murder, arson, kidnapping, torture and genocide - rightfully earning him nicknames like '' the psycho prince '' or '' the dark knight''.

Since almost no commoner dared take the royal family to court - he was left to do whatever he wanted. The ones that had been brave enough to try it after they had gotten their loved ones murdered, all for some fun for the little prince, had lost every single time.

For being such a fair country in theory, it was far from it when it came to the court and the family. They were the ones ruling it, making the judgements very biased when it was a case against their own kind.

You had been at a handful of public trials before, and it was brutal. One time a poor man had tried taking on the Jeon Jungkook after he pillaged a town and murdered all the kids there.

And the psycho smiled right at him, confidence and arrogance radiating in his oddly innocent looking bambi eyes, a feature of stark contrast to his real personality.

No lawyer, and the prince still won in the end. That's how they work. Yet even for the more complex cases when they'd need one, they would hire a family friend and win anyway.

You knew all this as you walked the steps with your head held high. You knew it but you had lost everything to him, and you were going to make him pay, being the first to do so - even if it meant dying in the process. Because you had nothing to lose after all.

The grand doors swung open just as your hand hovered near the handle. A man in his 60s stepped out and gave you an empty look, his face void of any emotions.

He must be from the royal family

You mustered up a polite smile, trying to look composed, despite feeling anything but at that moment.

'' We're closed '' he muttered tight-lipped and glared at you.

'' I know, sir. But I will be quick '' you gave him another smile and batted your eyelashes, trying to feign an expression of innocence.

You weren't sure how you'd react if he rejected your judgement proposal. But you had a feeling you might lunge at him as rage had already started to form upon realising he was from the same family as the boy you hated the most.

He sighed deeply and swung the door open again, disappearing without looking back. You hurriedly ran after, almost getting hit by the door because of the force he swung it open with.

It had to be quick, and you couldn't irritate him further or else he'd reject you immediately.

'' Sit '' he beckoned towards a chair beneath the high table he was now standing at in his office.

'' I'd like to request a judgement '' you blurted out, as soon as you sunk down on the cushion.

'' For? ''

You hesitated for a moment, it was hard to believe you were actually going through with this. Some had been sentenced to death before doing exactly this, due to '' false accusations '', and that could very well be you soon.

'' Eh...the prince '' his eyebrows raised '' Sir '' you added, swallowing your anxiety.

'' Very well '' the man muttered, engrossed in some kind of book he had in front of him.

'' I'll schedule it. But I must ask, are you aware of how hard it is to win against the prince? ''

You furrowed your brows in surprise. Since he was a part of the prestigious family himself, he surely wouldn't admit to there being foul-play involved in the trials with the royal family, right? Or maybe he was trying to warn you subtly of not wasting their time, due to the slim chances of winning.

Either way, you nodded. The passion of hate burning within and making you appear confident. He only scoffed at your newfound confidence. It was laughable to him since he knew you'd lose, without a doubt - everyone did after all, why should you be any different?

'' Very well '' he said again, but this time with a slight sigh.

The man threw the paper towards your direction and you carefully picked it up into your hands. It was just a document stating that you had demanded a trial and the date it would take place, a week from now.

That's plenty of time to make a good case

Since you were poor, you couldn't afford a lawyer and the city didn't give out public defenders - everyone had to fend for themselves, which probably contributed to the royal family's win-streak.

Even the rich didn't dare take on the family. It was always those with nothing to lose that tried their luck, expecting the outcome to be different than those that tried it before, and you were no different.

'' Now, begone. I've got better things to do ''

'' Thank you '' you said and left, mind racing with all the arguments you could come up with.

*******

You didn't shy away from the piercing glares from the stands in front of you as you took in every word the judge was saying.

She had just introduced the case, what its circumstances were and the other judges behind her. You only quickly glanced at them, their matching features telling you that they were all part of the royal family.

That's all you needed to know to make the judgement that they would be very partial. But that didn't bother you because it was a public trial.

You had specifically asked for it, so you knew some people could still be on your side. Therefor you paid the stand with the commoners more attention as you gave them a polite smile.

'' Jeon Jungkook, please come up to the podium ''

Your eyes followed the crowd to find the young man in the middle of the royals' stand. He looked just as surprised as the rest. You almost rolled your eyes visibly at the realisation that the family loved theatrics and had probably refrained from mentioning who the accused was, until the very end - for the ultimate dramatical effect.

The prince still got on his feet and walked up to the podium as he was told, he only spared you a stoic look, signature of the Jeon's.

But you weren't scared, even as the male took his place next to you and towered over you; his narrowed eyes on you when you spoke.

'' I accuse the Jeon Jungkook of the murder of my father '' you hesitantly looked down at your notes, the next part was kind of an improvisation just to further add to the length of his imprisonment that you were hoping for.

'' And mass killing of the Village of the West, where I reside in ''

A few gasps erupted from the crowd and you could hear a chuckle to your right. All eyes were on you right now, and it was impossible to not feel it.

'' On the night of January 24th, the man next to me galloped in with his horse straight into my town. His men plundered the houses, and-'' you swallowed thickly, voice starting to shake from the memories of the screams ''-And raped them, while Jungkook did nothing to stop them. He was busy murdering the many innocent civilians for fun ''

The accused only hummed next to you, arrogance evident in his tone. But you refused to let it affect you - everything in your delivery had to be perfect, otherwise you'd lose this case and be sentenced to death like all the others.

'' I begged him '' you did as you had practiced, pressing the tears out as a pained expression overtook your features.

The prince watched you in awe, a slight sarcastic smirk on his face.

You were different from the others, weren't you?

'' I-I tried to stop him, but he didn't want to listen- '' you wiped the tears tactfully away from your stained face.

'' I could only watch as the blood ran out of his body, until it was cold. I held him until he took his last breath ''

You shook your head.

'' This country prides itself on its fairness. But what justice is it if the murderer of my father gets set free? Shouldn't he suffer, as I have suffered? ''

Your glossy eyes darted towards the commoners' stand, trying your best to beg without audibly saying it. Then they briefly brushed over the royal family's stand too, although they looked less sympathetic.

'' Do you have witnesses? '' the judge asked, looking rather bored by the whole thing, like she had better things to do.

'' Yes, ma'am '' you nodded, enthustiacally.

The doors' to the witnesses' quarters were opened and out came a shy looking boy, around the same age as you. Behind him was his father, following him closely while staring at the ground.

They took their place at the witnesses' stand and you let out a breath of relief, half expecting them to not show up as you had predicted the royal family of paying the witnesses off.

You smiled at them now, feeling more confident than ever that you'd win this case.

'' Where were you on the night of January 24th? '' you asked.

The father nudged the soon forward, urging him to speak.

'' Uh...I was at my home. In the Village of the South, ma'am ''

'' And, what did you see? ''

The boy's eyes seemed to flick momentarily towards the savage man next to you in fear. Maybe he was scared he would get targeted if he spoke out against Jungkook but you had already anticipated that, having watched many trials the prince had been in before - so you softly called out the boy's name again to get him to focus on you, an encouraging smile adorning your face.

'' I was on my way back from the Village of the West. I always go there to pick berries, and I heard a lot of screaming as I had turned my back towards the village. When I went back to investigate, I saw men dressed in royal clothing, plunging their swords into the civilians or entering the houses ''

The crowd murmured, and some shouted out in anger, claiming the boy was lying. You tried to catch his eyes again, drowning out the people and he seemed to understand, he gave you a sad smile while grimacing as the crowd got louder.

'' Are you sure of this? '' the judge said, after slamming her gavel to get the courtroom to be quiet.

'' Yes, and I'm not the only one '' he said, shuffling so his father could get up to the podium.

'' I met my son halfway as the screams could be heard all the way to our village. Us two and more, went in a group to investigate and we saw the same thing my son just described ''

He gestured towards the stand were two gentlemen got on their feet and confirmed they were a part of the group.

When they were seated again, the courtroom was eerily silent. The royals seemed to cast worried glances at each other while the commoners looked at the accused with disgust.

Despite feeling his eyes on you, trying to maybe persuade you with his charm and puppy-like eyes - you refused to look at him until the very end of the trial, when you'd hope he would be taken away.

You knew of his ways and his famous charm. That's how he got away with most things; pretty privilege to its finest.

'' The court will take a brief, five minute break '' the judge said.

You didn't fail to notice how her eyes said something unspoken to Jungkook, and not long after you saw how he disappeared somewhere along with her and his parents.

Those five minutes felt more like a few hours. In the meantime you tried to ignore the stares from the rest of the royal family, assessing you from head to toe.

But thankfully it didn't last too long, some doors to the side swung open exactly as five minutes had passed. You made the mistake of looking, at the judge and then at you opponent who smirked confidently at you.

He took his place next to you again and the judge went up to the front. An unreadable expression was on her face, one that sent unexplainable shivers down your spine.

'' The judgement has been finalised '' she announced.

The murmur from the crowed started again and you couldn't help but murmur to yourself as well. You felt a bit puzzled. Only you had presented your side, yet there was a verdict? This couldn't be good news.

You felt his eyes on you again as you bit the inside on your cheek, basically holding your breath while listening to the judge's next words carefully.

'' The court has found Jeon Jungkook guilty of the murder of Miss. y/n's father ''

You released a breath of relief, a disbelieved laugh slipping out.

'' He has been judged to serve two years in prison ''

You closed your eyes as the tears started streaming down your face and you prayed a thousand times, thanking whatever deity might be up there for their help in this historical moment.

Your hands gripped the corners of the stand while you kept sobbing when you were embraced by the goodhearted witnesses.

Raising your head, you looked at them, smiling while your vision was blurred with tears. It had all been possible thanks to them, because they had refused to be bribed by the royal family's money and had decided to stand by your side instead.

