#that people are being locked up for actual crimes here

[beardedmrbean]

In a discussion on a poll declaring patriotism is on the decline, The View’s Sunny Hostin dismissed the issue of internment camps for Uyghur Muslims by declaring the United States imprisons far more Black people.

A Wall Street Journal/NORC survey found only 38 percent of respondents considered patriotism “very important,” which is a drop from 70 percent in 1998.

Alyssa Farah Griffin argued at one point that despite its flaws, the U.S. is the greatest nation and must act as the leader of the free world or communist China will.

“If America is not the number one global power, it’s not going to be Denmark, it’s going to be communist China, a country that right now the government is imprisoning Uyghur Muslims in concentration camps. It is a deeply racist government, it’s a human rights-violating government, it’s a government that if they are the leader of the free world, we are not a free world like we are right now,” Griffin said.

She later declared, “Nowhere else in the world do all these women sit at this table.”

“We all know it’s a great country because we all have benefitted from some of the great things about this country,” Joy Behar said, noting however young people fear regular mass shootings and a broken healthcare system.

Hostin jumped in and circled back to Griffin mentioning China’s internment camps.

“When I listen to Christopher Wray, the head of the FBI, he said white supremacy is the biggest domestic threat to this country and so as a woman of color and with a 6’2″ black kid in college and a 5’7″, 5’8″ Black kid in high school, I don’t see that part of American exceptionalism. I’m sorry,” Hostin said. “I think this country has a lot of problems that could be solved. Yes, maybe they’re putting Muslims in jail in Afghanistan, I think you mentioned?”

“China,” Griffin replied.

“China? They’re putting a lot more Black people in jail here,” Hostin said.

According to an NBC News report, Chinese officials have worked to coverup the torture carried out at these camps. More than one million Muslims are reportedly held captive in these reported camps, which human rights groups have widely condemned. Prisoners reportedly face abuse, work in factories, and are forced to renounce their religions.

According to a report from the think tank Prison Policy Initiative this year, the U.S. had approximately two million people detained in prisons and Black Americans make up around 38 percent of that population, meaning approximately 760,000. None of these prisoners are held in concentration camps, according to any reports.

Griffin asked what country on the planet is ahead of the United States on race. No one offered up the U.S. as leading China and others on race and Whoopi Goldberg described a different America than what she’s seen before.

“This is really about all of things that we believed we were doing that we don’t do anymore,” she said. We don’t teach people that it is your birthright to vote in this country. It’s a gift. We don’t teach people what their rights are as human beings.”

Watch above via ABC.

__________________

#nunyas news #I get that people are being locked #up for the crime of being Muslim #but you have to understand #that people are being locked up for actual crimes here #and that's much worse.

[a-hazbin-reader]

could you do something about how alastor gets jealous and how he shows it? Like what things would get him jealous and stuff like that and then how he would go about it? Thank you!

I guess I gotta- 🥵

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being a red flag, Wifey is into it even though she pretends not to be, A widdle suggestive

Description: ☝️⬆️

It doesn't take much to make Alastor jealous, he has a big ego to defend and doesn't like to share your attention

He also doesn't think a lot of people are worthy of your attention so that's a big part of it

Alastor is almost childish the way he acts out when he's jealous, it's painfully obvious even though he denies it every time

He sulks and acts out to get your attention back on him, doing anything he can to make you just look at him

He's rude and intimidating to anyone he thinks is flirting with you or trying to take you for themselves

After every incident, he tries to pretend like nothing happened and refuses to acknowledge his jealous streak

Can't people just understand that you're a married woman and that Alastor deserves all of your time???

Someone is talking to you and you're laughing too hard, cheeks a little too pink? Alastor is right there to sniff out any ill intention

"What's so funny, my dear? Surely you're not gossiping without me.."

He's wrapping a protective arm around you and kissing your cheek, eyeing the other person the entire time as he asserts his husbandly dominance over them

"Hm? Oh! He was telling me a funny joke about-"

Alastor takes a break from kissing your wrist and palm to snap his gaze to the other man, a wicked gleam in his eye

"Ohhhh! So you're a clown! Wonderful~! Your attire had me wondering what you do for a living, but now it all makes sense!"

The other person is visibly uncomfortable by your husband's unspoken challenge and backs out of the conversation with their tail between their legs

"I guess he had other things to do~"

You roll your eyes as Alastor nuzzles your neck, petting his around his ears and antlers

"You're are not a very subtle man, my dear."

You're dancing with someone who's not him? Alastor will physically shut that shit down

He spends maybe a full minute pouting and ignoring everyone else around him, eyes locked on you and your dance partner

"Alastor, are you even listening?"

"Out of all the women here, why did he choose MY wife? I walked away for one second, and he snatched her up!"

He doesn't care for how closely they're holding you, the way they blush and smile from your attention

Alastor isn't having it, striding over and using his hip to push the man away from you and off the dance floor, taking your hand

You're trying not to smile at him, pressing against your husband as you take his hand and dance with him

"Alastor, that was rude..."

He simply chuckles and spins you around happily, snapping his fingers to change the song into something more romantic

"I would say I'm sorry but we both know I'm not~ Besides, I waited for my chance to dance with you!"

It's hard to stay mad at him when he's looking at you like you're the only person in the world and holding you like you're something precious

It helps that he's so handsome, you can't help but lean up and steal a kiss from him, feeling familiar butterflies at the touch

"You've been dancing with me all night, and you barely waited a minute... you greedy demon~"

He leans into your hand as you cup his cheek, tail wagging from having your undivided attention again

"Is it a crime that I want to hog my darling wife? That I crave every opportunity to dance with her and steal the show?"

He's leaning in for another kiss, and it makes you instinctively move in closer to meet his lips

"It will be if you keep injuring people~"

And those are just some examples of people who weren't flirting with you, it's so much worse when someone actually wants you

You're waiting for your husband to meet with you for your date, dressed up and looking your absolute best

When you hear a sharp whistle from behind, only to see a sleazy looking demon towering over you and eyeing your body

"And just where do you think you're going looking like that, beautiful? My place is that way~"

He's much too close, placing a hand on the wall behind you in order to keep you from running, completely unaware of the danger he's in

You can't help but roll your eyes at the situation

"I'm flattered, really I am... but I'm not interested, I'm waiting for someone, actually."

You casually move out from under his arm, completely unfazed by the way his expression darkens as you fix your appearance

"Oh really? And just who might you be waiting for? Let me guess, your boyfriend?"

He doesn't look like he believes you, making air quotes around the word boyfriend

You can't help but laugh at the poor soul, putting a hand on your hip as you whip around to face him-

"Husband, actually~ My name is Alastor though maybe you'll recognize my other name! The Radio Demon~ Maybe you've heard of me?"

It's such a treat to watch the cocky demon lose his composure in fear and so sexy to watch your husband be the cause of it

The demon is so much larger than Alastor but he's practically cowering away from him, Alastor grinning at him as he tilts his head

"Look uh-I'm sorry! I didn't realize-"

Your husband tuts at the demon, antlers already growing as he morphs into his larger demonic form

You can't help but blush at how sweet Alastor is being, rushing to your rescue like this

"Didn't realize what? That you were hitting on my wife? You think I would just stand by and let you think you have a shot with her? She's much too far out of your league, unfortunately."

He's so cute when he's jealous

"Darling, do be quick with that? I don't want to miss our reservation-and no eating him! I don't want you to spoil your appetite!"

Alastor looks at you and visibly blushes at how good you look, the other demon simply an afterthought as he tears them apart

"My dear, you look absolutely ravishing~ How am I going to keep the other men from looking at you when you're so delectable?"

He's still humongous, a large claw reaching out to stroke your leg tenderly, a lovesick expression on his face

You can practically see the hearts in his eyes~ Smiling at your husband and blowing him a kiss

"It's a good thing that you're the only man I have eyes for then, isn't it?"

He shrinks back down to his normal size and kisses your hand before wrapping an arm around you as you two walk together

"It's something that I'm extraordinarily grateful for~"

You can't help but lean your head against him, letting him nuzzle the top of your head in an affectionate manner

"Though~ I wouldn't mind a refresher of just how much you adore me...~"

You can't help but snort at the comment, gently slapping his chest before pulling him in for a kiss

"Dinner first~ You'll need your strength~"

I might go back and change this one a bit ngl

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

[spacedace]

Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help

-

Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.

The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.

Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.

The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.

That social worker.

“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.

“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”

He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”

“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”

Nightingale frowned a little at that.

“Is that what people are saying?”

“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”

“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”

“You wanted to work here.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.

She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?

Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.

“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.

“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”

She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”

Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”

Jason considered her.

Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.

It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.

Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.

For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.

And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.

He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.

“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”

“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”

Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.

“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”

Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.

“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”

Oh.

Those.

“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”

He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.

“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”

Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.

“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”

Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.

#dpxdc #jazz fen #jason todd #social worker jazz #social worker jazz fenton #anger management ship #anger management #pre anger management #jason todd x jazz fenton #i don't know why i keep writing scenes where Jazz writes resumes to apply to work for crime bosses but it just feels right in my soul okay #the real reason Jason wears a full face helmet is so people can't tell when he utterly fails to hide his emotions about something #the idea of social worker jazz working in crime alley has completely consumed me mind body and soul

[libraford]

Okay so here's what's going on with the bird crimes.

On thursday I was going to Powers Park when I saw what I thought were 2 chickens hanging out in the parking lot, and a lady watching them from the fence. I thought... they could belong to the lady, but chickens aren't the kind of pet that you just let hang out loose.

I approach.

Lady: "These aren't mine."

I look closer. Its actually 2 roosters, one of which is a very small breed and is missing his tail feathers. Both of them have an injury to their backside- like its been plucked.

So we talk about what to do, I end up calling Animal Control. The actual Animal Control officer doesn't get there until noon, I get a police dispatcher. She says she can send one of the cops to grab them until the actual professional gets there.

I tell her that the roosters are being kept by the woman I met, she's coaxing them into her house.

I post about it on the facebook group in case someone knows who they belong to. The comments are full of jokes, obviously. But no leads. Eventually the big rooster gets caught by someone running a sanctuary for abandoned and abused livestock, but they're still looking for the little black one. Evidently they got out of the lady's backyard and were loose again.

