#they are not stopping crime. in fact i think they are doing the opposite of that

[98chao]

spamton and jevil, freelance... something

#they are not stopping crime. in fact i think they are doing the opposite of that #posting this at 1:40 am its so over for me #ive been playing the devils playhouse all day . #deltarune #jevil #spamton g spamton #spamvil #my art #sprite art #ms paint #aseprite #2023

[mrs-weasley-reid]

you're too sweet for me

(young) Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Summary: Opposites attract, but Aaron reasons that it doesn't mean the magnets should connect. Just because he's in love with you doesn't mean he has to admit it.

Warning: Angst.

A/N: inspired by the song Too Sweet by Hozier

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

From the moment Aaron Hotchner met you, he knew you'd be the death of him.

Your bright aura. Your friendly personality. Your witty jokes. Your everything. You.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't drawn to you like everybody else. In fact, he was probably one of the willing victims of your sweetness.

The two of you joined the academy at the same time. Compared to Aaron, you were the one he would call a magnet. You had everyone attracted to you like a moth to a flame, and all you had to do was smile.

Finding out that you both got a position at the Behavioral Analysis Unit gave him such a euphoric daze. Aaron thought he was just happy that he got the job he wanted. But if he had to admit, seeing you was one of the reasons that it felt right.

"Good morning, Hotch!" You came in like the morning sun, filled with energy and blinding light. You slumped on your swivel chair with a chuckle, "Y'know, smiling a little bit won't kill you. How are we supposed to recruit more people to the team if you're frowning all the time?" You coaxed with a playful grin, easing onto your desk that sat across from him.

You were the first person to ever call him Hotch, getting the idea on accident over a cup of coffee. You were in the middle of bringing his mug in the name of being a kind teammate when you rattled on a simple, "Be careful, it's hotch!" followed by bursting out of laughter after the innocent mistake.

And since then, you couldn't call him anything else. Aaron wasn't thinking of correcting you anytime soon. After all, you two have been working together for the past five years, contributing to the continuous development of the BAU.

One other thing...

Aaron Hotchner has been in love with you for years, and kept it buried in the deepest corner of his heart.

Why?

He thought of many things.

First, your coffee order. He took his coffee straight black. The bitterness kept him awake enough to function. You, however, had some step-by-step concoction that kept you insanely energized for the day.

Second, your bedtime. He stays up as late as he could. The silence brought him peace as he listened to his pen scribble on his action report. You, however, slept as early as eight in the evening or as soon as you were allowed.

Aaron wouldn't hesitate to say more, but it'd take him an eternity.

He knew so much about you that someone might render him a creep had he mentioned it to anyone else but himself.

Because one thing Aaron Hotchner knew well was you.

And he knew you'd change in an instant if someone asked you to.

Aaron couldn't possibly have you do such a horrible thing.

The world needed your brightness. Aaron convinced himself that the world needed you more than he could ever do.

You were too good for him, too sweet.

So, why ruin the incredible person you are?

His love for you could be treated with constant denial, but whatever damage he could do to your bright spark would be a crime.

Loving you was a crime.

"I got it!" You erupted in the bullpen, jumping like a three-year-old child. Your vision caught Aaron, who had just walked in. You snatched him into a tight hug as you continued to bounce on your feet.

Aaron couldn't stop his lips from curving, melting into a puddle as he felt your arms wrap around him. His body stood frozen, but his heart was beating so loud he was afraid you could hear it.

Jason Gideon came out of his office to see the commotion, David Rossi right behind him. The two founding fathers of the unit curiously wondered what may have made them stop in the middle of a chess game.

"What's the jumping for?" David had his eyebrows knitted but was enjoying the way you celebrated with joy.

Another reason why Aaron couldn't possibly admit his feelings for you. You were contagious. Your glee always affected everyone, influencing an individual with the tiniest sound of your giggles.

You retracted away from Aaron, facing David. "I got the position in Interpol!" You exclaimed with pride, gasping for air after your prior actions.

Jason and David raised their eyebrows, accordingly giving you a congratulatory embrace. You felt their happiness for you in every bone they had almost crushed. Still, you paid no mind. The news made you feel elated, fueling you with a sense of fulfillment.

"It'd be different to not have you here, but I'm proud of you. Interpol would be glad to have you." Jason remarked with a satisfying nod. "You ready to move to Washington?"

"Even better," You bit your lower lip from excitement, "I'm going to France!" You clasped your mouth with both your hands, containing your squeals behind it.

Aaron heard his entire heart shatter into pieces as your triumph echoed on the walls of the bullpen. Everything became a blur and muffled.

Years of keeping his feelings a secret was no easy task, but at least he got to see your sweet smile each day. He couldn't imagine his life without listening to your random fits of laughter.

How was he going to survive a day without your daily reminder that he was human and not some poker-faced mannequin?

Who would complain about his bitter taste for coffee?

Where would he look when he needed a source of hope in the form of a warm smile?

What would he do without you in his life..?

But you just looked so proud, so excited, so... happy.

So, Aaron Hotchner put up a brave face and soft smile, "Congratulations."

#aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #fem!reader #criminalminds #criminal minds #cm #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner criminal minds

[gglitch1dd]

Okay so I know cheating izuku isn’t canon so how would canon izuku deal with the death of his son?

Oh that's a hard one. But... its a beautifully sad one.

Cheating Dilf Izuku X Wifey Reader

Warning: Death of a child, coping with grief, depression, hurt to comfort

"It's been a while, Mr Midoriya."

"Yah, it has."

"So how have you been?"

Izuku sat in the couch opposite his agency's therapist. He sat in front of him. a notebook in his lap as he looked back at the green haired man. Izuku had his arms folded over his chest as he sat there, his large frame supported by the grey couch he sat on. He shrugged. "Fine."

"I've heard you've been very busy with work. How has that been for you?"

Izuku shrugged. "Busy. Crime never stops."

His therapist hummed. "How has life been since the trial?"

The trial... It was suffocating endeavour. He hated every second of it. Having to look as Jigsaw, who was alive and well, taken care on taxpayer money and locked behind bars alive, while his son was nothing but a pile of ashes now.

Izuku swallowed down hard but kept his face emotionless. "Fine."

"He got the death penalty. What do you think about it?"

"It's well deserved." Izuku answered without hesitation, his hands gripping his muscles tighter.

The therapist noted something done for a moment before looking back up at him with a gentle demeanour. "Your wife made an interesting statement during the trial. She said, 'Despite what you did to my son, I know he forgives you and he would want me to forgive you. Although I doubt I can ever find it in my heart to do so, I'll try...' What did you think about her statement?"

Izuku was silent as he remembered that day of the trial. You held yourself as gracefully as ever. Even when the forensic pathologist had said the report on how Shoyo and Sero Kimiko's (Hanta and Mina's youngest daughter) bodies were so badly damaged that he couldn't even identify certain body parts of what remained of them, about how there was quite literally nothing to hold or mourn over because they had to be cremated almost immediately. Even when Jigsaw had time to speak and vividly said how your son had cried out your name, begging for you in his last moments of life.

You were composed, other than a few stray tears and an emotionless voice.

"My wife is a better person than me." Izuku stated, remembering his own statement about how the only thing protecting Jigsaw's life was the fact that Izuku had his quirk cancelled for every trial date.

"Speaking of which, how is your Mrs Midoriya?"

For the first time since walking into the room, Izuku seemed to ease just slightly. His eyes fell down. How were you? In total honest, Izuku wasn't sure. When last had he even looked at you? Izuku didn't even take time off to mourn after the trial. He went straight into work.

When last had he seen you? This morning? What did you make for breakfast? What were you wearing?

"I..." He started, his voice unsure. "I think she's fine."

"You think?" His therapist asked softly. "You aren't sure, Mr Midoriya?"

Izuku looked down away from the man that sat across from him. He didn’t answer that question because he wasn’t sure how you were. At some point he wasn’t even sure you left the bed at all after the funeral, but then at some point he knew you were up and around.

“When last did you speak to your wife?”

“This morn-”

“Honestly speak to your wife?” That question had him frozen. “When last did you ask her how her day was, or how has she been coping?”

Izuku knew that his therapist knew that answer. You had been coming to see a therapist as well, a mandatory thing that the commission expected from the both of you but also one you bot probably needed direly. Izuku looked away as his eyebrows furrowed. “Not for a while.” He answered simply.

“Do you not care about her anymore?”

Green eyes flicked up to the psychologist that sat across from him. His eyes were dark and deadly, one that held brewing anger beneath the surface. “You know that’s not true.” Izuku answered back lowly.

“Do I?” His therapist asked with a shrug. The man looked down at the notebook he had, flipping through his pages. “In not one of our sessions have you willingly spoken about your wife or children and when asked, all you state is a simple ‘fine’. It leaves anyone thinking that you find work more important than your family right now.”

“I’m a busy man, I’m the number one hero, I don’t have time to-”

“To have a five-minute conversation with your wife and kids?”

Izuku froze for a second. He let out a scoff as he stood up. “I don’t have to listen to this.” He stated as he moved to exit out of the room.

“Mr Midoriya, when you first started seeing me, you told me that I should be harsh and frank with you.” That made the large hero paused. “You told me that if you were going to be sitting here for an hour at a time, I should make it worth your time. So here I am.” His therapist responded calmly as he crossed his legs leaning back in his chair. “You leave out of that door right now, I will have no choice but to inform the commission that you are unfit and unwell to continue your job as a hero and have you suspended of all hero work until I deem you fit enough to do so.” Izuku turned to look back at the man who sat rather unbothered. He smiled as he motioned for Izuku to sit back where he was before.

Izuku let out a sigh, knowing that he should stay. He walked to sit back down where he was, falling back with a sigh as he said nothing more to that.

His therapist smiled. “Thank you, Mr Midoriya. Often than not, the first step to getting better is knowing that you need help and then accepting it.” He reminded the green haired hero. “Now… how are the boys?”

Izuku didn’t answer immediately. When last did he talk to the boys? When last did he see the boys?  The last vivid time he remembered his sons’ faces was at the funeral, everything after that felt like a blur. Were they already back at school? “They’re… fine.”

His therapist let out a hum as he noted down something in his notebook. “And how are you?”

“Me? I’m fine.”

His therapist looked at him through his lenses before letting out a sigh. He leaned forward. “Mr Midoriya, you entered the scene where your son had been brutally murdered.” He started off, getting to the cusp of it. “You have, unjusticely, been at the cusp of some media frenzy of them saying that you weren’t fast enough or good enough or still in your prime to have saved your son. You have been working like a dog, day and night and by the reports of your office hours, I doubt you even get more than three hours of sleep. You are out there breaking yourself in half, trying to atone for something that isn’t your fault and you are leaving your family behind. Your wife is currently at home with your children, trying to keep it all together while you are out there when you should be spending time with your family. Mr Midoriya, I’ll ask you one more time… how are you?”

The front door opened as Izuku entered his house. The first thing that caught his eye was the candle next to the photo of the smiling five year old boy who had hair too wild and free and a smile so bright and lovely. Inko had said that Shoyo was a direct copy and paste (minus a few of your genetics) of Izuku. Staring at him now was still painful and yet Izuku gave him a small smile.

He slipped off his shoes and entered the house. Just as he did so, he noticed that there wasn’t the sound of playing in the living room or the sound of boys giggling outside. It was mostly silent. It had been silent for a while now and Izuku wasn’t surprised.

Izuku hated the silence.

Walking out of the kitchen with a glass of orange juice was Toshinori, headphones blasting in his ears as he kept one hand in his grey sweats as he manoeuvred out of the kitchen. At the sight of his father, his eyes widened as he jumped, dropping his glass of juice. Before Izuku could react, suddenly dark green tendrils wrapped around the glass.

Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed, knowing he didn’t activate One for All yet. Being carried just a few inches off the ground was Toshinori’s cup of juice with blackwhip coming from his knuckles. Toshinori’s eyes moved to his father. He carefully bent down to pick up his cup before slipping off his headphones, pausing the music. “Afternoon, dad.” He greeted. “You’re back early.” He let out unsure, knowing that normally when- if, his father came home, it would be late at night when he was far too asleep to notice.

Izuku nodded. “I am.” His eyes moved down to blackwhip that slowly retracted itself into Toshinori’s knuckles. He tilted his head confused, pointing towards Toshinori’s left hand. “Since when could you use blackwhip?”