You thanked them as well. There were probably not enough good deeds you could do in this lifetime to repay them though. But you knew you would try your very best to do so; until your very last breath, you'd be at their service.

If there were any insults thrown your way, you didn't hear them. All you could think about was how your father would be so immensely proud of you.

You were escorted out of the court with your newfound friends by your side, and you of course failed to notice the pair of eyes following you all the way out.

There was only euphoria coursing through you, and it would probably remain that way for the rest of the day.

Your friends walked you all the way to your home and you said your goodbyes; promising to visit them early in the morning, eager to pay them back for their help.

You laid down in your bed and another laugh slipped past your lips as you stared lazily at the ceiling.

The best part was that this trial didn't just affect you - hopefully it gave thousands of other citizens the courage to rightfully take justice into their hands, having been servants of that filthy immoral family for so long.

This meant everything. You could already picture in your mind as the royal family was taken down by the public. Their power and members growing weaker as the years passed by, until they completely seized to exist.

Knock, Knock, Knock

You groaned and squirmed out of bed to go to the front door. Opening it, you were met with two unfamiliar faces. Two tall men dressed in suits, your eyes widened - royal suits.

You tried to slam the door shut but they were quicker, putting a foot down in between and forcing themselves inside.

There wasn't anywhere for you to run to, they closed the distance between you in mere seconds and your scream was muffled by the bag being forcefully put over your head.

You screamed silently again as several blows were delivered to your head, a lone tear sliding down your cheek before you passed out completely, engulfed in darkness.

*******

'' Y/n? ''

You fluttered your eyes open, being met with the cold stone floor. The world was tipped and it took some time for your eyes to adjust to the new room.

With the help of the man in front of you, you were now sat upright which made you get a good view of who it was.

'' Did you miss me? '' a childish like grin was plastered onto the handsome face of the man you had seen just about an hour ago in court, the prince.

'' Jungkook? '' you said, voice hoarse.

He hummed, turning his back on you.

At that moment, you didn't feel scared quite yet. It felt more like a sarcastic and humourless smile was about to escape from you, like - of course, of course this was bound to happen.

You had tried to take down the most powerful family of your country, all on your own and you really thought it would work?

Jungkook seemed to read your thoughts as he scoffed when he faced you again.

'' Regretting your choices now, huh? ''

You shook your head, biting your lip so hard blood almost showed. He smiled. A hand ruffling your hair caught you by surprise, making your eyes widen.

'' I bet you felt so happy in that moment, all proud '' he was up on his feet again, pacing with what appeared to be a dagger in his hands.

'' But things aren't as easy as you scums seem to think '' you struggled against the ropes on your wrists upon his insult, face growing hot.

'' It doesn't work like that '' the prince came closer now, crouching down and he pointed casually at you with his dagger as if it was only an index finger and not a murder weapon.

'' Did you really think that I- Jeon Jungkook, would go to prison because of some pathetic low life, like you? ''

He shook his head, looking nauseuous, as if the mere thought of such a thing happening made him want to empty his whole stomach on the stone floor beneath him.

You held the eye-contact he now initiated, confidently.

'' Did you actually think you stood a chance against me? '' he half-whispered, in a low tone.

His eyes looked like he wanted to tear you apart right then and there, and it was getting hard to stay so confident under his stare now.

'' I- '' but you bit your tongue, falling silent as you weren't sure what to say.

The prince laughed sardonically.

'' That's what I thought ''

The dagger was waved towards you again and you flinched without meaning to, your tough facade slowly breaking down as the reality of you being here locked up with the country's biggest psychopath finally dawned on you.

'' What do you want from me? Revenge? '' you managed to choke out.

His hands were nowhere near your throat yet it felt like he was suffocating you slowly with his eyes alone.

Jungkook briefly looked towards your red lips, licking his own while seemingly being in deep thought.

'' Revenge, yeah ''

'' Then kill me, quickly. I have nothing to lose ''

The prince had to stop himself from laughing out loud at your bold statement, he only grinned while his body shook from silent laughter.

'' No ''

'' What? '' your voice was shaky now, it sounded like you were on the verge of tears, which perhaps you were. You felt like you couldn't stand one more minute together with this psycho, and would rather quickly invite death now.

'' I said, no- '' his stern tone and icy glare made you flinch back, head hitting the wall behind you as he got closer yet again.

His hand reached up to caress the back of your head and you squirmed in his grasp uncomfortably.

'' The judge promised me I'd have you, as my...revenge '' a boyish grin replaced the glare he had worn just seconds ago.

Somehow you preferred the stoic look much more. You tried pushing yourself away from him but there was nowhere to go.

'' You tried to take me down but you failed, and they promised me you'd be mine in return '' Jungkook's hand pet your head now, almost as if he didn't see you as a human.

You wanted to die, sink through the ground in embarrassment - anything to escape his tainted hands touching you in any way.

'' I would never kill you, that would be an easy escape. Wouldn't it, darling? '' he hummed, head tilting as his graceful fingers found your jawline to force you to look at him now.

Those doe eyes, that looked so innocent and so sweet. But ones that had in reality been the last thing many had seen before he plunged that beautiful dagger he was twisting in his hands, into their flesh.

#yandere jungkook #yandere kpop #kpopidol #kpop boys #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop ff #jeon jungkook #kpop yandere #jungkook x reader #bts ffs #bts fantasy au #yandere bts #bts x reader

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sashi-ya · 7 months

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ~ 𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚 & 𝑽𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂 🍯

𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎, 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤkuchiki byakuya x f! reader

𝐓𝐖: mdni. 18+. usage of aphrodisiacs. vag sex. needy byakuya. food play. 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞.- some requested more of aphrodisiacs for my baby boy Byaku so here it is. I thought that a whole new fic would be better so enjoy! 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.- @byakuyandaizenwifey

“No, we can’t do that. Kuchiki Taicho will kill me” “He won’t never know. Byakuya needs some fun, and he won’t ever take the first step if we don’t help him. Plus Urahara-san told us it was safe” “God protect us”

It’s been time since the war against the Quincy had passed. The Soul Society slowly restored every crumb that’s been destroyed. Some married and even had kids. And everything was changing, including Byakuya’s world… once again.

A beautiful woman had come into his life, leaving the unbreakable captain speechless whenever she joined the barracks of squad six. Her hair, her hips, everything about her was making his legs weaker… and his nights a sweaty mess of neediness.

It was clear both liked each other. He invited her to have dinner at the Kuchiki manor, even if none of them would be hungry. Byakuya started living alone again the moment Rukia married Renji, so this time he had no problem to invite a woman over. However, never once his hands reached for hers in more than a friendly way…

Not until that sweet, sticky night…

“Kuchiki-sama, thank you for inviting me to join you during dinner. I adore the style and décor of your manor” you murmur, always so formal and sophisticated. You were the angel anyone in that family would love for Byakuya to remarry. Perhaps you were not a noble, but not a poor woman either. You had class, and he was amazed by your duality; a beast with the zanpakuto, a princess the rest of the time.

“The pleasure is all mine, (Name). Please, take a seat. We will be served then” he utters, always so straightfowardly and yet with a soft tremble deep down his voice. Byakuya loved the way your lips named him “Captain” but more when you adressed him as a noble leader.

You could sense spiritual pressures that were all well known to you, and you suspected to him too. However, Byakuya never mentioned the presence of Renji nor Kurosaki at his manor during that night. In any case, you didn’t consider it important giving the situation; having the most handsome man of all seireitei hosting a dinner just for you and him was enough to your attention.

You sat properly on a big chair made out of the finest wood; his gloved hands softly grazing the backrest and with it just a tiny tip of his nail grazing your naked shoulder.

His spiritual pressure was strong, overwhelming, cold and hot at the same time. It made your legs to become all bouncy, almost as if he himself had an aphrodisiac effect on you.

You bite just a tiny piece of your lower lip, and pray for your perfume with hints of honey and vanilla to reach his perfect straight nose. Maybe he is not into sweet, sugary stuff… but he is clearly into you.

Byakuya sat down exactly in front of you; And as he didm the protruding collar bones that he started showing more and more at certain point, flashed you.

A sigh wanted to scape your insides, but it wouldn’t have been proper… Maybe some other night.

A maid, whose presence is barely aknowledged by Byakuya, came in and served you the drinks. You didn’t even care about the contents, was it wine? Who cared.

“I wanted to discuss something with you, (Name). Of course I enjoy your company, but this time I have yet another purpose” he informed you, leaving you breathless. Byakuya’s back straightened, he bent a little forward with thin, soft fingers loosely interlocked.

You blinked twice, slowly, trying to keep yourself together as your pupils fixed on the way his lips slightly parted. What is it that he wants to discuss?

“Sure, Kuchiki-sama. Please, go ahead” you politely answered back, crossing your legs, pressing them harder one against the other.

Byakuya closed his eyes, so peacefully before saying anything else, just to open them again to pierce your soul with the blue shades of his irises.

“Your performance and efficiency has been outstanding lately, and I personally consider you should be promoted to a higher rank” he said, taking a sip of his cup. You felt the world in slow motion, and noticed even the way his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed the bevarage.

Honestly, you didn’t mind the rank but if going higher meant being near Byakuya you were absolutely pleased to accept the proposal.

“I am flattered, Kuchiki-sama. I would take the place you consider it best for my habilities. I trust in your leadership skills, as I consider you to be the best captain of all Gotei 13” you communicated back, knowing damn well the praising was needed when talking to such a vain -with the right to be- man.

A soft scoff came from Byakuya’s throat. He was beyond pleased. And with the snap of his fingers two maids appeared out of nowhere with the first plate of such luxurious dinner.

“Very well, then we need to inform the rest of the squad and Sou taicho about your change in positions. From tomorrow morning you will be taking the third spot, immediately under Lieutenant Abarai” he said, allowing to be serviced.