I figure he's going to be a coyote snack and don't think about it for the rest of the week.

So now it is Sunday and I'm opening up the bathrooms. I'm at Summit Grove park and as I'm about to reserve the shelter for a birthday party I see...

A black pigeon.

Pigeons are not a common animal in this area- you're more likely to see house sparrows, crows, and mourning doves. So that's odd. What's more, she doesn't seem to be skittish and is definitely accustomed to humans. And she keeps trying to bite my fingers, so she associates hands with food and she's skinny as a rail so she's been abandoned for a minute.

Why does this keep happening to me? Is this the Morrigan come to teach me a lesson in pigeon form?

So I remember the number of the woman running the sanctuary and I give her a call. I tell her I've got a pigeon here that can't fly, is super hungry, and doesn't seem to have any issues biting fingers. She says she can't take her, but she can find a home for her because pigeons have specific needs. But she won't be able to get there until 12:30. We (my work partner and I) have to deal with the bird in the meantime.

We absolutely cannot take this bird with us on our route because we are in a tiny truck cab and don't have a cat carrier to put her in. So our solution is to lock her in the janitor's closet until the rep can get here.

Around 12:15, we head back to the shelter to make sure she's still there and hasn't been disturbed... and I realize that the reason I even saw her in the first place...

...was because there was supposed to be a birthday party at the shelter at noon.

The party is strongly underway and they have shoved a table against the door of the closet.

The sanctuary lady comes by and waves, we ask the party people politely to move the table slightly because we're trying to rehome a pigeon that's inside that closet.

They move the table, but not all guests see this interaction- because it looks like a bunch of maintenance people are just here to boss folks around during a little girl's birthday party and this draws a crowd.

The sanctuary rep arrives and we open the door just a little bit to let the bird out. She bobbles towards us, hoping for food, when one of the older ladies at the party exclaims:

"Does that ANIMAL just LIVE in there?!"

I mean... sure. For the past few hours, she did live in there.

"Do you have any IDEA how many DISEASES pigeons carry?"

The rep scoops the pigeon into her arms and takes her out of the shelter area to inspect her wings, feet, and back. She shows us her breastbone and explains that its been several days since the bird ate anything, which was why it was going for fingers.

Meanwhile, Aunt Ornithophobia over here: "I can't BELIEVE you would just TOUCH a BIRD like that in front of CHILDREN!"

We take the bird away to the van so the rep can thank us and explain what likely happened- which is that someone abandoned the bird when they couldn't take care of her anymore they just let her loose.

"I understand you got one of the roosters," I said.

"Yes, the big one. But the little bantam rooster is very fast- he darted into someone's backyard and I never found him again. If you see him, give me a call."

"I've been told that chickens are legal to own here, but roosters are not."

She gets an exasperated look on her face. "If you're going to allow backyard chickens, you're going to have to allow roosters. It's impossible to sex an avian chick and they don't get their dimorphic traits until they've reached the young adult stage and chick sellers don't care about whether they're a hen or a rooster. They care about the sale. We get roosters more often than egg-layers because someone sold them a male as a female and they don't want to pay the fine. I'd rather have the laws allow both, or neither. But disallowing roosters is patently stupid."

"Hm. Well. Note to self."

"Anyways, you're heroes to this little rock dove and I want you two to know that. She's going on a trip to a bird sanctuary in Toledo where she'll have lots and lots of snacks to eat that aren't fingers."

#parks and wrecks #life as a temporary twig pig

[ms-demeanor]

One thing that I keep seeing whenever I make posts that are critical of macs is folks in the notes going "they make great computers for the money if you just buy used/refurbs - everyone knows not to buy new" and A) no they don't know that, most people go looking for a new computer unless they have already exhausted the new options in their budget and B) no they don't make great computers for the money, and being used doesn't do anything to make them easier to work on or repair or upgrade.

Here's a breakdown of the anti-consumer, anti-repair features recently introduced in macbooks. If you don't want to watch the video, here's how it's summed up:

In the end the Macbook Pro is a laptop with a soldered-on SSD and RAM, a battery secured with glue, not screws, a keyboard held in with rivets, a display and lid angle sensor no third party can replace without apple. But it has modular ports so I guess that’s something. But I don’t think it’s worthy of IFixIt’s four out of ten reparability score because if it breaks you have to face apple’s repair cost; with no repair competition they can charge whatever they like. You either front the cost, or toss the laptop, leaving me wondering “who really owns this computer?”

Apple doesn't make great computers for the money because they are doing everything possible to make sure that you don't actually own your computer, you just lease the hardware from apple and they determine how long it is allowed to function.

The lid angle sensor discussed in this video replaces a much simpler sensor that has been used in laptops for twenty years AND calibrating the sensor after a repair requires access to proprietary apple software that isn't accessible to either users or third party repair shops. There's no reason for this software not to be included as a diagnostic tool on your computer except that Apple doesn't want users working on apple computers. If your screen breaks, or if the fragile cable that is part of the sensor wears down, your only option to fix this computer is to pay apple.

How long does apple plan to support this hardware? What if you pay $3k for a computer today and it breaks in 7 years - will they still calibrate the replacement screen for you or will they tell you it's time for new hardware EVEN THOUGH YOU COULD HAVE ATTAINED FUNCTIONAL HARDWARE THAT WILL WORK IF APPLE'S SOFTWARE TELLS IT TO?

Look at this article talking about "how long" apple supports various types of hardware. It coos over the fact that a 2013 MacBook Air could be getting updates to this day. That's the longest example in this article, and that's *hardware* support, not the life cycle of the operating system. That is dogshit. That is straight-up dogshit.

Apple computers are DRM locked in a way that windows machines only wish they could pull off, and the apple-only chips are a part of that. They want an entirely walled garden so they can entirely control your interactions with the computer that they own and you're just renting.

Even if they made the best hardware in the world that would last a thousand years and gave you flowers on your birthday it wouldn't matter because modern apple computers don't ever actually belong to apple customers, at the end of the day they belong to apple, and that's on purpose.

This is hardware as a service. This is John Deere. This is subscription access to the things you buy, and if it isn't exactly that right at this moment, that is where things have been heading ever since they realized it was possible to exert a control that granular over their users.

With all sympathy to people who are forced to use them, Fuck Apple I Hope That They Fall Into The Ocean And Are Hidden Away From The Honest Light Of The Sun For Their Crimes.

[kelocitta]

In honor of the @rw-ship-showdown I wanted to write about Artihunter as someone who jokingly slapped them together pre-downpour and still thinks they are actually very compelling. Just not in the super soft love wins kinda way (Although I get why people like that more) And the only way I know how to do that is talking too much so heres a far too long slug essay-

Obviously the slugcats don't offer a ton of characterization but theres not nothing to work with. Their stories, whether by their roles in it or the overarching themes do provide a backbone to work with. Even gameplay itself can provide a bit. (for some more than others) Hunter, to me, is ultimately a story about selflessness. The goal is to revive Moon, which is very much an act of kindness from both Hunter and NSH. But the weight of that action is much more significant for Hunter- Hunter is deeply sick. They're on the clock, and for all their skill in combat none of that will ultimately help them to survive longer than their body can hold out. Moon is a close friend of NSH but that means little Hunter- Hunter really gets next to nothing out of helping them, and ultimately pays quiet a bit spending their limited time alive fighting to deliver that neuron so that someone else can live.

To spend ones limited days on helping another, in a game that very much stresses the unwavering cruelty of the world and nature- is pretty notable. (And you could even say that Hunter being the Hardmode of Rain World adds another layer to this)

And then we have Artificer. A storyline that very much stands out to people as more… villainous (so to speak) than the other slugcats. Artificer's story covers a lot of things. Trauma, violence, revenge, etc. Revenge is a bit of a selfish desire- That need to see someone hurt as they have hurt you. A punishment that ultimately does not fix whatever harm was done- but feels good to see because you were hurt and now those responsible share that pain.

Artificer's actions are founded in that need for revenge, their pups killed for overstepping boundaries they didn't know existed. Is it not fair for them to be angry at that, to punish the scavengers for their violence with their own? Why should the scavengers ever be forgiven when they and their pups were not? And that's how you get that loop- Harm for harm over and over.

The original action has been lost in a spiral of violence for violence. And here stands Artificer- their very spirit scarred. Not just because they sought revenge, but because they never ceased trying to scratch that itch for violence as an answer. Artificer only has two paths for their story- killing the scavenger king (Someone who, really, has little to do with the original 'crime' of the scavengers, but represents an important individual to them- as did the slugpups to Artificer), locking themselves as karma one for good and spending the rest of their life chasing creatures that no longer even fight back in a warped sense of closure- or to dissolve themselves in the acids of the void sea because they're too far gone to find any real peace.

They can't meaningfully recover from that state, not alone, twisting in on themselves. Even if they halt their actions, they've been using violence as a feeble defense against their own pain- violence that no longer has any real direction or basis. Artificer gets no real closure from killing the scavenger king. All they can do is continue the cycle, or try to scrub it away. No real peace in a prison of their own making. So you have a creature, who even with a strict timer on their life- a body that will crumble to disease, spends its last bit of time on saving another. And another who was so caught up in the pain of loss that were eaten alive by their own anger, poisoned their own soul on such a deep level even self-proclaimed gods have no solution for them. What peace can they offer each other? For Hunter, its only a fleeting moment of happiness- of selfish love, before their own body fails them. A bit of indulgence in something for themself. For Artificer, its a single, comforting thread to ground them again, something tangible to protect and care about again. But thats a thread that will ultimately be snapped under the cruel indifference of the world. Hunters timer will tick down regardless of if it takes another with it. Its a tragedy- its doomed to end badly. Whatever good it offers to either of them to find each other will only provide the fleeting comfort of a band-aid that will be ripped away too early. But all that can be worth indulging in anyway, if only for the moment. It doesn't change the ending, but the ending was never going to be happy. Its can so yuri

#rain world #rw shipping #tagging that just cause this is explicitly about that even though I usually dont do shipping stuff #with that said i dont even think this particular interpretation of a possible dynamic needs to be romantic its just kinda #about companionship in general. companionship thats going to absolutely shred an already unstable slug emotionally but thats #the point. friendship and love in spite of the unavoidable ending #just noticed this is like 80% theme analysis and 20% 'these go together just trust me' #but also theyre both girls because i want them to and also because im channeling hornet from hollow knight #who made me so deeply ill that my rain world tags still havent outcompeted my Hk tags because i drew her so much. so so much. #hunter is hornet coded to me and artificer is like if angela and gebura from lc combined into a deeply fucked up ferret #also i did tag the poll because they kinda inspired this but also. i wasnt gonna put all this out here WITHOUT a readmore thats embarassing #but i guess this is propaganda for a ship already seen as popular but like... idk i think theres something to it even as someone #who did literally slap them together originally because they were both red slugcats i considered girls. predownpour so we didnt have anythi #anyway hi tag readers i have so much work to do im being bad by writing about gay slugs. i need to get myself together #its so late this might just be nonsense bwaaaaaaa

[suzukiblu]

Day six of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon.