Toshinori looked down at his hand before looking back up at his father. “Since a week ago. Nearly dropped a wine bottle but luckily I caught it just in time.”

“Wine?”

“I cooked dinner.”

“Since when did you cook dinner?”

“Since mom wasn’t able to cook dinner.”

“Since when was mom unable to cook dinner?”

“Depends on the day. Some days are harder for her than others.” He shrugged. Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed at that, a pang of guilt seeping into his chest. Toshinori looked to the side for a moment before forcing a smile to his face as he headed towards the staircase. “I’ve got a paper to finish and I need to make sure Asahi is doing his homework-”

“Toshinori.” Izuku put a hand on his eldest son’s shoulder. Toshinori paused as he turned to look at his dad. Izuku was slow as he walked closer to Toshinori. He took Toshinori’s cup of juice, putting it on the side table. The teenager’s looked confused before his eyes widened as he was pulled into a hug against his will. He froze in his father’s embrace, eyes wide and his body stiff. “I’m sorry.” Izuku whispered. Slowly he felt his son ease into his hold, slumping against him. “You did good, but I’ve gotta tap you out now. You should rest.”

Toshinori didn’t say a word but he nodded his head, a shaky sigh leaving his throat as he buried his head in the crook of his father’s neck. His hands gripped onto Izuku’s back painfully hard but Izuku didn’t push him away.

After that Izuku went up to his and your room where Toshinori said you would be. Izuku entered the room, to find you sitting there with Koda. Koda had his head in your lap, fast asleep. You looked away from the show about a blue dog on the TV, and to your husband. Your eyes widened in surprise. You checked the time on your phone before looking back at him surprised. There were bags under your eyes and you looked drained. You all looked drained, besides Koda who seemed to be enjoying his nap with his little knitted blanket you made for him when he was a baby, over him.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you straightened up. “Izuku… you’re here.” You whispered to him.

“I am.” He affirmed. He looked down at his youngest son. The both of you had consciously pulled him out of kindergarten despite him only being there for a few short months. After Shoyo, the both of you had wordlessly expressed your fear of losing another little sprout. Izuku walked over to you, he picked up Koda effortlessly.

Your eyes widened as you weakly reached up to stop him. “It’s okay, I-”

Izuku shook his head, silently taking your youngest son to his own room. Izuku barely remembered the last time he held Koda like this. The little boy, although asleep like a log, moved to wrap his arms around Izuku’s neck comfortingly putting his head of green hair to rest on him. Izuku swallowed down a sob and fought a frown as he carefully laid Koda to bed, drawing the blinds and leaving him for an afternoon nap.

You were still seated where Izuku had left you when he came back. He closed the door behind him but stood there, keeping space between you and him. Neither of you said anything. This was the most time Izuku had spent in your presence in the past three months that wasn’t him asleep or just passing by.

“How was your day?” You let out quietly, scared of the usual answer he would give you. He would dismiss you without second thought. He didn’t answer, affirming that your question was once again given in vain.

“I…” You looked up at him. His eyes were down casted. “I saw the shrink.”

Your eyebrows twitched up in surprise that he was telling you something about his day that wasn’t just a simple ‘fine’. “And… how did it go?” You asked softly.

He didn’t answer immediately again. You saw your husband’s head drop for a moment. His hands balled into fists and you saw he was trembling. You saw tears fall down his cheeks as he seemed to be biting back a sob. You don’t know with what strength nor from where but you stood up and walked over to him. Right before you could even touch him, your husband crumbled on the floor.

“I’m sorry.” You heard weakly from him.

You went down on your knees joining him on the ground. “Izuku…”

“I failed you.” His voice cracked as he held his hands to his face, trembling in front of you. “I failed the boys, I failed Shoyo. If only I was there just two minutes earlier-”

“It’s not your fault.” You reminded him as you moved your hands onto him, touching him for the first time in months. “You couldn’t have known or have been any faster than you were. You didn’t fail me, or the boys or him.”

Izuku shook his head as he looked up at you with red eyes. “Y/N. I can’t… I…” He fought back a sob as he stopped for a second. “I’m tired. I’m so tired. And- and I’m so sorry I left you all alone.” You stilled at that. You looked away from him fighting your own tears as you tried your best to be the comforting good wife he needed you to be when you felt like anything but. “I’ve been a horrible husband. I haven’t been here for you.”

You scowled as you tried to fight the tears. “You haven’t.” You affirmed softly.

“I know you needed me.”

“I did.” You looked at him, with a mix of anger and disappointment but mostly sadness. You gasped as you let the tears fall. “And you weren’t here.”

He shook his head with a sad smile. “I wasn’t.” You didn’t look at him as you looked down at your lap. “But…” You felt one of his hands move you to look up at him. “I’m here now.”

There was a knock at the door. “Mom I-” Entering the room was Toshinori who paused. Lying there in bed, with his arms around you was Izuku. The both of you were dead asleep, bags under your eyes and faces puffy but you were both asleep. Together.

Toshinori eased. He gave a small smile as he decided he’ll let the both of you sleep.

-Glitch1d

#izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #mha x y/n #bnha #deku x reader #dilf midoriya #dilf deku #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf izuku x reader #izuku angst #midoriya izuku angst #midoriya x reader #midoriya x you #mha #kirishima x reader #izuku x reader angst

[goldsbitch]

That one trip up the stairs

part 5 to That one Christmas flight

summary: The rest of the hotel visitors probably had a bad sleep that night.

warning: unprotected sex, minors DNI (absolutely no plot involved), and all the classic ones - cheesy af, swear words and alcohoI I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

PS: Thanks for the support and reactions!! Love you all!

Dancing was great. But simply not enough for two impatient hearts. The kind of tipsy for which alcohol was not enough.

"I got us two rooms. Just in case," he said in the very few moments when his tongue was not deeply in her mouth. "Don't want to make you uncomfortable." Lando was big on consent. This only made Y/N want to fuck him more.

Talking and making out at the same time was becoming a shared past time for the pair. "Yeah? Well that makes two of us. I don't want pressure you," she said in between kisses. "That's the last thing I'd want to do. You don't have to fuck me. I understand the thought of you being inside me might be hard to take in," she said in a low suggestive tone with no other intension that seducing Lando. It was not like he needed to be at this point. He had her seated on some random alcove window on the way to their hotel room, hands full on touching her boobs, legs, kissing her neck, everything all at once.

"Get it? It's a pun," she broke their kiss again for a small moment.

"Yes, I get it. And you'll get it too if you don't stop now." Tongues and lips danced together as if their life depended on it.

"Hm, that might be hard, in fact getting harder and harder. Makes one wonder, huh" she teased and ran few stairs away from Lando.

There was no elevator, but Lando and Y/N sure had the making out while walking on stairs thing covered like professionals. Leaning on walls, nearly breaking a vase with a massive flower arrangement. They hardly noticed a distressed gentlemen walking in the opposite way who then filed a complaint to the hotel about their inappropriate behavior, describing it in such a detail one would expect the premium hotel to somewhat censor - which was not the case this time. When Lando received this email two days later, he had it printed, framed and hung on his bedroom wall. Next to his trophies.

Y/N wanted Lando and for him to want her too. And coming to think of it, she had been lusting for him for weeks now. The public shirtless pictures did not help. And he was right here at her finger tips. Her clouded mind saw no issue in removing his shirt in the middle of the hallway. Quickly working the buttons and the immediately throwing it out of the nearest window.

"Oops," she smiled and bit her lip. Lando stared at her in awe, her playfulness being something new to see in a woman. "Just sort of felt like a crime to have you dressed, you know?" she continued. If he could, he would take her right there. "Let's hope your hotel rooms are close, otherwise you'll be in trouble for public nudity soon," she sang loudly, indeed without a care in the world. Lando laughed, took her by the hand and kissed like as if he was ready to eat her up.

"That door, honey," he pointed to the end of the hallway.

"You're just lucky, aren't you."

//

And again, Y/N's hands went immediately for the chest. What she did not expect when studying Lando's photos was how smooth his skin felt. She remembered his fragrance working like magic on his skin, but this was a whole another level. She wanted to sink in him. They did not bother with putting the card in the holder, switching on the lights or anything else. It would be hard to find some other pair that took of their shoes so fast. Desire was putting them both into hyper speed.

This time Y/N had Lando pressed against the door, holding him locked by his arms. Lando could have easily escape that if he wanted to, which was the last thing he'd do. Y/N was becoming more driven and forward.

She bit his lower lip. He gasped. "Do you like this?" He nodded and smiled. "Good boy," she replied and continued pulling his hair a little bit more, just to the edge of pain. The she abruptly stopped. Lando looked at her and she instructed him to stay as he was. Her soft kisses started at Lando's ear, moving slowly on his jaw, then neck - where he seemed to be extra sensitive - and then down to his chest, all the way to his toned stomach. She looked up at him and took the hem of his trousers into her mouth. And finally, one of her hands touched his growing erection.

"Interesting," she commented with a hint of being impressed. Lando was absolutely loving that. But as much as he'd like to be in her mouth, he hoped there would be another time for that. He put a finger below her jaw and instructed her to move up.

"Honey, be patient. There steps that can't be skipped," he said as he began to toy with her shoulder straps until one of them fell down her shoulder. "Oops," he remarked mocking her previous actions. "Let me help you." And he moved the second strap as well. Y/N was getting flustered. She did not break eye contact for a second when she was removing her dress, leaving her standing there centimetres away from him only in her underwear. The rest of their clothes was on the floor in the matter of seconds. Both of them being eaten up by their curiosity. It was impossible to stay there standing. Lando pushed Y/N towards the bed in the same was they'd manager to walk up three flights of stairs. Only once she was finally lying below his, with his body hovering over hers was he able to relax and take the moment in. A week ago he would not have believed this was going to happen. His deep philosophical thoughts were gone the moment her hand reached for his cock. A shock wave of horny energy sprung through him and took Y/N nipple in his mouth and started playing with one, hard making sure the other one did feel left out. She was beautiful - this was not a surprise to Lando, but something about the shape of her body, the way she moved, the way how her body reacted to his actions was making her angel-like. Y/N wanted to go slow - if slow meant him waiting another minute maximum before he got into her. She touched him and started stroking him. "I have a proposition," she whispered to his ear.

"Anything," and he was sure he'd do anything she desired at the moment.

"Let's skip the fingers and tongues, I need to feel you like now. I want you inside. And the rest can be a nice breakfast tomorrow."

"I can't have that. Let me lick you once, just to taste, hm?"

"You can do whatever. Just make me happy and make me come, finally."

She was wet, ready and impatient. Lando licked her few times, making her regret her request instantly. It was something completely new. He wasn't just spalling his tongue around like the boys before him had. It was as if he had a secret map and was not afraid to be a little rough with his tongue. "Please, don't stop," she almost begged.

"As you said, breakfast," he joked once he was back face to face with her, being proud of himself when he saw her flustered look. Their bodies acted on their own from that moment. He slowly entered her, making sure to stay aware of her expressions. She had her eyes closed and was gripping his shoulders tightly. First moans arrived. Lando recalled Y/N teasing him on the way to the hotel that she likes to express herself verbally. He hoped this was what she talked about, because the sound she made was one of the hottest things he heard. Lando felt as if he belonged inside of her. Started thrusting slowly - and that was the moment Y/N lost it and let go. The rest was a mixture of blurry pleasure waves coming from all parts of the body, alcohol intensifying the experience for both of them. Lando was trapped in the moment and the rhytmn, watched her boobs bounce as he pushed to her. Y/N felt him present at every inch of her skin, his cock hitting spots she had no idea existed. Small waves of pleasure turned bigger with every move, until she collapsed in his arms and screamed out loud. He could watch that on repeat for centuries. She tightened around him for a good few seconds and then released. Lando sped up and pulled out at the dead last moment, hitting her stomach and a part of her arms. He cleaner her up and they both started catching up on their lost breaths. "Forgot to ask you, do you have a condom?" he asked cheekily. She laughed. "You'll send me your test results later, honey," she laughed, fully exhausted and high from all the hormones. Lando's body felt relaxed, as if someone finally allowed him to go off all the tension. Y/N was still receiving small pleasure waves in her fingertips. Was sex supposed to always be this good, she asked herself, putting her previous hook ups in a completely new light. He reached to her face and wiped a tear of sweat from her cheek. During that her studies her, the way her collarbone stood out and how her chest still went up and down faster than usually. Y/N looked him deep into his eyes. It was so easy, no awkward tension. She admired his pretty face and then kissed him lightly.