You widened your eyes; third spot… that wasn’t exactly what you were expecting… It was way more than you did. You smiled and bowed your head in signs of respect. In less than twelve hours and after some barely months of graduating from the Shinigami accademy you were occupying the third more important charge in the noble house of squad six. And that was amazing.

The platters in front of you two showed a sophisticated gourmet creation you weren’t sure what it was, but in any case it looked delicious. Both, pleased, grabbed the first bite. And instantly, you could see Byakuya’s frowning intensifying.

The honey covering gave the meat a very soft sweet gloss, however the salty taste reververated the most in your tongue. You closed your eyes instantly after the first bite; the way it melted in your mouth was ambrosial.

Byakuya, whose taste preferences weren’t exactly sweet things, felt surprised as this time he was craving for more of that honey sauce. His delicate hands reached for the sauceboat and added several times more and more over the plate.

You had never seen Byakuya eat that way, but the more he ate the more he began to forget his noble manners. It was interesting to see how his cheeks become red as he chewed, and a little drop of sweat garnished his right temple.

“Kuchiki-sama, are you alright?” you asked, risking yourself to sound disrespectful.

Byakuya swallowed the last piece of meat - bigger than it should have been for a bite – and fixed his eyes on yours. He looked fearless, as if something powerful had taken over his body.

“Ye- yes. Is a little bit hot in here, right? Isn’t it (Name)?” he stuttered, a little bit troubled and definetly showing traces of sweat pooling in between the place where his collar bones met.

“I… I am fine- it’s a little bit humid today, but… are you sure you are feeling well? Besides the heat? Maybe a fever?” you questioned, standing up almost on your own. You wouldn’t do it in any other way, but he was showing signs of being unwell.

As you walked towards him, he remained sitted and swallowing. There was sweat on top of his long lashes, and his breathing seemed a little accelerated.

You bent a little, right next to him, to inspect him from a closer position but his delicate -not so delicate- hands grabbed your hips in a snatching motion that left you gasping.

“I… can’t take it no more… I need- you” he murmured, placing his cheek on your lower belly. You could feel the way his sweat dampened your fine silky dress, and your hands immediately cupped his head to give him some comfort.

“What do you need, Kuchiki-sama? You want me to call the doctors?” you desperately asked, taking a swift look at the growing bulge on his crotch.

Byakuya pulled you closer, burying his nose into your belly to inhale the scent of your skin. He shaked his head, ruffling his long black hair against your clothes, looking like a kid. “No, no doctors. I am ok, but- I need… I need to… I need your body, (Name)” he pleaded, muzzled.

His hands were gripped tightly to your fabrics, pulling almost in an attempt of undressing you, painfully in heat.

“Byakuya-sama, you want my body? How much you want my body?” you said, taking a little advantage of his current state. How shamefull, how immoral.

He looked up, like a puppy, crying for something that usually would never asked for. “More than anything. I am dying, I am burning. I always wanted you, but now… I can’t stop myself… Please…” he begged, as you passed your index and thumb to lift his chin up.

A smirk garnished your face. You were convinced it was all a dream, you would never see a man like him pleading for sex so pathetically and yet so beautifully.

You let him go, walking backwards. You checked nobody would be around and untied the fine ribbon that hold your dress up. The fabric slid down your skin, which was also burning, to reveal the dessert Byakuya had been requesting.

His pupils almost took over his entire eye. There was just a tiny halo of blue around them. Trembling, he attempted to stand up from his chair, pitifuly failing.

You giggled sweetly, not even a virginal teenager could act this way on his first time. But you suspected there had to be something promoting him to act the way he was acting. You were sure it was not just your natural appeal.

“Byakuya-sama, you liked the honey sauce don’t you?” you murmured, talking to him like he was some kind of creature with little to no understanding.

He nodded and from his lips you could almost see the steam of his heated, accelerated breathing.

“Very good, then… would you like to eat more of it?” you asked, bending over the table to pick the sauce and pour it all over the lands of your nudity.

In a matter of seconds, and as he focused on the dripping honey coming from your breasts, he pounced on you. His lips crashing against the commisure of your mouth, were the first drop had fallen. And then, coming down, like a beast, licking all the extents of your tender flesh.

For a moment, he allowed the honey to fall in form of strings directly from your erected nipples. He felt like a God, feeding off the eternal youth fountain. Ambrosial taste, that it was not only sweet and a little spicy but it also smelt like a vanilla delight.

He then proceeded to bite, leaving the imprints of his teeth all over your breasts, sucking, making your legs quiver. You reacted with deep breaths, squeaks and lovely moans that turned him harder and harder.

“You smell… you taste… delicious” he grunted, before being able to finally stand up from his chair.

And when Kuchiki Byakuya tops you, it instantly makes you submit to such a supreme depiction of a man. Your eyes, looked up at him whose stare become almost demonic.

“I am not sure what you did to me, but I will fuck you until you can’t walk” he spat, leaving you speachless and wondering if you would had the chance to listen to those words coming out from his mouth ever again.

You shook your head, trying to deny it was your fault. But in any case it wouldn’t matter, as he pushed you back against the table. Finest porcelain getting on the verge of destruction while your body falls over it.

“Spread, officer” he commanded, owning a soft scoff coming from your mouth. Thing he probably felt like an offense or maybe as if it was too much for his aching sex to take.

His fingernails carved into your cheeks, making your mouth pout as he let his hakama pants fall down the floor. “Is it funny to you, (Name)?” he asked, panting in between your spread folds.

“Is not funny, Byakuya… I want you inside me, badly” you purred, snaking your right leg around his tiny waist to pull him closer to your crotch.

He flashed the most beautiful -and perversed- side smirk with his eyes closed that you could had ever had the right to seen. And while pumping his dripping, aching sex, he smeared the rests of honey sauce right from his fingers into your lips.

His mouth crashed against yours, eating right from your lips the sweet elixir that drove him crazy. Tongues danced, in concupiscent ways he might never experienced before.

Alone, and by itself, his sex searched for your entrance. Desperate to feel the pressure of warming receiving walls, sliding inside without asking for permission.

His tip forced its way in, staying for painful ambrosial moments pushing over your pleasure spot, making you grip tightly to the finest tablecloth. Lips muzzled, breathing through the little spacings that barely appear in between them. Byakuya’s long strands grazing your shoulders, and the stickiness of your skins mixing with your sweaty bodies.

His hips moving slower to faster, mercilessly fucking you as rough as he promised to. Biting each other’s necks, inhaling the scent of honey and vanilla, melting on each other’s embrace. Coming once, twice and even three times more before continuing on the shower…

What was it that took you to finally succumb to mutual desire? Why so all of a sudden?

“Renji, Urahara sent me a text, it says that you had to put a teaspoon of the powder in half a liter of honey” Ichigo said, before leaving the kitchen of the Kuchiki manor. “A…… tablespoon?” Renji replied, looking right at the empty container of such interesting substance. “HOW MUCH?” “THE WHOLE JAR…” “She wont be able to walk tomorrow morning…”

And they were right, the promotion to third spot had been postoponed until late that week… 🍯🌸

#〰🌸 Bleach Fridays #byakuya kuchiki x reader #kuchiki byakuya x reader #byakuya x reader #byakuya kuchiki imagine #byakuya x you #kuchiki byakuya #byakuya kuchiki x you #kuchiki byakuya x you #byakuya #kuchiki byakuya imagine #byakuya kuchiki #bleach #bleach headcanons #bleach imagines #bleach byakuya #bleach x reader #bleach anime #bleach fanart

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creature-wizard · 8 months

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Man, witchtok and witchbook sure do love the narrative that Christianity stole everything from them, huh?

So I see that you asked a mutual of mine the same question, while also asking what can be done about this problem. Since said mutual suggested that you come to me for advice here, that's what I'll post.

First of all, understand that this is nothing new. this has always been a popular narrative among neopagans, because it gives people a narrative in which they can frame and talk about their grievances with society. "The Catholic Church stole Christmas" isn't factually true, but it's easier to learn and spread than advanced socioeconomics. People believing this stuff is not a personal failing. It's a consequence of systemic failure. We live in an information crisis, with conservatives effectively sabotaging education at every turn and algorithmic feeds designed to serve up whatever will get the most clicks, not what's most accurate.

The problem, therefore, must be addressed systemically. This means participating in politics, voting on whatever elections you can vote on, spreading relative political news, whatever. Do whatever you can do keep the GOP out of power or from gaining more power. Get involved in political activism circles if you aren't already.

You can also put out your own information to counter the misinformation, and boost or promote good info. Work with the limitations of social media - short, memeable content is always more likely to spread.

When you catch yourself wanting to complain about something you hate, try to find a way to transform it into praise for something you love. Like instead of complaining about people who post misinformation about the goddess Aphrodite, find some cool facts about Aphrodite to post instead.

When you're creating educational content of any kind, follow this very simple guideline: don't shit on the dinner table. That is, don't mix big ranting gripes in with content meant to educate the masses. If you got a big gripe to get out of your system, put that gripe in its own space.

When you do have to address incorrect beliefs specifically, try to avoid shaming believers, because not only does it not work, it's just unnecessary cruelty. Nobody misinforms themselves on purpose. Nobody wants to be a bad person. What we have are a lot of people suffering from systemic fuckery and just want to not feel sad, scared, and helpless, because feeling that way hurts.

(This post is an example of how I took something frustrating and put a positive spin on it. I wrote it when I was feeling pissy about the kinds of problems you mention in your message.)

Prepare to deal with the same misinformation a lot. Like not just intellectually and emotionally, but physically - create FAQs, masterposts, whatever. It can get really frustrating trying to deal with that stuff a million times, but the reality is that there are billions of people in the world and they're making new ones every day.