"You're bluffing," the thief says flatly.

"And you're fucking stupid if you think this is the play that's getting you out of here," Kon snorts, tapping a foot against the floor. "C'mon, man, give it up. I've got plans tonight." 

"Use the artifact!" the alleged "Mark" yells at the thief holding it. 

"Right!" said thief says, then . . . pauses, and looks embarrassed. "How do I . . . do that?" 

Kon looks incredibly unimpressed. Tim empathizes. Deeply. 

"You guys need a minute there?" Kon asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"Shut up!" Mark snaps at him. "Just use it, Lisa!" 

"I thought you said no names–" 

"Use it!" 

"Uh, right!" 

The thief chucks the little clay goat at Kon. Tim is genuinely embarrassed for this entire crew. 

Kon catches the goat one-handed, which is kind of a stupid idea, but letting it smash on the floor admittedly wouldn't look great. People over property, obviously, but Kon also historically has issues with property damage and letting the bad guys smash up ancient artifacts is not the best plan in general anyway. Especially given how often said ancient artifacts have ghosts or curses or apocalypses locked inside them. 

"Lisa!" the thieves all yell in horror.

"Was this the whole plan?" Kon asks, making a show of inspecting the goat. "Like, was this it? I can come back later, if you're still cooking on that."

Tim muffles a laugh with a snort. Kon definitely caught it, though, judging by his smug smirk. 

"Shut up, wannabe!" the thief still holding a gun to Tim's head snarls, which reminds Tim he should be pretending to care about the gun currently being held to his head. Honestly, he would in Gotham, but the only way this moron is shooting anybody is by accident. 

. . . admittedly, that is a concern, given the trigger discipline issue. Hm.

"Killing me would probably count as felony murder, just so you know," Tim mentions, glancing around the thieves. "Which you could all be charged with, not just whoever actually shot me. Plus I'm pretty sure stealing objects of cultural heritage from a museum is a federal crime."

He's completely sure of all that, actually, for obvious reasons, but he has to at least pretend to be a civilian here. Like, some effort needs to go into that illusion, if for no other reason than to avoid a Bat-lecture from Bruce or, worse, a Bat-"I'm not mad, just disappointed" from Dick. 

Or, worst, Alfred might make disapproving shortbread instead of approving jammy dodgers for post-patrol tonight. That'd be really unfortunate. Tim could really use an approving jammy dodger tonight. He's already going to have to write up a very annoying incident report of this situation as it is, and also deal with the mortification of getting his neck saved by a Super. There is no dignity in that. At all. 

He is definitely never telling the team his secret identity. At least not until he's absolutely positive Kon hasn't inherited any of Superman's eidetic memory, anyway. He's ninety-nine percent sure he hasn't, but that last percent is a definite concern right now. 

"No one asked your opinion, brat!" Mark snaps, though a few of the other thieves now look extremely uneasy. Tim makes another mental note about their crew's obvious lack of prep time and general planning and continues to be embarrassed for them. Museum robberies in Gotham are themed events with careful research and preparation involved, and frankly usually involve more thoughtful effort than whatever gala they may or may not be crashing did. Smash and grab is for convenience stores and small-timers. And these guys are definitely small-timers, but this is equally definitely not a convenience store.

Metropolis is so weird. Why anyone even bothers doing petty crime in it at all is beyond Tim. Maybe they're just banking on Superman being more concerned with natural disasters and alien invasions and rescuing cats from trees, which is a valid strategy. Same theory as splitting up and making a cohesive group into multiple targets.

"He has the idol!" Lisa hisses, glaring at Kon like she's not the one who threw it at him to begin with. Tim gets a gun barrel jammed into his temple again. He has no idea why Trigger Discipline: What Not To Do thinks that's, like . . . a productive thing to do. At this rate he's going to get a bruise or something.

Well, he's not actually doing it hard enough to hurt, admittedly, though Tim does keep expecting it to. The guy looks like he's putting his back into it, but the impacts continue not to actually hurt, so Tim supposes he's just trying to put on a show here. 

Well, at least he's putting in some effort, Tim supposes. That's something. 

"I really do have plans tonight, you know," Kon reminds them, raising an eyebrow at the thieves again. 

"I would appreciate you delaying those, actually," Tim mentions. "If you don't mind, I mean." 

"Oh, yeah, don't sweat it, dude," Kon says, waving him off. "These people are annoying but I'm not gonna ditch out on you here, that's not your fault." 

"Don't ignore us!" one of the unnamed thieves yells. "And give the idol back!" 

"I have no idea why you would expect me to do that," Kon says. 

"I'll shoot!" the thief holding Tim threatens, jamming the gun barrel into his head again. 

"I mean, I'm pretty sure that dude was right about the felony murder thing, so maybe don't?" Kon says, inspecting the little clay goat again. "Hm. This thing is actually kinda cute." 

"It is, isn't it," Tim agrees. "I thought it looked like a kid's toy."

"Oh yeah, I can see that," Kon says, squinting assessingly at it. "Like those chunky toddler ones?" 

"Yeah, like those," Tim confirms with a nod. "Fisher-Price, Duplo, that kind of thing." 

"I'll take your word on that one, man, my 'toddler' stage only lasted about half a day and I was sedated for it," Kon replies in amusement. Tim seethes internally and thinks very uncharitable thoughts about Cadmus. 

"I said I'll shoot!" the thief holding him says furiously, tightening his arm across Tim's neck. It's still not actually enough to hurt, but again, Tim appreciates seeing a little more effort. "Give us the idol, you stupid brat!" 

"I'm trying to help you out here," Kon says, looking exasperated. "You're just making shit worse for yourself the longer you keep this up. Put down the gun and let the guy go, you'll get a way lighter sentence." 

"Fuck you!" the thief shouts. "The power of the idol will protect us!" 

"The idol that I am currently holding, you mean?" Kon says, hefting it meaningfully. "The one that is in specifically my possession and not yours?" 

Tim does understand that talking people down is the preferred approach and Kon can't actually super-speed this problem away, but Kon could at least pretend to be taking this seriously. From his perspective, there's a civilian hostage with a gun to their head and an angry criminal with their finger on the trigger, but he's acting like there isn't any danger in the situation at all.

Tim gets the posturing thing and the general "cooler than thou" attitude Kon likes to present, but it's definitely not making any of the thieves calm down. Like, not at all is it making any of the thieves calm down. 

This incident report is going to be very annoying to write. 

"It's not yours!" Lisa shrieks at him. 

"You literally threw it at me," Kon says. "I only have it because you threw it at me. Also pretty sure it's not yours either, given all the screaming alarms and broken glass and the smashed-in wall I am currently standing in the wreckage of."

Tim starts wondering if maybe he should revisit his "tripping" plan. He doesn't really want to pull any Robin-esque moves in front of Kon, but also dying would really fuck up all that hard work he's put into being Bruce's emotional support sidekick. Also two dead Robins in a row could not possibly end well. Especially in such a stupid way. Especially in Metropolis. 

"You don't even know what you're holding, you idiot!" Lisa fumes.

"A toddler toy, I thought we established," Kon says. "'Doopler' or something?"

"Duplo," Tim corrects, internally calculating tripping angles. 

"That one, yeah," Kon amends. "Doppo." 

Tim, resignedly, thinks his determined commitment to pointlessly fucking up is adorable. Also still hates Cadmus and has the irrational urge to buy him a teddy bear or something, although Kon would definitely just think he was fucking with him if he did.

Maybe he could just smuggle one into his room and disavow all knowledge of its existence. That's an option. 

"Give us the idol now!" the thief holding Tim snarls, his face twisting in rage. 

"Yeah, no," Kon says. 

"You little–!" the thief starts to yell, and then his trigger finger slips. Tim knows this because the gun goes off right next to his ear. 

And right against his temple. 

Half the room screams and the thief yells and drops the gun, recoiling in horror. It goes off again as it hits the floor and a bullet shatters a historically-significant vase the way one should have shattered Tim's personally-significant skull. 

What the fuck?

"Shit, sorry, that was probably kinda loud," Kon says apologetically, wincing a little but otherwise looking completely unphased by all of that. Tim blinks, very slowly, and attempts to restore his resting heart rate. It's not a particularly successful attempt.

"Yeah, kinda," he says.

"Sorry, sound waves are harder to block," Kon apologizes, pointing at his own ear with his free hand, and Tim remembers the other's total lack of concern for any threat to civilian life this whole time and realizes that was because, from Kon's perspective, there wasn't any actual threat.

Huh. 

Well, that explains why neither the gun barrel nor the being choked thing actually hurt at any point, doesn't it.

"Oh," Tim says, looking down at the floor that they are, in fact, all still standing on. "Tactile telekinesis?"

"You've heard of it?" Kon says, looking pleased. 

"Once or twice," Tim says, managing not to say it too dryly. Kon looks even more pleased. "I didn't know you could use it like that, though." 