He was the one to suggest a shower. Tired Y/N grabbed all that was left in her and went ahead. She got up naked and hoped he was watching her. Which he did shamelessly, trying to burn the image of her ass into his brain for later use.

Lando's hair was all curly and cute. Y/N commented on that to which he responded by splashing some water in her face. It was hard to focus on anything else but the way how Lando looked and glowed with ease. "I'll help you with the soap," he offered dearly.

"Always a gentleman," Y/N remarked as he spread it all over her body, being extra focused on very specific parts.

"I don't think my boobs have ever been this clean, Lando," she said and reached for his again erected penis.

"Hygiene, people tend to underestimate it dearly," he managed to get out before dozing off from the way she stroked him, making him come for the second time today.

They dried each other with hotel towels, when Y/N started to come to her sense and usual brain usage levels. "Do you happen to know what happened to my luggage? Is it in the car?"

"Had it all brought here, I guess it's in the second room across the hall."

"Wow, who would assume for you to be such a planner. Shall we get to the second room? And maybe test which bed better?"

Lando smiled. "I can see you falling asleep while standing, honey."

"It feels nice spending time with you, you know?"

He kissed her once again, cupping her cheek and stroking her hair. They went to the other room, brushed their teeth and laid down. Y/N was gone asleep immediately. He watched for few more moments before also dozing off. If he wanted to he, he would - and he really wanted to.

part 6

__________________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1  @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak

#lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris angst #meet cute #fluff #slowburn #slow burn fic #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #ln4 x reader #i'm sorry #there will be more #smut #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x y/n

[brayneworms]

c'mon, baby, you're my best fix | sampo koski

kinktober day three: dry humping

word count: 2.4k

content: dry humping, gender-neutral reader, silvermane guard!reader, hatesex elements, sex as stress relief, semi-public (alleyway), reader has been drinking but isn't implied to be intoxicated, dom!reader + sub!sampo (but he's implied to be a switch), elements of sadism + masochism, degradation, coming untouched.

♪ love in a trashcan - the ravenettes.

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

The biggest fucking lie anyone had told, ever, had come out of Sampo Koski's mouth that afternoon:

C'mooon. I can be good.

You know for a fact that this is a lie, because through no will of your own you have become quite well-acquainted with Sampo Koski, and if there's one thing you're sure of is that he has a physical aversion to doing what he's told.

He had been told, for example, the following many times: Leave me alone, Koski. You're a fucking creep, Koski. Stop conveniently walking by my workplace the very minute I finish my shift, Koski. No, you can't buy me a drink, Koski.

And yet he shows up anyway, like a bad penny, like a dog someone hadn't reprimanded harshly enough and had come sniffing around looking for scraps. Maybe you're too nice, but you sort of doubt it. You think it's more likely that Sampo likes when you talk down to him, which is a whole other can of worms that you're not remotely interested in opening.

"I get the feeling you're mad at me," comes that familiar simpering voice, sliding home into the booth opposite you. Sampo slumps forwards against the table with his face squished against his open palm, grinning that ever-present crescent-moon smile. Cut-jade eyes glimmer out at you through the half-light of the tavern. They always seem to be glittering, despite the absence of any real light. "It's this nagging feeling!" he continues gleefully, even when you glare at him. "This annoying but rather persistent voice in the back of my head keeps telling me that when you tell me to leave you alone, you actually mean it!" He gives a hearty laugh, toying with his flask of ale, and peers up at you through his stupidly thick lashes. "Still, I know it can't be true, considering what happened the other night."

Stupid alcohol. Stupid Sampo. Stupid, stupid you.

One day of weakness. Being a Silvermane Guard was never exactly easy work, but most days tended to be less harrowing than the one you'd had. Every lead you'd chased had slipped through your fingers, and your shift had ended abruptly when the brother of a victim you were seeking justice for had elbowed you to the ground in frustration and spat on you. Your superior wrestled him off you and told you to clock off early.

You supposed she was being kind, but it just made you feel more useless than ever. Boiling with anger and with nowhere to put it, you stormed to the nearest tavern with the intention of drowning your sorrows. Two cups of mead in, you'd gone outside to clear your head, and there he had been, lurking around like an alley cat, sharp eyes lingering on everyone who walked past. No doubt looking for his next easy target. You clear your throat pointedly, and he spins around. Surprise quickly melts into familiar delight.

"Captain, my Captain!" he trills, slinking over as he was wont to slink everywhere.

"Not a captain," you remind him for the fortieth time. "Why are you loitering around here, Koski?"

An affronted hand to his chest, as though clutching imaginary pearls. "Oh! Did they outlaw that, too? Going to cuff me and sling me in jail, hm?"

"Don't fuckin' tempt me," you grumble, tipping your head back against the wall of the tavern. "Can you hurry up and commit a crime in front of me, or something?"

Sampo grins. "Rough day?"

"You're not helping," you snip back, slightly unfairly. He isn't really doing anything more than hanging around being irritating. He slinks closer, slinks like he always does, like it's the only way he knows how to move. Oozing around like a toxic slime, draping himself against the wall just in front of you, arm braced against the brick behind your head.

"I could, though."

His forwardness is hardly a surprise. There isn't any danger of missing his meaning in the sleepy droop of his eyes, the lazy smile curling at his lips. Sampo is an incurable flirt to each and everyone—the thing is that most of the time it's part of the con. You know a few Silvermane Guards who have fallen into his charm and his bed that cut him a lot of slack where they really, really shouldn't.

Sampo Koski has friends everywhere, and that's what makes him so dangerous.

You know this. You have done for a while, especially because he'd been trying to worm his way into your bed for about as long as you'd known him. You resent the thought of him having any sort of power over you, though. There's no denying that he's attractive, and you've often wondered if he would be able to put his money where his mouth is, for lack of a better phrase. But handing over that amount of control to someone like Koski is just incurably stupid.

Because then you're trapped. Every time he'd catch your eye afterwards, they'd glimmer, and you'd know he was remembering your moment of weakness, inviting you to remember it too. Every time his eyes would rake down your body you'd know he'd be recalling when he'd seen it devoid of clothing, sweating, trembling. Every time he'd look at you, he'd know he'd already won.

Really, there's a very simple solution. Don't let him win.

"I bet," you breathe, meeting his eyes for once. You can see them widen slightly, his lips part in surprise before he makes a recovery from this most minuscule slip of his mask.

"Ohoho?" He lets out an irritating little laugh. "Gosh. Must have been a really rough day."

"I'd prefer it to get rougher."

Sampo's mouth splits into a wide grin, one almost fanatical in nature. "I should've pegged you as the type!" he gushes. "Why would anyone be nonsensical enough to join the Silvermane Guards unless they secretly enjoyed a little pain? Between you and me, Captain, I don't mind it either."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" you sigh. "Only a real masochist would so frequently try to get under my skin."

His lashes flutter. "I'm trying to get under much more than that, Captain."

You grab him by the front of his shirt and drag him down the alley beside the tavern. In the dusk light, the two of you slip into the shadows almost immediately, and you follow the narrow path down to the back of the tavern, where the noise of the street outside is quietened to a whisper. Sampo giggles behind you.

"What an exhibitionist you are," he says slyly. "I should've expected it from you, I guess. I guess—"

You plant two hands on his chest, shoving him back into the brick wall, and kiss him. His words flutter to a halt and he stifles a yelp of surprise against your mouth before his eyes squinch shut. His hands aren't shy, flying up to grip your waist, and you press yourself flush against him. He makes a whimpery noise into your mouth as your knee slots itself between his legs, pushing up. He runs hot, you can feel it even through his clothes, and it's a welcome immersion from the perpetual algidity of Belobog.

He grunts as he pulls away, and you take in the slightly glazed look in his eyes and the high colour in his cheeks with a tinge of gratification. "We don't have an awful lot of time," he says pseudo-apologetically. His hands fly to his belt, fingers working nimbly at the buckle. "I'm due somewhere in twenty—"

His voice stammers to a halt when your hand clamps down over his, stilling his fingers. Sampo blinks up at you, puzzled; the penny hasn't yet dropped, you suppose, even as you patiently pry his fingers away from his belt.

"What are you doing?" you ask bluntly. Sampo's lips part and he looks at you as though you're quite delusional.

"Ah... ahem?" He laughs nervously. "Is that a trick question?"

"No," you answer easily. "What are you doing?" Off his bewildered look—which you take the time to enjoy, considering how little you get to see anything but smug ostentation on his face—you shrug. "Oh, I see. That's what you thought this was? I take you into some... secluded little alley, and I get you off?"

Sampo's mouth drops open. "I—I would've—"

"Let's not delude ourselves," you interrupt, and push your knee up between his thighs again. He makes a high, shaky noise in the back of his throat, tipping his head back against the brick wall. "D'you really think you've earned that?"

"Hm?" Sampo swallows hard, the juts in his throat flexing. "I—"

"All you do is hang around bothering me," you hiss. "And you think... what, one well-timed innuendo is all it took for me to change my mind? If you want to get off, then get off." Your knee slides against him, the stiffening in his trousers, and he makes a rather pathetic noise.

"You're not serious," he gasps, cheeks flushed scarlet. His sleepy eyes are wider than you've ever seen them and trained frantically on you. "Come on, Captain, you can't mean that. W-what would you get out of it, even?" He tries for a smirk. "I promise, if you let the reliable Sampo get his hands on you, you won't regret—mmfph?"

Your fingers slip under the stupid windows flaring over his hips, gliding over the skin there. He runs so warm, and it's ridiculous considering Belobog's perpetual winter, as you curl your fingernails into the skin of the small of his back 'till it dimples and drag his hips painstakingly over the flat of your thigh.

This time, sweet as music, he doesn't talk. His mouth drops open and he lets out a shivering moan, gloved hands scrabbling on the brick wall behind him. "You really are serious," he says in disbelief even as his hips roll absently against your leg. A strained laugh escapes him as—finally—a painfully scarlet flush starts bleeding into his cheekbones. "I always knew you Silvermanes were crazy."

"Mm. Not all of them," you say quietly. "But I am. I'm pretty crazy."

Sampo shudders, one that worms its way slowly through his whole body, and then he drops his head against your shoulder. He smells nice, like smoke and mint, his hair soft as it brushes your skin. His hips move languidly against you, stuttering occasionally, unsure—until you flex the muscle of your thigh against him. A whimper breaks free, high and whiny like shattered glass.

"You're so cruel," he groans even as his body drags against your leg. You underestimated how overwhelming it would be; his breath in the hollow of your neck makes the skin there hot and clammy, and when he moans it goes right in your ear. You're certain he's exaggerating to get your resolve to weaken. Nobody actually sounds like that.

And you can feel him, hard and hot as a brand, pushing up against your leg. You shudder almost imperceptibly, because yes, yeah, you're wondering how he would feel inside you, but you can't—not tonight, you promise yourself as your teeth grit. Tonight isn't about that.

It's about winning.

"Please," Sampo grits out, turning his head so you can see slices of his moonstone eyes through the sweaty locks of hair. "I—nngh, oh—I want inside of you."

"Take it or leave it, Koski," you say, a bit too breathlessly for your liking. He shivers with a sulky noise, and the whole time, even as he talks his hips are rolling against your leg. He picks up speed as sweat starts rolling down his skin, as his hands scrabble over the brick and then fly out to grab your waist and haul you closer. His strength is ridiculous—but so is yours. You let yourself be pulled, feeling his mouth and teeth against your ear, the breathy noises spilled across your jaw.

"Oh—please, I'm close." His eyes blink up at you, wet and deceptively innocent. The look on his face is almost heartwrending. "I need you, anything—your hand, mouth, anything, I don't care, please—"

"You're going to cum in your pants against my leg like the dog you are," you spit, your hand fisting in the hair at the nape of his neck. He yelps, the flush on his cheeks darkening, eyes fluttering shut. "And you're gonna be grateful you even got that much."

Sampo moans, broken and high; his hips stutter against your leg as his hands curl into your waist so hard you're sure they'll leave bruises. But under the pleasure is a certain frustration, a sobbing sound as he cums and it sets your blood alight. You shiver with the delight of it.

The seconds that follow feel like victory.

Sampo peels away from you, stumbling back against the brick wall behind him. He's scarlet all the way down to his chest, his mouth agape and eyes wide and glittering with unshed tears as he uncomfortably adjusts his pants. They're dark and it's night, so he can probably get away with them until he gets the chance to go home and change, but the thought of him walking around in soiled underwear thrills you.