Keep a list of resources on hand that you can share with people you're talking to, depending on what they're searching for. The fewer steps/resources that are needed to access said resource, the better. Keep a list of podcasts, scholars with YouTube channels, blogs with good information, whatever, that you can just suggest to people looking for info.

And finally, take care of yourself. If you find yourself wanting to rip people's throats out or something, it's time to take a break and focus on yourself.

#answered #witchcraft #education #misinformation

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she-karev · 25 days

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Pregnant (One Shot Request

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of Two

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

AN: Hey guys I see you liked my last post and I got a one-shot request to do another time skip for Amber and DeLuca. I hope you guys like it and I’m up for one shot requests if you have any. I'll try to post part two by Wednesday.

Summary: Amber gets bored during maternity leave and texts Andrew who comes over.

Words: 1741

October 20, 2022

I sit crisscross on the king bed making a lazy raspberry sound as I flip through the pages of Watchmen. Graphic novels aren’t what I usually read but I got desperate after finishing the whole shelf of books in the study. I’ve read everything from classics like Jane Eyre to new releases like Iron Widow. After that I asked Levi for a recommendation and he immediately dropped off this huge comic book. The art is good, the storyline is surprisingly relevant to society’s political landscape and the characters are interesting. But it has barely kept me from chronic boredom that comes from maternity leave or as I like to call it, maternity prison.

My little sidekick is in her eighth month of gestation and it’s pretty evident to anyone with eyes given how I look like Pluto. If Pluto had boobs and was wearing her husband’s Harvard shirt with gray sweatpants. After the New Year I told Andrew that I was ready for us to start trying to have a baby. The pandemic was over, I was caught up in my residency thanks to Webber and Andrew was finally back in the O.R. as a general surgery attending. The timing couldn’t be better and around March we found out we were pregnant and then a few months later we found out we were having a girl. There was a bump when the residency program shut down for a bit but it restarted with a new batch of interns and me being promoted to Chief Resident.

Unfortunately, that joy was short lived, I had to go on maternity leave about a few weeks later when the exhaustion kicked in at 35 weeks and I’ve been glued to the bed ever since. And to make matters worse Levi was assigned temporary Chief Resident so that was another cloud looming over my head. The only thing that keeps me somewhat sane in this bed is my husband and baby daddy coming home and detailing every step of his surgeries so I don’t become dumb. Which is why I sent an impulsive text that I’m sure will make Andrew angry at me.

I hear running out in the hall and the door bursts open revealing Andrew in his navy scrubs and blue fleece telling me he came straight here the second he got my text. He looks around worried until he finds me criss cross in the middle of the bed looking healthy as a clam despite my text saying 911. I grin at him trying to look innocent so he doesn’t get too mad at me for worrying him because I was bored and needed contact with the outside world.

“Hi honey.” I greet him normally and he looks at me in shock before confusion sets in his face and I explain, “I might have possibly fibbed in my text don’t be mad.”

“You-” Andrew groans frustrated before laying it out, “You texted me 911.”

“I know.” I take a sip of my water bottle as Andrew walks to the edge of the bed staring down at me clearly peeved.

“I came straight here from work because my very pregnant wife texted me 911 and I was afraid she was in labor or bleeding out. But instead, I find her in bed chilling and acting like she didn’t almost give me a heart attack!” I wince at the exclamation, “God Amber what is wrong that you have to scare me like that?”

“I can’t be held accountable.” Andrew scoffs at my excuse and I continue, “I can’t be held accountable for my misguided actions because your baby and me have gone insane from bed rest and boredom. Will it make you feel better if I said sorry for almost scaring you to death?”

Andrew’s face softens slightly, “Well I think the knots in your hair are punishment enough so yes.”

I look in the vanity mirror to my left and see that my normally composed blonde hair is all over the place due to laying on my pillow for 10 hours. I look back and see my husband grinning amused already past his anger and I frown at that, “Yeah that’s right laugh at your pregnant wife who has permanent bed head let’s see how that ends for you.”

I stand on my knees and crawl over to the edge to face Andrew who chuckles while I pout, “Okay in all seriousness is there a logical reason why you texted me 911 when there is nothing emergent?”

“I’m bored out of my freaking mind.” I explain bordering on yelling while Andrew is looking at me affectionately with his bright green eyes, “I’ve been at home for five weeks, five weeks, do you have any idea what that is like?!”

“I have a feeling your gonna tell me.” Andrew puts his hands on my hips to keep me steady.

I hold up Watchmen to prove my point of how bored I am, “I’ve read all the books in our shelves I always say I’m gonna finish, I tried watching Netflix but you know it just makes me miss human contact more and to top it off while I’m shackled to this bed like that lady in Gerald’s Game my husband is at work saving lives and actually making a difference because unlike me he doesn’t have a big bowling ball under his shirt. And I think the baby is bored too and she sent that text because she’s hungry for more of your surgery stories and a reminder that there’s a world outside this bed. She’s very stubborn about what she wants.”

“She takes after her mother.” Andrew quips in amused and I narrow my eyes at him causing him to chuckle, “Look I know it’s hard being cooped up in here but you heard what the OB said bedrest is important and you were reaching your limit. I had to practically carry you out of the on-call room when I found you passed out after your lap chole.” I groan at that memory because it’s when I admitted I was exhausted and ordered to go on leave until after the baby was born, “You were doing the work of eight people it’s not good for your stamina and it would’ve affected the baby too.”

“You don’t know that.” He raises an eyebrow at me and I continue, “I’m like an M1-A1, it’s a tank and it can survive anything and get the job done.” I look down at my huge belly pouting at my changing body, “I mean I’m already as big as a tank right now and my bikini days are getting narrower by the minute.”

“I never really liked bikini’s anyway.” He’s trying to console me again which he always does when I complain about how big I’m getting, “You look way better in that sweater than some tacky string.”

“Stop being nice, you know my hormones make me unpredictable.” I remind him again, “The nicer you are the more it makes me want to choke hold you.”

“In that case you look like a bloated whale.” Andrew jokes and it doesn’t amuse me at all, “Better?”

“Not in the least.” I sigh and wrap my arms around the back of Andrew’s neck and say sweetly, “Just stay here and tell me stories about life on the outside.” I run my fingers through his wavy hair to add effect but it doesn’t work. He looks enticed but he’s gotten stronger against my seductions over the years.

“I can’t, I have a surgery this afternoon.” He steps back to my disappointment, “Plus I gotta help Marsh with the skills lab for the interns while Hunt is in the ER. And as much as I want to, I can’t stay here because your bored or Grey will reprimand me. Find something to do while I’m working so the time will pass by and you won’t be so bored.”

Suddenly a light bulb goes off in my head on how I can keep myself busy, “Your right.”

He exhales in relief and turns to leave, “Thank god I’ll see you tonight, I love you.”

“Oh no I’m coming with you; you’re taking me to work.” I get off the bed, go to our closet and put a black coat over my clothes and slip into my black crocs. I can see Andrew turning to face me again with an annoyed look.

“That is not happening babe.” He tells me bluntly but I don’t listen as I grab my purse, “Okay you and the baby need to listen to me. I am not taking you two to a hospital with the germs and blood and diseases it’s not happening I’m putting my foot down.”

I widen my eyes at that and he emphasizes by crossing his arms against his chest, “I’m just gonna watch from the gallery and catch up with my friends and see if Schmitt is still alive. It’s not like I’m getting a scalpel come on man.”

Andrew stands his ground, “Nope still not happening, if you want new books order on Amazon and get express, I don’t care about the price as long as it keeps you in bed and following doctor’s orders.”

“I’m a doctor, you’re a doctor, our siblings are doctors and all of our friends are doctors. I’m pretty sure we both know what’s safe and not safe for me and the baby too.” I remind him, “A hospital is the best place for me to kill time because if I go into labor, I just have to walk five steps to a bed in OB. Please take me with you, think of it like take your daughter to work day.”

He looks at my belly and back up at me, “I think we’re a little early for that.”

“Take me with you.” I sternly command.

“No.” Andrew says with finality causing me to narrow my eyes at him as he keeps a composed face. I mimic his stance crossing my arms across my chest and glaring at him to assert dominance. Even in my condition I stand as his equal and he knows it, he knows I won’t go down without a fight so he has to do the same. We stand there silently for a few moments, me in my pajamas and him in his scrubs, waiting for one of us to budge.

#greys anatomy #greysanatomyedit #greysedit #grey's anatomy #amber karev #andrew deluca #elizabeth gillies #liz gillies #giacomo gianniotti #headcanon #oneshot #one shot request

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glitterguts13 · 19 days

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Dr Ratio/Aventurine/Sunday with pregnant Aventurine, with all three trying to do right by each other and their baby after everything that went down in the Penacony storyline (I don't know how it'll end but let's just pretend everything works out)

It's been a week and I still haven't emotionally recovered from 2.1 I need Hoyo to stop hurting my babies, please, and thank.

(JK I love the pain)

Seventeen system hours.

That day felt so long ago now, but it still sits heavy on everyone's mind. Ratio, ever the rational one, wanted to talk about it, get everything out in the open and to fix things because the good doctor didn't leave problems unsolved.

Sunday didn't take the same approach, because ackowling the issue meant acknowledging how he'd hurt and almost killed their lover. How close he had been to taking away the brightest light in their lives and he couldn't do it. Instead, he spends their time together lavishing his partners with gifts and spoils but still keeping a safe emotional distance.

While Aventurine waves it off, saying it is fine, he doesn't care, all that matters is that things worked out at the end, even if he still woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat and violently trembling from the nightmare of having the Harmony dug deep into his aching brain.

Seventeen system hours.

It was hard to believe it had happened at all, or that they still hadn't managed how to talk about it without one or all of them ending up so heated they needed to walk away.