"Practice makes perfect," Kon replies smugly.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young justice #young just us #rinfic #long post #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

[xfancyuu]

~ now i draw a luxury nxde. [aemond targaryen] 18+ SMUT

because it's the beginning of spring i wanted to post for that so in universe it is also warm and flowers are blooming! reader is afab with she/her pronouns & my requests are open! this could be read as though it's in the same universe as my other bolton!reader works, though she's married to aemond and is referred to as lady targaryen. there are no appearance indicators in this fic, this is kinda canon divergence. also i didn't bold the dialogue for this one and i actually think i'm gonna go and reformat my other fics to match! this fic is also known as frolicking and fucking so yeah that's what you're in for. smut will be indicated with a different coloured line break if you do not wish to read it. [1,757 words]

this fic contains: wall sex, public sex, dressed sex, choking, spitting, voyeurism, name-calling, corruption kink, attempted dirty talk? y'all are just newly married and experimenting tbh, y'all degrade each other, slight orgasm denial, cumming inside. if i missed any please lmk!

You had never imagined life as a married woman to be so blissful. You had heard from the ladies in court that they simply did their marital duty and did not enjoy spending time with their husbands. They had told you that the bliss would wear off within the year once you had children, and they would steal your beauty.

You had all but rolled your eyes at their commentary. They were rude and bitter, seeking your own mood to be as equally unhappy as their own. They nitpicked at everything you did, from reading too much to what you ate and how you conducted yourself. Loneliness truly was more appealing than spending ceaseless amounts of time with women who were your mother's age and almost as bitter. Being surrounded with unmarried women was improper, they had told you — not that you paid them mind, as your ladies in waiting were all unmarried and far better company.

You found yourself in the gardens with your ladies-in-waiting more often than not, the weather was pleasant, and you'd much rather be outside than wallow inside without much joy. Flowers had brought you much more joy than you had anticipated, they livened your mood from the dreaded time spent with the married ladies in court. They wouldn't be seen outside without reason, whereas you did not care much for the opinions and thoughts of others in court, despite being a Princess.

The book within your lap had become much more interesting than whatever your ladies were gossiping about, you hadn't cared much for the people they were talking about, but the adventure of Lady Sunderland and her times in the Reach were too addictive to put down. Your ladies' had tried to gain your attention one too many times, but you were too engrossed in the book to care for the outside world.

The book was abruptly taken from your hands, making you both lose the page you were ready and had caused your brain to be hazy. You were both mad and irritated by the actions of someone clearly trying to ruin your day. "Do you mind?" You had asked, not expecting to see your husband as you looked up.

"Is it a crime for me to want to spend time with my wife?" Aemond had asked you, extending his hand as if expecting you to take it despite disturbing your peace.

"It's a crime when you snatch my book off of me and expect me to be happy about it." You retorted, deciding it was probably better to go along with him, and took his help to get off the grass. "Lucky for you, I like you enough not to lock you up."

"Oh how merciful." Aemond responded, not removing your hand from his grasp, "the flowers are blooming, you should be looking at the world instead of living in your books."

"I'll have you know I can do both equally," You retorted, leading Aemond away from the prying eyes and sharp ears of your ladies, "Now you're here you might as well keep me company if you won't let me read, perhaps a walk around the garden would do us both some good."

"I have a better idea than touring the gardens," Aemond had pulled you into a secluded pathway leading away from the hustle and bustle of everybody else.

"Your ideas always end up with us in trouble." You weren't entirely wrong, the disapproving look of Queen Alicent would be forever engrained in your brain.

"They may be troublesome, but you always have fun." You couldn't disagree, instead you simply followed Aemond to whichever location he wanted to show you.

Aemond had abruptly left you in the morning, leaving you needy and begging for him to finish the job he'd started yet he had left you without a thought for your own well-being. You could somewhat blame your crankiness and willingness to do such a deviant act in public with the possibility of anybody seeing and reporting such acts to the Queen.

The thought that you shouldn't be doing this had crossed your mind — the words would not leave your mouth though, you had wanted to do this, neediness had seeped in, with your skirts and underclothes raised above your waist, your modesty was damned and so were you.

The carnal need and desire you felt within yourself had put all your thoughts out the window, if you were in your usual mind frame you would have told Aemond no, that it was improper but words would not form in your throat. Instead, you kissed him back with almost as much longing.

The insatiability you had felt was consuming you, yet it felt more so annoying, Aemond hadn't truly done anything to you to make you feel this way, little touches and long stares did not warrant you feeling so flustered by the man so much you'd let him take you any which way he wanted.

You were expecting the current position you were in — being in public had never been a boundary you crossed with each other, yet he had so little patience when it had come to you, not even checking if the garden was secluded enough not to have prying eyes follow you, "Who knew my lady wife could be such a whore?" Aemond had whispered in your ear, though you could not form words of your own, "Wanting me to take her right now with not a care in the world who witnesses it."

"I think you can only get your cock up with the thought of an audience, you leave me so frustrated when we're alone in our chamber."

"You may come to regret that, wife." Aemond had always had to get the last word, "Your tongue may be sharp, but I will fuck you until you can't form another sentence." He'd begun unlacing his trousers, and you truly knew you were in for it — whatever it entailed, you weren't sure.

"You keep saying what you're going to do, but you haven't even stuck it in yet, tell me husband, are you struggling? Do you need me to help you stick it in? Can you not find the hole?" You couldn't finish your light-hearted taunting Aemond had entered you with little care, it was sloppy and lustful as though he felt as much need as you did.

You couldn't stay quiet, not with how intoxicating Aemond had felt inside, thrusting himself as far as he could inside of you, the slow pace was comfortable but irritating, you wanted it fast and hard, you wanted Aemond to show you the side of himself he hid away, the side which would make you blush if you so much as thought about it.

You were so used to being in control, Aemond had ensured you always felt comfortable and could stop at any moment but seeing him so dominant had made you tingle, then gasp as you felt a hand around your throat. "You've got to be quiet, you don't want the world to hear you, do you? Don't want the world to hear what a whore you become for cock."

The sight of your ladies seeing you in such a position had the opposite effect than what you thought it would, the idea of corrupting them as much as you had been corrupted had you clenching around Aemond's cock.

"Not so fast, princess," Aemond spoke, his pace slowing and causing the momentum and build-up to your own orgasm to be depleted. "Good girls get to cum, you've not been a good girl, have you?"

You couldn't respond, the hand wrapped around your throat had become tighter, "Going to cum inside you, princess, have you got a problem with that?" You had tried to shake your head, but with the grip Aemond had on your throat, your head hadn't moved an inch.

Aemond had increased his speed, and you knew he was close to his own peak despite ruining your own, the pettiness within you had decided if you didn't get your release neither was Aemond. As if sensing your plans, Aemond thrust into you harder, keeping you in place as though you were a doll he could do what he pleased. "You're going to take my seed, and you're going to thank me for it."

Your orgasm was too sudden for you to realise what was happening, from the words Aemond spoke to the way he was fucking you, it was far too much to process and your body reacted entirely by itself. You knew disobeying Aemond would have consequences but in the depth of your own pleasure and Aemond continuing to fuck you, you didn't care. You'd take any punishment to feel a moment of the pleasure you were currently feeling.

"Naughty girl." Aemond whispered in your ear as you came down from your high, "I thought you'd finally be a good girl, though I suppose I set my standards too high for you. Open your mouth."

You did as he commanded, not wanting to make him more upset with you. However, you weren't prepared for him to spit in your mouth — or to like it as much as you did. "You belong to me and you do as I say."

It hadn't taken long for Aemond to spill his seed within you, his grip on your throat loosening and his teeth biting into your skin. It wasn't often you had allowed him to cum inside you — the prospect of what would follow being in the forefront of your mind. "I'm yours." You reassured Aemond as he came down from his climax.

"Are you okay there?" You had asked, not used to such an intense reaction from Aemond, "I really enjoyed myself." You reassured him, you were so close and the euphoria of the situation had you cradling Aemond within your arms.

"It was just a bit... much, I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked, pulling out of you. At that moment, you knew you'd need to bathe. The feeling of his seed coming out of you had you almost recoiling.

"Trust me, you'd know if you were hurting me." You didn't want to approach the subject of being witnessed in such an act. "Your mother may be expecting more grandchildren soon."

"Moontea exists, my dear." You hadn't been married a year yet, it wasn't entirely suspicious that you had not shown signs of being pregnant. "And for what it's worth, I enjoy our time just being the two of us."

as always, thank you for reading this! i really appreciate it. i really enjoy writing for aemond so if y'all have any requests send them my way. my next hotd fic will be for helaena so if that interests you just message me! crossposted on ao3 under the name hedonism!

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf imagine #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x y/n #i just had fun writing this if you couldnt tell #basically i watched the tudors and yeah #i think this is the filthiest thing i've wrote

[spidernuggets]

Hi hope you’re having a good/night can you do a Jason Todd x detective fem reader. She meets Jason , but she meets him when he’s red hood at a crime scene.

Jason Todd x FemDetective!Reader

"So you're the guy that's making my paperwork pile up higher than the Empire State Building."

"Christ, another one?" One of your coworkers said as the limp, dead body was zipped up into a body, and evidence collected and put away.

You shrug a shoulder, writing down in your notepad a list of suspects and witnesses involved in this new murder, which was also linked to other recent killings.

"Adam Matthews." You state the victim's name.

"Drug dealer?" Your coworker asks, looking at the substance that Matthews had on his person being bagged for evidence.

"Mm. He was a cook for a drug dealer who tested on homeless kids or orphans. But Matthews was also known for being an accessory for other murders, kidnappings, and was guilty for sexual assaults," you state, sighing, putting your notebook away.

Your coworker fell shocked. "How the fuck is he not locked up?!" He yells.

"Links with richies," you scoff. "Well, he's dead now. His long, overdue debt it now paid." You always believed these kinds of people never deserved a second chance. All the previous murder victims were similar to Adam Matthews. So, others may call you crazy, but you were thankful for this anonymous killer going out of their way, killing scumbags like Matthews.

"I'm going to scout around the area, Parks," you told your coworker as he nodded and went to discuss with the other officers around the area.

You shone your flashlight around the narrow alleys, searching for any clues or evidence you could use to help solve the crime and catch the murderer. Or in your eyes an anti-hero.

Just as you were about to turn around and return to the scene, you heard grunts and strings of profanity coming from behind one of the dumpsters.

Your hand hovered over your gun in your hip holster, walking towards the sounds.

You swiftly turned to see the source, hand on the handle of the gun, and saw a certain, outlawed vigilante leaning on the dumpster, holding his arm, his body stained with blood.

His helmet lay in between his legs, his domino mask remaining on his face.