You probably are actually crazy. Sampo's annoying, but he's quite perceptive.

He clears his throat, shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Well. Erm. That was..." He swallows. "The great Sampo really got himself in a rather sticky situation this time, didn't I?"

"Poor choice of words," you supply, and he winces, flushing harder.

He clears his throat. "Like I said, I, erm, have somewhere to be. Nice catching up, though." He puts two fingers to his temple and flicks them into the air in a mock salute. You watch as he spins lazily on his heel, rolling his shoulders as he starts his walk back down the alleyway.

"By the way," he added, pausing a few feet away. "I certainly hope that wasn't your way of trying to dissuade me." Your eyebrows raise, and he grins; his canines are sharp, and you can see them flash when his lips peel back. "Well, be serious: once you feed a starving dog, it doesn't leave you alone, does it? It comes back for more. Maybe it even follows you home."

He leaves you with that, one last lingering look and an implication that has you burning more than anything that transpired in the last ten minutes.

You get the altogether not unpleasant feeling that this will be far from the last you see of Sampo Koski.

#🫀.scribes #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #sampo koski x reader #sampo koski smut #sampo x reader #sampo smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai smut #honkai x reader #kinktober 2023 #hsr smut

[firehousefreak911]

Hi

Could you do a imaging with Buck from 911. I love the opposite attracts idea. Like a secret girlfriend, because she isn’t a fan of being around people. She’s different from all the other girls that buck dated

Thank you

Hope you have a good day:)

A Good Different

You sat on the couch in your baggy sweat pants and oversized shirt. You watched as your boyfriend ran around the house getting ready.

He wasn’t the type of guy you were used to but he made you feel so special and loved. And you knew for a fact you weren’t the type of girl he had been with before. But none of that mattered, you loved each other and nothing could change that.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Buck asked sitting down in front of you on the couch facing you.

“No Buck, you know it’s not my thing, you go have fun” I said, urging him to go.

“Are you sure? I don’t have to go” he replied.

“Evan, baby, look at me, I want you to go have fun, I know how much you love going to hang out with the 118. Go have fun, beside I have a new crime documentary I want to watch” you said, switching the channel to your show.

“Fine, I’ll miss you” he leaned over to kiss you.

“I love you” he said

“I love you too” you sighed, “give me 10 minutes and I’ll be dressed”

You aren’t the type to hang with a bunch of people but if it made Buck happy then you would push your fears away.

10 minutes later you came out in ripped jeans and a faded black concert tee. You threw on your combat boots and grabbed your bag.

“Damn your beautiful” Buck whispered grabbing you in a kiss, “maybe we should stay home”

He chuckled as he kissed you passionately. You smiled under his kisses. When the two of you finally separated you headed for the door.

You applied your makeup in the car adding your dark lipstick to top it off. As Buck pulled into the drive way you started to get nervous. Looking over at your Buck noticed your demeanor.

“Hey you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, we can go home” he said grabbing your hand.

You gave his a squeeze and shook your head no.

“No, let’s stay, I want to do this for you. These people mean the world to you. And because of that they mean the world to me, it’s time I finally met them” you reply.

Buck gets out and runs to open your door. He leads you to the front door. Buck opens it and goes in.

“Hey everybody we’re here!” He yells

“Finally!”

“About damn time!”

You hear every yell from the main area. As you follow Buck down the stairs of the house, you think he said it belonged to his captain and his wife. Everyone stops and looks at you.

“Woah! Buck who is this?” A dark haired man smiles.

“Chimney!” A woman smacks his arm. You recognize her as Buck’s sister.

“Sorry about him, I’m Maddie, Buck’s sister” Maddie said, coming over to you.

Buck could feel you get nervous. He squeezed your hand.

“Everyone this is Y/N, my girlfriend” he says. He leads you over to a chair. He then introduces everyone. You slowly start to feel at home. He was right the 118 does feel like a family.

#911fanfic #buck #buckley #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley x you #evan buck buckley #evan buckley imagines #evan x reader #evan buckley fic #buckley x reader #buckley x y/n

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

what are your thoughts on the ministrife situation? imo literally the worst fate for eridan to be damned to tbh

i think he will eventually (after <5 minutes) just shoot cronus and leave. (CW for mentions of abuse and cronus's romantic grossness and stuff under the cut).

Ignoring the extremely creepy and gross fact that Hussie doesn't seem to have a problem with the age gap (it's There, we've acknowledged that it's creepy and weird, i personally think it highlights how immature the dancestors are despite their physical age, and it actually serves to hint at how trash they are, but it's still really uncomfortable in the moment and never gets properly called out. In any case we've talked about it critically, we can move on and talk about characterization now), he and cronus are actually kind of polar opposites. Given that Cronus, along with many of the dancestors, are riffing on what the fandom interpretation of their Alternian counterparts are, it's kind of a fascinating look at all the things Eridan ISN'T.

The fandom (especially at the time) had flattened Eridan down to "overdramatic Nice Guy hipster who won't stop hitting on people," with varying degrees of sympathy. In other words, they took all of Eridan's outward presentation - the narration calling his genuine anxiety and distress "overblown emotional theatrics," the fact that his being rejected was a running gag - entirely at face value, while also missing what sort of archetype he was actually supposed to represent.

At no point does Eridan ever actually mention a hipster interest, like vintage clothes or indie media. It's all entirely in his design and Karkat calling him a hipster (it's not even in his character introduction), so presumably, it IS a part of his character (Karkat knows him really well), but it's probably a part he keeps to himself, like his love of wizards.

Moreover, he isn't really a Nice Guy. The closest he gets is thinking Nepeta owes him a chance for saving her life, but as far as we can tell, he only ever asked her once, got rejected, accepted that rejection, and has never taken out that rejection on her. When he complains about it, he frames it as a bitter "I guess what I did wasn't enough," not "she's an unreasonable witch withholding romance from me even though I'm so nice to her." All other romance attempts are crimes of... just being way too forward.

He bursts into Kanaya's DMs demanding she auspicetisize with Vriska because... that's what she likes to do, right? The same happens to Terezi in [S] Karkat: Wake Up. He comes on strong in Rose's DMs and after getting a little annoyance back, goes "wow, we kinda have something," and does not realize her blowing up his computer is a rejection because she didn't explicitly tell him no and he's a dumbass. And even though he's nasty at Sollux because emotionally, he's still bitter about Sollux "stealing" Feferi from him, at least CONSCIOUSLY he's recognized the rejection on both fronts and has repeatedly told Feferi that he has no more interest in getting back together with her, in spite of her recognizing that he's emotionally not over her. And speaking of Feferi, his confession to her is entirely genuine and respectful toward her feelings. At no point does he indicate that he feels like she owes him a date.

These aren't Nice Guy actions, they're "I have 0 social skills or self-awareness" actions. And also a little bit "due to my trauma and anxiety and desensitization to murder, I struggle to care about other people" actions. He's not even actually casteist or genocidal - I spent an entire essay arguing that.

But regardless, that's what the fandom ran with, in large part because they didn't bother reading between the lines. Ironically, like Eridan, they just believed what he told them. I don't even necessarily blame the fandom - at least part of this obfuscation was intentional, and a clever trick on the part of the writing. By highlighting Eridan at his worst, and having the narration be complicit in his self-delusion and mockery, the story is able to put the audience in the same mindset as his in-universe bullies - Eridan is dumb weirdo whose emotional problems are worthy of ridicule, not sympathy. Let's all point and laugh!

This sets up his meltdown to be more of a twist - even though his literal introduction is him killing something and talking about genocide, the very real danger he poses is forgotten both by the audience and the other characters because they've gotten so used to dismissing his feelings that they ignore his cries for help and the warning signals he gives off. And it makes his character more relevant and meaningful, because this happens in real life all the time - I'm sure we either all either knew, or were, the friendless weirdo at school who, upon reflection, definitely had either some bad shit going on at home or severe and untreated mental illness (or both).

The reason I'm bringing up this fandom misinterpretation is because, like a couple other dancestors, Cronus is very much a riff on the fanon version of his Alternian counterpart. Unlike Eridan, who's not actually casteist, but desperately trying to act the part, Cronus IS a casteist sea dweller who thinks he's better than lowbloods and land dwellers. Unlike Eridan, who seeks emotional connections with others, and accepts rejections, Cronus is only looking for some action, and keeps trying even well after he knows he's been rejected. Unlike Eridan, who's so consumed by anxiety and trauma that he's pretty much unable to function properly, Cronus DOES exaggerate his problems and explicitly leverage them for attention and sympathy. And unlike Eridan, who feels crushed under the weight of duty and responsibility, and tends to blame himself when things go wrong, Cronus refuses to take responsibility for anything, immediately blaming anybody BUT himself.

They're practically exact opposites, and this is, again, a clever trick on the part of the writing. It's an excellent usage of a foil: though superficially similar, the differences between these two really serves to highlight just how much Eridan is NOT the things that Cronus IS.

And it's especially interesting given that Eridan spent his entire life trying to emulate Dualscar, to the point of modeling his outfit after the guy. To him, it was not only his duty, but his inevitable fate, to wind up as Dualscar's successor. And when he finally meets the guy in person, his opinion is "even I think you're trash."

If that isn't a form of rejecting the values his society has told him repeatedly that he has to uphold, maybe in the service of perhaps setting up some sort of redemption arc or something, I don't know what is.

I've seen people point to this moment as kind of a hee haw funny one-off joke, look at how little Hussie cares about Eridan, but that's not what it is to me. You don't really need to say anything more about their relationship to each other. Eridan thinks Cronus (and by extension, everything Cronus stands for - and everything Eridan has tried to be) is garbage, but is lonely and friendless and desperate enough that he feels pushed into accepting it anyway. It's extremely consistent with his characterization and character arc.

So uh, yeah. Join me next time for more deep dives on how this funny innocuous thing in Homestuck actually Means Something.

#homestuck #eridan ampora

[lonely-cowboy]

breaking point

pairing: connor (rk800) x gn!reader

summary: to prove which of you is the better detective, you and connor like to play a little game. this time around, connor is more determined than ever to reach your breaking point.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: nothing but wildly ooc connor, it’s just them yapping away and being arrogant lil assholes

author's note: do i like this? not at all. am i gonna blame it on the fact it's 1am? sure. i just wanted to write smth ok, leave me alone

masterlist ⟡ requests

The best days at the precinct were the ones with no work. No crime scenes to investigate, no files to sort, no nothing. But they weren’t your favorite because you hated your job and the workload (quite the opposite, actually). No, they were your favorite because you could have some alone time with Connor, playing the little game you always did. 

As head forensic psychologist, you were primarily tasked with interviewing suspects and analyzing their reactions. Your job got a lot harder when Connor joined the department, making your job look so much easier than it actually was.

Rather than view him as your rival, you viewed Connor as a challenge. You wanted to prove (to yourself more than anyone else) that you were just as good at your job as any android. Besides, you respected Connor’s interrogation process far too much to hate him. Or rather, you liked watching him during his interrogation process. Really, you just liked watching him in general.

When there was no work and the precinct was nearly empty, you and Connor were allowed to take over the interrogation room. You would sit across from each other, doing everything you could to make the other break in a mock interrogation.

It was there that you found yourself, hands neatly clasped atop the table and brow raised in arrogant curiosity. Connor stood opposite you with his palms pressed against the table, scrutinizing you with narrowed eyes. His eyes scanned over you as he tilted his head in that annoyingly endearing way before pulling back and rubbing his hands together in thought.

“Do you believe Lieutenant Anderson is a good mentor?” Connor asked.

The two of you always asked each other meaningless questions, doing your best to refrain from answering or to successfully lie to the other. At this question, you remained silent for a moment longer than you should have. 

“Yes,” you replied simply, offering a nonchalant shrug in an attempt to throw Connor off.

“You’re lying,” he accused immediately.

“I would never,” you retorted. “I’m offended you would think so.”

Connor ceased his questioning to eye you suspiciously. His eyes trailed over your body for any indication of discomfort or nervousness. You hoped he wouldn’t find any.

“The brevity of your response and lack of natural movement suggest you’re lying,” Connor said as he studied you again. “You believe you’d be a better mentor than Lieutenant Anderson, don’t you?”

“In some aspects, yes,” you answered truthfully. After all, to lie properly was to occasionally tell the truth.