"Veritas, you're crushing me." Aventunine grumbles under his breath, feeling the scholar's tight arms wrapped around him while they prepare for a dinner party that evening. The doctor mumbles something he can't make out before loosening his grip.

"You always hold me like I'm about to disappear," he says it as a joke, but the way Ratio goes still behind him makes Aventurine's heartache deep.

"I didn't mean-"

"Quiet." a trail of kisses is left down the back of the blond's neck and over his bare shoulders.

"Are you almost ready?" the click of Sunday's shoes alerts the pair before he turns the corner to their room. Aventurine hears the breath catch in his lover's throat, and Ratio quickly releases his hold.

"You look...divine." Sunday struggles to find a word powerful enough to describe his beautiful lover, but it is nearly impossible. The garment left his shoulders exposed, but draped softly around his arms and dipped low at his chest. The cloth hugged the curve of his swollen belly, his hands resting gently atop it. A faint blush creeps over his cheeks, unable to look away.

"I don't remember purchasing that for you."

"Because you didn't. Robin did. Not that I need either of you to buy me things." none of the three could be described as anything short of idiotically wealthy, but Sunday and Ratio always insisted on spoiling Aventurine regardless. Not that he minded at all.

"She's excited for tonight." Sunday quirks a small smile, something he'd started doing a lot more recently with Robin having returned to his life.

"That makes one of us," Aventurine grumbles, tugging at his sleeve and adjusting the hem of his top.

Ratio places a hand on his shoulder, and Sunday steps closer, cupping the blond's face with his hands.

"You don't need to be worried. Everyone will love you."

Aventurine snorts, eyes darting to avoid Sunday's eyes.

"The family was less than thrilled to find out, I can imagine 'polite society' will be even less understanding of you having a child with a-" he stops himself, mouth snapping shut and eyes squeezing closed.

"Aven, I love you," Sunday pauses, glancing up to meet Ratio's eyes, "We love you. All of you. Every part of you." Ratio's thumb graces over the brand on Aventurine's neck, and he shutters.

"Other people will not be so understanding. If it was only me, I couldn't be assed to care but our baby is going to be the center of attention and the target of so much-"

"And if anyone so much as looks at you wrong, I'll have their heads." it isn't an empty threat, and it only causes Aventurine to shutter once more.

"You are not facing anything alone. Not anymore." Ratio wraps his arms around his lover's waist, large hands resting over the taunt bump. Sunday joins him, gently running soothing circles where their unborn child slept.

"You two are impossible, you know that?" the men chuckle, Sunday coming to meet Aventurine's mouth with a deep kiss, and Ratio's lips working their way back across his neck. The blond moans, shivering and pulling away from their touches.

"If you don't knock it off we're going to be late."

Sunday laughs, and Ratio rolls his eyes.

"Very well, we'll simply finish this when we return home tonight."

#mpreg #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr aventurine #dr ratio #hsr sunday #aventurine #soft

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secretmellowblog · 8 months

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What are your favourite pathetic Javert moments? I read your post, and now I'm curious

(CONTEXT: a while back I made a post where I jokingly promised to list my top ten pathetic Javert moments. It is finally that time. Thank you anon and @revolutionaeternam.)

I had trouble writing this post because there are way too many moments in the Brick where Javert is a horribly pathetic creature. So here are the Top Eleven Pathetic Javert Moments I Am Currently Thinking About: #11:

“This man was at the barricade,” said he in a low voice and as though speaking to himself. “He is the one they called Marius.” A spy of the first quality, who had observed everything, listened to everything, and taken in everything, even when he thought that he was to die; who had played the spy even in his agony, and who, with his elbows leaning on the first step of the sepulchre, had taken notes.

This line really encapsulates the tragic pathetic side of Javert for me. His entire existence is built on mindless groveling and performing useless tasks in the service of an authority that does not respect him and never will. He is the kind of person who will waste his last hours alive pointlessly ‘taking notes’ no one will read simply because it is what he has been ordered to do, and he cannot disobey orders.

#10. The entire “Punish me, Monsieur Le Maire” scene. No explanation needed.

#9. Every moment when Javert expresses vehement hatred for some random inoffensive thing that no reasonable person would ever hate. (Ex. Thinking, kindness, facts, books, stoves, etc.)

#8: Javert recognizing Eponine's body right before his execution, and saying “It strikes me that I know that girl.” The Javert/Eponine parallels, and that way Javert-Eponine are the failed “shadows” of Valjean-Cosette....

#7. Every time Javert is compared to a dog. It’s always easier to feel sorry for a furry.

#6. The moment when the National Guard has an opportunity to trade Jehan’s life for Javert’s --and doesn't. (And Enjolras telling Javert that "your friends have just shot you.") Like? The way Javert is serving a society that does not value his life; the way the National Guard could have easily rescued him, but didn’t know or care that he had been captured! And the fact that "your friends have just shot you" is immediately followed by Eponine, Javert’s narrative foil, dying of a bullet wound as she begs for attention from a man who doesn't even recognize her...the way both Javert and Eponine made themselves the “guard dogs” of someone/something that barely remembers they exist...

#5. All of Javert’s behavior at the barricade in general, and the way it parallels Jean Valjean's behavior. It’s fascinating how Javert acts so similar to the way Jean Valjean acted while captured by Thenardier — they both ‘do not utter a single cry,’ and remain utterly calm even when tied to a post awaiting death. They are superficially polite, save for a few passive-aggressive insults. It’s one of the few moments where you see “oh yeah, Javert was born in a prison, and like Jean Valjean he’s learned how to 'properly' behave in situations where he's trapped and has no autonomy, to the point where it’s second nature for him.” Fanfic writers often portray the barricade as uniquely traumatizing for Javert, but the sad thing is that Javert is pretty “eh this is just Tuesday for me” about it until Jean Valjean saves his life.

#4. Javert’s inability to lie at the barricades. He cannot lie to save his life. At the barricade they ask him who he is and he responds “my name’s Javert and I’m a cop.” Who made this man a spy???? Why did they did they send HIM on the spying mission???

#3. Javert IS SO BAD at lying I'm putting it on this list twice. 2012 Les Mis Fandom often liked to make Javert a ~closed book who secretly has a soft heart and hidden depths~ but to me…, one of the most pathetic things about Javert is that what you see is what you get. He is physically incapable of pretending to believe things he does not believe or feel things he does not feel. He’s described as someone whose eyes are so clear you can see the very depths of his conscience in them. Javert can be stoic and level-headed while dealing with severe emotions, but he cannot lie, and the one time he attempts to lie (“I will wait for you here”) he’s so bad at it that even a very distracted Jean Valjean notices something is off. And idk, to me it seems like there can be a really painful vulnerability to that.

#2. “You annoy me. Kill me rather.” ICONIC. And the tu/vous switch that happens here, where Javert is trying to act harsh toward Valjean but is incapable of concealing the fact that he’s developed a new terrifying respect for him!! Because he is a terrible liar! Something is wrong with him. <3 The entire 'execution' scene is a beautiful farce.

#1. This is cheating but: everything involving Javert's final confrontation with Jean Valjean after the barricades, including all of Derailed. These brief chapters are the only time when we see how a doubt-ridden post-barricades Javert interacts with other people, especially Jean Valjean, and it’s all deeply pitiable. His characterization in these chapters is fascinating, and is almost never captured in any adaptations. He isn’t shouting at Valjean or violently threatening him with death; for the first time he’s lost, wandering, and uncertain, speaking "as if in a dream" and passively allowing Jean Valjean to decide where they go and what they do. It's Javert at his most wet and pathetic. Javert sees Jean Valjean and is torn between feeling like quote "the wolf which regains its grip on its prey and the dog that finds its master again...." and he deals with that by Bluescreening. I have this theory that Javert is at his most 'likable' when he has the least power. When Javert has power, he is terrifying. But when he's powerless, when he’s been “declawed," when he's incapable of doing harm, he's just this strange pitiable Creature. And these last chapters are peak Declawed Javert.

#les mis #javert #javert doesn't have 'good qualities' just a lot of pathetic ones really #people think i hate javert but i dont..........#ive been called a 'javert hater' but i am not #i love Brick Javert for the horrible cruel Creature he is #i don't need him to be a 'handsome charismatic antihero'#he can just be a hideous wolfdog cube #he did learn ACAB in the end and that counts for something #idk if this is post is coherent XD

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chainelunaire · 1 year

Text

“you really don’t need that.“

touya smiles at you. him smiling is a rare occasion, and it’s usually not out of joy, rather mockery. he never laughed at you, like, directly in your face, and yet you still know he finds you ridiculous. when he actually needs to acknowledge your existence, which is quiet often, sadly.

“like, right fucking now or in general?”

“in general it’s your ‘right fucking now’.”

“that’s rich. i’m not gonna agree on that. now, take the money, i don’t have that much time.”

he never does, by the way.

not that you care that much - see, surviving on the streets is a whole thing, and you’re not that naive or kindhearted as he may see you. you’re doing it for far more than he can ever imagine, and you do good because you provide something everyone needs here. you’re one of the lucky ones - if you really, really wanted, you could become a decent member of a society. maybe even a hero.

yet, you’re not a hero. far from one - if we talk about book-like heroes. you have a lot of clients, and some of them are heroes - you know very well, they don’t do heroic shit with buying from you, but you don’t judge. heroes have some good money, they’re great clients - dutiful, polite and they pay in cash. they’re a lot better than poor angry scum, like small villains or angry homeless kids.

touya is an interesting case for sure: you know you’re not the only one he’s buying pills from, and you’re not blind, you see why he needs it so badly. his rotting flesh - violent purple on some places, and still kinda pinkish on others - is his very obvious reason why he wants every painkiller in a city. with how much he needs, he alone would probably suck your quirk dry, only if you’d let him to, so you don’t. you’re friendly with him - you’re poilte with all of your clients - and you let him mock you, smile at you, but still, you charge the guns. not your problem sometimes he forgets that.

and again, even if you’re asking some stupid questions, everyone generally let you be, because you have the powder, and they don’t, so who’s the real boss here? touya, for example, hates to be asked - what’s his real name (touya is his real name), where’s he from (he was too high to answer, and later you just dropped the subject alltogether), how old is he (he hadn’t answered that one) - he hates shit like that, but he told you almost everything you wanted to know, because you have the pills, and he doesn’t. you’re making rules here.

so he can smile all he want, but here’s the real threat, and he feels it - you may actually not be in the mood to give him pills, and this is bad, very-very bad. you need cash, of course, but you don’t need it that badly, you know? you have enough. it’s friday, late in the night, he called you not on the schedule, and you may be slightly pissed, because all you wanted was a peaceful night, not his usual shenanigans.

for once, he’s right.