"What the fu- Red Hood??" You exclaim.

"You mind?" He groans, holding his hand out, trying to avoid the flash shining in his eyes.

"Shit, sorry," you reoly, turning it off and placing it on your utility belt. Your head tilted to the side, seeing that Red Hood was struggling to wrap his arm up. "It's loose," you say, referring to the bandage- or rag that he was tying around his bicep.

"Wow, really? Didn't- fuck- didn't notice," he says, cursing once more when the bandage fell down.

You roll your eyes, crouching beside his and taking the bandage from his, unwrapping his arm and rewrapping it tighter as it should be.

"So you're the guy that's making my paperwork pile up higher than the Empire State Building." You mutter, tying the bandage to stay in place.

"Sorry, little cop lady. Just doing my job." He hisses.

"It's little detrctice lady to you. And I'd appreciate it if you made your little killing sprees a little more discreet. Eventually, the actual cops are gonna catch your ass," you snicker, getting up.

"As if I let them." He bites back.

"L/n. Where are you?" Parks says through your walkie. "Did you find anything?"

Red Hood gets up, putting his helmet back on, looking down at you, waiting for your response.

You click on the button to reply. "No. Nothing here. Coming back now."

The white glowing eyes pierce through yours as Red Hood chuckles. "Hiding a criminal? Haven't taken a look through the law book in a while, but isn't that illegal?" You couldn't see it, but Red Hood grinned, amised at this new encounter.

You shrugged. "I'm only doing this because I know I can't stop you, even if I wanted to. Besides. If these ass rat criminals kept scurrying around, the papaerwork would be much more than you're making." You smirk.

He laughs. "So you're saying you don't want to stop me?" He crosses his arms.

"Have a good night, Mr. Hood." You bid him goodbye, walking back to the crime scene.

"And to you too, little detective lady," he says, quietly hoping to run into again after he puts lead into the head of his next target.

"Jeez, I thought you died or something. You were gone for a while, are you sure you didn't find anything?" Parks quickly asks you.

You quickly wipe away the blood on your palms from Red Hood's wound onto your black jeans. "Save the interrogation for the suspects, Parks. Nothing there but dead rats and graffiti."

You walk off, almost missing the shine of a red helmet running off on the roof of a building in the distance as you smirk to yourself, also secretly hoping Red Hood would cause another casualty to meet him again.

Parks was about to walk off, too, almost missing the tiniest splotch of red on your white shirt as he raised an eyebrow.

I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE IT SO SHORT!!!

I didn't want to leave this ask in my inbox for too long and forget about it 😭😭

BUTTTT if you or anyone else wants!!! I can make a part 2 where Reader and Red Hood begin a constant meetup after every death Red Hood causes (only to those criminals who deserve it, obvi). And Parks becomes suspicious of Reader and threatens her or that Reader's job is put on the line!!!!

I was going to add this idea in, but I'm really bad at making long fics cuz I always wanna get it over and done with and I'm so impatient 😭

HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT ANYWAYS 🙏🙏

#mickeysideas #jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #jason todd is my life #titans jason todd #red hood x reader #dc titans #i love jason todd #jason todd titans #jason todd headcanon #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd ff #jason todd fluff #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #red hood x female reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood fluff #red hood fic #red hood fanfiction #red hood angst #red hood jason todd

[save-the-villainous-cat]

“Where would be the fun in telling you the whole story?” the villain asked. They leaned forward in their chair, handcuffs rattling. “C’mon, you’re clever. Surprise me.”

“I know you’ve murdered a supervillain. An incredibly powerful non-human being. Someone, well, something I’ve been chasing after for years.” The hero crossed their arms in front of their chest. Was it really that easy? An entire threat being reduced to nothing because of the villain? “People might start calling you a hero.”

“A hero? Would that make me your what? Partner?”

“Well, right now you’re under investigation for murder. Even if it’s a supervillain, it’s still a crime.” The hero couldn’t wrap their head around why the villain would kill an ally that easily. It wasn’t like the villain was a particularly active one. More or less, they were like a puppet master, controlling other people from behind the scenes. That was dangerous enough in itself but the villain being active, being a threat instead of controlling the threads was even more worrying.

“You are the one who questioned the supervillain’s humanity just now. They’re something, not someone,” the villain pointed out.

That was foul. Using the hero’s words against them wasn’t new but both of them were fully aware of the contradiction here — was it wrong to kill a bad person? And was it right to get convicted for that?

“Is that a confession?”

The villain cocked their head, smirking even.

“You tell me. Is that enough to lock me up?”

“The evidence speaks for itself.”

“You’re drawing conclusions based on assumptions,” the villain argued. “And after all, they were a friend of mine. Why on earth should I kill someone who’s my friend?”

Indeed, the motive was the only inexplicable part in all of this.

“We have found samples of your DNA at the crime scene.”

“The victim and I used to meet there quite often to discuss work. You can ask my employees, I have a perfect record of my whereabouts for the last few months.” They looked the hero up and down, as if this was a date instead of an interrogation. They smiled when the hero’s eyes met theirs.

“You have bruises on your arms,” the hero pointed out. “The…victim was struggling before they died. There was quite the fight.”

Suddenly, the villain didn’t look as amused as before.

“You have bruises on your arms as well,” they said.

The hero blushed.

Unfortunately, a week ago the hero had actually attempted to take down the supervillain. They’d been beaten to a horrific degree and only thanks to modern medicine, they were walking and breathing.

Two days ago, some of the supervillain’s henchmen had “visited” the hero to make sure they’d gotten the message. They were still limping, refusing to go back to their medic again.

“My bruises are from practice. You can ask my martial arts teacher, I was with him yesterday.” They eyed the hero’s bruises, so the hero pushed down their sleeves.

The hero sighed.

“I’m sure all your ‘employees’ and your ‘martial arts teacher’ are in on this?” The hero closed their eyes, letting their hand go over their face a couple of times. “I know it was you. But…why? I’m a good detective. I will get more evidence. And I will most certainly figure out why you did it.”

The villain stared at them, their interest focused on the index finger the hero was holding up. They looked up at the hero eventually.

“Don’t break your pretty little head thinking too much about it, hm?”

#they’re not an elite employee #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

[invidiia]

can you do more teenage platonic yandere ones 🙏🙏 i love them bro

one suggestion is them (chuuya, ranpo, dazai, sigma, idek) w a rebellious teenager 🙏🙏🙏🙏

sorry, you've been misinformed.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ "we appreciate." 𖤐 separate platonic yanderes chuuya, ranpo, dazai, sigma x reader

these mfs cannot deal with rebellious teenagers!!!!

m.list // previous

[ a/n ; HI SILLIES SORRY I DIDNT DO A YANXREADER POST YESTERDAY IDKFKKFKFCX ANYWAY HERES THE PLATONIC YANDERE SILLY PEOPLE ?! ]

[ warning ; platonic yandere, lowkey crack 😭😭, stalking ]

— CHUUYA NAKAHARA

⋆ lord, please give this man the patience to deal with you

⋆ he gets it, he was a rebellious teenager too, but so? he doesn't have time for you to act this way, like at all. probably best to just,, cooperate

⋆ chuuya has to put a lot of time into his job, being an executive and all, so that leaves you a lot of time to go do rebellious teenager shit

⋆ you can imagine it's pretty often he comes back to find you not there, or if you go to school, he'll get calls about you skipping class to go do whatever it was teenagers did when they skipped

⋆ yokohama mall is huge, perfect place to go to have fun and get away from chuuya!! it most definitely ends with you getting dragged out of the mall doors by your collar and shoved into the backseat of the car to go home, but it was fun anyway.

⋆ funny ass little arguments, too. "and if i find out you left when i come back, you'll regret it." "uh-huh, i bet i will." "just shut up and stay here."

⋆ please take him seriously, or at least pretend to, for his own sanity 😭

— RANPO EDOGAWA

⋆ ranpo doesn't take you seriously at all.

⋆ even if he knows you'll actually go do something stupid, he won't take you seriously. and when you go do it, consequences await you anyway 🤷

⋆ no point in keeping secrets, he already knows

⋆ plans to sneak out? getting stuff without permission? anything you keep from him? yeah, he knew already lol

⋆ lowkey draws a line at going against him and doing illegal stuff. committing any kind of crime? lmao no, he'll just keep you with him at all times or something which is probably embarrassing asf

⋆ am i wrong to think he may drag poe into this? maybe, shrug

— OSAMU DAZAI

⋆ he doesn't have time either, i almost feel bad for him

⋆ he's like ranpo actually, has no shame in forcing you almost everywhere with him or leaving you to atsushi which is really evil, poor atsushi

⋆ arguments are funny as hell (for him) probably you yelling and trying to make a point and explain why you do whatever you do or something and dazai just laughing and not listening LMAO

⋆ "that's crazy kid lmao" "i'm trying to make a point, don't fucking call me that."

⋆ doesn't really care about you yelling at him. just forces you everywhere with him

⋆ remember in chuuya's part where you just sneak into yokohama mall to get away from him and have fun? too bad lmao, dazai knew you were coming and followed you anyway!! just when you thought you were finally alone, away from the suffocating presence of dazai and could terrorize the shoppers in peace, nope LOL

⋆ he just tags along with you, keeping a hand on your shoulder and a smile on his face while you just grit your teeth and deal with him. "can we just go home?" "no wayy, didn't you wanna come here?" "not with you."

— SIGMA

⋆ poor guy lmao

⋆ literally has to stop you from terrorizing the customers or damaging the casino somehow

⋆ a little hard to sneak out unless you have an ability or another person to help you

⋆ cue nikolai coming to the casino to bother sigma and then helping you sneak out because it'll annoy sigma and he doesn't care LMAO

⋆ probably ends up locking you in your room because he doesn't trust you enough to keep you with him. sigma learned that from a past mistake he made with you

⋆ "wait, this card is damaged. the game isn't valid, therefore, you need to replay." and then the teenager next to him probably being the one who messed up the card LOL

#bsd x reader #platonic yandere bsd #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #sigma x reader #ranpo x reader #yandere bsd x reader #yandere bsd #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #platonic yandere

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Nice to Meet You

Jaime Reyes x Reader

Fandom: DCEU

Summary: You and Jaime have been kicking ass together for years, but you’ve never seen his face before. Hell, you don’t even know his name. That changes one night when he shows up on your doorstep, injured.