Connor nodded along with your response, noting the way you remained unaffected despite being caught in a lie. He would need to do something more to break you, something that would make you sweat.

Your gaze followed Connor as he started to pace the length of the room. Your attention was drawn to his LED as it flashed quickly between colors. Blue. Yellow. Red. Red? Yellow.

The occasional bright red made your brows furrow. Was he really that stumped? He couldn’t think of a single way to break you? You doubted it. Something else must have been on his mind, your thoughts racing at what could have him so conflicted.

“Connor,” you whispered hesitantly.

The sound of his name seemed to snap him back to attention. Connor immediately stopped pacing and fixed you with a steady gaze as if he had come to a decision. With careful steps, Connor rounded the table to stand beside you. He leaned against the table and looked down at you with his arms crossed confidently.

“You’re hard to break, aren’t you?” he murmured.

The crease between your brows deepened as your confusion grew. You were puzzled by Connor’s sudden proximity and the low tone of his voice.

“Well, I… I guess it’s part of the job,” you said softly.

Connor nodded and agreed simply, “Truth.”

Another beat of silence passed as Connor did nothing but watch you. His eyes flitted about your figure, though it seemed as though he wasn’t analyzing you this time around. It was like he was looking at you just to look at you.

“Do you find enjoyment in our little game? In successfully lying to me?” Connor inquired.

You were hesitant to answer, your confusion outweighing any thought. When you did speak, your voice cracked slightly when you answered, “Yes.”

“Do you find enjoyment in other ways from our game?” he continued.

“No.”

“Lie.”

You couldn’t help but stare at Connor. You wanted to tear your gaze away from his desperately, but there was something so appealing about the hardness of his typically gentle eyes. 

When you didn’t answer, Connor raised his brows and leaned forward expectantly. The intensity of his gaze made you suddenly nervous, your heart racing as you moved to fidget with your hands.

“I need a truthful answer, Detective,” Connor stated firmly.

He knew the answer. He knew you were lying. He just wanted you to say it. There was no point in denying anything now.

“Yes.”

Connor hummed and finally pulled his gaze away from you, allowing you to sigh in relief. There was something in his eyes that made you… inexplicably anxious. 

“Can you elaborate?” Connor prodded after a moment.

“I can,” you replied quietly. “But I don’t want to.”

At your refusal, Connor’s attention snapped back to you, the crinkle in his brow suggesting his mild surprise.

“Why is that, Detective?” he urged. When he got no response, only your steady gaze locked with his, he continued. “Are you worried it may incriminate you?”

“No,” you replied calmly. 

Admittedly, you were very proud of yourself for keeping such an unperturbed composure. Your face remained tranquil and your voice confident. But your external composure meant nothing, not when it was Connor interrogating you. He could detect your pounding heart and uneven breaths with ease. You bet he could even sense the claminess of your palms.

“Lie.”

You weren’t entirely sure why you even attempted to lie anymore. Connor was a walking polygraph, he could see through any of your lies no matter how believable they were.

But being as stubborn as you were, you refused to admit that Connor was right. Instead, you sucked in a slow breath and pressed your lips in a thin line, eyes locked on Connor the entire time. Your stubbornness made him frown, though you knew it was a quality he had always admired.

“Fine. If you won’t tell me yourself then I’ll just have to guess,” Connor shrugged with mock defeat. He pretended to think for a moment, lips pursed in a way that made your eyes dart to his mouth. “Is it because you find superiority in besting me?”

Connor started tame. Anyone would feel superior after besting an android, he was well aware of that. And you knew he was aware. What was he trying to get at?

“Yes, partially,” you said, cursing yourself for admitting that it was only part of the reason you found your mock interrogations so enjoyable.

Connor seemed unphased by your answer as if he already knew there was more to your enjoyment. He sat in quiet deliberation again, though he had already settled on his next question. 

“Is it because you’re attracted to me?” Connor questioned innocently.

Connor was smart, you knew this. You knew this and still thought that maybe– just maybe— he wouldn’t be able to guess correctly.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing away from Connor, knowing that it only made you look more suspicious. You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes focused on the wall in front of you. 

“Detective?” Connor pressed as he waited patiently for an answer.

You startled at the light touch of his hand on your chin as he slowly turned you back to him. He kept a gentle but firm grip on your chin, looking down at you questioningly. The feeling of his skin against yours didn’t help at all. It only worked to accelerate your heartbeat, which Connor immediately took note of.

“Your heart rate has increased by 32%, Detective,” Connor observed. “An increased and irregular heart rate is typically a sign of nervousness. Are you nervous?”

“You know the answer,” you mumbled.

“You’re right, I do,” he confessed easily. “But I want to hear it from you; are you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Because I was correct in assuming you’re attracted to me?”

You inhaled slowly, working up the nerve to answer. But there was no point, you both knew your answer. He knew. You knew. It felt like everyone in the precinct– everyone in the world– knew.

“Yes…”

The corner of Connor’s lips quirked into a satisfied smirk having successfully broken his most stubborn participant. He slowly pulled his hand away from your chin, resting it flat against the tabletop. His arrogance sparked something inside you, compelling you to act unnaturally bold.

“Fine, you win,” you grunted, rising from your seat. “Congratulations.”

Without much thought, you reached for Connor’s tie and yanked him into you, smashing your lips against his. Your hand was tight around his tie, your nerves seeping into your grip. You pulled away sharply, only allowing him a quick kiss before your nerves could fully return. You released his tie and gently pushed his chest to put some distance between the two of you. 

“There’s your prize,” you hissed, though you both knew there was nothing menacing behind your tone.

It was Connor’s turn to feel flustered, finally. His cheeks were coated with a faint blush, his eyes wide and utterly perplexed. His lips were still parted slightly like he was savoring the feeling of your lips against his. Unease boiled in your chest the longer Connor did nothing.

But the look in his eyes settled any feelings of insecurity. He looked entirely infatuated with you. And when he spoke again, that infatuation only made itself clearer. 

“If this is my prize, I’ll have to win more often.”

#detroit become human #connor x reader #dbh connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh connor #connor rk800

[ddejavvu]

Aaron Hotchner is the type of man to switch sides when you’re walking so he can be closest to the road. U don’t catch on, just get steadily more and more exasperated bc he does this little jog behind you so he can get to ur other side and u just don’t get it

"Now what I don't understand," You puzzle, talking animatedly with your hands as you think, brows furrowed, "Is why he wouldn't take a souvenir from this victim. Was it something about them? Or- or were they rushed, or did their tactic change? It was such a critical part of the process," You huff, storming through an empty crosswalk on the way back from a crime scene. Hotch follows behind you, letting you duck out in front of him in your blind frustration.

"I'm not sure," He concludes drearily, "But I'd wager that it wasn't the last option. They take the souvenirs they take for psychological reasons, and I doubt those changed this suddenly."

You hear Aaron's voice shift from behind you to your right, and his broad frame crowds you into the houses on your left. You shift with him, falling into stride beside him down the next block.

"The neighbors said they didn't hear anything," You reason, "So if they were rushed, it wasn't because they were at risk of getting caught. Maybe they needed to be somewhere else? To- to attend to their previous victim? Anna was still alive at the time." You reference the now-deceased victim, who'd been held captive for six days prior to her death.

"She was being kept alive carefully," Hotch nods from beside you, and his hand shoots out to hover in front of your midriff before your foot can hit the street again. You glance sideways at him in mild annoyance, but find that a car rolls towards you from the right. You let it pass, impatience coming to a rolling boil under your skin.

As soon as its bumper is out of your path you're shooting through the street, hellbent on picking your team's brain on the subject. You're too lost in thought to notice what side of the sidewalk you're trekking over, but when Aaron's hand comes to ghost against your hip, nudging you to the left, you throw him a glare.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making sure you don't walk into the street," He huffs, "Move over."

You do quite the opposite, in fact, you come to a complete stop. It takes him a moment to orient himself, and he steps back from where he'd been pressed against you.

"You mean to tell me that you've been ducking behind me every five seconds to be chivalrous?"

"Well if you weren't such a maniac on the sidewalk I wouldn't have to worry," He snaps, "You almost stepped in front of a car."

"I could have made it," You gripe, but when you start walking again, it's on the left side of the sidewalk, "But fine. Be a gentleman."

"Thank you," He drawls sarcastically, matching your stride as you powerwalk back to the precinct, "You know, if I come back without you, they're all going to kill me."

"Prentiss would kill you." You muse, "Morgan might just punch a wall or something."

"I think I'd be the most worried about Reid," Aaron muses, and you turn a confused expression his way.

"He'd throw a book at me," Hotch decides, "And he's re-reading War and Peace."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

[mayuichi]

how do you think Tighnari would deal with a crush where he walks in on this conversation? Collei says to crush “Oh please don’t think too harshly of Tighnari. I know he sounds harsh. He actually is very nice”. And crush looks so puzzled, “what? He was being harsh with me? I think he’s sweet”?

First I'm really sorry I took forever to answer you! Sickness kicks in for the past two weeks and I literally have no strength at all! But today's the day I'm going to answer it the way I think it'd be!

I hope you'll be happy and satisfied with how I made it And thank you for the little scenario you made me have about it~

In the peaceful scenery of the forest, your best friend passionatelly talks of her studies. You know Collei for a long time now, and you're well aware that she isn't the type to have lots of days off... So when she asks if you want to hangout, how could you refuse?

You don't know as much of the Avidiya Forest as her, your knowledge on it is only about what you've heard through your friends, or when you'd get scolded by the Chief Officier himself.

Sitting in between the trees, her voice trails off, and she turns to look at you. “By the way...„ your head snaps up at her worried tone. “I know Tighnari can become somehow a tyrant when it comes to the forest but...„

You stare. Tighnari, a tyrant? It's true you aren't too close of him, but it isn't because you think badly of him. On the opposite! You find it endearing and amazing that some people are willing to take care of nature. You just don't need to see him everyday.

But when he comes by the city, he always makes a detour to come visit you. He enjoys your talks, and so do you. How could you not anyway? He brings you some sweet flowers when he stops by, and if he forgets, he apologises.

“A... tyrant?„ you question quietly, a silent chuckle escaping you. “I-.. I mean! The other day, I saw him scolding you pretty badly! I don't want you to think he enjoys doing so! He just cares both about the forest and the people!„ she corrects herself.

It's true. You came around last week and, unfortunately for you, you've done such a silly mistake! And that under the very eyes of the fennec boy. It didn't took many seconds before he helped you and took the occasion to scold your stupid behavior.

“And... That was supposed to be bad? I found it... Nice of him. I never saw him as harsh.„ you reassure her. She sighs in relief and leans closer to you. She's an idiot to think you'd see Tighnari poorly, isn't she? But you won't mention it. Instead, you let her rest her head against you and appreciate the moment.

But little do you know...

The little fennec fox man is on patrol, and overheard the conversation you just had. His cheeks flashed pink and his ears flattened on his head. Did he heard this right? Poor baby has always been anxious you'd think his duty as a Forest Watcher aren't separated from who he truly is!

He's fast to make a runaway from the crime scene, though. If you or Collei would see he eavedropped on you, he'd be dead on the spot! He reaches his tent rapidly, deciding he'd just fill some reports instead.

So when a few hours later, he hears yours and Collei's laughters ringing in his ears, he stands up to sneak to his door and watch you. Collei's about to depart and call it a day. And you'd do the same... If he would've not called for your attention.

“So... You like my scolding?„ he teases. How could he not? If he doesn't, he'll just stutter and be incapable to say a thing. But now, you're the one stuttering.

Rolling your eyes to try and ignore his words, you scoff. “As if! I just know you don't do it because you enjoy it.„ you deny, even if a part of you has to admit... You like his scolding. And he could see right through you. “Wait! How do you even know that?! Did you listened to us?!„

His eyes widen, forgetting about that fact. He clears his throat and gazes away. Now, your cheek took a pink tint, just like his. “... If you don't say I did, I won't mention to anyone you like my scolding.„

Hesitantly locking your eyes with his, a silence takes place until you take a few steps back. “I keep your secret, you keep mine... And that's a deal. Now I'll, erhh.. get going!„

You don't even let him answer you and flee. You've never felt so embarrassed before, but something in it made it so nice. You're eager for it to happen again.

Both of you have a crush on one another, and you know it. But he loves that cat and mouse play way too much, just like you, to be the one to confess first.

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuichi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.