“nah, i spare” you say, stepping back under a roof of a night club, where you usually spend your friday evenings. “g’nite”.

“wait” you turn back to him - he’s a bit angry, you think. “that’s not what we agreed upon”.

“of course not, since you stalked me here out of the blue” it’s your turn to smile - you afraid it might look a bit wolfish with how annoyed you are, “you should be grateful i talked to you. i don’t have anything on me right now anyway and i want to rest.”

“c’mon, make it. i’ll pay you double”

“sounds nice, but still no” something changes in his attitude. you’re so calm and he knows you’re not playing. you’re not that type of person - he thinks you’re naive, but he also knows for sure you don’t do anything you don’t want to do. and your quirk, while being so handy, is very tiresome. that’s the core reason why you busy being here and not being a decent member of a society - you help only on your terms and only if you want. he can’t change your mind, not really.

“my, my, you look horrified, don’t you have a backup plan?” you’re starting to worry because now he’s shivering, studying his hands in almost horror. you feel a bit bad - you know that he really needs it.

but it’s none of your business at the end of the day.

“you were my backup plan” he says quietely, not so smug anymore. “already been everywhere”.

“i’m really s-”

“please” you don’t like that desperation in his voice. you absolutely hate when clients do that, play your emotions. you’ve always respected touya for not doing that. that’s why you were so friendly and calm with him. but here he is, trying to play you. “please, i really need it.”

“everyone does” now you truly do sound tired. touya looks at you, eyes glisten with something more than just desperation and terror. you can smell burning flesh and you prefer to ignore why.

“i can give you more, if that’s what you need” he speaks after a long pause.

“i already told you, i don’t need more cash”.

“didn’t talk about money”.

you feel cold in your limbs. he looks straight at you now - no spark in his eyes, not any reflection. his gaze now remind you of a dead fish - it’s this empty, this fucking gross.

you know for a fact, he doesn’t like you. for what you know, he doesn’t like anyone. he hates to be touched, he completely ignores any attempt in flirting, even innocent playful teasing, even not from you. he doesn’t like to be around people, and he sure as hell doesn’t like you - in that sense at least. you never asked him where he got the money. you never asked him why everytime he needed just a bit more. you’ve grown too comfortable with the fact that it’s a neverending circle: he needs more powder to kill his pain to go through a day so he can get money so he can pay you - and not only you - for a powder to kill his pain-

he sinks on his knees, looking down, and you want to run away, to scream, to jump into a hot water and scrub this disgust away. you shiver when you feel hot lips even through warm tights you put on today’s morning.

“don’t touch me”

“don’t worry” he mumbles not looking at you “i’m clean. checking every month. promise”

you’ve truly never been so terrified in your entire life. you’re begging him to let you go - his hands are gentle, not inruding in any manner, but still he doesn’t listen. you can’t move a muscle. you don’t feel aroused in a slightest.

you wanna throw up.

“wait”

you feel warm hands on your hips.

“touya, wait”

no response. you’re starting to think he’s zoned out - you know, people do that when they do something they hate to do.

“touya, stop!”

you feel bad for kicking him. you feel bad that he thought so of you. you feel even worse, because of how easy it was for him to go in this direction. it’s like he’s used to do it again, and again, and again.

“what” he asks flatly. you hate his eyes now, without his usual boldness and pride. it hurts you, it hurts you so, so bad.

you feel growing pain in your chest. you feel your entire body trembling with tiredness and something more. you feel like you need a lot of powder, to kill this pain.

he doesn’t look in your eyes - his gaze is locked on your hands.

“take it” your voice is hoarse from anxiety. you don’t have the strength in you to make this powder neat and nice, it’s not his usual pills, it’s something different, but it should work. you fear that he might want to finish what he started, and you see him opening his mouth. to ask, probably “shut the fuck up and go home. do it before i changed my mind.”

“i scared you?” he asks instead. you look away. “i see”

“take it and go!”

“sorry. didn’t want you to fear me. don’t feel bad-”

“please, just go away. please” you feel your voice crack, and hide your face behind your free hand. you feel warm fingers on your skin once again, and then you can tell he’s gone.

there’s a tiny bit of powder still on your skin. you’re licking it off of your palm, and you know how strong you are, it should be enough for you, you should feel better now. the thing is, even after making yourself painkillers again and again and again, until you’re almost lying on the ground from tiredness, that terrible pain is still here.

and you probably still really need more.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya x reader #touya x you #touya todoroki #dabi angst #bnha oneshots

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strixludica · 4 months

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A little christmas episode I wrote for my Lancer x Mass Effect fic

Farlight Blue - Spegeldal - Sparr

In the streets of Spegeldal, the celebrations of Yuletide were in full swing: little children dressed as the Yule Lads went from door to door, threatening tricks and curses if they didn't get some eggnog; while their older siblings competed in teams to topple the others' snowman with snowballs. In every plaza scaled down statues of hunted Vast, in straw and timber, burned bright and warm against the cold gleam of the aurora. From a window in Clan Blåman's meadhall, Farlight watched their merriment with mixed yearning and exhaustion. It really did look like a lot of fun playing in the snow, but they'd needed to put on four layers of coats and socks just not to have their body go numb in the harsh sparri winter, and if it hadn't been for those weird nets called tennis rackets, their limbs would have sunk to the joints at every step. Despite the rigors of the weather, visiting Sigurd's home was a welcome relief after the tour to Cradle. Aside from everything else - and there had been a lot of else - this foray into human society had tested Farlight's proficiency in speech: they'd thought they were quite used to speaking with humans; they'd done it their whole lives. But once they'd had to do it with complete aliens for months, Farlight had truly realised how convoluted it could be, how exhausting it was to have to think in loops to figure out what conclusion someone expected you to take from their words, what assumptions they were based on, instead of simply exchanging information. Here on Sparr though, despite the many differences, Farlight almost felt as if they were witnessing again. When they'd first seen him wandering Hivehome, Farlight had thought Sigurd was especially extroverted and blunt; but it turned out that was just how his people were: they wore their feelings on their faces. The Union leaders and bureaucrats they'd spoken to had been courteous and polite, and many others even friendly; but always guardedly, afraid to cause offence and careful of what they were implying. The Blåman's excitement and warmth radiated off them like heat from a fire: it was clear without ever being said that being Sigurd's friend made Farlight everyone's friend. For hours, they and the people of the clan had exchanged stories: a saga of the harrowing march from the Yuga Pocket for one of the war against the Machine, a tale of a hunting expedition for one of recovering ancient artefacts, a recounting of the great caverns under the ice where the Vast dwelled for a canticle of doomed Hivehome and its vast undersea. Finally, however, they'd had to take a rest, and so the children were ushered out to play, their parents had taken to drinking and mingling among themselves, and Farlight had been left free to wander on their own. The hall was crowded with mementos, relics and trophies: on stones etched with Sagas, weapons sized for mech and human alike menaced and gleamed - Tallgrass and William would die of envy when Farlight returned to Mycol Fields - from the walls and ceiling were hung the heads of frightful beasts, some the size of a Warform, and one horned, three-eyed skull between whose fangs Endeavor themselves could have sat with room to spare. But just as Sigurd had declared almost three years ago, the place of honour was reserved for what the two of them had brought all the way from Hercynia: an assault hardsuit made with carapace Farlight themselves had gifted, and The Sword. Divested of the augmentations which Sigurd had installed on it so he could always take it into battle, the metre-and-a-half long scythe of gleaming, steely black bone sat upon an inscribed pillar, whose runes read:

BROOD-SIBLING'S MOLT GIFTED UNTO SIGURD FREYSON BY SUPREME COMMANDER TERROR OF HIVEHOME ON THE THIRD OF AUGUST 5014U SLAYER OF OVERLAND/KINGWATCHER AND ITS SPAWN IN THE LANGUAGE OF OF THE EGREGORIAN KIND IS ETCHED UPON ITS SIDES THE LIVING SAGA OF ITS GIFTING

So that's what Sigurd and his Lance had been pestering Memory about the evening after they'd recovered the eggs. The sides of the sword were etched from tip to handle with osteomemetics - it was a complex memory indeed. On the left side, Farlight witnessed Sigurd's memory of [Surprise/Joy/Pride], his kneeling down in [Awe/Amazement], taking the blade with [Reverence/Love/Care]. The greatest warrior of the Egregorian people, who had so much reason to distrust him, had just entrusted him with a blade of their very flesh, an incomparable [Trophy/Relic]. There was only one way the [Memory/Legend] of his battles could go now. Sigurd would defend Terror and their kin with deeds [Worthy/Equal] of that blade, or die trying. On the right side, Farlight witnessed Terror's [Surprise/Doubt] at the sight of Sigurd swearing his loyalty unto his last breath, a moment of [Suspicion] that this was an attempt at [Flattery/Manipulation], and then the sight of that wide smile erupting across Sigurd's face, those eyes bright like a child's, and the [Realisation/Shift/Understanding] that the human in front of them meant every word he was saying. [Joy/Laugh/Relief/Hope] Maybe better times were coming. Farlight realised Sigurd had been standing next to them for some time. "Is the display adequate for the gift?", he asked, "I'd hate to think we weren't doing it justice" "It's perfect", Farlight replied. And they meant it.