Notes: So I had a dream last night that I was in a Miraculous Ladybug situation with Jaime, so have this fic hahaha. Also I have never seen Miraculous so…idek where it came from.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries

Word Count: 1.3k

Reader is: Female, Apollo’s champion

Being a superhero and a normal person with a normal-ish life was not for the faint of heart. You spent your days working in the local history museum, your afternoons getting whatever sleep you could, and your nights sitting by the police scanner, waiting for news of some rogue giant robot or guy with a freeze gun. As it was, you were in no position to expose your identity. Not even to your partner.

Your mission partner, that was, the Blue Beetle.

You’d been fighting crime with him for the past three years, a few times every week. It had started as an accident. He’d show up to the same crime scenes you did, helping evacuate people out of burning buildings, stopping rampaging mutants from the questionable labs popping up around town, redirecting a plane with a broken propeller. It was admirable. He was admirable.

You’d never seen his face. You didn’t even know his first name. You knew his power came from the scarab in his back, an alien symbiote that was bonded to his body. It talked to him sometimes, like a computer, analyzing things. It also served as body armor and a built in artillery of weapons.

The scarab saved his ass a lot, basically. And yours, too. You couldn’t count the amount of times he’d saved you from blows you’d never seen coming.

Which is why you were so surprised to hear a knock on your door, Beetle’s voice on the other side of it sounding…worried.

“Suncatcher? Are you home? I…I…I need some help!”

You were surprised to hear it at all, actually. You didn’t think he knew where you lived.

Also, you weren’t in costume, just in a cropped tee and some sweats, hair pulled back and face bare. Not that your mask covered a lot of your face, but it gave you anonymity. Or at least, you thought it did.

You pushed the thoughts aside when you heard him knock again, preparing for the very real possibility that someone had cloned his voice and was using your public-ish friendship against you.

You lit your fist with power and crept towards the door of your townhouse, peering through the peephole to find…nothing. You pulled the door open slowly and looked around. Sitting on the cement outside your door was a guy with luscious black curls, and, more importantly, a giant gaping wound on his stomach.

“S-Suncatcher?” He asked, meeting your eyes, tears brimming in his own.

“Oh my God.” You dropped to your knees, looking over him. “What happened?”

“Y-you’re…?”

“It’s me. It’s me. I’m here.”

“I didn’t know where else to go…” He confessed.

“It’s okay, hey, can you stand? Where’s Khaji?”

“Offline.” He groaned as you helped him off the ground. It was clear he’d lost a lot of blood. You closed the door behind the two of you and locked it, lowering him onto the couch.

“How long have you been out there?” You asked, assessing the injury.

“Not long.” He assured you, moving to support the wound.

You took a breath, grounding yourself before tapping deeper into your powers, sunlight lit in your palms, creeping up your arms. “Alright Blue, I need to get in there.”

“Jaime. My name is Jaime.” He told you, pain etched across his handsome features. “Nice to finally meet you, sunshine. Wish it was under better circumstances.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” You replied, too preoccupied to offer your name in return. You gently lifted the fabric from his battered torso, revealing the wound. It was pretty bad, but it wouldn’t be for long. Using the power from your patron, you extended your hand, your glowing sunlight working to close the wound with warmth and precision.

Jaime watched, his eyes wide. He stared at you as you set to work. It tingled, the spot in his abdomen, where he’d been stabbed repeatedly by a guy with a glowing green sword. But it didn’t hurt anymore. And less than a minute later, it wasn’t there at all, completely smoothed over without so much as a scar.

You turned your attention to his face, where there was a cut across his nose, a purpled bruise on his chin.

If Khaji was online, he was sure she’d tell him about his increased heartrate due to your proximity, that focused look in your eye as you soothed his pain away. But she wasn’t. That was a problem he’d have to solve later.

The glow in your palms dimmed and you met his eyes, looking relieved. “Any other injuries I should know about?”

“Nah, I think that about covers it.” He replied, still staring at you. Maybe he’d never stop. “How did you…?”

“My patron, Apollo. The god of…well, lots of stuff, but healing is one of them. I’ll leave him an offering later.” You explained. “He’s pretty chill, as far as deities go. Met him when I got my job at the museum and, well, the rest is history.”

“That’s really cool.” He said, sitting up without trouble. “I didn’t know that.”

“I guess it never came up.” You shrugged. “My name is (Y/N), by the way. Would have introduced myself earlier if I wasn’t so busy trying to prevent you from bleeding out in my apartment.”

“Thanks for that, by the way.”

You smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

He took in your face, seeing most of it for the first time. He smiled, eyes soft and sparkling, voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re really pretty, (Y/N).”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Jaime.” You looked him over, taking him in for the first time. Warm brown eyes, a handsome face, fluffy black curls, toned build. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding all this under that suit of yours.”

He laughed, sheepish. “We should have done this sooner.”

“Way sooner.” You agreed. “Not the fatal wound part, of course, but…we could have gotten coffee or something.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” He murmured, leaning closer. “If I’m moving too fast, stop me.”

“You’re not.” You replied, a hand cupping his face as you pressed your lips to his. He melted at the contact, arm settling around your waist and tugging you closer to him. “I’ve been waiting to do this for…so long.”

He rested his forehead against yours. “That makes two of us.”

***

At the museum, a few weeks later, you sat at the guide desk in the center of the lobby, typing away on your laptop, researching an ancient relic Apollo was interested in, a necklace he’d gifted to the Oracle of Delphi that had gotten into the wrong hands.

Someone cleared their throat. You looked up to find Jaime there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“Is this where I find the pretty tour guide? If she’s not too busy, that is.”

“Jaime!” You leapt to your feet, walking around the edge of the desk and straight into his arms.

“Hey, sunshine. Thought I’d come brighten up your day.”

“My day has been brightened.” You assured him, pressing a long kiss to his soft lips.

“Khaji, not now.” He murmured, cheeks burning red.

“Hi, Khaji.” You whispered.

He chuckled. “She says hi.”

“This must be Jaime. I’m (Y/N)’s coworker, Jess.” Your favorite coworker introduced. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. Is it alright if I steal her for a bit? I’m excited to finally see the place.”

“Oh, of course. You two have fun. I’ll put those in water for you.” Jess said, taking the flowers with a careful hand and a knowing smile.

Jaime took your hand and you led him proudly through your workplace. You loved getting to know the real him, without a mask in the way. Finally, your two lives had combined into one and you couldn’t be happier.

#jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes #jaime reyes imagine #blue beetle #blue beetle x reader #dc

[querenciasturniolo]

your fic “obviously” is my literal favorite!!! could you do one that would be surrounding the idea of the triplets and y/n decide to do a corn maze and y/n partners up with nick but nick runs off and leaves y/n behind and when chris & matt get out they see nick and matt starts to worry about y/n so he goes back in to find her?? add your own little spin on it if you’d like but it would just be so cute to see how much he really cares for her through the worry he has🥹

maze ⮕ m.s.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: swearing, worry, anxiety

summary: you and nick decided to go through a corn maze, and when nick leaves you behind after a particularly heart-stopping jump scare, matt goes in to find you

a/n: i changed it just a little bit 🤏🏻 hope you enjoy 💓

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

Boston was perfect for the fall.

The brownish red leaves crunching under your feet, the brisk air pinkening your cheeks and the tip of your nose, and especially the fall festivities. You and Nick went absolutely ballistic for anything fall related, which is why the two of you got along so well. Matt and Chris loved fall as well, but not to the extent of you and Nick.

It was your idea to go to a scream park, the three boys hesitant but they agreed anyway. The four of you had been walking around the park, laughing and flinching at every one of the scare actors.

“You guys, we have to do the corn maze.” You said, Nick’s eyes widening as he shook his head. “Oh, come on! You won’t even do it once? Just for the experience?” You pressed, Nick sighing and running a hand through his hair.

“I guess, you two down?” He asked.

Chris scoffed and shook his head. “Yeah, right. Not a chance.” You looked over at Matt, who was already shaking his head.

“We’ll wait here for you two to get out, but that’s about as far into a maze I’m going.” Matt said, holding his hands up in defense.

You sighed and shrugged your shoulders, looping your arm in Nick’s and walking towards the maze. “I have a feeling it isn’t going to be that bad.” You said. Nick looked over at you with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, okay.” He grumbled, his grip on your arm tight.

The maze was decorated with crime scene tape, signs saying different things covered in fake blood, and scarecrows around every corner. Nick was convinced the scarecrows were going to jump out in front of the two of you, but it had yet to happen.

“Nick, you’re being dramatic, just chill. Besides, if you’re not scared, the scarers leave you alone.” You said, Nick scoffing. He opened his mouth to speak, but a scream ripped through his throat as someone jumped out of the corn and ran past the two of you.

Nick’s arm was ripped from yours and all you saw was him sprinting into the darkness ahead of you, completely leaving you behind in the middle of nowhere.

“Well, fuck.” You whispered, slowly walking through the maze by yourself, flinching at every swish of the corn and every flutter of nearby birds. It somehow seemed darker now that you were alone, your nerves heightened as you turned different corners.

Matt and Chris were sitting on a bench right outside of the maze, scrolling on their phones and occasionally showing each other what was on their screens. Nick burst through the exit of the maze moments later, his breathing heavy and his eyes wide.

“How was the maze?” Chris asked, locking his phone and sliding it into his pocket. Nick shook his head. He bent at the waist and rested his hands on his knees.

“It was fucking terrible, never let me do that shit again. That was a bad idea.” He said, his breathing finally level enough to stand up straight. Matt and Chris shook their heads and laughed, talking to Nick for just a few minutes before Matt stopped and looked behind Nick. A few couples had walked out of the maze exit, but you were nowhere in sight.

“Nick?” Matt said, Nick’s attention turned to him. “Where’s Y/n?”

Nick turned to face the exit, his entire body rigid as he looked back at Matt with wide eyes. “I lost her about halfway through, that’s when I ran.” He said.

Matt’s jaw dropped. “You left her in the maze? Nick, what the fuck?” He asked, Nick holding his hands up in defense.