#/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ's writing #/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ's answers #genshin impact #genshin #genshin tighnari #genshin impact tighnari #tighnari #tighnari x reader #genshin tighnari x reader #x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Since day one in Aaru village, your life has become... less difficult, to say the least. Since that fateful night where Candace had brought you under her care, the elders of the village became aware that your presence could have brought problems and that the other archons would clam up your head and the lives of the villagers as punishment for the crime of hiding the "imposter". But Candace was adamant about the matter: you were nothing but a victim of some circumstances, and the village would have not turned its head to the other side on a travaller in need of help.

Dehya, besides being one of the few who wanted you far away from there, decided to follow Candace in her judgment. Not because she feared that glim of protectiveness that she showed to you, but because, after all, there was truth in her words. You were fragile, a flower that was supposed to burn under the scorching sun.

She never understood the protector, and then something changed.

Maybe it was that, despite what others from other nations said, you never actually claimed to be the Creator or something. Y/n, such a simple name—so human. Why would someone who could easily make people believe that they are indeed the creator, the allmighty, the one who rules their world just go around without even thinking about that possibility?

Maybe it was that gleam in your eyes? The one that wandered over the desert, seeing it as a place full of wonders and adventure, but still respected it, not taking it as a mere desolated pile of sand?

Maybe it was the fact that, every day, you greeted Candace with a smile that could even compare to the sun while trying to sound nice even to her, despite how harshly you were with her at the beginning? Maybe it was your laugh while plaing with the children, taking care of them, helping people around...

Maybe it was something around each of these suggestions, but she could even understand that questioning gaze when she politely asked you to just sit on a cushion with a brush in her hand.

"...W-why..."

"Well, firstly, because I noticed that your ingested harm can't even take care of your basic needs...and because I thought it could be a nice gesture..."

She felt waves of embarrassment clashing with her. It was a stupid idea, but she honestly thought that could ease your mind! She likes taking care of her own hair; it makes her head less heavy!

"I-I...forget it, it was a stupid i-"

"NO! No, no, it's not... I would love to, really!"

There was a slight chance that, maybe, that was more an act of politeness than the actual desire to spend some quality time with her, but it was something, right?

You never thought that Dehya was harsh or aggressive. Well, she was in battle with her enemies, but she was usually protective of the people for whom she genuinely cared. Her hand massaged calmly on your scal, the brush caressed gently on your length, and her nails were so gentle on our skin. It was relaxing. I remember a nice moment when someone who cared for you treated you this way. You could swear that you heard Dehya humming something behind her sealed lips.

"You right, it feels nice."

"It does? I'm glad then, but don't think I'll do this often; I'm still needed around here, you know"?"

"Y-yeah..."

Another thing came to our minds. It was more of a question that, in the end, was a normal thought that wanted to come out of your mind. Your finger is scratching the skin of your opposites, catching a Dehya face connected to some small knots in your hair.

"You're not forced to be nice to me."

She stopped all of a sudden. A strange questioning look on her face was facing your own.

"I know that I can be troubled. That's why Candace is working to find me a new home! I just thought that if you want to avoid me, I'm not blaming you!"

"Cut it."

It was more of a growl than a request. Her eyes turned a fierce one, yet she remained composed on her seat, reaching with her free hand for our arm.

"If I hadn't wanted to be here, then you wouldn't have seen me at all. I'm not nice with you by force; I'm nice because I want to."

Her grip wasn't painful at all; it felt comforting, but not as much as her words. Then a small blush appeared on her cheekbone, and she started to scrawl with her other hand, the brush still in her hand.

"You have it hard. I must say you are pretty much stronger than you believe. I never met someone who could be this nice after all the hell they've been through. So..."

Another thing you learned was that Dehya wasn't the girl you thought she was—she was even better.

#genshin impact #genshin sagau #dehya #creator!reader #dehya x reader

[unbidden-yidden]

And so as not to derail that previous post further, I'm taking my rant to this new post, but shit like that makes me so angry for so many reasons:

It's a hate crime against Jews, many of whom are totally uninvolved in the current situation

Let's say that hypothetically that this organization and every single one of its members was publicly advocating for the destruction of Gaza** or something: vandalizing a synagogue is still a hate crime, because you're not just targeting that community by spewing antisemitism, you are targeting all Jews. Every Jew. Every Jewish institution. Because the thing is that there is never an excuse for antisemitism. If you say that there is, what you're saying is that antisemitism IS okay as long as it's directed at Bad Jews or Jews you don't like. I can't stand Caitlin Jenner, but I'm not gonna call her out of her name or misgender her. Kanye is a walking dumpster fire of a human, but that doesn't mean I get to say racist stuff about him. And yeah - even Jews with the worst, ugliest opinions do not legitimize antisemitism. Come on guys, this is Social Justice 101.

And another thing: Let's assume again the worst about this group - they still don't have any power to actually change or stop what's happening in Israel. They are diaspora Jews who, unless they are randomly dual citizens, cannot vote and do not live there. Even if this antisemitic hate crime somehow inspired a deep reflection about who and how they are as Jews (massively unlikely for reasons that should be obvious), them taking up the torch of anti-Zionism does not have any legal significance. This act, in addition to being a hate crime, is one that is not even strategic in helping to shut down bad actors with actual power, nor is it at all calculated to build community bridges.

In fact, it is almost guaranteed to have the opposite effect: these vandals have not only made enemies of this community, but alienated any other potential Jewish allies.

But even if we set that aside, assuming that they don't care, it's massively counterproductive in that it will likely inspire more diaspora Jews to feel unsafe in that location and consider aliyah as an answer. If anything, these kinds of acts of blind hatred only reinforce the legitimate fear behind much of Zionism. You people just can't help proving again and again that Jews are physically, emotionally, spiritually, and socially unsafe in the diaspora and need somewhere that is guaranteed to take us in when the next Kristallnacht happens.

It's also counterproductive, even if you actually just want Jews to die and don't care where we go; you actively want the destruction of Israel and all of the Jewish people because you're an antisemitic jackass you think it's somehow deserved: Normal people actually don't want that, and so if you're trying to attract other goyim who are decent people to your cause, associating pro-Palestinian activism with hate crimes is one of the worst things you can do in terms of PR and moral high ground.

Using Palestinian lives, deaths, and suffering as a bludgeon ignores them as real people and dehumanizes them and their struggle in the process. Anyone engaging in or excusing this kind of behavior is misusing their cry for justice as a get-out-of-antisemitism-free card, dehumanizing them by turning them into a weapon, and diverting much-needed energy away from things that actually help to doing PR cleanup and having to publicly distance themselves from these disgusting acts.

(**Please note that I am not saying these people were; in fact, I have yet to see a not-reactionary right-wing fringe Jewish group calling for anything but a return of the hostages and praying for peace in the region)

[blingblong55]

The Great War -141 & Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

with the new mw3, lets do angst, something along the lines of “Somewhere in the haze, got a sense i’ve been betrayed” coming from us because 141 betrayed us horribly, which ended up in us getting tortured and then we pretennd its fine when it isnt. forget and forgive we lie and when we meet with Makarov, we tell them, ‘oops sorry, forgot i was also a enemy at some point, guess its time to betray like real enemies do’ and as we set Makarov free, we show that we have been working as his spy ever since they betrayed us. also can this be with a female reader and we also marry makarov behind their backs so thats why we betray so hard? i love u! ---- F!Reader, soldier!reader, enemy!reader, betrayal, mentions of war and violence ----

Part 1, Part 2

One was set to win. That win would set a new record for all criminals and good men. This is how modern warfare changes for the better and worse of us.

This is the great war.

"So, how will we do this?" Price asks Laswell, who was looking at the board of pinned suspects and the three main targets. A love triangle, what a mistake and blessing this was for the three people involved. "I gathered some intel, I know that tension is high with Makarov and R/N. My source tells me Ghost is driving a line between the two lovers and we will use that leverage." Amongst all the people looking for the three criminals, there was an underground world that wanted their story to succeed. After all, what is evil without danger? 

Meanwhile, somewhere in Amsterdam. 

"Simon, stop-"

"R/N, he isn't going to make us last long," Ghost tried to reason his idea for throwing Makarov to the dogs that the soldiers around the world were. "We are not killing my fucking husband, I am not going to give him to Laswell so she can send him to prison." The gun in your hands is cleaned from the fresh blood. 

Everyone knew that this is what always kills such powerful villains. Love the fact that someone else was introduced to the already steady team. Simon was a liability, there was no lie there but what he brings to the table is stronger. His background runs deep and he knows best. 

Soldiers on both sides train, wanting their idea of 'Good' to win. In war, there is no good. It is all bad and cruel, even if you are told you are on the good side of history, you know deep inside, that for one story there are two sides, so you will always be a villain no matter what. 

Six months and five days and now you find yourself in a meeting room. Vladimir tells soldiers the plan, Ghost giving you a look and then you looking at your husband. His hand holds yours, "We are doing this to end those who think they have better us and we will crush them. 

It was a nightmare for Task Force 141 to fight against their own. 

There you were, opposite sides of the line. Guns in hand, bombs waiting to explode and you, holding Vladimir's hand. The first gun shot fired and it was to the opposing team. 

This is how all wars begin. 

Price had minor scratches, Gaz with a minor wound to his shoulder and Soap, running across the hills to place bombs and ready himself for what came. On the other side, snipers were on hold, Ghost commanding them. Vladimir commits crimes as his militia moves closer to the targets. 

Skies roar, rain and thunder fall but no one has any reason to stop. One must win, they all think and dream of. 

Three weeks into this and there you stood, watching as both sides created good-faith treaties. Ghost gives you a knowing look and you shake your head. "No, we're not going with that plan," you oppose but the man with the final word is Makarov. 

"My love, there is no other choice," his hands take hold of your face. "No, we're not doing that. Please, let's not do this, Vlad," you plead and he kisses your forehead. 

As he told you the steps to this dreaded plan, all went silent. Life flashed as his words continued. Everyone in that room watched as you shed tears, as you held your husband and as you continued to refuse the plan. 

"I'll see you soon," Vladimir kisses your forehead and leaves the room. His men holding you back. "Ghost," you say out of desperation but all he does is give you a small head shake. "Sorry," he whispers and leaves. 

Once you had calmed down, you were guided to Makarov's private office, where you just awaited with grief. 

Out in the field, Vladimir turns to Ghost. "We fight or die, you hear me?" "Loud and clear," Ghost says back and they both go into position. 

141 and Konni Group made up floors with blood and gun shells. It was a blood bath and one that would guarantee some repercussions. 

One shot made the surrounding areas fall silent. 

"Enemy down," Ghost says over the radio.

Vladimir looks up at Ghost. "You sonovabitch," Vladimir tries to sit up but Ghost presses his boot to his throat. "You took men I worked with down back in London, and rest assured it won't happen again." Ghost pointed his gun to the side of Makarov. "And don't worry, your widow will be occupied as you burn in hell." His finger is close to the trigger. 

"Don't you dare hurt her!"

"Who said anything about hurting? She will be a widow for a short time, soon or later, that widow will become my wife."

Ten minutes later, Ghost knocks on the door. You open it expecting to find him and Makarov but he hands you Makarov's gun and he shakes his head. "No, please...please tell me this isn't true," you begin to cry. "I'm sorry. I tried to stop him but-"

"Stop him?"

"He committed suicide" The lie left Ghost's lips. 

"No, no that isn't true. He would never-"

"R/N, I saw him, I tried to reason with him but...nothing worked and I was there too late, I'm sorry." He hugs you. 

Then the conversation he told you before stepping out of the meeting room made more sense. 

"If me and Ghost don't make it back to the office, you grab your bag and go to Switzerland. A home has been set for you, it's a peaceful place and I know it'll be difficult to move on but my love, you have to. Don't look back and live a long life. There is a bank account that has billions of dollars in it. You use that money for whatever you please. I love you," he kissed your hands and sighed. 

Many will win. Many will die. Many will go home and just like Makarov, many will die on cold frozen ground, away from their loved ones and away from home. 

Back at the 141 HQ. 

"Laswell, explain it!" Price said through gritted teeth. 

"Fine." She sat down and lit her cigarette. 

"I made R/N fall for Makarov. I was the reason they met. I sent all of you away from her and I made her and Ghost stay behind so she could have some rendevous with Makarov. You wanted Makarov dead and you got it."

"You fucking lied to us," Gaz mentions. 

"No, I didn't lie. I just didn't tell you the truth of the real plan."

"And what is the real plan?" Soap questions.