#lancerrpg #lancer rpg #lancer ttrpg #christmas #yuletide #egregorian #sparr #wholesome #holidays #fanfic #christmas episode #yule #yule goat #no room for a wallflower

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liknws · 8 months

Text

HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN.

In every city, in every part of the world, there will always be those who live against the law, outside the moral codes of society. In every city, in every part of the world, there will always be blood and loyalties and family. In their part of the world, in their city, they reign supreme. Eight men from different walks of life found each other and made a home, a family, a place for the outlaws and the unwanted. They protect their own, they care for their own.

⎯⎯ GENDERAL WARNINGS: dark themes, corruption, murder, gore, death, violence, drug & alcohol use, sex work, organized crime, profanity, gangs & cartels, guns & gun violence ⎯⎯ RATING: 18+, for mature audiences only

BAHNG CHAN.

⎯⎯ PAIRING: president chan x federal agent reader ⎯⎯ TAGS: corruption, childhood friends to enemies, enemies to lovers ⎯⎯ WARNINGS: this part will focus heavily on law enforcement and corrupt officers and organizations, please read at your own risk.

⎯⎯ SUMMARY: you grew up in this town and you always knew you had to get out. when you were younger and the world was a lot more rose-colored, you made a promise with christopher bahng that you two would get out of this town and make something of yourselves. so you left but he stayed. you haven't thought about him or that city for so long but when you uncover something and need help, you turn to the one person you think you can trust and hope that he hasn't changed too much.

LEE MINHO.

⎯⎯ PAIRING: enforcer minho x street racer reader ⎯⎯ TAGS: enemies to lovers

⎯⎯ SUMMARY: you hate everything to do with their club and the dirty business they bring into the city. they claim that they protect the city and it's people but all you see is the chaos and devastation their wars bring to your neighborhoods. you hate everything they stand for so you don't feel bad when you take from them to provide for you, your family, or your neighbors. you don't make it a secret of your hate so when more than a few things go wrong in their organization, everyone is looking at you as the prime suspect.

SEO CHANGBIN.

⎯⎯ PAIRING: vice president changbin x nomad reader ⎯⎯ TAGS: strangers to lovers

⎯⎯ SUMMARY: you haven't been apart of any one charter in years, not after the internal politics and drama of your last charter. you enjoy life on the road, never calling one city home for too long before you're gone again, just you and your bike. you swore to yourself that you'd die a nomad, that your only connection would be your bike. but then you meet someone that has you questioning everything you've convinced yourself of.

HWANG HYUNJIN.

⎯⎯ PAIRING: tail gunner hyunjin x sex worker reader ⎯⎯ TAGS: strangers to lovers ⎯⎯ WARNINGS: sex work, savior & hero complexes

⎯⎯ SUMMARY: you're not new to the city, you're not new to the dark world hidden just under the surface. you've been in and out of this world your whole life. you've been taking care of yourself for so long that when he shows up and wants to take care of you, you fight against him every turn. you once were able to live without showing up on anyone's radar but now that you have his attention, it seems like everyone is looking your way.

HAN JISUNG.

⎯⎯ PAIRING: enforcer jisung x surgeon reader ⎯⎯ TAGS: strangers to lovers

⎯⎯ SUMMARY: he came in to the hospital and the hard part of dealing with him wasn't the bullet wounds, his refusal to answer your questions, or wanting to leave against your medical advice but how infuriatingly charming he is. it's how you find yourself wrapped up in his life so quickly, struggling with your own code and wanting to step into his life fully.

LEE FELIX.

⎯⎯ PAIRING: road captain felix x mafia heiress reader ⎯⎯ TAGS: strangers to lovers

⎯⎯ SUMMARY: this is meant to be your fresh start, a change in your life so that you can make the choice if you want to take over and rise with the crown or give it away. you feel pulled in every direction, expected to make a certain choice but meeting him suddenly nothing else matters for a while. no pressures, no expectations and suddenly you think you can make the perfect choice.

KIM SEUNGMIN.

⎯⎯ PAIRING: sgt. at arms seungmin x mechanic reader ⎯⎯ TAGS: best friends to lovers

⎯⎯ SUMMARY: if he can't work on his bike himself, there is only one other person he trusts to touch it: you. you've been around for a few years, earning your way from grunt work to a trusted ally and friend of the club. you can read between the lines and while no one has said anything outright to you, everyone that works in skz automotive knows that these bikers aren't just going for a sunday cruise.

YANG JEONGIN.

⎯⎯ PAIRING: prospect jeongin x new neighbor reader ⎯⎯ TAGS: strangers to lovers

⎯⎯ SUMMARY: when you moved in you didn't expect your neighbor to be adorable, charming, and downright sinful on that bike of his. you've heard the gossip around town and the warnings from the ladies you work with but you're not scared of him. sometimes you wonder if he might be more scared of you the way he tries to avoid you all the time.

#skz fanfic #skz x reader #skz x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz writing #skz imagine #skz x you

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womenareonline · 1 year

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Woke, Art, leftist dirtbag

This is in response to the discussion of Matty Healy on The Adam Friedland Show and about leftist dirtbags.

A few months ago I went on a date with a guy and my first text to my friend once I was home was: he is too woke. My friend and I have an ongoing joke where we talk about people going on TikTok and explaining why we shouldn't study Picasso a man who has been dead for over 40 years. Yet a few days ago I saw Chris Brown was the headliner for a festival. Do you see the issue here? I think a lot of people are talking about the over wokeness and canceled culture and how it does not work. I agree. Canceled culture is dumb and there are still a lot of people doing far worst things than Matty Healy.

What the leftist dirtbag loves to do is make fun of gen-z woke culture. Because they turn around and vote for Bernie Sanders, and that's great. We love Bernie. But voting for more leftist politicians does not give you a free pass to be racist and sexist. I get it, you are making a joke out of woke culture or of “locker room talk”. Here is my question to you: What do you gain from this? What exactly do you gain from spending an hour talking about the most bizarre and random stuff, mocking accents, and objectifying women? If you are so mad about gen-z not taking issues seriously but instead focusing on the language they use, isn't it a bit hypocritical if you sit down and make fun of them instead of helping? Great you voted for Bernie, but you are still going online and making degrading jokes about minorities. I get it, I really do. I don’t think you are racist or sexist, but I also don’t think this is the way to stay woke or to help the ongoing issue in society.

I always believed there is a balanced to everything. You can be woke and you can still focus on the important issue. I personally believe that standing up for women's rights so we don’t get murdered on our way home is far more useful than spending 10 minutes talking about Ice Spice dms. But that's just me. I’ve been online for probably the same amount of time than these guys, so I understand there is a lot on the internet and I grew up into the internet and not on the internet. I have also developed critical thinking to understand when to draw the line when joking and when to be “woke”.

Here is the thing about these jokes: POC and women have spoken up and said this isn’t funny. We do not enjoy this kind of humor. Why aren’t you listening to them? I understand your jokes and satire, but if someone is telling you it's making them uneasy, should you stop? What's the point of satire if it offends people? Why are you telling people to “take a joke” when you are joking about their own culture? We heard enough about this when it's not a joke and outside of art, and we are telling you: we are very tired. We are tired of white men telling us how to feel. We are tired of men telling us “it's a joke”. I know you are joking, I get that. But tomorrow I’ll wake up and a man would catcall me for wearing a skirt. I am tired even when you are joking.

About the whole concept of this being art. I get art, I really do. I adore art and would always try to understand the most bizarre and random art. I don’t judge it for what it is. I like to believe I try different forms and genres of art because I don’t believe in listening to criticism or mouth-to-mouth (I even listened to the podcast I swear). They are saying art is supposed to challenge us and this is for you to think and to step outside. I love that concept of art. I really enjoy watching something new and experiencing new music (like The 1975!!). But I don’t understand what is so challenging for white men to sit for an hour to talk about other races and women. Isn’t that what we see every day? Is that literally what politics is like? Men telling women what to do with their bodies? I think it is more challenging when men stand up for women because we don’t see that every day. I think it's braver when we talk about the killing of POC and transgender people. Why isn’t art about that? I think that's a challenge because the status quo is men speaking for women. Are white people telling other groups how to feel or who to be? I think the challenge in the art should be to those in power. Let's make fun of those who are in power and who marginalized others. I believed Matty Healy did an amazing job portraying this in Consumption on his last tour and I loved that. He was a white man, calling out men. I am tired as a Latina woman to see men talk about us but not about themselves. There is more value in a man telling another man they are wrong. Two of my favorite writers are Isabel Allende (Chilean) and Gabriel García Marquez (Colombian) they both write about the issues in Latin America. They both explain what is wrong in our culture. That's more valuable and challenging than men talking about other races and genders.

I’m closing this by saying I had and maybe still do a great admiration for Matty Healy as an artist. I think he is brilliant: his music is amazing, he is a great songwriter, the shows are all created by him, an amazing frontman (i saw them live back in 2019), and has an amazing meme curation. But i don’t get why he blur the line into I don’t want people to see me as too woke. I think it might be a “trauma” response to being canceled so much. I get it. But I don’t think that's where we need to direct the conversation.