“I didn’t think she’d get fucking lost!” Nick said. Matt scoffed and shook his head.

“I’ll go find her, Jesus.” Matt grumbled, walking into the exit of the maze. Matt was never a fan of mazes, especially when it was too dark. He turned his phone flashlight on, walking past the people walking in the opposite direction as he searched for you.

Once he got a good distance away from the exit, there were less and less people. He grumbled under his breath, just wanting to find you and get the fuck out of here. He tried calling you, but it went straight to voicemail. Jesus Christ, he hoped you didn’t try to cut through the corn or something, because then you could have been anywhere.

Okay, shit was starting to get scary.

You couldn’t see anything, and your phone died about ten minutes ago. You’d lost sight of anyone a few minutes before, and you were freaking out. You kept one hand out, brushing against the rough stalks of corn to make sure you were going the right direction. Your other hand was shaking in your hoodie pocket, gripping your phone like a vice to keep you grounded. If it wasn’t for you, you wouldn’t have been in this situation to begin with, and you’d probably be eating elephant ears by the fire pit and joking around with your friends. But no, you had to be an idiot and get lost in a corn maze.

You turned a corner, a light blinding you as your stomach dropped and you screamed, nearly flying into the corn next to you.

“It’s me, it’s me!” The voice said, your heart pounding as your eyes finally adjusted.

“Matt? Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me!” You said, your hand resting on your chest as you caught your breath.

“How the fuck did you get lost? There’s one path.” Matt said, turning around and heading the opposite direction.

You rolled your eyes and fell in line with him, flinching when the corn rustled next to you and bumping into him. “I slowed down when Nick left me for dead so I wouldn’t trip and faceplant.” You said, Matt scoffing as he held his phone out in front of the two of you.

Before he could say anything, another scare actor jumped out of the corn right in front of you, your arm looping with Matt’s as you hid your face in his shoulder. You wouldn’t have flinched so hard if your nerves weren’t already so high. Matt flinched of course, but he just kept the two of you walking, letting you hold onto his arm and press your face into his shoulder.

“We’re almost there, I promise.” He said, you nodding against his hoodie sleeve and mumbling a response. Matt chuckled and shook his head, leading you through the maze and finally out of the exit. “We’re out.” He said, your head lifting from his shoulder to see Chris and Nick, Nick’s face contorted in a sheepish smile.

“Sorry.” He said, you smiling and shaking your head.

“It’s fine, scaredy cat.” You looked over at Chris, his eyebrows raised. You stared back at him. “What?”

Chris shook his head, an amused smile on his face. “Oh nothing, but you do realize you can let go of Matt now, right?” He said. Before you could let go, Matt’s hand entwined with yours.

“She can hold on to me for as long as she likes, considering I’m the only one that went after her in the maze.” He said matter of factly. You ignored the way your face heated up, lightly squeezing his hand in thanks.

Chris scoffed, his jaw dropped. “Dude, you went before I could even process that Nick fucking left her in there!” He countered, a laugh leaving your lips as the four of you started walking to one of the food stands.

“Excuses, excuses.” Matt said, looking down at you and winking as the four of you stepped into the line, your hand still encased in Matt’s, warmth radiating through your entire body.

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

[undertakerslxt]

pay me back | undertaker x f!reader

title; pay me back

warnings; mentions of pregnancy/forced pregnancy. some implied non/dub-con. major teasing. humiliation kink. unprotected sex (wrap ur willy before u do the silly!). finishing inside. toys (nipple/clit clamps). undertaker being sort of cruel. degradation/slut shaming. desk sex/coffin sex. vibrator. major possessiveness from ut. use of titles (sir). definite bdsm. brief bondage. implied murder of someone else. overstimulation.

summary; you're a noblewoman with a job to report back information to the queen, and the mysterious undertaker is your informant. your usual payment is sex, but after you go to a different undertaker for information, he gets angry and decides to teach you a lesson by playing a little game with you.

song inspo; dangerous (for your entertainment also works well)

word count; 1.8k

notes; i've said this before and i will say it again. it is a federal crime undertaker does not exist. also it’s 4am, i’m tired and it’s not beta read, so i apologize if it seems rushed or underwritten.

The shop was quiet when you stepped in, and you blinked to adjust your eyes to the darkness. "Undertaker?" You called, glancing about.

"So you've finally shown your face. I was wondering when you would be brave enough to come back here after your little betrayal."

Shit. He knew.

"You weren't home—"

A hand shot from the darkness and pulled you to the nearest coffin. Unbeknownst to you, while talking, he had locked the door and turned the sign to closed. He wasn't about to have this time interrupted. "You could have come by later, or waited for me," his voice growled in your ear. Deft hands made quick work of pulling your skirts up to your waist. He pressed his knee between your legs, holding your hands behind your back. "Instead, someone decided to go to another shop for information, and if a little birdie told me right, even flirted."

"I didn't! I was only asking for further information on the recent murders—"

"Hush, doll, I'm the one talking."

You shivered as a cold nail ran up the back of your leg, then lightly flicked your womanhood. "Did you show that other undertaker your pussy? Perhaps you just showed off your cleavage, hoping he would give you anything you wanted."

You swallowed.

A light smack to your thigh told you he wanted an answer now. "Well, did you get what you wanted? Showing off your body?"

"He didn't give me the information I needed, no," you whispered, unable to look behind you.

A dark chuckle sent shivers up your spine. "You should know by now I'm the only one who can give you what you need. Information and otherwise." He pressed his knee harder into you, making you whimper. "What would your beloved queen say if she knew you were whoring yourself out for information?"

"I'm not, I'm—"

"Oh, but you are." His grip on your wrists tightened. "Coming in here asking for priceless information, knowing my price isn't laughter for you. Spreading your legs so easily for me, letting me bury myself inside you time and again until you're dripping. But you like that, don't you? Being used as a cum dump. Because you wouldn't be on birth control if you didn't. Here's the thing, doll — once you let me touch you, you became mine, and I don't like when my playthings entertain other men."

"I'm on birth control because I cannot get pregnant," you snapped back, trying to wrest your wrists away. "Imagine what people would say if a noblewoman had a child by an undertaker!"

"Dove, they wouldn't say anything, because the second you were pregnant, I wouldn't be letting you out of my sight. I wouldn't want you to run away from me or our family~ But enough of that. I do intend to punish you."

"Look, I won't go to him anymore!" You didn't like his tone, or how you couldn't see what he was about to do. You may fuck the man on a semi-regular occasion, but you didn't actually know him, or what lines he wouldn't cross with you. And you were just now realizing that.

"I've already taken care of him, doll. You won't be going to anyone else ever, I promise you that."

Cool air fanned your hot skin as he ripped your underwear off. He pulled your dress and shift off as well without letting you free, then tied your hands together with a soft fabric. "I was waiting for the right time to use this little toy."

He turned you over, finally letting you see him. Chartreuse eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, clearly angry. He had lost his hat and usual outer robe, leaving his tight-fitting clothes. He held up a set of clamps with individual chains running down to merge into a single chain, which ended at a third clamp. His smirk made you shiver.

"I have the information you want, but since you decided you couldn't rely on me, you can find it yourself. Wearing nothing but these."

"You can't seriously expect—"

His hand gripped your chin firmly. "You humiliated me by not only going to another man, but daring to tell said man I couldn't do what you needed. Therefore, I am going to repay the favor. I am being kind; no one else is here and no one will walk through that door for the rest of today. Keep arguing and I'll make it worse for you."

You swallowed. "Y... Yes, sir."

His smirk returned. "Good girl." He knelt down, and a second later, you felt something cold close around your clit. He pulled the toy up so he could do the same with the other clamps. You shivered as he attached the clamps to your nipples. "To make it more fun..." He hit something and you gasped as the clamp on your clit began vibrating slowly. "Every ten minutes, I will turn this up. Cum before you find the information or I give you permission, and you've failed."

"May I have a starting clue, please?" You breathed, hoping he'd be nice. "Just an area to look in, maybe?"

"Well, you do look beautiful right now... It's a red folder."

That should be easy enough, right? But you had a sinking feeling as his eyes gleamed. "Good luck, doll."

Thirty minutes in and you were still nowhere close to finding the folder. Undertaker watched you with a predatory smile, tapping the remote against his chin. "Want another clue, doll?" He'd ask, but you didn't trust his smirk. You weren't sure what he would want for the clue now.

And yet, you were at your wit's end. You had searched every bookshelf, every nook and cranny, and you had already tried prying more clues out of him without giving anything in return. That buzzing between your legs was driving you crazy, making you wet and sensitive without any relief of an orgasm. You weren't about to give in, though, so you faced him. "Yes, please."

"Please, what?" He taunted.

"Yes, please, sir," you amended. "Please, give me a clue. Anything."

He was toying with you, and you hated it. You hated losing, especially in this twisted little game of his.

So you marched over to him, where he was lounging, and before he could react, you unbuttoned his pants. You carefully pulled his cock out, watching as it immediately stood to attention, tip flushed and red. You straddled his lap and groaned softly as you sank down onto him. "Please," you breathed, rolling your hips, "give me a clue."

His hands gripped your hips and he bit back a moan, thrusting upwards. "Is this your way of seducing one out of me? I thought you weren't a slut."

"Aren't I? For you? You make big speeches about me, but God knows you can't wait to rip my clothes off as soon as I set foot in your shop." You whimpered as he hit a certain spot, toes curling with the effort to not cave and orgasm right there.

"Well, that admission is beautiful enough," he grunted. A few more thrusts and you feel warmth spurt inside of you. You hated how much you loved it. He panted for a second, eyes locked onto yours. After a moment of regaining his breath, he tilted his head. "Almost beautiful enough to unlock the location."

You startled as the vibrator turned up a notch, and your vision almost went black. Fuck, you needed to cum so badly. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. Your legs were trembling from the effort to hold back, your body on fire from the pleasure of the toy. One of his hands gripped your chin again and gently turned it, so your gaze met his desk.

"Oh- Oh!"

At the same time, his other hand had pressed the clamp more firmly onto your clit, and you nearly came right there. With a grunt, biting your lip so hard it would surely bleed, you managed to fight that high off. "Y-Your desk...?"

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He crooned in your ear. "Go on. Try my desk, doll."