"Unbeknownst to everyone but me and Ghost, I made R/N fall for Makarov. Who do you think gave her the advice to marry her prohibited love? I knew Ghost fell for R/N long before Makarov came into the picture. So I made a deal. He and R/N live a life away from worry and in exchange, he betrays us and kills Makarov. It's crazy how far love goes." 

"Alex was right about you," Gaz mentions and Laswell shakes her head. "Gentlemen, you got what you wanted. Makarov is dead and Russia is in talks to prevent another attack. We all win."

"Why not imprison him?" Soap asks. 

"He would escape. So, Ghost came up with the plan to kill Makarov as he pretended to be on the side of Konni. It's not a complicated scheme," Laswell crosses her legs and lets out a puff of smoke. 

"You made us believe Ghost betrayed us-"

"What about R/N? Did she know about this plan of yours?" Price, as the older brother he was to you asks. 

"She didn't know and as far as I'm concerned, she believes Makarov committed suicide. He even went out of his way to make her life away from the military comfortable and gave her nearly 2 billion dollars so she could live comfortably. If only he knew that Ghost would also enjoy those riches," she chuckles and stands up. 

"Go rest," she advises and leaves the room. 

In every story, there will always be villains.  

A/N: Tagged everyone in the original post since I believe this will be the last part to this..

Tags:

@liyanahelena @bbyfimmie @missaimfire14red @tf141glory @quaritchscupquake @dilfgestivo @thefragmented@scarletdfox @arialikestea @unicorngirly1 @alhaizen @willowaftxn83-87 @koniglovesme@bbyfimmie @mothcelestial @kit-kats06 @palomesa @dheet @dontfearthereaperazura

Join my TagList

#cod #cod x reader #mw3 x reader #ghost cod #cod 141 #mw2 141 #task force 141 #141 x reader #141 #cod mw3 #mw3 #call of duty mw3 #cod mwii #makarov cod #vladimir makarov #makarov call of duty #makarov x reader #cod modern warfare #cod makarov #141 task force #cod laswell #kate laswell #laswell cod #laswell mw2 #call of duty laswell

[uncpanda]

Found Out

AN: The Law and Order SVU and Batman crossover no one, absolutely no one asked for, but I still wrote. Cause I can ;)

Warnings: Mentions of serial killers. Nothing graphic.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

For being some of the smartest, most intelligent, detectives in the world, the superheros in your life are fairly oblivious. And on some level you’re really thankful for that. It allows you the freedom to do your job without their henpecking. 

On the opposite side of the spectrum, the people you work with, your second family, are some of the kindest, most intelligent, and hardworking detectives you’ve ever met, but they’re also oblivious to the fact that you’re married to a billionaire. 

You had never really meant to keep the worlds separate. It had started off innocent enough, you’d joined NYPD as a beat cop while Bruce was out studying to become the Bat. And when he got home you’d spent every spare minute helping him. Between that and the company he’d been too exhausted to ask anything other than a few questions about your job. He knew you worked for a large organization in NYC and that was it. He trusted you. And the boys were just as oblivious as their father. The only person who knew was Alfred. He’d been the once to come to your graduation from the academy while Bruce was still away. 

On the flip side, your SVU family knew very little about your home life. They knew you were married, they knew you had kids, but they didn’t know how many. After all, you’d only had the two pregnancies; Terry and Matt had both been big but welcome surprises. Then again ALL of your boys were surprises. And you had perfected your technique of avoiding the paparazzi for both SVU and Gotham High Society. 

Honestly, in your mind, there was no reason at all for your two worlds to meld. When you were at home, you took care of your family; when you were at work you tried really hard not to think of them, because despite crime fighting, you didn’t want them anywhere near these types of crimes. 

Of course, nothing lasts forever, but you figure twenty years is a good run, especially when Bruce is driving Dick away for his desire to be a cop. You watch them go back and forth for hours, before you finally step in. There are groans from the other boys about stopping the fight while Cass just grins, and you ignore all of them. 

“You’re going to stop this right now Bruce Wayne.” 

His eyes are hard, his jaw is set, “You don’t understand Y/N.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you watch Alfred roll his eyes in exasperation, “I understand better than anyone here.” 

His hands go to his hips, and you know he’s about to dig a very deep hole for himself, “Sweetheart, I love you, and I know you work the computers from time to time, but this is different. There are guns involved and he’d have to work inside the system.” 

“So?” 

“You can’t do both; there’s too much to hide.” 

You smile sweetly at him, “I don’t know, I’ve been doing both for the past twenty years. Then again, I suppose it might be different for me since I just worked the computers for a while.” 

He blinks at you, and you know he’s connecting the dots. You ignore him, and turn to your oldest, his eyes wide, “While I understand you wanting to do Bludhaven, if you want to do NYPD, we can drive into the city together. Let me know, I have more than a few favors I can call in.” 

Tim is the first to voice the statement, “You’re a cop?” 

You shrug, “First grade detective, but I’m taking the sergeants exam in a few weeks.” 

Jason stares at you, “Seriously? Are you joking right now?” 

“I joined when I was twenty. I’d finished college early thanks to AP classes, went in as a beat cop, and after five years I became a detective. I’ve been working at SVU for the past fifteen years. They’re like my family away from home.”  

You can tell there are more questions, but no one seems brave enough to ask them. You start to head out of the room, when Bruce asks, “Why did you hide it?” 

You pause and turn to him, “I didn’t. You just never asked.” 

As you leave you hear Alfred ask, “Would you like a shovel for the hole you’re digging sir, or should I just make up the couch for you?” 

You go  wait in your room, and lie down on the bed. A few minutes later Bruce comes in, and you look at each other. His brow is furrowed, eventually he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me? How could I not have known?” 

You smile at him, “I didn’t want you to know Bruce. I was on my own path, and I knew you would worry. At the start I told myself I would tell you eventually, but. . . you were so involved with Batman and you were doing so much good . . . I didn’t want to add to your stress. You were barely sleeping three hours a night at that point. 

“Then we Dick, and I considered telling you but he needed us to focus on him, and after a while it became easier to excuse it. It became my secret identity. Are you mad?” 

He lets out a laugh, “I dress up as a bat, and fight crime as a vigilante. I don’t think I can be mad. I think I’m worried.”

“About?” 

“Us drifting apart, not knowing you?” 

You shrug, “I’m me Bruce. I just also happen to be a cop. I see a lot of bad stuff, everyday. The last thing I want when I come home is to talk about it. Same as you guys. When I’m home I want to be happy, but if you want to know I’ll tell you on one condition.” 

He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, after a moment he asks, “What’s the condition?” 

“You can’t involve Batman. NYPD is not Gotham PD.” 

He nods after a minute. The two of you spend the night talking, you tell him about some close calls, you tell him about the one life you’d been forced to take, you tell him about your frustration. You tell him about Liv and Elliot, and how Elliot leaving crushed Liv, but she rose from the ashes to become a lieutenant. You tell him about Munch and Cragen, both of whom have retired. You tell him about Finn, Rollins, Amaro, Carisi, Dodds and Barba. It’s nearly six in the morning by the time you’re finished. 

“And that’s the majority of it.” 

You’re both lying on the bed staring at each other. Bruce has been largely silent, he’d skipped patrol, and only asked a few questions. A part of you wonders when his anger will hit; it doesn’t. Instead he says, “I am so freaking proud of you,” and then he kisses you. And you can’t help but think, that in a normal marriage, a normal family, this would have been a big deal, it would have broken them. In your family though? It’s another day. 

You call out of work that day to catch up on sleep and spend the day with your family. The boys come up with a bunch of reasons as to why they should have realized you were a cop. 

“You work really weird hours.” 

“You never wore heels to work.” 

“You never wore dresses either, come to think of it?” 

“Is this why we own a penthouse in NYC?” 

Jason is the one who asks, “Where do you keep your gun? I thought those weren’t allowed in the house?”

“You don’t need to worry about it. It’s locked up.” Logically, you know each of your boys knows how to use a gun, mainly for the purpose of knowing how to disarm someone holding a gun. You still don’t want them anywhere near it. For that reason, it’s kept in a DNA safe in Alfred’s room. 

When you go back to work the next day, you have your gun and badge on your hip. All of the men in your life focus on it. Bruce corners you in the kitchen as you’re pouring coffee into a travel mug and whispers, “You look sexy as hell with the badge.” 

You laugh, and then you kiss him. You’re the one who drops Cass, Tim, Damian, Terry, and Matt off at school. Jason is in college, and he drives himself. Dick is still contemplating his options. 

The fact that your family knows makes things a lot easier a few weeks later when Carl Rudnick and Greggory Yates escape from prison. You can hear the worry in Bruce’s voice, when he begs you to be safe and not do anything risky. You snort at that and he chuckles, “I know, I’m a hypocrite, but I’m your hypocrite.” You roll your eyes, because the big doofus, is in fact, yours. You also know he’s keeping a close watch on the man hunt. 

Three days later Rudnick is back in custody, but Yates is still on the run, back to Chicago you’re pretty sure. You’ve gotten maybe five hours of sleep total in those days? You’re exhausted, but you have reports to fill out, and Chief Dodds, the commissioner and a whole bunch of brass are hanging around. 

You’re in hour three of doing paperwork, when you hear whispers. Your eyes flicker up to find your husband smiling at  you from across the room. He’s holding a doggy bag full of food, he’s dressed in a suit that costs thousands of dollars, and you know that people recognize him. 

Finn leans forward, “What the hell is Bruce Wayne doing here?” 

You hear Carisi whisper, “Maybe he’s dating Leiu?” 

You can’t help it, you burst out laughing, because you sometimes forget it’s not common knowledge that Bruce is married, despite the ring on his finger. You avoid galas with the best of them after all. You call it the Batman tax; Bruce can fight crime and you don’t have to show up to stuffy dinner parties.  

Bruce smiles at the laughter, before approaching your desk, he settles into the chair next to your desk. “Really? No pictures of me or the kids?” 

You scoff, “Work stays at work, home stays at home.” 

He frowns, “I’m getting you pictures.” 

You don’t argue with him, “What are you doing here?” 

“I brought you food. Alfred and I figured you hadn’t eaten.” 

“I haven’t had anything outside of vending machine junk in days.” 

He scoffs, “What happened to taking care of ourselves?” 

You shrug, “I’ve been hunting serial killers.” 

His face goes serious, “But you’re okay?” 

“As okay as I can be. They got a few more people, our sergeant took a bullet to the shoulder, Rudnick is back in prison, but Yates is headed only God knows where.” 

His fingers twitch, and you know he’s itching to do something, but he can’t. He can’t get involved in this too. He has all of Gotham to worry about and thanks to the league, sometimes he has to worry about the world. 

He lets out a breath, “Can I join you while you eat?” 

“Yes. You can catch me up on the goings at home.” You lead him past your shocked colleagues, and a room full of shocked officials in Liv’s office and to the breakroom. While you eat, Bruce assures you that the boys are fine, but Damian apparently butchered the hedges again. Clark was apparently being a pain in his ass too. The man of steel wanted your family to come to Kansas for Thanksgiving. 

“I’ll probably have to work, use that as an excuse.” 

Bruce grins, “This job has perks.” 

You lean forward and peck his lips, “Lots of them.” 

When you’re finished you stand up to leave and there is a room watching the two of you. You sigh, and Bruce mutters, “It’s good to know the vultures remain consistent.” 

Chief Dodds is about to step forward and ask a question when you step towards Olivia, “Bruce this Liv. She’s saved my ass more than once over the years. Liv, this is my husband Bruce, remember I talked about him?” 

She grins, “Yes, but you failed to mention he was Bruce Wayne.” 

You feign nonchalance, “Did I? Hmmm.” 

Bruce smiles, it’s the one that has everyone jumping to meet his every need, the one that says he’s as innocent as a choir boy, and he would be your best friend if you let him. You smirk at him while he shakes Liv’s hand, “Thanks for watching her back. The boys and I appreciate it.” 

That’s when Finn steps forward, “That right, you guys have a huge family, right?” 

Bruce’s brow furrows in fake concentration, “We have Dick who is twenty, Jason is eighteen, Cass is Fifteen, Tim is fourteen, Damian is ten, Terry is six, and Matt is four.” He looks at you, “How’d I do?” 

“Perfect score.” 

“We have a full house, but it’s nice.” 

You nod, “Let me walk you out.” 

You make sure Bruce gets to his car, you kiss him, and promise you’ll be home by morning. Once he’s gone you head back up to find everyone waiting on you, it’s Finn who declares, “You have some explaining to do.” 