#Woke culture #Cancelled culture #Internet #online #leftist dirtbag #Matty Healy #writing

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arachnicas · 9 months

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I love your DT!Miles au! That is something Miles could and would do, I mean that's literally the reason he wanted to going to Princeton in the first place. I have a ton of questions, like did Miles just make himself a portal gun and bracelet or did he make his new dimensional buddies some too? And if so did he personalize them for each of them? Like some maybe need or prefer a different type of accessory or equipment like a necklace, belt, hairpiece etc because of their fighting style and Miles takes it as a challenge and does it so well that each device matches them and their dimensions. Would Miles have met Hobie before he got recruited into the Spider-Society? Maybe Miles makes Hobie a dimensional guitar pick attached to a little chain to do with what he wants just because thinks he's cool, and doesn't lord it over him or make him join a spider cult for it. What kinda affect would Hobie never joining the Spider-Society have on Gwen since she likely would have never met Hobie? Cause I've noticed that in the movies either time simply flows differently in each dimension or the dimensional devices allow the user to actually somewhat choose the point in time they enter a dimension. There are just so many ideas and questions flooding my head like crazy!

!!!!!

Thank you for your kind words, and I have so much to say about each and every single one of your questions! I have so many ideas they're just bouncing around in my brain, and I need an outlet!

-) Did Miles just make himself a portal gun and bracelet or did he make his new dimensional buddies some too? And if so did he personalize them for each of them?: Miles hadn't really planned on making any more portal guns or bracelets because both are difficult to make, and he would have to constantly put them through a test run to ensure that they don't break apart or malfunction. However, after meeting alternate versions of himself, Miles made the ultimate decision to create little gizmos for his Morales Siblings. Instead of portal guns, the gizmos are made into jewelry, hair accessories, instruments, and even a tiny spider bot dedicated to the cyberpunk version of himself. Miles even went so far as to TEACH them all how to make their own dimension-hopping goober!

-) . Would Miles have met Hobie before he got recruited into the Spider-Society?: Oh, definitely! The two met when Miles began his first steps as a dimension traveler, and it was by pure accident when he crash-landed on top of Hobie when the portal practically spat him out. The pair took one look at each other, their spider senses tingling, and that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Hobie still "joins" the Society to look after Gwen and Pav, but he acts as both eyes and ears for Miles, informing him of the Society's shifting politics, Miguel's plans, etc. It's not spying; he's just keeping Miles up to date on everything that's going on because somebody's gotta' keep Miles in the loop, and plus, Miles swore to never step foot in that place. Spider Society doesn't even accept or respect him, so why should he make himself known to these people?

-) What kinda affect would Hobie never joining the Spider-Society have on Gwen since she likely would have never met Hobie?: It took a long while for Miles to realize that Gwen just needed help and that the adults in her life were letting her down repeatedly. A part of him is still hurt that she never visited, but he takes it upon himself to teach her how to create her own gizmo so that she'll always have a safe place to run to in case things in her dimension go sideways. It would take time, patience, and understanding, but their friendship would slowly repair, and Gwen would finally have a healthy support system outside of Spider Society.

@its-just-a-glitch

#answered ask #DT!Miles is my current obsession #because if Miguel can make his own goddamn watch then so can Miles!#the kid is a genius and I refuse to downplay his big brain #LET HIM HOP THROUGH PORTALS AND TRAVEL THE MULTIVERSE #LET HIM BE A MULTIVERSE EXPLORER!!

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hollow-lime-green · 3 months

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Just finished Left Hand of Darkness. This book is so smart, and I feel both dumb but also smarter for having read it. The pitch was interesting, the execution was brilliant. Rambly thoughts under the cut -

I hate reading sci fi, so the fact that I was actually able to get invested in the journey (which was a lot of LOTR style walking) in the back half is wild. I get irritated when books, especially sci fi books with their made up words and science-inspired concept casseroles, drop a TON of details without explanation and say "see? aren't you curious about all these things I just threw at you? #worldbuilding!!11". And this book does certainly do that, but not in an insufferable way, and the POV character Genly is a good way to explore it. Beyong not understanding certain facets of this alien, agender society, he also just refuses to engage with some of it, and that itself is the story.

I liked this exploration of gender because it wasn't really directly about gender. It took everything a step further by really, fully taking the thought experiment to completion. The agenderness and asexuality (for most of the month, anyway) influence politics, relationships, communication - every aspect of the world. Genly's story is about reacting to the end product as a whole, not just the androgynous people. Though they are all human with common roots, the divergent evolution of Winter societally is what makes them alien.

I'm sure that way smarter people than myself have a lot of thoughts on this book. Probably criticisms too, given when it was published and how our perceptions of gender have changed since then. It's a very interesting book regardless, and its concept is so well developed that it yanks you into Le Guin's hyperspecific world and forces you to see things from a new perspective. I'm glad I read it, but no more sci fi for a bit.

#ursula k. le guin #the left hand of darkness #books and reading

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bylertruther · 7 months

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can i hear all of your thoughts on the ballad of songbirds and snakes? 👀

no ❤️ hehe ofc! this is just going to be a braindump bc it's been a while, but here are my thoughts! (under a read-more bc i be talkin)

first, i'd like to say that i was never one of those people that went ugh 🙄 who wants to hear about the bad guy 🙄. never! not even a little bit. snow was one of my favorites and i thoroughly LOVED every scene he was in. years later, those are the ones that stand out to me every time. also, i felt that collins had done a superb job of showing her understanding of such topics and her literary prowess, so even on a more technical note, i still couldn't understand why people were disappointed or thought it would be a fluff piece.

moving on to the book itself now: i liked this book because of snow 🤍 and the way it approached certain themes, like poverty and war and the politics stemming from both.

every page felt gripping to me, because snow is very much a Thinker^tm. a plotter. a schemer. he can never not be present, not even just in the moment, but in both the past and the future, too. he has this dogged persistence that was refreshing to me, bc it's very different to how katniss felt as someone that was thrust into something she never wanted in the first place. katniss was born into poverty and largely accepted that, bc she had no choice. snow was not, and thus can not accept this fate for himself, and fights it every step of the way.

as for poverty, i don't think that a lot of people understand just how much it can influence not just your entire life, but also the lives of your children should you keep the cycle going. it's something that demands to be known and dealt with; something that dictates how every little interaction with the world can or will go. it's especially brutal if you haven't always been poor or if you live in an area with such wealth inequality, like snow.

the importance and constant presence and reminder of hunger / food, appearances / clothes, outside mannerisms / internal monologue, drive / desperation, and the reasoning behind snow's actions make this exceptionally clear, i feel. you're not allowed to forget, not even for a moment, because snow can never forget. he also can't afford to, because his future and his social standing within society depends on it. he simply has no choice in the matter, esp not with his obsessive tendencies.

we're reminded again and again that snow doesn't have the same safety net as his peers. he has to be the best and he has to fight for everything, because otherwise he won't be able to pursue higher education and has no way of moving up. every decision that he makes is informed by that. when he sways, he inevitably remembers what it's like to be poor, and quickly shifts gears.

he remembers the war. he remembers all that he lost. he remembers what they had to do to survive. he carries that with him all the time. he's always going to look out for himself and ultimately do what's in his best interest, because there is no one that's able to do that for him. he has to do that not just for himself, but his family, too. you don't have to agree with him and the many justifications he makes for himself, but he is fighting his own fight the same way that other characters like katniss and gale were.

i'm reminded of this quote from lucy herself:

"people aren't so bad, really," she said. "it's what the world does to them. like us in the arena. we did things in there we'd never have considered if they'd just left us alone."

and i don't say this to excuse the things he does, or later goes on to do, but to reiterate that throughout the entirety of this book, snow is in a fight for survival. he even says that what he sees in district twelve reminds him of his time in the arena. of course, he's twisted this into a justification of his superiority, but he's acknowledging this point, and adding that "it takes very little to bring the beast to the surface."

like. everyone reacts to hardship and war differently. you have characters like gale and snow. you have characters like tigress, peeta, and sejanus. and you have characters like katniss and lucy gray.

there are millions of people in the world that wish to escape the boot. and there are many that when they do, rather than throwing it out entirely, they make the conscious decision to put it on themselves be the one to do the stepping this time. i don't agree with it, but i find it endlessly fascinating, because of how human it is. many people respond to cruelty with cruelty—eye for an eye—and justify it to themselves by equating it to order.

i also just loved, loved, loved how she dived into war and post-war society, too. the things people are willing to do to survive (cannibalism, crime, sex work, etc). what happens afterward (no-waste policies/culture, the winner imposes retaliatory violence and sanctions against the loser, propaganda culture, hostility and prejudice between opposing groups / classes, ptsd, restructuring society in such a way that it cannot happen again, etc).

it's like. i just. clenches fist. i love it when there are reasons behind evil. snow wasn't born that way—he was made. circumstance and his own decision-making along the way are what make him the man he is. there are many moments within the story that show you that he is capable of feeling things for others, many points where he does struggle to make a decision, and many points where he struggles even after making that decision, that show you that he is incredibly and undoubtedly human. that anyone is capable of being like him. that there are many people in this world that are just like him. this story is every bit as human and real and fascinating as the first three books were, and it didn't even need fantasy elements to make it so, bc it's just Real Life.

i focused on snow here bc he's my favorite, but i also really enjoyed sejanus and lucy gray, too. the tragedy of sejanus and his inability to be anything but himself is chef's kiss. when he cries out for his ma? omfg. SINISTER!!!!!!!!!!!! EVIL, EVIL, EVIL. and so real. and lucy gray is just that girl, that character, the One. if she were a vine, it'd be this one: "i'm a bad bitch you can't kill me". it didn't matter what snow did, bc she lived on despite his efforts and got the last laugh. "it's the things we love most that destroy us" #true but also not true bc he brought all that on himself, not her. and there are many such dr gauls in the world, too, trying their best to poison enough minds that it keeps their machine going even after they're gone. many such people that don't know when to stop or more accurately simply don't care to.

anyway. i loved it <3 loved it so much tht it bumped snow up to number 1 fave of the series and made me weep n wail bc i need more content from ms collins immediately </3

#asks

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