You shakily stood, not even caring how your arousal dripped down your thighs, or how his cum leaked out of you. You stumbled to the desk and began frantically pulling the drawers open. You almost cried in frustration when all but two opened, not bothering to look at the other drawers. He surely had it locked up.

Undertaker came up behind you, hands now on your breasts. "Now, which one do you think has the folder? Guess correctly and you win. Guess wrong, and you lose."

The right drawer seemed like it might... but so did the left drawer. You almost couldn't think, hands gripping the edge of the desk until your knuckles turned white. At this rate, you had moments before you lost, and he knew it. So which one would he put the folder into? He wouldn't make this so easy, would it?

Your eyes widened.

"It's..." Your voice broke. "It's not in there," you managed, turning. "Is it? You've had it this whole time, haven't you?"

He merely tilted his head, watching you. "Is that your final answer?"

I can't lose...

"Yes." You stated as firmly as you could, leaning against the desk for support. "I know you have it."

A grin spread over his lips. "Clever~" He reached into his shirt, producing the desired folder. "It's all yours, but first..."

In a flash, he had you on top of the desk, cock buried inside you. The vibrations increased on your clit as he thrust, and in a second, you tumbled into pure pleasure. Loud moans filled the shop as he fucked into you, pushing you through your orgasm. Your vision went white now, head spinning as you could feel nothing but him and yourself, the only two people in the world for this moment.

"UNDERTAKER!"

Darkness greeted your vision when you finally woke. Something soft was all around you, and you groaned. "Nhm...?"

"Careful, doll," a voice crooned by your ear. "That was quite the orgasm you had. Almost thought I lost you there." You felt something warm on your face. "Shh, don't fight. I'm cleaning you up."

His face came into focus after you squinted your eyes, trying to clear the blurriness. Gone was the cruel amusement. His expression was soft, almost... sweet. He continued cleaning you up, careful to avoid your sensitive parts.

"I... passed out?" You rasped.

"After doing such a good job of winning, yes. You're in my bed now. You'll need to rest for a day or so," he explained, pulling back. "Especially when you're going to be in such a fragile condition soon. I've already contacted your estate, and they know you'll be taking a leave of absence."

"Wait, what?" You rubbed at your eyes, noticing you were indeed in his bed. He'd never let you up here before. What the hell was going on? But you were too tired to fight, just watching him. "Fragile condition...?"

"Isn't it wonderful? I'm certain you'll be with child soon. After all, that little betrayal made me realize I should officially claim what's mine, and what I want. Don't worry, you'll be a mother soon." He chuckled.

"So, doll, how do you feel about a nighttime wedding?"

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #undertaker x reader #kuroshitsuji undertaker x reader angst #undertaker x reader smut #minors dni

[harrywavycurly]

Trouble Next Door Part 25: We’re Gonna Be Fine

Masterlist: here

TW: Mentions of cheating and divorce

Tag List: @sinczir @rach5ive @bruher @kellyxo1 @tiannamortis @makingmunson94 @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @gretavankleep37 @melaninjhs @amira0303 @robyn-118 @jaydaaasworld @squidscottjeans @rockstarmunsons @alanamarie @dandelionnfluff @aol19 @eddiesguitarskills @vampdaisy @br66klynbaby @raven-rust @daisyridleyyyy @i-love-ptv @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson @hideoutside @eddiemunson-fanfic @paprikaquinn @burns-in-the-sun @cherrycolas-things @exploding-bonbon @krazyk99 @idkbbyx3 @amberpanda99 @munsonmecrazy

A/N: The slow burning has come to an end y’all can all breathe a little easier now✨

“Did you really just ring my doorbell?” “Uh yeah? It’s what people usually do when they arrive at someone’s house…it lets the owner of the home know they’re here…” “thanks smartass…I meant why didn’t you just come in like you normally do?” “Oh uhm…I just…I didn’t know if it was locked or not and…I know you watch too many of those true crime shows…that it would freak you out if you heard someone messing with your doorknob…” “Oh…right…well come on in dinner is in the over but I opened a bottle of wine if you’d like a glass?” “Sure…oh uh Dustin says hello..he’s going to call you tomorrow he said something about wanting to do a movie night this weekend.” “That would be fun…you have plans for this weekend?” “Not at the moment…” “well you do now…why are you just standing there? You can sit down you know? The couch won’t bite you in the ass or anything.” “I can’t do this.” “Can’t do what? Sit down? Do you have an ass tattoo that’s healing or something?” “What? No I don’t have a tattoo on my ass…I can’t do this…you and I…just acting like…like this isn’t the very fucking room that…that everything…changed in.” “Yeah..this is the room where I figured out my ex husband was cheating on me with my bestfriend’s wife.” “That’s not what I’m talking about…” “oh right…it’s the room that I decided I was actually done with him in..and signed all the dotted lines possible to make him my ex husband…right on that coffee table actually.” “That’s also not what-” “it’s also the room that Dustin told us he was going to college in…it’s the room Max told me she and Lucas were breaking up for good in…where Robin let me cry on her shoulder after telling her about Steve…it’s where you and I used to fall asleep in the middle of our horror movie nights and I’d wake up to the sound of someone dying…and it’s the room where just recently I decided everything is going to be okay…we’re gonna be fine.” “We’re gonna be fine?” “Yes.” “I don’t…I don’t know if we are…going to be fine…” “are you calling me a liar?” “What? No…no I’m just saying I’m not so sure you’re…right.” “So you’re saying I’m wrong?” “I’m saying you have the potential of being wrong…yes…because how…how can you say we are going to be fine when this…this doesn’t feel the same? It feels…weird.” “I can say we’re gonna be fine because…I’m in love with you Eddie.” “I’m sorry…what the fuck did you…did you just…say to me?” “Don’t be an asshole Edward James.” “Say it one more time please you know my hair blocks my hearing sometimes.” “I’m in love with you…I’m sorry it took me-” “Sorry sorry I didn’t mean to do that.” “You didn’t mean to kiss me?” “I mean…I didn’t mean to interrupt you…what were you saying?” “I honestly don’t remember…” “I do have that effect on people…causing momentary memory fogs…it’s just the power of the Munson charm…but it was something about taking you so long?” “Munson charm? Who’s been lying to you and telling you that you’re charming?” “Now who’s being an asshole?” “Anyway…I’m sorry it took me so long to realize how I felt…I just…wasn’t ready but if I’m being honest…I think these feelings have always been there I just didn’t want to lose you so…I didn’t say anything..and then Steve showed up.” “I get it…I really do…I love you…I don’t care how long it took us to get here…I’m just so fucking glad we’re here.” “I love you too…still think I have the potential of being wrong about us being fine?” “Yes…but only because we are going to be more than fine…we’re gonna be great.” “Was that supposed to be a moment where your Munson charm was supposed to make me all woozy and fall more in love with you?” “Did it work?” “No…now come on and help me finish dinner.” “Glad to see you being in love with me hasn’t made you lose your bossiness.” “You wouldn’t love me if I wasn’t exactly the way that I am.” “That’s true…”

#trouble next door #eddie munson series #eddie munson au #eddie munson slow burn #eddie munson friends to lovers #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #Eddie Munson x you fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie Munson social media au #bestfriend!eddie munson #Eddie Munson #stranger things au #stranger things social media au #stranger things fanfiction #my little dungeon master baby #tw cheating #tw divorce #Steve Harrington #my little fluffy haired baby

[scintillyyy]

anyways, the thing is that joker as a villain was important post-jason's death, but pre-jason's resurrection he was used sparingly & he was honestly. in jail or arkham for most of that time? let's see:

immediately post jason's death, he's presumed dead for about 6 months

when he comes back, bruce has him put in arhkam

he breaks out once while bruce is out of town, tim & alfred put him back

he stays in arkham until bane breaks out all of the villains in order to break batman. he hires a motion picture studio to film him killing batman, but alas this is azbats & azbats sends to him blackgate. he does get away on the way here, and then goes into hiding and doesn't do anything for a bit bc he doesn't want to do anything bc he doesn't care about fake batman.

at some point he's caught and put back in arhkam. as far as i remember he doesn't really play a role in contangion or legacy?

he's firmly locked up during the entirety of cataclysm. he and the other villains torture a guard & he does manipulate another resident to commit a crime to torment batman but during this time he is firmly locked up.

he is *let out* with all the other arkham villains by jeremiah arkham immediately prior to no man's land and is trapped in gotham for the duration of the year, during which he's a pretty minor role because they save him for the last villain captured.

he is captured at the end of no man's land, and sent to the slab.

he is imprisoned in the slab until joker's last laugh in which case he instigates a break out and jokerizes everyone due to being told he's dying of a brain tumor

following joker's last laugh he's left in the slab in solitary confinement for a good deal of time.

at some point he breaks out for batman: hush, following which is war games and then utrh

so in that period, he got out of imprisonment a grand total of 4 times (maybe 5. there might be a random break out involving etrigan in there that i missed). 2 of those times he was *broken out* by someone not him/extenuating circumstances out of his control vs him breaking out. this was a real-time period of *15 years*. so while it seems like he's "in and out of arkham constantly" he's really. not. the system of keeping him in prison *works* for the most part (at least during that period). the times he does get out and attempt to cause harm, he is usually stopped and his victims saved. he doesn't really escape any more frequently than any other villain, or cause more harm than them when they escape at the time his body count wasn't more *excessive* than say, poison ivy or killer croc or two face or the order of st dumas (who infected gotham with a super virus and killed hundreds of thousands of people with ebola) or even ra's al ghul (who also attempted to use ebola to wipe out all of gotham, but was thwarted. the important part is he was going to do it.). so yea, the fact is. while they've jumped the shark with the joker in recent years he wasn't this huge constant menance. he was, for the large majority of it, actually doing his time. idk.

#anyways i know they've jumped the shark #but joker wasn't this huge menancing murderer of millions for a long time. #he was a criminal. who broke out at the same rate as the other criminals. #had a little more personal affect on the batfam but overall wasn't any worse than any of the other villains #as far as breaking our and causing general harm #so yea. if you say only the joker in that time period. there is really no difference between that #and killing anyone else. if the joker deserves to die for his crimes in post-crisis #so does poison ivy. so does two-face. so does killer croc.