You sigh, life was easier when no one knew anything. 

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne #bruce wayne reader insert #batman x reader #batman imagine #batman #batman reader insert #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order svu #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #terry mcginnis #batman beyond #olivia benson #finn tutuola #crossover

[yannights]

A Monster from the Depth

Pairing: Yandere Wriothesley x reader

Part 1 Part 2

A/n: this is my first time publishing a story so it may not be as good as future ones, there are many mistakes and problems with the tense. But I am still happy I was able to publish so enjoy!( I am not sure wether to do a part 2 or not)

Warning: Obsessive behaviour, forced imprisonment, intimation, angst, language, panic attack

"You know you can't keep this up forever, right?" he says with a cold expression which was uncharacteristic of him.

You just looked at the floor from the bed and just prayed he would leave you alone. A suffocation silence invaded the room, he was standing in front of you, arms crossed, staring down at your form. You on the other hand, were sitting on the edge of the bed, avoiding his gaze and just stared downward. The darkness contributed to the agonizing atmosphere, however, a small ray of light from outside his bedroom going through the slightly open door that he didn't close properly could be seen. You refused to give him any kind of attention he was longing for, you would not give him what he wanted, since he couldn't care less about what you wanted. Wriothesley was like the devil to you, and definitely had the looks that couldn't convince you otherwise. You were just an angel flying through Fontaine freely until this monster had the audacity to love you and poisoning you in the process. Now you're stuck down below in a place you like to call hell. It was a dark cold place, with you chained to a man you once thought as a gentleman, if only you could have known back then, maybe, just maybe you could have avoided this.

"I've been thinking, your behaviour and attitude have long past their limit. It's been a month and I think it's about time you drop the act. Sulking isn't going to get you anywhere, you are aware of that."

What a joke, is he really that delusional, he can't be serious! Is he really treating you like some kind of child, like this was a sort of tantrum, and an act! As much as you tried to hide your thoughts, your face couldn't stop but slightly change, brows furrowing and biting your lip. He takes notice of this, a small deep sigh escapes his mouth and his arms drop. His hand slowly approaches your face, it takes a moment to realise what he is trying to do, by the time you do notice his index finger already lifts your chin up to get a proper view of your face. This unsurprisingly makes sick, you cringe over the gesture and instantly move backwards and hit the headboard of the bed, quietly hissing at him in the process, like a cat. His eyebrows jolt upwards and his mouth slightly opens, surprised by your action. You could see in that moment his eyes darken

" I have been so nice to you, have I not ?" he says with a deep, cold voice. He starts moving forward around the bed, slowly approaching your cowering form.

"I have endured your little tantrums these past weeks, knowing that it would take time for you to settle in. I have given you what you needed to adapt to this because I am fully aware that this is far from what you want, I am not blind that fact. I have fed you, cleaned, made sure everything was comfortable for you. But you treat me like a monster.."

"That's because you are one!" You shout stepping off of the opposite side of the bed. His movement halts and his face goes back the surprised look he had a few seconds ago, taken aback by the sudden outburst. This was by far the biggest act of defiance yet.

" Do you not realise the torture I have to go through every day when I am with you. You stripped me of everything I possessed. You accused me of a crime I didn't commit, forcing me to go down to the fortress just to be confined in here, i don't even get to go out with the other inmates! What respect do I owe you when the man standing in front of me a selfish pathetic monster ruining my life. How do you expect me to ever love that! I want to go home, I want to be as far away from you you sick freak!"

As you stopped to get a breath, you notice Wriothesley face start to darken, eyebrows frowning and his teeth starting to clench, not to mention that his hands balling into fists. That is when you realised that you had made a big mistake...

"A monster you say? He chuckled with a small smirk appearing. "No, no you haven't seen a monster, sweetheart. But if that is how you perceive me, then I might as well give you a reason to, hm? If that is what you truly desire of course. Is this what you want, a monster?

His movement started slowly moving around the bed. You started to panic, fear englobing you. What was he going to do with you, had you really cross the line with this. You turn your head searching, looking for a way to get aways before he could trap you. That is when you see, the door is still open, if you are quick enough you can go to his office, his office door is usually unlocked when you are in here, maybe you can find someone out there that can help you. You jolt forward to the door, passing him in the process, he doesn't try and stop you but you were to caught up in the moment to care. You opened the bedroom door more and slammed it right behind you. You could feel your heart pounding, your breath turning into loud gasp as you run into his office, forcing your trembling legs to move. You went past his desk full of paperwork, knocking a few in the process. You reached the staircase, moving down and seeing the large door. You jumped three stairs and bolted into the door, taking the handle and forcing it down. But it didn't budge, it was stuck, blocked, as if it were locked.. No, no this can't happen to you. You started banging at the door as a pathetic attempt to have someone hear you from outside. You accumulated enough air to scream until.

"I must say, I am rather disappointed in you sweetheart"

You slowly turned your head, with wide eyes. He was on top of the staircase, one hand on the rail. Your heartbeat was two ounces away from ripping out of your chest, sweat developed and your body shaked against your will. You could here the echo from his steel coated boots hiting the metal stairs as he went down. And that is when you noticed the handcuffs twirling around his fingers. No not that...

" I am going to give you two options here. You either come back with me willingly, and we can discuss this properly. Or you make things difficult, and I force you myself, and I think that is something you would want to avoid since I'm such a scary monster, hm?" He says with a low but mocking tone. He was now standing in front, patiently awaiting your next move. You refused to submit yourself but was it really the smartest option. You could try and fight back or run the other way, but he was a professional boxer, who could easily body you, trap you, slam you against the wall, just the thought of it made you shiver. Wriothesley twirled the the handcuffs even faster, trying to provoque fear to 'help' you decide quicker. You were completely hopeless and weak, but surrendering yourself wasn't going to help you any better, you were still going to be stuck here, no matter what anwer you give, giving up is just going to let him obtain what he wants. You shouldn't let that happen. Your mind started pounding at the thoughts, racing to find a solution to save you.

"Well?" He asks while raising one eyebrow.

" Fuck you"

And that is when you figured it out, the answer he was long waiting for. You took a breath and stared into his eyes and said.

The twirling stopped and the world went silent

...

...

Wrong move...

#yandere #yandere genshin #short story #short #genshin impact #yandere wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #genshin x reader #genshin #yandere x reader

[markantonys]

@twicetolivetwicetodie @butterflydm continuing our seanchan discussion on this post over here because i had Many Thoughts and would have flooded the replies!

"And I know there's the argument that readers being appalled at their actions/our heroes doing horrific things is the point cause of war, etc." this is interesting bc yeah, it's something i see said a lot! but for me i think the biggest problem with the books' handling of it is that so many readers AREN'T appalled by the boys' behavior with the seanchan, because the narrative itself doesn't take their actions seriously. the "well it's meant to show how willing people are to turn a blind eye to fascism" interpretation doesn't work because the narrative itself also turns a blind eye starting in COT. butterflydm pointed out in her reread that the "the seanchan make the trains run on time" propaganda started early in the series and was believed by many people in-world, but rj always made sure to include stuff to show the reader that it isn't true (with the most obvious being egwene's suffering in captivity, but also smaller things like allusions to how violent and war-torn the seanchan continent is due to constant civil war and rebellion). but starting in COTish, he stopped doing the latter and so the pro-seanchan propaganda is left unchecked even by the narrative.

the other problem is, "deal with the devil out of desperation" arcs can totally work IF the character is sufficiently trapped out of any other options, but that didn't happen with the boys, so their capitulating to the seanchan felt like a spineless giving in rather than a desperate last resort. i don't LIKE rand sending damane back into seanchan territory or perrin selling 200 people into slavery, but i think both can definitely work as in-character story beats if treated with a bit more finesse than the books did (rand's actions fit his increasing desperation and "ends justify the means" attitude as the last battle gets closer; perrin's desperation to get faile back At Any Cost fits his character, and would fit especially well in show-verse with the laila guilt). in fact, it's an interesting contribution to the series theme of valuing individuals/small picture vs. valuing causes/big picture, where perrin & rand are on opposite ends of that spectrum yet both end up doing bad things, with perrin sacrificing many for the good of a few and rand sacrificing a few for the good of many.

perrin being besties with tylee and shrugging off his war crime & not getting any consequences (from his conscience, other characters, or the narrative) is what broke the arc for me. and i was with rand's arc even longer, all the way up until AMOL when he showed up to ebou dar with all the bargaining power yet completely folded to tuon's demands re: slavery for no reason. so for these two, i think their actions, while awful, could work in the show from both a character and a story perspective (aside from rand's sudden jello spine with tuon, which needs to be cut/changed altogether) as long as the show a) makes it believable that both boys are desperate enough to stoop to this level (perrin especially; making that agreement with tylee should feel to the viewer and to himself, and to his allies and later faile when she finds out, like he's sold his soul to the devil, not like he's having a grand old time with his new bestie Slaver Tylee), b) sticks the landing and doesn't shield either of them from the natural consequences of their actions (again, especially perrin who lacked this more in the books), and c) doesn't let the narrative (and by extent the viewer) buy into the idea that The Seanchan Aren't So Bad/The Seanchan Make Life Better For Everyone (Except Channelers) the way that some of the characters within the narrative do.

now, this is why i keep coming back to mat as the worst offender. i can see in-character reasons for rand and perrin to make some of the decisions they do re: the seanchan, even though i felt that the narrative didn't properly handle the weight of all of those decisions and that other decisions of theirs were jello-spine-induced nonsense. mat, though, ALL of his decisions re: the seanchan are jello-spine-induced nonsense. at the start of COT, mat has spent 9 books wanting to defy fate & make his own choices in life and also risking his life to free slaves, and tuon has been taken away from her power base and is surrounded by westlanders who should be hostile to her. there is NO reason why mat should suddenly be simpering over tuon and bending over backwards to appease her and trying to leash himself to the fate he wanted nothing to do with last week, not by any stretch of the imagination; it defies both his established characterization AND the entire setup of the situation. so mat's behavior re: the seanchan needs to be completely overhauled. torch the entirety of his COT-KOD arc and just start fresh with something completely different.

the problem does seem to be that between WH and COT, rj decided the seanchan stuff was simply too big to resolve in the main series with the last battle approaching (which is understandable, but like........you introduced the seanchan 7 books ago! you had time to deal with them and you squandered it!) and decided to punt it off to outriggers. so, very abruptly in COT, we get mat folding to tuon and the narrative now presenting "the seanchan have their merits actually" at face-value, which is continued in KOD with perrin's alliance with tylee. rj decided he wasn't going to deal with the seanchan in the main series after all, and so the narrative itself stopped taking them seriously as a force of evil and a threat to our heroes and their home.

at least in AMOL we do get egwene & elayne gritting their teeth about allying with the seanchan and hating every moment of it, even if they acknowledge objectively that it must be done for the sake of TLB, which is the attitude ALL our main characters should have (and rand does have it up until Jello Spine Day, which is why the majority of his seanchan arc doesn't bother me the same way perrin's and mat's do). and i think the show can do a MUCH better job on this front since they already know the full story, so they can introduce the seanchan in a way that's consistent with how they plan to ultimately deal with them by the end of the series. and given that what we have so far seems to indicate the show will be going pretty hard on how awful the seanchan are, i think it's safe to say that it does intend to conduct and wrap up their whole arc in a more satisfying way.

some readers often dismiss those of us who don't like the seanchan as The Moral Purity Police incapable of tolerating dark things in fiction, but for me, it's very little to do with morality and everything to do with narrative satisfaction. the story including an evil slaver empire is fine; the story promising in book TWO that this empire would face a huge reckoning and then failing to ever deliver on that promise is unsatisfying. i don't want the seanchan to be defeated by the end because i'm a naive simpleton who needs all my loose ends tied up with a bow and all my evils fully vanquished; i want it because rj literally promised us in book two that it would happen or at least be in motion (a handful of seanchan knowing sul'dam can channel doesn't count as "in motion"). i don't care that tuon is a bad person; i care that she's a flat, static character who undergoes 0 development despite being introduced with a lot of potential for it (what the FUCK is the point of making the heir to the seanchan throne capable of channeling if you're going to do absolutely nothing with it??). i can accept our heroes allying with the seanchan and doing bad things out of wartime desperation; i can't accept story logic and established characterization being violated to make that happen.

#wot #wot book spoilers